#world is so big. really hits you when you're lying there in the dark and listening to the silence AND stars!!1!

[pineapplething]

Lying down in the middle of a pitch dark field in powder snow at -20°C is so healing. There were so many stars. I love nature.

[manlicker69]

Hmm so could I request light yagami x male reader that acts like dazai?

I'm horrible with plot ideas, but he could be misa's brother?

Oh could it be a fluff & smut? With m!reader being bottom? (If you're comfortable)

-sunny

૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა

./づᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘~~~~♡ * ‧₊˚*♡

yesss omg i haven't really seen much fluff light but I can definitely work with this!! Thanks for the request Sunny :3

Killing Me Softly With His Song

Tags :: Light Yagami x Male Reader, smut, fluff, praise, worship, manlicker69, soft Light, reader has healed and scabbed scars, kissing, soft sex, comfort, anal, gay, reference of Light being a God (yk), oral (reader recieves)

After a long day for both of you, Light wishes to worship you instead of you worshiping him.

You've been working all day, stress decorating your figure. Sitting on Light's bed, when you hear his footsteps approach.

"Light! Oh my pookie wookie bear how i've missed you!"

Cringing at the satire name, Light embraced your body with his.

"My love, how I've missed you all day."

You leave his embrace with a giggle, jumping back onto the bed with recoil.

"Aww, you missed me? How much would you say? As large as a subway 12", or as big as Japan?"

Your intoxicating smile protruded Light's mind, mentally lifting him off of his feet. He walked on clouds to meet your face once again, greeting your lips softly. After a peaceful few seconds, he disconnects from you.

"Bigger than the distance to the moon and back, my love."

He engorged himself into your scent, appreciating the being in his arms. He greeted your lips once more, caressing your curves with curved wrists. Deep into the kiss, Light pushes you more onto the bed for him to roam over you, peppering love into your soul. You pull away to breathe properly, breathlessly staring into his dark orbs.

"I never thought that I'd be making love to a God."

You smirked, knowing your statement would arouse him even further than your body has. Light grew harder against you, but softly grabbed your form closer to kiss you once more.

"This God has noticed your effort, and he will gift you with his praise in return."

While leaving trails of kisses down your neck, he began undressing your top, feeling you up to his heart's content. He kisses your healed and unhealed scars, hoping his love overtakes their sorrow meaning. He continues his trail down your chest and stomach, hands attending his own shirt.

"You have no idea how beautiful you are Y/n... - do you consent to this?"

Focused on his gorgeous face, you slip trying to find your words.

"You have my consent, my love."

Light grips your face as if the world were to fall on him, and pecks a kiss before lowering down to your chest as he undresses your lower half. Your length springs up to the heavens, harsh and cold air hitting it.

"Are you prepared for your gift?"

You nod with a grin on your face, calm yet madly in love with everything about him. He leans forward towards your crotch to take your member in his mouth. His mouth hollow while taking you slowly. Groans and soft moans leave your throat, grasping the sheets you lie on. Light hums along your cock as he fully takes you down his throat, lifting his orbs to view your own.

"Your... your mouth feels amazing around my cock Light, keep... keep going please."

He moves along your length, swallowing both his own saliva and your pre-cum as well as he can. He starts quickening his pace faster, wanting to see your reaction. You start thrusting in his mouth, sweating like an addict for more friction. With your last thrust, you cum in his throat, watching his eyes roll back as he chokes on you. Pulling himself off of you, he grabs your face to kiss you more. You can taste your come in his mouth, arousing you even further.

"Lie down comfortably, please."

You both let go and you readjust you position, lying down on your back, staring at your lover.

"You're such a good boy y/n, such a good boy for me."

He pecks your cheek softly, then aligning himself with your entrance. With a small sigh, he slowly enters you, stirring whines and moans from you once again, He was much bigger than you, but he could still hit all of the right spots.

"Mmm... Y/n, tell me when to move."

You huff and puff around his cock, throbbing and squeezing him while you adjust. Light brushes your face wish his lips, a soft gesture you didn't often see.

"I'm okay now... you can move Light."

The sound of his name lit up in his mind like a light bulb, and started turning his gears to thrust inside of you. Making sure not to break you, he tries to hold back on his strength.

"You're so fucking handsome I - Oh my godd y/n..."

He quickens his thrusts and forms a ryrhem to follow your moans, music to his ears. Your whines performing as an orchestra to his ears. At an attempt to solve his hunger for more of you, he leans down to kiss and bite your neck.

"L-light oh my mmf... I'm gonn-"

Light swallows your words with a kiss, eating them one by one. His pace at high speeds, both his movement and your moans loud and fast. He begins loosing precision in his thrusts as he can feel his orgasm, while you scratch his back for any sense of relief. On the brink of his orgasm, you feel your own make a mess on your chest and his. He makes one final big thrust, continued with little ones, staying on top of your chest.

"You are such a good boy for me y/n , in and out of bed."

Finding your vision after your washed orgasm, you let out a soft laugh to his humor. Before the two do you could continue your short lived conversation, a call spawns in the room. Light and you look around, trying to spot the phone. Light spots it lying on the floor in one of your discarded pant pockets.

“You’re not going to answer that, right?”

Light chuckles, and does everything you didn’t want him to do ; he picked up the phone.

“Helloooo?? Y/n??? Ugh I’ve been texting you!!! Why haven’t you answered me yet??”

The loud high pitched voice of Misa fills the room.

“Sorry, he was busy with something, he’ll get back to you soon.”

He closes the phone as she protests, but fails to stop him.

“Why’d you do that?”

You lie there, still stuffed with Light’s cock.

“It’s fun to annoy your sister.”

Hope you enjoy! I am pretty tired and I am not energized enough to edit or fix any possible issues or just stuff I don't like so sorry >_<

I also kinda forgot abt the misa part so i put it in the end lol 😭😭

-- -- -- --

Have any requests? Dm me! <33

[vagabond-umlaut]

verglas

A thin coating of glaze ice on rock, formed by freezing rain hitting the tough surface.

▸ Yakuza Head Gojo x Personal Assistant Reader; Protective Gojo; Insecure Gojo; A Smidgen of Toxic Gojo [If You Squint]; Mentions of Violence [Not Towards Reader!!!]; Reader Is Very Sweet & Understanding But... :)); Lying & Manipulation; A Not-Really-Angst But With A Definitely-Happy-Ending; NOTHING IS WHAT YOU THINK IT IS :D

▸ The image, divider and characters used ain't mine. Please don't plagiarize, translate or repost this. Enjoy reading! ❤️

"Shut. Up."

"Say that to those phones going ballistic in your office, Gojo."

An exasperated sigh sounding in the quiet of the breakroom, Satoru pinches the bridge of his nose with one hand and pours the seventh packet of sugar into his coffee with the other– before he sighs again, resigned this time, and turns to throw the woman sipping tea on the couch, a piercing glare.

"Whoever the fuck you choose, they better be as efficient and reliable as Nanami was. And be very clear on the temporary nature of this job. I don't want ANY nagging from this new P.A., when Nanami returns in a month— Okay?"

Shoko's face shifts into a smile too wide to not be scary. "Okay, Boss!"

This Was A Mistake.

The biggest one ever made by Satoru in his twenty nine years of life.

Yet he does nothing but groan under his breath when you hand him a cup of coffee and the documents needed for the next meeting, a grin resting on your lips which grows brighter when his fingertips come in contact with yours while taking the cup and he mutters a thanks with an equally small smile– only for it to twist into a scowl when you leave the room.

Suguru erupts into a fit of snickers, which turns into howling laughter when Satoru pins him with a deathly glare. The latter barely stops his hands from reaching across the table, to snap the bastard's neck into halves.

The former wipes a tear from the corner of his eyes. "You're wayy too obvious, you know that? Looking all concerned and worried for her— you think she won't be able to survive this world, don't you?"

His best friend's words makes Satoru's eyes widen behind his glasses before he forces a scoff out.

"Don't be ridiculous, Suguru," he says, taking a sip of his coffee, then scrunching his nose from how less sweet it tastes. He decides to pay no attention to it for the time, choosing to focus his mind on another much more pressing issue at hand as he takes a breath and resumes.

"I don't think so. I know so. Have you even seen her? She looks too bright and good for something as dark and cursed as our world of crime. You think she'll be able to stomach everything? Ha!!" he lets loose a huff, shaking his head, "Hearing how bad this is and seeing everything for herself— it won't even be a week before she leaves."

Suguru's teasing grin devolving into one of sympathy, the man offers a comforting squeeze on his palm– not that it does anything to quell the storm within the other man's insides or whatever. The latter gives him a tight smile in return.

"You don't think she will leave, right?"

"Not at all, you loser," the black-haired man reassures, eyes crinkling in a smile, "Just tone down how very obvious you are. You might not want her to discover the evil, but your attached ass might just make that happen– and not in a nice pleasant way— you get it, don't you?"

A terse nod is the only reply Satoru finds he can gather to the query.

Okay, maybe [just maybe], appointing you wasn't a mistake after all.

Fondness strums Satoru's heartstrings, stretching and dimpling his cheeks, at the celebratory sight he finds on walking out the elevator:

You, wearing a party hat a bit too big for you, grinning at the camera held by Toge while Nobara and Yuuji stand on either side of you, two matching beams on both their faces; all the while Maki yells at Yuuta in the background for what-must-be-his-tenth-fault-of-the-day; and Shoko and Kusakabe quietly observe the scene from the side, with a paper cup each of what, the white-haired man is certain, is alcohol—

A call of his name draws the man's attention from the party before to the frowning boy beside— confusion swimming in the latter's eyes as they dart between the tiny crowd before and his mentor, and he asks, "Am I forgetting anyone's birthday today?"

"Oh no," Satoru is quick to shake his head with a chuckle— he knows enough of your hatred for the current season from the rants you have showered him in, ever since he has known you– a shudder runs down his spine, thinking how intense your rants would have been were your birthday in this horrible season as well!— "My assistant finished three weeks of her job here, so everyone is throwing her a party."

"I see," Megumi hums, nodding thoughtfully, before looking ahead at his friends, more specifically Yuuji when the pink-haired boy yells out a boisterous 'Oi Fushiguro! When did you return?'

"Today morning," The addressed boy answers, then turns to you with a small smile, "Congratulations and many thanks on dealing with the idiot for so long, in Nanami-san's absence. We were scared this place might get burnt down when we were told of his month-long holiday."

"That or few of us going to the mental hospital three blocks away and few of us to jail for murdering Gojo," Nobara adds with a chuckle that sounds much less cheery and friendly to your boss, than you told she is on meeting the girl the first time, "Seriously, Assistant-san! You are a lifesaver to so many people."

"Aww, you two adorable kids!!" you coo, bringing the grumpy boy and the bubbly girl into a hug, "I never thought, y'all would think so highly of me!! To know, all of you think so many nice things of me— I am the happiest person on earth right now– no one's allowed to inquire that!"

"Well, you're not just those but our lucky charm too!!!"

Yuuta's voice sounds from the top of the ladder, while he fixes the too many paper decorations hanging from the ceiling, "There hasn't been one occurence of anything bad ever since you joined the office!— Not one shoot-out, not one assassination attempt– Hell– We did not even find a spy— even though there was such a huge deal Gojo-san had to sign with the Kamo's— by the way, it went well, didn't it, Sensei?"

"Of course, it did, kid!" Satoru sends the boy's nervous question a big toothy grin and thumbs-up, then turns to you with a smirk, "Though, I wonder how well my assistant might fare were she to come face-to-face with such scary things— what do ya think, sweetheart?"

Your brows rise for less than a beat before settling down, the same moment your radiant grin simmers down to a minor twitch of your lips— Satoru's heart makes an erratic thrash against the boundary set by his ribcage whilst his stomach gets aflutter when you shoot him a long look– certainly not one suited for a public setting.

Head tilting to the side, you murmur, "I've already read the terms and conditions, so I think I can handle them just fine— Sir."

"What is wrong wi— hey!"

The shock in your tone being swallowed by the loud slam of the door, Satoru wastes no time in locking it before pulling you in to cage your form between himself and the wall.

If he thinks rationally, the man will know there is no reason for him to be so enraged, no reason for him to be so furious—

No reason for him to pull you away from the banquet hall to this room multiple corridors away from the grand dinner party of the Gojo's and the Kamo's– providing enough fodder to feed the gossipmongers and their next twenty generations–

The problem is there's no ounce of rationality left in him— not since that pathetic third son of one of his allies tried to chat you up— and certainly not since that utter waste of space and oxygen went to hit you for politely rejecting him time and again— the very sight of your features twisted in terror enough to awaken the slumbering beast in the man— and make it snatch control from his more humane side—

"Hey," The whispered word accompanied by the delicious feel of nails raking across his undercut jolts him out his mind, making his gaze go clearer– go redder– as he trains it on your visibly worried face, "Are—"

"Happy seeing me turn into a monster, honey?" Satoru hisses, cutting you off and pushing you further into the wall, as he leans down to get into your space.

Fingers digging into your waist whilst the other hand curls into a fist above your head, he finds himself wear a smile, so wide and crooked, cooing, "Or are you cursing yourself for entering this world in the first place, sweet cheeks? Feeling sorry for mingling with someone as bad as the one before you now, don't ya??"

"Satoru—" you begin, voice wavering and weakening, the man notes– but he finds himself uncaring as he clicks his tongue and tuts, "Don't think you can 'Satoru' out of this one, darling— I know whatever your sweet voice spouts next will be nothing but lies fuelled by fear. Those gorgeous eyes of yours are sooo filled with panic– tell me," he croons.

"Will you be bowing out right now? Or tomorrow? First thing in the—"

"And what if I say I won't ever leave, 'cause I love seeing my husband go crazy protecting me?"

Your question reaches him as nothing more than a hushed breath of the wind entering through the open window yet it proves to be more than capable in stilling Satoru. Fist unclenching, and mouth opening and closing a few times, he struggles to choke out an ask of surprise, except you don't let him.

Hand gliding from his neck to his front, fingers grasping and crinkling the ironed white shirt, you yank your husband towards yourself– eyes not leaving his for once, the dewy sheen in those putting him under a spell– not that he wasn't already bewitched by a tiny mention of your name, or the faintest glimpse of your figure.

Lower lip trembling a little, you continue, the same hushed as before.

"And what if I say I won't ever leave, 'cause I love seeing my husband being who he really is— and not some weird warped version, all half-truths and half-lies— Ever since we started going out, and even now, four years into our married life–"

Your chest heaves in a heavy sigh, its softness still tangible through your sky-blue dress when it touches his chest and deflates. You ask.

"What if I say I'm never going to leave you nor stop loving you— Not caring if you're my sweetest 'Toru caressing me with those hands of yours— Or, if you're the notorious Six Eyes, almost killing a guy with those same hands, just to safeguard me—"

A slow beat passes, wherein you slide a palm up to cup his cheek and smile, soft and sure and soothing, "What if I promise you all this, what will you do, Satoru?"

"Will you still hide stuff from me?? Become angrily silent, whenever I try to figure them out by myself— like I did, requesting Nanami to go on a vacation, just so I can become your P.A., to know who you really are as the notorious 'Yakuza King'— will you still stay mad at me, like these last few weeks, hm??"

Guilt pinches his features and twists his insides at the heart-rending quality of your query, and the memories it pushes to the surface– so cold, so dark, so lonely...

Satoru forces out a quivery exhale, fingers flexing on your lower back and drawing you even closer to himself— but never sufficiently close to your love, of course.

He drops his head to rest it in the crook of your neck, mumbling, "You serious on promising not to leave me, sweets?"

"One hundred percent," Your chuckling voice reaches him in less than a moment. Only to grow breathy, when he drags the tip of his tongue over your pulse point— a move which never not turns your legs into a jelly, very very much to your husband's glee—

A restrained whimper of his name pulling Satoru away from his self-assigned mission of suffocating you in love and praise, he raises his gaze to find your pretty lips puckered in a pout, before parting in an adorable grumble, "I blabbered so much but you didn't even tell me what you'll be doing, should I pro–"

"Shhhh..." Your husband shushes you with a finger on your lips, heart swelling manifold when you shoot him a fatally cute confused look as a response. Satoru's cheeks stretch in one of the most genuine grins, felt by the man in seemingly forever.

He bends to brush his lips with yours, lowering his voice to a murmur.

So hungry. So thirsty. So happy.

Solely for you.

"With the terms and conditions all accepted now, it's time I serve and please my lady to the fullest, yeah?"

Yeah, yeah, yeah— you and Satoru sure solve your conflicts happily that night— but poor Kento has to return three days early from his family vacation in Malaysia– only because Suguru & Shoko cannot handle the aftermath of the SPECTACLE made by The Arctic King Of Yakuza hurrying away from the banquet, 'holding hands' with his new P.A., then returning with her an hour later and announcing: SHE IS HIS WIFE—

Quite unsurprisingly, your hubby 'Toru is nearly killed in his office the next morning by his three closest friends since forever– the word nearly there in the sentence only due to your [un]timely intervention. :))

▸ series: tang!

▸ masterlist

[mistkisbiggestfan]

This is kinda AU but how the cast would react if they met a reader who already knows who they all are, because tadc is the newest biggest thing on TV. This network has been tricking people into entering tadc through these headsets (similar to sao) and people are seeing/betting/voting how long the crew could last without going insane, last one standing gets 100 million dollars (Kinger and Gangle are the top two people vote/bet to most likely abstract next, while Jax is a fan favorite character) I guess the reader could be an activist who was against the show the network wanted to silence so they put them in tadc too

TADC Cast x Gn! Reader

Tadc Cast x Gn! Reader

A/n: Hey took a lil break but I'm back on the grind! REQUESTS FOR TADC ARE OPEN!!

Summary: You were an activist against a network that runs TADC (which is a gameshow), but now you're stuck with the people you were trying to help Words: 1774 Request: Yes

Chaos. 

But I think we all know that already.

You popped out in the main circus area just a few weeks after Pomni and it was not great. 

Somehow you kept your memory in check, not forgetting anything, well, maybe not forgetting everything you knew before finding yourself trapped in the brand new show: “The Amazing Digital Circus!”. 

Not everyone knew about the shady and dark part of it though, the people or “actors” / “animated characters” were actual normal humans taken away and put into this digital h#|! for entertainment.

But out of everyone, you knew. 

You tried your best to shut down the network, do anything against this, basically cruel torture. 

But the show must go on, right? They couldn’t let someone like you, destroy their source of money.

Especially when you started to snoop around too much for your own good. 

Hands shoved into the pockets of your jacket, it was cold, so cold. Your breath turned into a cloud of fog, walking through the city, everybody looked like a bunch of serious chain-smokers.

It has been a few months since you started to fight for the rights of people who were currently stuck in “The Amazing Digital Circus!” The cruelty of a network using these people’s mental health as an attraction, to see who will break faster, disgusted you. And so you decided that you’ll do everything to help them, and to bring those greedy bastards from the company using them down.

People shoved others out of their way, shoulder hitting shoulder. Walking through such a mob was hard, especially since you were walking in an opposite direction of theirs, scoffing ladies and gentlemen looked at you in a rather disgusting manner.

And sure, you didn’t quite fit in here, with a jacket and clothes which weren’t close to the world “elegant”, men and women in suits passed by you with a raised eyebrow, a plan which consisted of fitting in failed already. 

You turned around the corner, breaking away from the tide of busy workers currently trying to reach their respectful workplace. As you walked through a dark, shady alleyway you saw some people lying on the ground, nothing out of place really.

Finally, you were met with backdoors of a big company’s building. You put your hood on and took out your ID you may or not have stolen from one of the company’s programmers when he was drunk, not your fault, he should have been more careful. 

As you walked through, you were met with a harsh and confusing environment, across the hall you spotted people who were very different from the rest, at least some of them were. The programmers of the whole thing were dressed in comfortable clothes – no dress code included them. 

Before the escalators door shut, you managed to stick your foot, jamming the doors and getting in, a girl turned to you, visibly surprised. – Hey, who are you? – She asked, mumbling tiredly.

You felt your palms sweating a bit, they weren’t supposed to realize something was off so early on. But you had to play apart somehow, clearing your throat as you spoke, you said – Oh, I’m a new programmer here! It’s my first day.

She raised her eyebrow but didn’t question you, and just as her co–worker was about to ask you something, the escalator’s door opened, you speed walked away, but not before noticing the girl from moments prior talking to a security guard and pointing in your vague direction. 

Shit, she had noticed your ID, or more likely, the fact the ID wasn’t yours. You had to move fast, and so you did. Walking along the corridor you noticed a room which differed from others. Looking away in both directions of the hall, you didn’t notice anyone, the way was clear. Your sweaty palm of your right hand rested on the doorknob, and as you pushed, the door creaked. 

The interior was entirely white, now, with the passage of time, white walls were tinted yellow, giving off an unsanitary look, the tiles were cold, you felt it even through your boots. And there it was – the closet full of documents that would shut this company down, and hopefully, save the people stuck in that TV show or whatever it was. 

You ramaged through the endless pages full of protocols, data and worthless information till you found the thing you were out for, a file with every single piece of information not redacted out. The only copy that existed. You shoved the paper into your backpack and turned to leave, getting away as far as you could now. 

Getting out of the room was terrifying, a sense of panic filled your body and overwhelmed you, pulling the hood over your face harder, you turned to walk out of the hall – towards the escalator. But during your flight, you bumped into something, one of the security guards. Stumbling backwards you gazed up in terror, before trying to run away. 

Unfortunately, the security guard grabbed you by the backpack effortlessly, trying to get away, you scratched at him with your nails. The only thing you remember prior to getting tased was other people walking towards you two. After that, you woke up as one of the new players of this hellish game you were trying to save them all from.

When you woke up, you panicked – of course – but not because you couldn’t remember anything, because you did remember, you panicked because now there was no way of you helping those people.

As you looked around dazzled, you knew all of the people there beforehand – Jax, Ragatha, Kinger, Zooble, Gangle, Caine and the new person – Pomni.

Looking down you saw how unhuman you have become, oh god, the feeling of static filling you instead of blood was too much.

Before you could say a world, Caine jumped in front of you. 

“⊹HELLO DEAR!! WELCOME TO THE AMAZING DIGITAL CIRCUS!!!⊹” “No #u@k!ng way…”

Caine then proceeded to tell you how swearing is not accepted by the guidelines. 

But you knew all of that already, so you pushed forward, looking at everyone else. 

The thing you used to watch on TV, fight against, was now your reality. 

Then your eyes were caught on Kinger and Gangle, poor souls. People watching this whole thing thinking it’s just a show, maybe a really clever animation, voted them to be most likely to abstract soon. 

Jax walked over to you, even though your avatar was quite tall, almost taller than everyone, he tried to use you to lean on his elbow. – We get new stuff already? It hasn’t been two weeks since Pomni got here! 

Oh god how you hated that man out of all people, this asshole was a fan favorite. 

“Eat $h!t and d!e Jax.” 

Silence. 

You were met with silence and a lot of terrified looks from everyone in the main area. 

Even Caine stood there bewildered. 

“How did you know my name…?”

“Eh,, I’m good at guessing things..?” 

“⊹OH WELL!! WEIRD THINGS ASIDE, LET ME TOUR YOU ALONG THE AMAZING DIGITAL CIRCUS {trade mark, all copyrights reserved}!!!!!!⊹” 

You looked up at him, confused. “Oh no need, I think I’m good.” 

Again, that was weird af. Caine stood there for a second calculating a good answer lmao.

Yeah the first meeting was rough, they were all very much weirded out. Bubble liked you though!

But that was because of another slip up you made. “So like, where is Bubble..?” That was def the wrong dialogue option because you can swear (not really tho) that Caine mumbled: How did they know who Bubble is..? 

And out of everyone, you knew only one person would believe your crazy rambling for now, someone as desperate as you – Pomni. 

So, one time, you took her by the arm, to a place you knew had no cameras, no one recording your conversation for content, and you told her about the fact that there has to be an exit here, that you remember everything, and that this is all a game for Caine and “the people outside”.

After you’re done, you already can tell that this was a bad idea. Her eyes went blank, with dark scribbles for pupils. 

You huffed in annoyance and partial sympathy. – Just forget it Pomni, I’ll figure something out.. – The last part was more for you than her, when you started to walk away, you felt her run beside you, catching up. – Wait! What the h#|! do you mean!?? Who are the “people outside”!?! – She shouted before you tackled her and shushed her. 

– Look, I explain this all once it’s safe to do so, now just act like you always do, nothing happened here. – You said before walking along, playing a part in this sick game. If someone told you about this beforehand, you would be on the other side of the continent right now.

And as you left her be, you knew that her mental health wasn’t well before all this and now it must’ve dropped to an all time low. Oh well, you’ll explain it to her later, once it’s safe. 

You tried to slowly ease people into the idea that this was a TV show, a game. They all thought you were just another madman, like many before and many that will be here after. 

Pomni seemed slightly hesitant, and once you started to help her look for exit, she was onboard with you. 

Meanwhile people watching the game were having a blast with you as a new cast member, because of course, the secret that you know it’s a game got out and was now known by everyone (except for the TADC cast ofc).

So seeing you struggle in convincing them was funny. 

You and Jax developed a funny dynamic in the meantime, it consisted of you telling them it's a game, Jax saying something like “Yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night.” And you two started to argue.  

Out of everyone you didn’t mind swearing him out even if it was censored.

Pomni asked you about what you remember and you told her (almost) everything, like the fact that people vote on who they think will abstract, or even bid money on that. And the fact that Jax is the favorite, which makes her confused because why do people like a f#c(!ng @$$hole like him??

You soon had to adapt into this thing, trying to keep yourself and others sane.

And as you tried to figure out something to help you all, you couldn’t help but grow attached to the people around you. 

[callsignlucky]

talk to me, lucky (part 4)

summary: You're Maverick’s kid. You’re also Bradley Bradshaw’s best friend—or at least, you were. What lies between you two now is uncharted territory.

pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw/mitchell!reader

wc: 3k

a/n: me posting another part two days later? it's more likely than you think! i hit the angst button on this one sorry y'all :')

<- part 3 | part 5 ->

When Bradley Bradshaw was little, his father put glow stars on his ceiling when he said he was afraid of the dark. 

After Goose passed away, things slowly faded away with time and nicknacks slowly started to be replaced as time marched on, memories began to fade, people started to talk about Goose less and less. 

But the one thing that remained constant over the years were the glow stars Nick Bradshaw painstakingly pressed into the ceiling of his young son’s bedroom. 

I remember them so vividly, even now. It was amazing to me how they shone just as bright in his pitch black room at the age of nineteen as they did when Bradley was two and tucked under his dad’s arm as he read him Goodnight, Moon for the hundredth time. 

The night I realized I was in love with Bradley Bradshaw, we were lying beneath his stars. The irony of the whole thing was that I was only there because of a fight with my father. Dad and I didn’t fight often at all, which made those rare arguments peppered into my teenage years explosive. Honestly, I couldn’t remember what the fight was about, only that at some point along the way, Dad had mentioned Mom and the word disappointed and even though I knew he didn’t mean it, that he spoke before he thought, it sent me spiraling. I remember I trudged through the pouring rain down to the other end of the street because I couldn’t even stand to be in the same house as him. 

Carole was waiting on the front porch for me with a big fluffy towel when I finally trudged up the steps. In hindsight, I should’ve realized then and there that I was the luckiest girl in the world—my father was madder at me than he’d been my entire life and yet he called Aunt Carole to make sure I didn’t catch a cold when I got to her house. That’s how much he loved me. 

She helped me into the half bath downstairs, where one of my many changes of pajamas left at the Bradshaw house was waiting. She took my wet clothes and sent me and my fluffy towel upstairs to Bradley’s room. 

I remember trudging up those stairs trying not to cry, because it was the worst thing I could possibly imagine for Bradley to see me crying. But, he was waiting in his doorway, brown hair tousled, clearly having been roused from a restful slumber. He smiled sleepily at me and held out an arm, and I remember how bad the sob that escaped me hurt my chest as I hugged him tight around the middle, and he guided me into his dark room and under his very fancy, very soft duvet. 

We lay there in silence for a long while, his fan spinning, and my watery eyes were focused on the stars over our heads. There had to be hundreds of little neon green dots glowing above our heads—very childish for a nineteen year old, but it was such peace to look up and get lost in the cosmos from the comfort of a familiar bed. 

“We’re analyzing this book in my Lit class.” Bradley spoke quietly, one arm tucked beneath his head and the other hand on his chest. “The Outsiders. Have you ever read it?” 

I couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Yeah, during my freshman year of high school. What’re you doing reading that in college?” 

“It’s part of the unit. Revisiting books we read at a lower curricular level. It’s really cool to see how different we see books at fourteen compared to now. It’s like a whole new light.” Bradley never explained things to me like I was stupid, and ever since he started college it was nice to hear what I would expect once I graduated. “Anyways, it made me think of a nickname for you.” 

“A nickname?” 

“Yeah!” Bradley laughed out with a nod. “I mean, Little Mav is cute and all but it’s not even you, it’s just a play on your dad’s callsign. You need something special to you.” 

Finally, I tore my eyes away from Goose’s stars and turned my head to look at Bradley. “Okay, what was the nickname?” 

Bradley turned his head to look at me with a smile. “Cherry.” 

“Cherry?” 

“Yeah, like from the book? Cherry Valance?” 

I laughed and nodded, waving my hand. “Yes, Bradley, I know who she is, but why Cherry?” 

“You remind me of her.” Bradley said simply, and I raised a brow at him, though he could barely see it in the darkness. 

“How so?“ 

“Well, Cherry is kind to Ponyboy, even if he does live on the other side of the tracks. And she’s whip-smart, and courageous. Open-minded, too, just like you. It just fits. Plus, you’re sweet, just like cherries.” Bradley explained himself very precisely, and I couldn’t help but smile. 

“I love it. Though, if I’m Cherry, I’ll need a Ponyboy.” I reasoned, and Bradley hummed thoughtfully. 

“I suppose I could be your Ponyboy. If you’ll have me.” He mused after a moment with a cheeky grin, and I nodded quickly, turning my eyes back up to the stars again. 

“I’ll have you always, Bradley Bradshaw.” 

“I know you will. That’s why I love you.” 

I remembered how well we took to those silly nicknames in the few years we had them before Bradley left.

I remember how bad he caused sunsets to hurt after he was gone.

———

As I walked onto the tarmac, sunglasses on my nose, I felt a hand snag my forearm, snatching me from my nostalgia. I was spun around unceremoniously, and Rooster was there, staring down at me over his father’s aviators. 

“Did you know?” He asked quietly, probably to avoid the other pilots from overhearing. He really didn’t need to talk so quietly, because the planes nearly drowned him out. “About your dad being here—did you know??” 

“Yes.” I replied, yanking my arm from his grip. 

“You could’ve warned me.” 

I clenched my jaw. “Warned you? What would you have liked me to say, Bradley?” I adjusted my footing, bringing my hand up to my chest. “Oh hey, so I know you haven’t talked to me in ten years and abandoned me over something my dad did, but just a heads up—he’s our new TOPGUN instructor!” He opened his mouth to speak, but my dad cut him off from behind us. 

“Rooster!” A light switch flicked from within him. I watched as his spine went straight, and he stepped around me, continuing on his path to his F-18, abandoning our conversation entirely, like he did most things lately. “Bradley!” Dad called again, and I scoffed bitterly, headed for my plane all the same. “Lieutenant Bradshaw!” Dad barked eventually, causing Rooster to stop. I watched from the nose of my F-18 as Bradley turned, towering over my father. Angry at him, angry at me, seemingly angry at the world. It felt like a bullet entered my chest as I watched them interact, so very different from the memories of my youth. It felt like a black sludge was slowly creeping over them, infecting the happiness of the past with the reality of now.  I wished things could go back to the way they used to be. I wished Goose didn’t die, that he’d had been there to raise his son, I wish his accident hadn’t scared his wife to death and pressued my father to make a deathbed promise. I wish Uncle Ice hadn’t helped my father pull Bradley’s papers, I wished Bradley would just understand my father only had his best interest in mind. I wished for a lot of things, things that would never come true, things that I couldn’t change but still weighed me down like a ton of bricks all the same.

Suddenly and all at once I shook that pain right out of my body, flapping my arms and hopping from one foot to the other, rolling my shoulders and neck and refocusing, readying myself to do my job. I wasn’t here to reminisce on the past, I was here to do a job and do it better than the men and women around me. I was here to live up to my father’s legacy. If we were going up against Maverick, there was no room in my head for anything other than the strategy and skill I knew I possessed, because I knew he was going to give us a run for our money. 

And sure enough, he did. We dropped like flies, one by one by one. The pilot in me was frustrated, but the little girl in me was amazed. Never did I think I’d get to see my dad fly, witness firsthand why I was the daughter of a living legend who actually lived up to the legend. But up there in that cockpit, I got to watch him become Maverick, picking us off like lemmings led to slaughter. 

First ones down was Rooster, who reaped what Payback and Fanboy sewed as the first victim of their idiotic two hundred pushup bet. 

“That should be us down there.” Payback mused as we watched from the window while Hondo counted off Rooster’s pushups. I nodded. 

“But it’s not. And now you know a little something about Rooster.” I replied, eyes lingering for just a little while longer before I turned and headed off for my time in the sky. 

Next was myself, with Harvard and Yale as my wingmen. Much to my disdain, they’d stopped to take a selfie with Bradley as he did his pushups, which I found to be in poor taste. Dad killed them fairly easily once we got into the sky, but I put up enough of a fight to make him sweat before he finally caught tone. The sun was hot and my arms ached but I had to admit, I was all smiles as we hit the tarmac for our pushups, listening to Hondo taunt the Ivy Leagues about their selfie with Rooster. 

Following them was Hangman, with Phoenix and Bob supporting. As much as I hated to admit it, Lieutenant Jake Seresin was one hell of a pilot. He lasted a lot longer than any of the others, even if he did play dirty and ditch his wingman to get those extra seconds. Watching him do his pushups was just as satisfactory as the previous group. 

Dad killed Omaha, Coyote and Halo after that, and sent Fitz and the Ivy Leagues for another round with Hondo immediately after. 

My final shot against my father left Hangman flying between myself and Bradley, and I kept my eyes ahead as I clicked my mask in place just as Hangman began to run his mouth. “So Rooster, mind if I ask you a personal question?” 

“Would it matter if I did?” 

“What’s the deal with you and Lucky? You two can’t even stand to be in the same room as each other.” I rolled my eyes as he literally talked over me, like I wasn’t even there. 

“It’s none of your business.” 

“Okay. What about you and Maverick? Seems like he’s got you a bit rattled.” Even with his mask on I could hear the smirk in his voice, and Bradley rolled his eyes this time. 

“Still none of your business.” He snapped, looking around. “Now where the hell is he?” 

Dad’s voice cut through comms. “Been here the whole time.” Pushing my jet forward, I watched in disbelief as Dad pulled his jet up to loop on top of Rooster.

Completely inverted on top of Rooster. 

 Jake seemed to be on the same page as me, his eyes wide. “Holy shit.” 

“C’mon,” Dad taunted, and I sighed heavily, slumping back in my seat in annoyance. “Let’s get it over with.” 

“Fight’s on!” Rooster shouted, before pulling a hard right and turning the nose of his jet down. 

“What is with these two??” Jake asked, and I just shook my head, watching as the two most important men in my life went head to head in a downward spiral. If I’d have been able to talk without choking up, I probably would’ve aired our dirty laundry out to Hangman right then and there. 

“Alright, you put us here. How are you gonna get yourself out?” Dad grunted. 

“You can bail out anytime!” Rooster huffed in response. 

“How low you wanna go, Rooster?” 

“I can go as low as you, sir! And that’s saying something!” 

“What’s past is past, for both of us!” 

“You’d like to believe that, wouldn’t you?” Rooster snapped out, some bite to his voice, pain in his words.

“Yeah, well the least you can do is leave her out of it!” 

I angrily unclipped my mask at those words, quickly wiping away the tear that slipped down my cheek and turning my head away from Jake so he wouldn’t see. The last thing I needed was the cockiest pilot I’ve ever met seeing me cry in the cockpit, as if I didn’t feel pathetic enough. I wish Ice hadn’t signed that paper to push my father through to Fightertown. 

“Hard deck is five thousand feet, fellas. You are running out of room.” Jake was trying to pull them apart, I’ll give him that, but his words fell on deaf ears as my father and Bradley went spiraling further and further down. 

“Your strategy is about to run us to the ground. What’s your move?” My father asked Bradley, and I gripped the stick tighter in my hand. 

“Pull up.” I muttered under my breath as Jake and I flew side by side, eyes on the active train wreck below us, neither one able to look away. The further they went, the faster my heart slammed into my chest, leaning forward in my seat until I couldn’t take it anymore. “DAMMIT PONYBOY, PULL UP!!” Rooster suddenly yanked the stick and leveled himself out behind but above my father, and the shot couldn’t have been more perfect. 

“C’mon, Rooster, you got him! Drop down and take the shot!” Hangman urged from my right, and I found myself agreeing with him out loud, urging Bradley to pull tone and take Maverick down. 

“It’s too low!” Rooster excused, and my dad declared for everyone to hear that it was too late, he had his chance, before he pulled the stick back and thrust the throttle forward. Hangman and I could only watch as Dad’s jet glided up into a Cobra maneuver, before dropping down and locking tone on Rooster. 

“That’s a kill.” Dad declared breathlessly, and Rooster hung his head with a swear while Hangman shook his head. 

“Same old Rooster.” 

I was the last one to land, having taken my time to get back to base. I really didn’t want to see anyone, especially my father and Rooster, and I was thankful that at least Bradley wasn’t there as I climbed out of my cockpit. Hondo and Dad remained on the tarmac, talking to one another, and I thought I could slip right by them when I caught my dad’s eye.

“Lucky!” Dad called after me, but just like Bradley had before, I walked right by him. I heard him swear behind me before heavy bootsteps were on my tail, and his hand snagged my elbow, just like Bradley had done before. 

Something in me snapped. 

I whirled on my heel and dropped my flight bag, slamming my fists into his chest as hard as I could. With a soft ‘oof’ my dad stumbled back, eyes wide in disbelief as he looked at me, hands raised in defense. “Birdie—” 

“Don’t you Birdie me, are you CRAZY?!” I screamed, the sensation unfamiliar and disgusting in my mouth. I never raised my voice, especially at my father and certainly not on a tarmac in uniform but I just couldn’t take it anymore. The anger between him and Rooster was driving me insane, there was a pit in my stomach that I couldn’t soothe and a lump in my throat that I couldn’t swallow and it was all their fault, and I shoved my father back again. “You could’ve killed him! You baited him, and for what? To tease him??” 

“To teach him!” 

“Teach him what?? HUH?? What did he learn from that?? What did you accomplish aside from making things worse??” I reached my hand up and Hondo quickly stepped between us, a hand on my shoulder. 

“Lucky—” He tried, but I yelled right over him, pushing against his hand and swiping at my dad again. 

“You need to pony up and admit you did a fucked up thing to him. And yes I know Aunt Carole made you promise before she died and yes I KNOW you’re scared because of what happened to Uncle Goose but Bradley is a big boy now and one of the best pilots in the Navy because if he wasn’t he wouldn’t be here so you need to grow up, step back and let him make his own choices!” The words came out of my mouth like vomit, so fast and so quick that it left me breathless at the end. I slumped slightly against Hondo’s hand, watching my father’s eyes search my face. “You are so stupid for breaking the hard deck. You could have died.” That lump in my throat grew larger, hands shaking as one came to rest on his chest. “You are all I have. Don’t you realize that? I already lost Bradley. Don’t make me lose you too.” 

“I’m sorry.” My father whispered, and I just sighed, all the fight having drained out of me as I stooped down to grab my flight bag. 

“I’m not the one you need to apologize to.” From behind us, a familiar, deep voice boomed out. 

“Captain Mitchell!” The three of us turned to find Bates standing by the hangar door, looking less than pleased. “Admiral Sampson would like a word.” 

“I’ll see you at home.” I patted Dad’s back, before walking off, completely missing Lieutenant Jake Seresin standing by his F-18, a smirk on his face. Likely because he had just witnessed the entire thing. 

@zzsloth | @boringusername | @sydneejean | @mosebypineapple | @erinswrld | @roosterschanelslut | @mirandastuckinthe80s | @mak-32 | @shrimping-for-all | @rosiahills22 | @gretagerwigsmuse | @callsignbirdie | @hopefulinlove | @ponyboys-sunset | @maverick-wingman | @itscheybaby | @alanadetigy | @shanimallina87 | @actuallybarb | @majdoline | @belledawnidk | @srh5605 | @18crazybutcutealsopsycho | @hey-its-kayla-claire | @whore-for-pennywise | @notanordinaryprincess95 | @adjspam | @natzp03 | @callsign-redfox | @prongs-girlfriend | @samstersv | @morallyspookyglitter | @hope-love-equality2 | @student-disaster | @callsignfrostbite | @greaser9902 2 | @megan-schulz | @hotch-meeeeeuppppp | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @savslarabs | @caswinchester2000 | @kkrenae | @koperwiekje | @perseus-666 | @i-just-like-marvel | @abg1994 | @paintballkid711 | @turningtoclown | @deadunicorn159 | @jimmorrison13 | @awesomebooklover17 | @w0nderw0man-reading | @j-deimos | @can-this-be-a-fanfic | @justanothermagicalsara | @roostersluvvr | @itevilhag | @nonniecannie | @caldodemazapangourmet | @dracosluvbot | @posierosie | @inne-edoftherapy | @takeyour-pants-off

[writergeekrhw]

Hey, hope you are well. I was wondering what you considered your finest contribution to the various shows you have worked on? The character/character moment/plot point/favourite line that, if someone invented a time machine and tried to go back and erase that specifically, you would end up fighting them on a rooftop in the rain to protect?

Oh man, that one is pretty much impossible to answer. I've written over 80 episodes of TV and worked on over 300, so it's hard for me to pick my favorite episodes let alone my favorite moments or lines, etc. I'm most proud of the body of work and how deep it is, but let's see if I can think of a few highlights:

TNG:

"A Fistful of Datas" - The title is really good! I'm happy I got Picard to play his flute. The Worf/Data kiss was me, though I wrote it on the lips.

DS9 (A lot of these are with Ira):

"Q-Less" - "You hit me. Picard never hit me." "I'm not Picard."

"The Wire" - "My dear Doctor, they're all true." "Even the lies?" "Especially the lies."

"Past Tense 1&2" - All of it really.

"To the Death" - The whole "Victory is life" bit and O'Brien's response

"In Purgatory's Shadow" - "Lying is a skill like any other. And if you want to maintain a level of excellence, you have to practice constantly." "You Cardassians are all alike. You talk too much." "How can I forget it? It was the only day."

"By Inferno's Light" - Dukat's big speech. "That space station you're so fond of was built by Cardassia." "Funny. I thought it was built by Bajoran slave labor." "I yield! I cannot defeat this Klingon. All I can do is kill him, and that no longer holds my interest." "Armageddon will have to wait for another day."

"Call to Arms" - The end with Sisko's baseball.

"Field of Fire" - Snipering the melon. Who the bad guy ends up being and what his motive is.

Also: "Hard Time" "For the Uniform" "Little Green Men"

ANDROMEDA:

Proud of creating my first show. I think the cast I had control over (everyone but Dylan) is pretty great.

"Under the Night" - "Oh, he's the guy who retired. Didn't you say he bought a farm?" "The farm. Bought the farm, Trance." "What's the difference?" "Torn pressure suit and a bad emergency seal." Tyr's entrance.

"An Affirming Flame" - "I don't care if we wake up when the suns have all burned out and the universe is winding down to die, as long as I'm there to watch."

"Angel Dark, Demon Bright" - Harper's big speech. "Those are my mathematics. I'll leave you to yours." I like the way time travel works in this one.

"Music of a Distant Drum" - Tyr correcting the kid's shooting grip

"Harper 2.0" - "My pain belongs to the Divine. It is like air. It is like water."

"It's Hour Come Round at Last" - "To hell with the odds. All that matters in life is that we try. Promise you'll try."

THE TWILIGHT ZONE:

I'm proud to have written a Twilight Zone even if it wasn't in the original run.

THE DEAD ZONE:

"Descent" - Triggering a JohnnyVision by having him brushed by a passing bat.

THE DRESDEN FILES:

Underrated show in my opinion. I'm proud of co-developing it. Production was rough so I'm proud I got the episodes done and the show on the air. I think the cast is really good. The moment when Harry has to get a wasp to sting him in the eye to use it as a spy drone is pretty memorable.

THE 4400:

Richard Tyler in the diner seeing how much the world has changed. Ali is so good in that scene. We knew we had lightning in a bottle with him.

THE GATES:

"Little Girl Lost" is pretty good.

ALPHAS:

I wrote a lot of Gary's off the wall lines. "Left!" "Are you sure? Heart left, Gary?" Gary puts his hand over his heart. "No, right!" "Respect the badge!" Also casting Tatiana Maslany before she blew up was a really good call.

STAR-CROSSED:

I came up with a lot of how the Atrians culture and biology worked and I think that was all cool stuff. I loved Teri's "hold my gold" moment in "And Left No Friendly Drop," which was something that Chelsea Gilligan came up with in blocking, but I'll take credit for it. Teri punching the drone in "What Storm is This That Blows So Contrary" was fun.

(Elementary later)

[99liv3s]

The girls name is althemia! The artist says she's really timid and lacks social skills! She has floppa ears and a smol tail! She was drawn and belongs to LewdRather on Twitter but I'm submitting her cause she cute

Althemia had waddled into the birth clinic, her belly protruding out past the purple hoodie she wore, crying softly, clearly in active labor. As soon as the receptionist saw her, she signaled for help and two nurses escorted Althemia gently to the back rooms of the facility. With each step she took, trying to take her mind off the pain and pressure in her pelvis, she could hear the sounds of moaning, screaming, and crying from other nearby rooms, and trembled slightly, knowing that would be her very soon!

Several painful hours later, Althemia was found lying completely naked on the bed in her room, panting and struggling. Sweat dripped from her short sandy brown hair and her entire chest heaved as she breathed heavily, her dark brown eyes wide. Althemia's long ears on the top of her head drooped slightly as she panted and moaned, her little fluffy tail brushing against the bed she was lying on, adding to her discomfort. She had taken labor like a champ so far, but now Althemia was fully dilated and her body was screaming at her to push. Grabbing her legs to pull them back and hold them open, Althemia pushed with a long loud moan and grunt, and her vagina bulged! As she stopped to catch her breath, heaving and panting, still holding her legs, Althemia felt as though a heavy weight was about to pass through her. "Good, you're doing good," a midwife said to her. "Push again when you catch your breath!" Althemia pushed again, letting out another long loud moan of pain, and her vagina was slammed open by the baby's head. It burned and the pressure intensified as Althemia opened, a tuft of sandy hair identical to her own becoming visible. However, when she stopped to pant again, the head slipped back in! "You gotta push harder," the midwife said over Althemia's loud pants. Her face reddening, she bore down, letting out a cry of pain as the head opened her vagina again and emerged. A small floppy ear popped out this time and hung out of her, keeping the head out and visible as Althemia paused again, breathing even harder and crying high pitched cries as the head hung at partial crown. "Oooh, oooh, it really hurts, it's BURNING!" Althemia shrieked, tears falling from her dark eyes, which were tightly closed in a painful grimace. "Just a little bit more, you've got this!" The midwife assured her calmly. Staring down at the open vagina she could not see, due to her large bump being in the way, Althemia bore down even harder, determined to push this baby out of her! "Oooooh, OOOWWWW!" She bellowed as the rest of the head emerged, showing the midwife two bent little floppy ears that, in time no doubt, would grow to resemble the mother's. Althemia screamed as her body locked itself in an unending push that brought the child fully into the world! Althemia collapsed onto the bed's pillows, panting in relief as the newborn's cries reached her ears. It was a little girl!

As the pain of afterbirth hit her, Althemia barely noticed as she held the little girl in her arms, smiling as she looked over its features. The baby was Althemia in miniature, as if she had cloned herself. After one of the midwives took the baby away, to check its vital signs, Althemia positioned herself for the pain of delivering her afterbirth, as the first midwife checked around her vagina, making sure things went smoothly. However, the pain was increasing rapidly, and Althemia was sure there was not this much pressure involved in afterbirth. "Uh oh," the midwife said, half smiling and half concerned as she glared at Althemia's sore opening. "There's.... another baby!" Althemia stated ahead in shock. How was this possible?? She had only ever felt one set of kicks during her pregnancy, and even her belly only looked big enough to carry one baby. Rubbing her hand over the bump that had not gone away when she pushed the first baby out, Althemia realized that there was no more time to think, for like it or not, there was another baby coming out of her, and it no longer mattered about why she did not know of its existence before now. Althemia grabbed her legs again, gathering her strength, but it seemed that, now that the first baby was out of her, this one was coming full force, almost as if the daughter she had first birthed was a stopper preventing the second from coming out. As a result of this, the pain from this baby's movement was more pronounced!

"AAAAAHHH!" Althemia screamed as the baby burst through her birth canal. Her belly contracted as she screamed again, and another, almost identical head appeared at her opening. "No, I don't think I can do this again!!" Althemia shouted, feeling the pressure at her already sore and throbbing vagina. "You have to," the midwife responded, not unkindly. "You can do it!" "You can get that baby out!" "The pain is only temporary!" "Women like you have been birthing twins since the beginning of time, and you're just as strong!" "Push honey!" Althemia did not need telling twice as the pressure hit her so hard, she felt like the head of this baby would split her open. "AAAHHHUUUHHAAAA!!" she yelled out, crying hysterically. At this moment, the pain felt anything but temporary! Althemia felt like she was dying as the head tunneled out of her. It did not slip back in after each push, like her first baby did. This one, it seemed, wanted out badly! Althemia was in so much pain, she could not even think. By the time she gathered her thoughts again, the baby was hanging halfway out of her. "It's bigger than the first," the midwife announced. "I know that," Althemia thought, grimacing. Throwing her head back, Althemia gave a loud roar as a final push brought the second, and she was hoping, last baby into the world! It was a boy!!

(Your character rolled 11 = twins)

[french-unknown]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: luffy, nami, sanji, chopper 𝐂/𝐖: fluff 𝐖/𝐂: 950 +

| m a s t e r l i s t |

𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐘

As you all left aboard the Thousand Sunny with Garp following you, you suddenly saw a huge cast iron ball appear on the Navy Vice Admiral's boat. The effect was all the more striking when you noticed that the cannonball grew bigger and bigger as it approached your ship. Panicked, you began to sweat from the roof where you were standing, above the bathroom.

However, the coup de Burst was fired and, taken by surprise, you were immediately thrown off the roof by the force of the cannon shot. You tried to catch up with the railing but you only managed to brush against it with your fingertips before falling out of the boat. In shock, you felt a moment of nothing as you fell into the void while the Thousand Sunny rose into the skies. The panic returned like whiplash.

You looked down reflexively at the ocean beneath you closing in at lightning speed but, before you could do anything, you heard something whistle in your ears and a rope suddenly wrapped around your waist. The rope abruptly stopped your course, taking your breath away as it passed, before climbing just as violently back to the ship. Without really understanding what had just happened to you, you found yourself pressed against Luffy who kept you against him with his arm around your waist.

"It was close!" He chuckled with a big smile.

𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

After a victory, the whole crew decided to celebrate at sea. On the menu: meat and alcohol in abundance. As everyone danced on deck, you felt as if your head was stuffed with cotton but you didn't care. Instead, you went to Nami to offer her a dance which she refused on the pretext that you were too drunk. You tried to coax her but, other than a kiss on the cheek, she didn't move from her perch so you continued to party.

Unfortunately, after a few more drinks, you felt like throwing up. You then leaned over the railing of the boat but Luffy suddenly called you and, when you turned around, a dizziness made your world spin around its orbit. You fell backward. Although the railing tucked into the back of your hips, you quickly felt that your upper body went over it, thus training the rest of your body.

You hit the surface of the water and you were immediately disoriented because of the alcohol and the darkness caused by the night. Not knowing where the surface was, you panicked. It took a few more seconds before you noticed scum forming next to you and saw Nami come out of it with her angry face. Five minutes later, you were back on deck with your comrades circling around you, laughing.

"You're unbelievable!" The redhead growled before lying down on you because of the effort.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈

Sanji came to join you on the lounge chairs with a snack during the afternoon. He moved behind you as you sat between his legs to lean against his chest. Well installed, you began to taste the dessert.

"Do you want me to spread sunscreen on your body?" You heard him ask behind you in a tone that was far too happy to be innocent. Even if you imagined that he already had blood under his nose, you hesitated for a second before accepting anything to tease him.

Suddenly, something painfully closed around your ankle before you were abruptly pulled into the water. Finding yourself in the ocean, you had no time to catch your breath as, looking down, you saw a gigantic snake-like Sea Kings dragging you down to the depths. Already not having enough air in your lungs, you screamed.

However, out of the corner of your eye you saw a fiery orange shard heading at full speed towards the monster, which immediately released its grip. You swam as best you could towards the surface where Robin had already made a ladder thanks to her devil fruit. Despite the pain in your ankle, you still manage to go back to where you were directly treated by Chopper. Unable to take your eyes off the sea, you watched the orange ball hit the sea monster again and again. At dinner, you had no regrets about eating your meat when Sanji served it to you first.

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑

You've all been at sea for a long time and you're getting seriously bored. So you decided to bother Chopper a bit to keep yourself busy. You didn't really have any particular reason or grudge, it was just that he was too cute at the moment and you wanted to annoy him a little. It didn't take you long before you broke into his office to steal his stethoscope and proudly walked around the boat with the object around your neck.

As soon as the reindeer noticed it, he immediately wanted you to give it back to him but, refusing each time and him being too small to reach your neck with his current size, he transformed to become bigger than you. Unfortunately, while struggling to get the stethoscope out of his reach, you got closer to the edge and, when he snatched it from your hands, he accidentally knocked you over the railing. Being like him a devil fruit user, you couldn't swim.

You had just enough time to hear a "ZOROOOOOOOOOOOOOO" before the silence of the sea engulfed all the ambient noise. Before you could sink too much, Zoro dove in turn then grabbed you by the arm and brought you back to the ship where you spat out all the water you had swallowed. Chopper took the opportunity to jump on you, crying while apologizing for having put you in the water. You also reassured him about your health and apologized for wanting to bother him.

𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄

[loubombshell]

Billy when he's hiding you.

"Did you do it, Bill? Did you pull the trigger on my wife? My son? My daughters?" Frank asked his friend, his former friend.

Frank was sitting on a chair, his hands tied with a zip tie and in front of him, Billy Russo. Everything is going according to his plan and he had nothing to lose anymore.

That's the point.

In this world, everything is governed by a balance. There's what you stand to gain and what you stand to lose. And when you think you've got nothing to lose, you become overconfident.

"No, I wasn't there that day. Because if I was there I wouldn't miss. I would've shoot you, right in the head." Billy leaned down to Frank to look him into his eyes, showing him he was speaking the entire truth.

"They loved you." Frank started "My kids loved you and you know what's the worst thing? I'm searching. I'm searching every fucking day but they aren't here anymore." He added and a little tear rolled down his cheek, mixing together with the blood.

Billy listened carefully to Frank and never looked away from him.

"You just do me a favor with killing me, alright? You win, now shoot me." Frank leaned forward.

Billy put his hands on his hips while a little smirk built up on his lips.

"What is it?" Frank asked him "you can't, can you?" He asked confidently and leaned back in the chair. He wasn't afraid of the death anymore.

"Oh Frankie boy, you're feeling so confident right now. Thinking you got nothing to lose but what if I tell you, that you have?" Billy asked him chuckling.

Frank shook his head.

"You killed my family. Everyone I loved is gone. Maria, My Junior, Lisa and Y/N" He remembered back. "They're all gone just because of you." Frank said and couldn't stop some more tears rolling down, mixing together with the blood on his cheek.

Billy laughed "well not everything of that is right." He told him and left the room.

"What do you mean?!" Frank shouted after him.

Y/N sat in an extra room, hands tied together and everything around her was dark. She was Frank's oldest daughter and not dead. The girl was alive, just because of a bullet that never fully hit her. She got a big scar of it on her shoulder, but she never died because of that. When she was lying in the hospital, Billy visited her all the time and took her with him. He cared for her like a real uncle would.

Sadly she didn't know, that he was the reason of her family's dead. He never told her that her father was still alive.

He hide her, all this time.

The door of the room opened and the light was killing the girls eyes. She closed them immediately and tried to open them just a bit. She saw Billy in the door frame.

"What is that all about?" Y/N asked him immediately. "Why did you locked me in here?" She added

Billy looked down to her and helped her to stand, by pulling her up by her tied hands.

"It's showtime." Was the only thing he said and walked her out of the room, her legs were still wobbly of the many hours sitting.

Billy lead her to a disgusting looking room and someone in the middle of it, tied to a chair.

She knew that figure better than herself, it was her father.

But, that wasn't possible, he was dead.

Y/N saw him dying.

Frank looked up and saw Billy coming back but with someone behind him.

Is that?

No it couldn't be.

Y/N was dead. He saw it.

"Dad?!" He heard and would notice that voice under millions of voices.

"Y/N?!" She heard and knew, it was really her father.

Y/N pulled away from Billy immediately and ran to her father to hug him tightly, she put her tied hands behind his neck and pressed herself against him, starting to cry.

Frank struggled against the zip tie on his hands, he wanted to hug her back. Holding her in his arms again, after so long.

"I missed you. I missed you so much my babygirl" Frank whispered in her ear and they pressed onto each other so much, scared of being pulled apart again.

Billy watched the whole scene with his arms crossed. He walked to both of them and pulled the girl away from her father.

"No! Go away!" She screamed and don't want to leave her father again.

"Come on now!" Billy screamed back and pulled her away aggressively while he pushed her down on her knees.

Frank was still struggling strongly against the ties on his hands looking to his daughter.

"Let her go! I swear I'll kill you, Bill!" Frank shouted and couldn't get rid of the stupid ties.

Billy put his hands on her shoulder, pressing her down to the ground.

"Oh, don't say something like that in front of your own daughter. I cared for her, when you couldn't, understand? I gave her a warm bed, food, picked her up from school." Billy explained looking down to her. "And that's all I get back? Shit that hurts." He said smirking.

"Let her go Bill, she has nothing to do with it." Frank told him looking down to her "please, let her go." He added one more time.

Billy laughed about this.

"Now you're getting soft, Frankie? Your family was always a weakness." He shook his head and let go of you, taking out a gun.

"You were a part of this, you asshole! You were part of the family and now? Everything that's left is a fucking coward, you don't know what family means! No wonder your mother left you alone!" Y/N screamed.

Frank looked up to Bill and saw the fire in his eyes. "Y/N, don't do this." Her father said, afraid he would hurt her in front of him and he couldn't defend her.

Billy pulled his gun out and raised his chin while he pointed it at her forehead.

"NO!" Frank yelled immediately and struggled even more against the zip tie. His wrists started bleeding already, but he didn't care about that.

"Shut up now!" Billy yelled to everyone and took a deep breath, trying to calm down and he lowered his gun again.

Frank looked between his daughter and Billy and took a deep breath too, when he lowered his gun again.

"What is going on here?" A man walked through the door, wearing a blue shirt and a simply black jeans. One special think about him was the milky eye, he had.

Billy took a few steps back and looked to him. The man walked to Frank with a monotone face.

Frank didn't even notice the man, he looked down to his daughter. Never leaving her out of sight. He missed her so much and now, he couldn't get to her, they weren't even three meters apart.

The man looked to Frank and followed his look. "You missed her, didn't you?" He asked with a calmly voice.

"Shut up, Rawlings. Let her go, she doesn't have anything to do with all of that." Frank defended his daughter.

Rawlings just looked down to Frank and put his leader gloves on.

Her father watched him doing it and rolled his eyes about it. "Your stupid ass gloves. Is that a new pair or still the old one?" He asked him.

"That's a new pair, just for you." Rawlings explained and punched him one time with it.

Y/N watched the whole situation and wanted to end it immediately, she struggled against her tied hands too but couldn't get out of it.

Rawlings punched him a second and third time.

Her father was all bruised and full with blood now but smirked up to Rawlings shaking his head.

"You slap like a bitch, just like a little bitch." Frank laughed.

"Dad, don't do this." Y/N told him carefully, afraid of getting her father hurt even more.

Rawlings looked down to her and smirked.

"You got a smart little girl. We will make a deal, you give me the password and I'll let her go, how does that sound?" Rawlings asked him and put his bloody hand under her chin.

Frank would give him everything, if it means he can give her her freedom back.

"Alright, I'll give you the password, if you let her go." Your father said and she shook her head.

Rawlings smirked and all of them went to the computers.

Frank gave them everything they wanted, the password and he scanned his eye to open everything they needed.

"It's all done, now let her go." Frank said and looked to them.

Billy took her to her father and she hold her hands up for him to cut the ties. He took his knife out and did it.

Y/N ran immediately to her father and hugged him finally fully, with her hands tightly wrapped around his neck. Frank wrapped one arm around his little girl smiled a bit in her neck.

"I love you, I love you so much." Her father whispered in her hair and some tears rolled down her cheeks too.

"I love you too, Dad." She whispered back and they hold onto each other.

Rawlings watched the scene and pulled the girl back from her father and she had to let go of him, while she gave him a soft smile, assuring him she won't leave him again.

"Oh I almost forgot it." Rawlings said out of the blue and the young girl looked to him. "I still have unfinished business, I mean you're supposed to be dead by now." He added and looked to her too.

"I really hate unfinished business and since you're here now." The man said shrugging and took his gun out, holding it at her forehead.

"NO!" Frank screamed.

Boom!

Rawling shoot her in her forehead, she couldn't react so immediately and her lifeless body felt down on the cold ground.

Frank didn't stop screaming.

Rawling stepped away from the blood running towards his black shoes.

Billy looked down to her lifeless body and knew, he had to clean that up later.

They shine in her eyes, were gone now.

Forever.

[letarasstuff]

Hold On

Summary: This is based on the song "Hold On" from Chord Overstreet. After weeks and months of arguments, hurtful words and pain Spencer's daughter is convinced that this is the only option for both's happiness.

Warnings: attempted suicide (not specified how), hospitals, angst, sad, hurtful words, mean Spencer in the beginning

Wordcount: 2k

✨Masterlist✨ _____________________________

Loving and fighting, accusing, denying I can't imagine a world with you gone

The last few weeks weren’t easy in the Reid household. There is not one day, where no loud screamed arguments are thrown through the entirety of the apartment.

“(Y/N), you have to see things from my point of view, too! My job is demanding and I can’t be there for every little competition you have”, Spencer tries to reason with his daughter.

“I have to see things from YOUR point?! Little competition?! DAD! This was the math olympics and, mind you and your busy schedule, it was not the ‘petty’ school round. I went against people from the WHOLE country! Just- I- Sometimes it would be nice to feel like I have a father caring for me for at least an hour. But I see, your job is more important than your child.”

Her father looks at her, speechless. He didn’t know how far she came in that competition. (Y/N) hasn’t said a thing, didn’t make a noise about it. How is he supposed to know all that then?

“Just because I’m a profiler doesn’t mean I’m able to read your mind. Just try and cut me some slack here, I- I need you to understand how important the things I do are. Can you try to be a little less ignorant, please?”

It feels like Spencer has punched her in the guts. For years (Y/N) backed down, knowing that her father’s work is in fact important. He is saving life for crying out loud, but is it really that selfish to ask for his attention every once in a while? Ever since she is basically able to be on her own it seems like he stopped caring for her.

“Ignorant? Oh Dad, you really are an amazing profiler”, the teenager says, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “You know what? Try and profile that!” She begins to walk out of the living room, showing him the bird. Seconds later her door smashes into the lock.

The joy and the chaos, the demons we're made of I'd be so lost if you left me alone

Is he really that bad of a father?

When (Y/N) was born, he swore to himself to be the opposite of his own. Spencer wanted to be there for his daughter any time she wanted him to. School dances, spelling competition, kindergarten graduation, the whole nine yards.

But when was the last time they did something as a family. From cooking and eating dinner together nearly every night they went to occasionally seeing the other at the breakfast table before heading out.

Spencer understands her now. He is not better than his father at the moment. He just missed a big event in his daughter’s life and blames it on her. He called her ignorant, even though he is the one that didn’t pay attention. The oh so amazing profiler forgot to show his child that he loves her. That she is more important to him than anything in his life. He needs her in order to function, her love is the only thing that motivates him to do anything.

He knows he has to talk to (Y/N) about it, he was wrong and mean. Spencer just wants to give her time to cool off.

Meanwhile the teenager sits on her bed, staring at the wall. He did it again. He said these hurtful words. Tears stream down her face, but she is numb to them.

Everytime he calls her something, (Y/N) memorizes it. She doesn’t have an eidetic one, but when it’s about mean things, everybody has an elephant’s memory.

Ignorant.

Selfish.

Egoistic.

Childish. And many more.

And her father is right. She is all of the above and so much more.

Maybe he is better off without her. Better off without having to act like he cares for her.

She is a burden, she knows that. Her mother knew that from the beginning, why else would she have left them? Left her? Nobody’s life wouldn’t be better, if she isn’t in it anymore.

(Y/N) thought long and hard about this. Tonight just confirms her thoughts and boostes her decision.

Quietly she makes her way over to the bathroom, locking the door without making a noise. Hidden under towels is her little box. The contents she complained about using for so long.

You locked yourself in the bathroom Lying on the floor when I break through I pull you in to feel your heartbeat Can you hear me screaming? Please don't leave me

Twenty minutes have passed since (Y/N) smashed her door. Spencer hopes it is enough time for a teenager to cool off. He knocks on her door, waiting for an answer.

Nothing.

He tries again.

Nothing.

“Sweetheart? May I come in?”

The silence is louder than any gunshot he heard.

“Sweetheart, I want to apologize. May I open the door?”

Still nothing.

Spencer enters the room, finding it vacant. Oh of course, the moment he wants to talk with her she is in the bathroom. The Reids always had a thing for timing.

He knocks at the bathroom door. “Sweetheart, are you in there? Of course you are. Dumb question. I- I want to apologize. What I said wasn’t right and it was hurtful. Can- can you come out? There are a few things I have to make right.”

To his bewilderment there is no answer. No noises. A whole lot of nothing. This scares Spencer. “(Y/N), please say something. I care. I do. I love you, please answer me”, he desperately says.

Still no answer.

Spencer feels like he doesn’t have a different choice. He takes a step back and a deep breath, remembering what Derek taught him. With a loud crash he kicks the door open.

There she lies. His child. His daughte. The one human he promised to protect no matter what.

Her body lifeless, a small box next to her. Spencer identifies the contents immediately. His heart drops faster than he thought it to be possible.

In an instant he kneels next to (Y/N), pulling her in. His hands are shaking as he tries to take her pulse. “No no no no. NO! (Y/N), baby please open your eyes. Don’t leave me, no! You can’t do that, I love you, I love you so much. Don’t leave me, I need you!”

Hold on, I still want you Come back, I still need you Let me take your hand, I'll make it right I swear to love you all my life Hold on, I still need you

(Y/N) is in and out of consciousness. The dark seconds are terrifying to her. She regrets her choice.

In the seconds she is conscient, she hears a warm voice. The teenager feels safe now that it is there. At first the voice is quiet and blurry, but she is still able to catch a few words.

“Don’t” “Me” “Love you” “Much” “Need”

As her body finally slips away, she feels at ease. These words, it feels like lotion on her wounds. Because she also loves the voice and its person. She needs them like they need her.

Long endless highway, you're silent beside me Driving a nightmare I can't escape from Helplessly praying, the light isn't fading Hiding the shock and the chill in my bones

Spencer acts quickly. He knows his daughter doesn’t have much time left. He picks her up, trying to grab as many important things on his way out as possible. The genius runs to his car, hoping and praying to all the gods above that it will work after months of not using the vehicle. The motor does turn on to his relief.

The drive to the hospital feels longer than any roadtrip Spencer ever went on. The seconds tickle down and just like that (Y/N)’s chances. Chances of a happy ever after with him in her life, hopefully.

Not once does she move, her body looking more like a doll than a human being. Spencer just prays that it won’t be like this for long. He needs her, the light of his life. She can’t fade, she is not allowed to. It will break him. Darken his own light.

He has to be strong now. The glass is half full, the hospital only a few minutes away. (Y/N) will make it. Spencer doesn’t have any other option than that.

They took you away on a table I pace back and forth as you lay still They pull you in to feel your heartbeat Can you hear me screaming? Please don't leave me

“I need a doctor! A nurse! Somebody! My daughter, she-” Spencer screams, entering the ER with her lifeless body in his arms. He can’t end the sentence. But it’s also not necessary. A whole team of people crowd around the young man, one of them pulling a stretcher behind him.

Reluctantly Spencer lowers (Y/N) on it, knowing that he can’t do anything more. His child’s fate lies in the hands of the medical staff now. He has to trust them with her. With his lifeline.

One doctor takes her arm, trying to take a pulse. He shouts something, but Spencer’s ears are deaf to his words. Everything goes silent as they pull her away. Away from him.

He falls to his knees as reality hits him. He may not be a father any longer. And it’s his fault and his fault only.

“Please don’t leave me”, Spencer whispers.

Hold on, I still want you Come back, I still need you Let me take your hand, I'll make it right I swear to love you all my life Hold on, I still need you

Lights flash her. They hurt her eyes. But there is a greater pain (Y/N) can’t locate where it’s coming from. Where is her father? She needs him. She has to apologize. There are so many things she wants to say to him. To reassure him that she knows her decision was wrong.

As people continue to scramble around her, the pain intensifies. It becomes nearly unbearable and stops suddenly. The last thing she hears after a shrill high pitched tone is the voice of her father.

“I love you.”

I don't wanna let go I know I'm not that strong I just wanna hear you Saying, "Baby, let's go home" Let's go home Yeah, I just wanna take you home

“Family of (Y/N) Reid?” A doctor asks into the waiting room, looking exhausted. Spencer looks up from the floor. He memorized every little bump while pacing back and forth. He hasn’t called anybody. He doesn’t want to alarm then, not now. The young doctor needs time to understand what’s happening.

“Is she breathing?” is his first question. The doctor's face takes a pitiful look. “We stabilized her. But (Y/N) is still not through. We can’t say if she makes it through the night. If she does, we are sure she will be on a good way to a full recovery. Tonight will be critical for that. But (Y/N) showed us she is a fighter, maybe the chances aren’t that bad.”

Spencer is led through several halls to her room. He sits down in an uncomfortable hospital chair next to his daughter’s bed. Her hand is cold against his warm one. His are still shaking as he brushes a strand of her hair out of her face.

The only thing that Spencer wants right now is for (Y/N) to open her eyes and ask him to go home. He wants to take her there so desperately. But he can’t. Because he is the ignorant one.

“Hold on, I still want you Come back, I still need you, Sweetheart”, Spencer says, pressing a kiss onto her knuckles.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962

@ellyhotchner

[bontenten]

Sleeping Beauty

Pairing: Shirabu x f!reader WC: 5.6k Genre/Warnings: smut, fairy tale retelling, incest, dubcon/noncon, drugs (sleeping pill), somnophilia, abusive past relationship, implied rape (not Shirabu), panic attack, victim-blaming, hero-complex with a bit of god-complex, hints of yandere, uhh medical malpractice, Shirabu’s bangs

Summary: The real story of Sleeping Beauty is anything but beautiful. Shirabu will do everything he can to keep you in a safe haven where you can freely dance with your prince once upon a dream.

A/N: This is a part of the whorehouse intoxicated collaboration, rest of the pieces of this toxic journey can be found here! Thank you Ria and Angel for helping beta <3 Love you both so much.

Unofficial bgm: Once Upon a Dream & Once Upon a December 

"You'll never wash me from you," he sneers, pulling you back by a handful of hair. You feel a blanket of pain shoot across your scalp. "You'll never really get away. Time to wake the fuck up."

"G-get away from me!" 

You thrash and kick your legs wildly hoping something will land. The moment you hear a pained grunt and feel his grip loosen, you scramble up to your feet and run. Your shoes grate against wet cement as you take off. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears as you will your legs forward one after another. The caw of birds seem to act as a beacon leading you through the twists and turns of the terrain.

A left turn here, two blocks straight. Past the corner store and beyond the stoplight. Three blocks. Right turn. Two Blocks. Five steps away. Four...Three..Two...Safety...

----

"In the forest, the princess played with a lot of animal friends. She grew up there in the cottage with three fairies looking after her."

Thunder claps and lightning strikes outside.

"It's so loud Kenjirou-nii!" you cry, burying yourself into Shirabu's arms.

"Shh, I'm here," Shirabu coos, rocking you back and forth until your sobs subside. "One day, the princess was singing with the songbirds..."

Shirabu begins to recount the fairytale of Sleeping Beauty to you, slowly easing your mind away from the turbulence outside.

"Do you think you can sleep now?"

You shake your head and jump again when the thunder claps over the roof of the house.

"It's okay, I'm right here. Big brother’s always going to protect you."

"Like the prince protecting the princess?"

"Yes, exactly. You're always my princess, now go to sleep. I'll wake you when the sun's up.”

After a while, you calm down and slowly drift into sleep with your breaths evening out. Shirabu pulls the covers over both of you and enters sleep as well.

The winds continued to howl outside the window...the branches tapping...tapping against the window...tap...tapping…

----

Shirabu Kenjirou opens his eyes. He had just fallen asleep while studying for the third time that night. There is no use staying at the library if he is going to treat it as a hotel; he’ll be better off going home first. He yawns and stretches his neck, then packs his bags to return to his apartment. There are few students left in the building at this ungodly hour. Dark clouds loom overhead and the air is filled with the pitter patter of autumn rain hitting cement. Shirabu zips up his coat, opens his umbrella, and walks into the dark.

You would have been so frightened by this sort of weather, whimpering under your blankets, counting sheep with shaky breaths. Just like how you did in that dream of his earlier.

While growing up, Shirabu hadn't cared all that much about anything else considering he spent most of his time with his studies or playing volleyball. Although there was you, his little sister, he figured you had your little bubble anyway. But on a stormy night, you teetered down the hall after finding your parent’s room locked. Afraid and sleepy, you looked for comfort elsewhere and arrived at Shirabu’s room.

Shirabu had been most irritated and decided to shoo you out with strings of curses and profanities, but he couldn’t. The sight of your form huddled right outside his bedroom, with young eyes pleading for him took hold of a bit of humanity in Shirabu’s heart. So, he let you into his room, a safe haven, and eventually a world that was composed of only the two of you against the rest of the world.

Shirabu has known for a long time that you are the most brilliant, precious, and purest thing he’ll ever encounter. Always perfect. Forever unsullied. 

There are many things that Shirabu wants to shield you from. If he can secure one more hour of innocence, one more day, one lifetime, he’ll do so without a moment of hesitation. The real world is unlike the fairy tales that you hear about while growing up. 

The real story of Sleeping Beauty is anything but beautiful. There isn’t a handsome prince the princess meets in a forest. No color changing cake. No kiss of love. In the real story, the princess is put into an endless slumber and has her virginal body taken by some unknown beast of a king, used like a rag for his carnal pleasure. When he leaves, the sleeping girl is then forgotten like trampled daisies under the hooves of horses. And she will wake to find her womb bulged with bastard life as a result of the damnation. The stretches clawing around the navel as permanent reminders that nothing will wash him from her.

The real world is dark. Horrible. Wretched. Dirty. Filled with suffering. That is why he, Shirabu Kenjirou, responds to the call to action and enters a life of service. In his heart he yearns to save and help, even if just a little, by becoming a prince with a white coat. He will not give up trying to salvage pieces of humanity he’ll touch, and in the process, carve out a haven, a little forest with a cottage, for his dearest sister to safely live in.

It has been a while since he last heard from you. Partly his own fault, really. Ever since Shirabu entered university and then medical school, the number of times you two would meet up dwindled. The hours on the phone became texts and soon after, communication vanished into mostly silence.

You are in university now, grown up and stepping into the real world, but that doesn't mean you are no longer his little sister. And because you are the one and only, Shirabu feels that he should try to do a better job as an older brother and check-in with you to see how you are doing. So, Shirabu takes out his phone that’s still on silent after studying.

27 missed calls from Sister 

Shirabu pauses in his tracks and returns the call. Cars zoom by on the streets while he waits for the line to connect. 

He was right, you must have been frightened.

The first call doesn’t connect, so Shirabu immediately tries the second time. You pick up on the third attempt.

"It's me, I'm so sorry I didn't pick up earlier."

"K-Kenjirou-nii..." your voice weakly translates over the speaker. 

Shirabu presses the phone closer to his ear and turns up the volume. "Where are you now," he demands. "At school?"

"...Your place..." Your voice sounds so dangerously faded, like petals beaten to the ground from the rain.

Shirabu bolts. His apartment is just a couple blocks away. Around the corner just up ahead. Shirabu makes a sharp turn and splashes through a puddle. 

"Stay...on the phone with me," he urges, paying no mind to his soaked shoes and socks.

You nod in understanding, as if he’ll hear your action.

"I'm almost there okay, almost."

Shirabu isn’t lying. A few moments later you hear the frantic footsteps coming closer to you. The stomping noises make your skin crawl, but the familiar face of your brother melts those fears away. He appears with his wet bangs stuck to his face and his shoulders heaving up and down. It’s him, your niichan, your prince finally here.

You scramble up and dive into his open arms, in relief that you are safe at last, as you finally allow tears to mix with rain.

"I was so scared. I missed you so much, Kenjirou-niichan," you sob into Shirabu's wet coat. "Where were you, where were you?"

"I'm sorry. I'm here now, I'm sorry," Shirabu apologizes, "Let's go inside first, alright? We’re both drenched.”

----

Under the bright lights of the living room, Shirabu gets a better look at you. You catch his discerning eyes studying you up and down, visually tracing the markers of your demise. That’s when you crack.

“Kenjirou-nii...the real world, the world is a horrible place. I trusted him, you know? I trusted that man.”

Foolish and stupid, Shirabu wants to say. It’ll be easy to simply yell at you.

Shirabu is not someone without a temper. He was quite known for it back in his high-school days. The bruises, the scars that did not heal well. Shirabu reminds himself to keep his composure, especially in front of you. He’s to be a doctor. He’s to be a protector, a savior. And with the training he already has so far, Shirabu knows he’s already as good as any board certified, licensed white-robed saint. He just needs to do what he’s meant to do. Heal. Clean. Purify.

After listening to your brief tale, Shirabu tells you not to worry about anything else tonight other than take a hot shower and get some rest. He gives you a reassuring smile and sends you off to the bathroom with towels and a large t-shirt.

While you wash-up and lose your thoughts piecing together the messy events of the night, Shirabu paces in the living room after he changes his own wet clothes. Nevermind the medical books he still needs to pour over, all Shirabu wants to do right now is track down the culprit and stick a scalpel through his socket. No, that’s just too easy. That bastard deserves something much more horrible, a slow and patient torture, a death within grasp but just out of reach. As if agreeing with Shirabu’s thoughts, your phone on the coffee table lights up. Shirabu picks up the device and watches the notifications pop-up.

Shirabu sees an unknown number call you. He doesn’t pick up, letting the phone ring while he reads the numbers across the screen and commits them to memory. The phone calls stop and an onslaught of texts follow; some coherent and others far from decipherable. There are messages of broken apologies and confessions of persistent love. Requests for you to go back to him. Shirabu scoffs at the language.

Shirabu continues to wait with impassive eyes, but the tight death grip around the device gives away the boiling rage beneath his skin. How dare the man behind that accursed number treat you, his little sister and princess, in such a foul manner. This beast who stole from you. Who is the reason behind the tainting of your now sullied innocence. 

Finally after a few minutes of silence, the screen lights up with a series of curses and condemnation that show the man’s true colors. A morphed beast due to your lack of response. Shirabu scrolls through the list of notifications again with impassive eyes, but the tight death grip around the device gives away the boiling rage beneath his skin. 

"You will pay," Shirabu seethes, taking a knife from the kitchen and ramming the sharp end straight into the device glass. The phone buzzes desperately and goes dark. You have no use for that phone anymore after all of this anyway, and the cursed number is already memorized by Shirabu for his own purposes.

----

Shirabu’s room is tidy. The two bookshelves on either side of the table are filled with books, photos, and many other accolades. That’s your older brother alright: perfect, proper, always right. Always right about everything, except one thing. The world you know really isn’t the wonderland he told you about growing up. Not at all. 

You bury your face into Shirabu's pillows and will yourself to sleep. You are safe here in his bed. It’s a haven...safely tucked in a forest. You are in a forest. The trees and the breeze. Songbirds are singing. 

You can dance here, twirl about...safe...free…

The trees melt.

Birds squawk and screech, scampering away…

Ink engulfs you....swallowing you whole

Falling...falling…

"You'll never wash me from you," he sneers. "You'll never really get away. Time to wake the fuck up."

NO! you try to scream. You can’t, the weight on your chest sinks you deeper, only silence is uttered...choked…

Wake up.

Wake up.

"Wake up!"

Your eyes fly open and you see him. Him. A blood curdling shriek finally tears through your throat and you thrash. "Getawaygetawaygetaway! NO!"

"It's me, hey, it's me. You're okay, you're safe." Shirabu’s eyes widen with worry at your outburst, but gives you ample space to breathe and compose yourself.

This familiar voice. It does not belong to him. It’s definitely not him.

"...Kenjirou-nii?" you ask quietly. The shadow is backlit from light coming in through the door and your vision is still fuzzy from the nightmare.

A tender hand closes around yours. "Shhh, it's okay, you're okay now. It was a bad dream, you're safe. You're safe. I'm here."

Cold sweat runs down your temples. Your breath is fast and shallow.

"Follow me, okay. Breathe in..." Shirabu takes a deep breath. You follow his voice and movement as if they are lanterns guiding you through a maze. "And breathe out. Good, you're doing great. Breathe in...and out..."

You feel your mind slowly beginning to clear with each inhale and exhale. Finally, you see Shirabu clearly again. You can smell the scent of his body wash from him. The texture of the blanket rubs against your fingertips. You’re here in Shirabu’s room. Safety. Haven. 

"I'll be right back," Shirabu tells you, before leaving you for a moment and going towards the bathroom. He opens the medicine cabinet, pops out a few white pills from a box.

"Here," he says holding out the small tablets in the middle of his palm. The off-white seems to almost glow in the dark.

"It's zolpidem, a sleeping pill I sometimes take for insomnia. It'll help you for tonight, and then we'll get you something else tomorrow that'll work better."

You look at the pill and then at Shirabu. Shirabu is someone you love and trust with all your heart. His embrace is your anchor and haven when the rest of the world has turned a blind eye. He’s your brother. One and only. There’s no reason not to trust him.

"I won't see him will I?"

"No," Shirabu affirms. The pills don't really manipulate dreams, but if reassuring you can placebo sweet dreams, then what harm really is there? He didn’t pass Ethics with top marks for nothing.

Shirabu gently presses the pill body against your lips and you part them, allowing the small object to slip through. He feeds another and you open your mouth obediently. You look at Shirabu’s eyes which are fixated on the way your lips wrap around his three fingers.  Kenjirou-nii’s lashes are so nice and pretty, you think. 

One gulp of water later, and you feel nothing but a cold sensation traveling down your throat and disappearing into your belly.

"It'll take about half an hour, I'll stay with you until you fall asleep," Shirabu says. He supports your back and gently lowers you back into the comforts of the plush mattress. Shirabu will surely carry the same attentiveness and care when he becomes a full-fledged doctor. You are sure of it. The big brother you grew up with has truly grown up and matured. But no matter how much he changes or how much you mess up, he’ll always be your big brother.

"Can you lie down next to me again, like when we were young?"

An innocent request from a patient-in-need. Shirabu complies and lies down next to you.

"I remember when we were young, I would make you dance with me to live out my princess dreams. You remember?”

Afternoons next to the stereo, crayons scattered on the floor. The smell of something baking in the kitchen. Shrieks and laughter in the living room. Even though Shirabu would be mildly annoyed at first, he found humoring your imagination to be a pleasant and soothing experience. Even he was sometimes whisked away from textbooks into a magical forest that was just you and him. The stress and burdens of everything else all seem so much lighter on his shoulders when you’re simply just there.

"Of course I remember, silly."

You hum softly and continue waiting for the medicine in your bloodstream to make its way through your body.

"Do you...remember the sleeping beauty story you would always tell me?"

"Yea?"

You pause for a moment before quietly asking, "Kenjirou-niichan, why did you lie to me?"

Shirabu does not respond and only glances over at you, eyeing your closed lids. Closed though they may be, the tiny beads of glimmering tears are beginning to emerge from between the lashes and trail down your cheeks.

"There is no prince, Kenjirou-nii...no prince for me, no one...niichan...," you mumble between your breaths. The drug is starting to take its effect, ushering your mind into another dimension far away from hurt and pain. It swallows you like a pit of ink, sinking you deeper and deeper...

----

Kenjirou-nii, why did you lie? Earlier, Shirabu felt his breath hitch when you asked that. 

He calls out your name softly, brushing over your cheeks, and listening to your soft breathing for a good while to make sure you are in fact asleep. At long last, maybe this is a good dream.

A lie? No! Not a lie, Shirabu wants to tell you. For you, his dearest sister, who only ever deserves happiness, in the rawest and truest form. You are supposed to have a life of others giving gifts of love, never having to offer anything of your own.

Shirabu feels his blood boil once more at the thought of that man who stole your innocence away. The one who took your body for his own carnal pleasures. The one who dared to steal you from him, Shirabu Kenjirou. If Shirabu's nails are not kept in immaculate condition for his profession, no doubt, his grip would be drawing blood from his palms.

Those marks and scars across your skin. Shirabu traces his finger down your neckline and along your arms...

Your head turns from left to right and you manage to shrug the big collar of the t-shirt off your shoulder. Shirabu can see, under the glow of moonlight from the cleared night sky, a nasty mark. A permanent mark. And before he realizes it, his fingers are already traveling over, tracing along and testing out the patterns and bumps.

Shirabu feels his chest burn beyond the anger and fury. Guilt. Where was he all this time when you were suffering? Why hadn't you just called him then? Anguishing thoughts of his little sister writhing in pain under that beast's grasps tear Shirabu apart. Did you cry? Were you scared? All these years studying for what? For what noble purpose is Shirabu trying to pursue if he can’t even save those closest to him?

Shirabu continues to search for any other marks or discolorations that are splayed across your skin like a map. It is what it is now. But Shirabu still has his calling. He is a man who answers to a life of service and healing: a prince in a white coat. No matter what happens, even if you’re tainted now, you’ll still be his little sister.

Even if your naivety and stupidity got you into the mess in the first place. Of course, why didn’t you listen to your brother’s warnings and stay in a safe haven like a good girl? Stay in your room and study for your future like a good student? Like him? Why did you think running off for fun, enjoying “youth and freedom” like the other degenerates would be a good idea?

Shirabu grits his teeth. Look at you now, damaged and past the point of no return, used. Injured and ill. Still, he needs to get the full story first, and see where else you might possibly be hurt. A complete diagnosis needs to come first. After the messages from the man, Shirabu is all the more certain that there are more clues left, and he needs evidence. He needs to know. The comforter is pulled away and careful hands examine the lines of your palms.

Once upon a time, you grabbed Shirabu’s hand and tried to use the methods of schoolyard palm-reading on him. You even exclaimed, “Kenjirou-niichan, this line means you’ll live a long life! And we can be together forever because my life line is really long too!”

Shirabu smiles at the memory and presses a kiss to the center of your palm. It must have been so painful, how could you have possibly endured? But you did and you survived. You are so brave. 

Probing fingertips trace across your collarbone and push the fabric of the large t-shirt up to reveal your torso. Shirabu blinks, realizing that this is now the body of a fully matured woman. You take a deep breath in your sleep from the cold air running across your exposed breasts. Shirabu can see the nipples perk up from the chill and hesitantly touches the bud with a hint of academic curiosity.

“Mmm, that tickles...” you giggle softly. Your hand pushes Shirabu's off and scratches the same spot he just traced, fondling your own breast briefly before letting go and continuing to sleep. Even grown up now, still the same adorable little sister.

Shirabu lets himself tease your nipples and knead the soft flesh of your breasts, toying around and watching your cute little expressions. Sometimes you’ll respond again and paw the tickling hands away. It’s fun, like playing a little game.

But when he lets his eyes wander down, Shirabu’s eyes narrow. Below the breasts, on either side of the waist, Shirabu sees damning marks of deep purple turning into a disgusting yellow. Like cursed claw marks. Shirabu hesitantly presses on the bruise, watching the color transform under his touch. He stops immediately when you begin to whine in pain. Carefully, Shirabu presses a kiss on these markings too, just like any other little injury you sustained in the past. A kiss so the pain flies away.

Foolish, foolish girl. Naive princess. Why did you let this happen to yourself? In the future, don’t run anymore. Stay here where it’s safe. 

There is just one place left Shirabu did not examine yet, a hidden spot that is supposed to be locked away that someone else discovered. Shirabu looks down at the dark lace panties obstructing his view like gates of a castle. It’s a poor “keep out” message; if anything it entices anyone who sees it to come in. A tempting invitation to see what’s behind.

Shirabu allows his clean fingers to easily slip through and begin a thorough investigation through the soft folds of flesh. His fingertips dip into a pool of wetness. He furrows his brows. When did this happen? 

Why are you wet? His eyes focus on your sleeping face that still has a relaxed smile. What are you dreaming about that makes your body like this? Shirabu drags the fingers covered with your slick to circle your clit. In response your thighs clamp and twitch. So sensitive, still inexperienced, even if you’re sullied. 

Shirabu slides the soaked panties off and pushes your thighs apart so he can continue his examination. That person must have touched this area too, his fingers have been here, and then…plunged his fingers into you like so. Your body trembles as Shirabu’s two fingers probe in, fully examining your inner anatomy. Soft, warm muscles clamp tightly around his digits and try to stop them from entering further. It’s for your good and his knowledge. He pushes deeper into you, dragging alongside the bumps and ridges of your walls.

You whine loudly and arch your back when Shirabu’s fingers find a sweet spot. Your head shifts on the fluffy pillows.

“Did you like that? Did that feel good?” Shirabu asks, probing your hole once more. As if in agreement, your body twitches again and your hips automatically roll against the palm, pressing your sensitive clit into the surface. Your breathy sighs are soft and sweet, unlike any other sound Shirabu has heard from you. It’s like a spell that enchants Shirabu and beckons for him. He shudders as he feels his cock responding to each noise coming out from between your lips.

It’s good, something feels so good. Under the sunlight, you feel warmth pooling throughout your body. There are tingles in the soles of your feet, like grass tickling skin while running around barefoot. Your body feels so light and relaxed. It’s warm and you’re not in this forest alone. The shape of a prince appears. You know he’s a prince because his voice is gentle and his touch feels safe.

If this feels good, it’s only because this is an act of love. If this makes you happy, it’s because it’s love. If it’s love, it’ll fill the empty pools of hurt. And if you’ll be whole again, you’ll heal. Shirabu makes up his mind and caresses your cheeks tenderly, So beautiful. Always beautiful. A sleeping beauty. His hand reaches to the waistband of his pants.

The prince rests his hand on your hips and excitement jolts through your body. You wrap your arms around his neck and smile back.

Shirabu freezes the moment he feels your arms wave into the air and reach for him. The sneaky fingers run across his skin.

"Dance..with me," you slur before falling back into silence.

The alarm washes away when he confirms you are still sound asleep.

"Are you dreaming of your prince?" Shirabu asks while tearing open a condom packet. Medical safety. He should have worn gloves earlier too, if he wasn’t already too entranced. "Dancing? Then I'll dance with you."

Forever. I'll be your prince, my sweet darling.

Shirabu runs the length of his hardened cock along your glistening slit. Rather than take, rather than pillage and steal...Shirabu will give. Replace the gross markers of pain with soft fleeting kisses. Replace the innocence stolen with love given unconditionally. Shirabu will give you all the love you deserve and more.

Shirabu’s fingers weave into your delicate ones, the palms join together, and your fingertips automatically lock with your niichan’s. It’s the starting position for a waltz in the forest, once upon a dream.

The man takes the initiation, the leading step. Shirabu closes the gap, sinking his length into your sweet embrace in a fluid and wet squelch. You respond, digging your nails and tightening your grip on his hands. Your other arm hugs around your partner, your niichan, pulling his body close against yours. Your blank eyes flutter open briefly to look straight at the shadow of Shirabu. Of course, you don’t see anything, you’re actually in a warm forest shyly gazing at your prince. Shirabu almost thinks that he woke you up, but you only let out a quiet moan before your body relaxes again.  

Shirabu groans and rests his cock in your warm and tight embrace. This is the way it should be, how it ought to be done. No one else can lead you in this dance the way he can. The way he will. This is not the self-fulfilling king stealing the princess’s virginal body for his own pleasure. This is the loving prince who loves and gives selflessly. Your big brother knows you the best, knows how you’ll respond, knows how you’ll like it. Shirabu slowly draws himself out and thrusts back in.

The prince presses himself so close to you, and you inhale sharply. During the waltz, you always have to maintain body contact with your partner. You feel his breath on your cheeks, and you’re sure he can feel your hammering heartbeat. The intimacy builds in the tender but secure hold. The steps are quick but the movements are not violent. It’s just enough that the heat stirring in your core spreads throughout your body.

Breaths become more labored and raspy into the act. Shirabu sees your face morph into bliss as he continues his pace and rocks his hips into you. His own brows furrow as Shirabu feels his grip over rationality falling apart with each thrust. Each flutter of your walls against him only invites him to come in deeper, farther. Harder. 

“...K-Kenjirou-nii...,” you softly cry out.

Your honeyed voice is a thick syrup trapping Shirabu, coaxing him. It’s like a melody inviting a weary traveler, a lost prince, in for rest. Your voice, your body, it’s tantalizing.

"Too good," Shirabu groans to himself. Why is it so good? You, his little sister, how? He looks down towards where he sees his cock, covered with your fluids, disappear into you. The thin latex barrier doesn’t stop how close the two of you are, Shirabu feels each clench and spasm around him. “My little sister, I didn’t know…” 

Shirabu can now understand just why that man did all that to you. Why that man wants to keep you by his side. Why he incessantly sends messages and tries to manipulate you back into their world.

It’s the only explanation, really, when you don’t even know how bewitching your body is. How enticing your voice is. Anyone would want to keep it as their own. Your warmth, your sweet, sweet hole. This cunt of yours is itself a safe haven. And Shirabu feels like he’s the one being made whole from you. It’s all because of you.

Each moan from you. Those gentle mewling cries, a witch’s spell, an incantation for addiction. That man is trying to manipulate you? How? When your whole existence manipulates everyone first, drawing them all in with the image of your unsullied purity.

Shirabu feels his impending release around the edge. His pace quickens and his thrusts meet with each of your twisting squirms. Your head tosses side-to-side on the pillow as your sleepy climax washes through.

Spin. Faster and faster in the forested ballroom. Twirl for the finale. You feel a dizzying jolt as the prince dips your body back. It’s a whirlwind of love. In your dream, the sunshine is so warm and growing so much hotter. It feels like you’re floating. So light and free. That prickling tickle in your feet is growing stronger until little fireworks set off across every corner of your body, filling you completely. The forest melts as the colors blend together in a dreamy painting. 

Euphoria, as Shirabu finishes spectacularly, clutching your sleeping body close to him in a messy ending pose. The final winds of the dead storm outside sound like a rumbling applause for this sinful waltz. He can hear his own pants and your shaky breaths mix into a fading duet. Shirabu lets himself bask for a moment, resting, entangled with you.

Everything makes sense now. He completely understands why the bastard king forces himself onto Sleeping Beauty. He completely understands why your allure is much too exquisite to pass on. Shirabu pulls out and carefully removes the condom, collecting the white essence you bewitched out from him into a little package with a tie. Dangerous little princess, that you are.

Even though Shirabu now fully understands the complete story after careful examination, there are still a few lines Shirabu will draw. One, that man has still committed a very grave sin, being the first to sample your purity, stealing that away from Shirabu? Damaging your flesh and skin? Unacceptable, he thinks as he tosses the used condom into the waste bin. A complete low-life who doesn’t know how to cherish. Punishment will be due.

Shirabu returns to the bed where your unconscious body is still sprawled between bunched sheets. His blank eyes study your spread legs and puffy cunt that’s still quivering every now and then. He taps his index finger against your sensitive clit. As if it is a magic button, your body briefly trembles on command. As if you are ready to enchant another unsuspecting traveler into your safe little haven. A little bit of fluid leaks out from your hole, presenting itself seductively. Welcome. 

Shirabu scoffs. And number two, you’ll be better off staying here with himself, your big brother. You’ll be safe here with a prince who knows best how to love you right, and give you the world. This is the way it should be; before you completely lose yourself into degeneracy and invite just about anyone into you. 

Those sleeping pills will be insufficient for the long-run. A different concoction while you are still healing from your terrible trauma will be needed. A cocktail of sorts that will target different needs. Yes. Shirabu files that thought away, putting it towards the top of his to-do list. There’s so many things he has to take care of. Too much pain in this world waiting for him to don white robes and be out there.

“But you’ll always come first on niichan’s list,” Shirabu whispers, slipping your panties back on and pulling the comforters over your body. He’ll never allow you to be sullied again. You’ll stay here in this safe haven, like a little cottage tucked away in the forest. Dream here. Find happiness with the only prince you need.

The first rays of dawn begin to brighten the sky, shooing away the cloak of night. The first songs from the birds announce the arrival of a new day. The morning light filters through the windows of the room, spilling over onto the bed and your quiet, unmoving form.

Time to wake up now, sleeping beauty.

[supernovafics]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇

pairing: dylan o’brien x best friend fem!reader

summary: in which dylan has been your best friend for as long as you could remember. your busy lives and schedules may have pushed both of your lives in vastly different directions as you’d gotten older, but somehow you two would always be led back to your hometown, and each other, during the holidays. however, one moment causes all of that to change. 

warnings: angst (what else is new), some fluffiness, mentions of past trauma (the maze runner incident), existential crises, explicit language

word count: 3.6k words

author’s note: idk why i decided to write something christmas related in the summer but it happened lmao (also i feel like it’s slightly important to mention that this takes place in 2016)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The rocks being thrown at your window were not what woke you up. Instead, you had been lying awake for hours; getting little to no sleep was something that you had become used to at this point.

However, on this specific night— or morning, depending on how one looked at it— you were glad that your sleep had been restless once again because it made it easy for you to get out of bed and walk to your window when the rocks began hitting it.

There was really no need for you to push open the curtains and check who was doing the throwing because, of course, it was Dylan. Ever since he moved onto your street in Hermosa Beach in middle school and the two of you easily became friends, he was the only person that would ever wake you up in the middle of the night with the soft pings of rocks, especially on this specific day at this specific time.

You waved at him and gestured that you would be down in a moment. You slipped on a random pair of sweatpants along with a hoodie and then placed the Christmas gift that you bought for him in the pocket. The item was small enough to fit in the not too big pocket of your hoodie; however, it did awkwardly protrude a bit.

All of this was a sort of unspoken tradition that the pair of you had developed over the many years you’d known each other. Meeting at five in the morning on Christmas day, walking to the beach that was only a few blocks away from your respective childhood homes, and exchanging Christmas gifts with each other as you both watched the sunrise. It started when you were in ninth grade, and you hadn't missed a year since, not even when the ending of high school pushed your lives in vastly different directions, especially since Dylan graduated a year before you and was almost immediately thrust into his acting career.

But, it didn't matter that Dylan's career took off, and you eventually decided to go to college in Santa Barbara, because, no matter what, you both would always come back for the holidays.

When you opened your front door and saw Dylan lingering by the sidewalk no more than ten feet away, you were quick to go toward him and pull him in for a tight embrace. It actually hadn't been too long since you’d last seen him, maybe only five or six months, but for some reason, it still felt as if the last time he was in front of you was last December.

"Hey," Dylan breathed out in a short greeting, his arms wounding around your waist.

“Hey to you too," You responded, a small smile gracing your features when you both pulled away, and you looked up at him. "How have you been?"

It was quiet for a few moments as you waited for him to answer the question, but eventually, you were met with no verbal response, and instead, Dylan simply shrugged. The short action made your heart constrict in the most painful way, and it was then that you noticed the light remnants of a scar peeking out from behind his dark hair that covered the majority of his forehead. You were quick to peel your eyes away from the scar and instead cast them down at your Converse-covered feet, but that didn't stop the memories from quickly coming back.

The Maze Runner accident had happened back in March, but to you, and you knew to Dylan as well, it felt as if it was just yesterday, especially considering the fact that he was still dealing with the unavoidable repercussions from it.

"Wanna walk?" You asked, finally looking up at him once again.

Dylan nodded. "Yeah."

A silence that could only be deemed as comfortable lingered between them as the two of you took the five-minute walk to the beach and sat down side by side on one of the random empty benches.

"Merry Christmas, Y/N," Dylan said as he handed a present over to you. The present was messily wrapped, something that was not at all uncommon when receiving gifts from Dylan, and the sight of it made you smile.

Before you unwrapped the gift, you pulled out the one you had for him and handed it over. "Merry Christmas, Dyl."

The nostalgic sound of wrapping paper ripping could be heard as you tore into your gift. A simultaneous shocked and happy yelp emitted from your lips when you held up a Harry Potter t-shirt. But, it wasn't just any Harry Potter t-shirt; it was one with a version of the Goblet of Fire movie poster on it, which was your all-time favorite movie in the series.

"Holy shit."

"It's the original merch that was sold when the movie came out," Dylan told you. He hadn't opened his gift yet, and instead, he was playing with the green bow placed on top of it; he always liked to see your reaction first.

You looked at Dylan and then back down at the shirt as you processed his words. "Wow, double holy shit. I would put it on if it wasn't freezing right now."

Dylan laughed a bit. "Very understandable."

“Why haven't you opened yours yet? I'm dying to see what you think of it," You said. You were now holding the t-shirt to your chest, genuinely feeling like a little kid on Christmas morning again.

Dylan finally began unwrapping your gift to him, and when all of the paper was peeled off, there was a square box. "Aw, a plain white box. Thank you so much. This is what I've always wanted."

You rolled your eyes and playfully bumped him with your shoulder. "Ha ha. Please save all of these bad jokes for your stand-up act; I can't wait to boo you off the stage along with everyone else."

"So, what I'm hearing is you don't think that becoming a comedian is going to be the next best career move for me?" Dylan asked. He attempted to make the question sound as serious as possible, but there was a joking undertone to his words.

You bit back your laughter. "Please just open the box already so I don't have to hurt your feelings by truthfully answering that question."

"Okay, we'll circle back to that topic later," Dylan smiled and then finally opened the white box to reveal a slightly faded baseball. When he picked it up, he ran his thumb over the black signature written on it. "Now it's my turn to say holy shit."

You could feel yourself smiling at his awestruck reaction, and you wondered if that was what you looked like when you saw the Harry Potter shirt. The baseball was signed by one of the players of the New York Mets that had been Dylan's favorite player when he was younger, and he'd even caught a ball hit by him when he went to a game before he moved to California.

"I've had this idea for years, but I could never find a baseball signed by him," You began explaining, the excitement clear in your voice. "But, last month, someone named Paul Todd posted this on eBay and I immediately bought it. God bless that old man. It's completely authentic and everything."

Dylan was quiet for a few moments as he simply looked at the baseball in his hands, a small joyful smile on his face, and it made you happy to see him so genuinely elated with the present.

"This just made my gift look like shit," He finally said, a light laugh falling from his lips.

"I have always been the superior gift giver. I think that's my hidden talent," You responded with a playful smirk.

Dylan placed the baseball back in its box and then looked at you. "Next year you will receive the best gift ever from me. It will completely top everything that you have ever given me."

"You're saying that as if I should feel upset about receiving a trip to Italy as a Christmas gift."

"A trip to Italy?"

"In my strong opinion, that would be the best gift ever," You said with a smile and then looked down at the t-shirt, which was now in your lap. "But, anyway, I don't think this gift is shit. I'm in love with this shirt already."

Dylan let out a joking, overexaggerated sigh in relief. "Phew, okay, since you think this gift is great, that means I don't have to do the trip to Italy next year."

"What? Did I say I like this t-shirt? I hate it! Harry Potter actually su— Fuck, I can't say this with a straight face," You laughed, and Dylan was quick to join in with you.

The joking statements leading up to the laughter hadn't even been the funniest things ever, but it didn't matter because this was probably the hardest you had laughed in a while, and you were both glad and unsurprised that it was with one of your favorite people in the entire world.

You missed joking around and laughing with him. You missed simply being with him.

Eventually, the laughter died off, but there was still a smile planted firmly on your face. You looked ahead at the darkness in front of you and the ocean that looked completely black; it was still kind of early, so the sun hadn't begun to rise just yet. Your back pressed against the wooden bench, and you let out a small sigh, your head finding Dylan's shoulder as you leaned against him.

"How have you been?" You asked him, your words coming out both soft and slightly quiet, and before the mood became too serious with your question that was nothing but serious, you attempted to lighten it. "And please no shrugs as a response this time. I don't wanna get a headache due to my head bouncing off your shoulder."

Dylan let out a breath of a laugh at your final statements but refrained from answering the question for a few moments.  

After what felt like forever, he sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "I honestly don't know. My mind has felt so fucked lately, thinking about everything. I swear I've been feeling every feeling known to man these past months."

"What are you feeling right now? In this moment?"

"I'm really happy with you. This is probably the only normal and familiar thing I've experienced in a while. But, of course, there's still that confused feeling in the back of my mind revolving around everything else." He paused for a brief moment before continuing, his next words came out quieter. "I don't even know if I want to go back to acting."

You lifted your head off his shoulder and looked at him as you pulled his hand into yours and gave it a light, reassuring squeeze.

"No matter what you decide. I'll be right there to support you," You told him and then added a "bro" at the end of her sentence along with a small smile. Whenever things became too deep in a conversation you two were having, one of you would always throw a "bro" or "dude" in there to bring some playfulness to the mood.

The corners of Dylan's perked up a bit. "So, you'll support me when I decide to become a comedian?"

You were unable to stifle your light laughter. "Yes, fine, fuck it. I'll be the loudest one laughing at all of your shows."

Dylan squeezed your hand back because he knew exactly how reluctantly true your words were. "Don't worry, I promise not to put you through that."

"Thank you."

"So, how have you been?"

"No."

"Oh, come on," Dylan said as he playfully poked your side. "I'm not gonna be the only one exposing my feelings."

You sighed and then hesitantly nodded. "Okay, okay."

The truth was you had been far from good lately. Your life was moving, but for some reason, you felt like you weren’t moving with it.

You felt stuck.

Stuck in a confusing mindset where you had absolutely no idea what you wanted to do with your life. You thought that identity crises usually happened in high school, but apparently, yours had come five years late. But, you knew that this delayed identity crisis had been your own doing because you had convinced herself that you would figure everything out once you were in college; and you were both lucky and smart enough to receive a full ride to UCSB.

And although you were finishing up your Master's degree in Creative Writing and had a TA job at the university with the department, which was the reason behind why you could even pay for the Master's program, something in your "should be great" life simply did not feel right.

However, you felt absolutely terrified to say any of that out loud because admitting it would only finally make that statement a wholehearted truth, instead of just a spiraling thought in your mind. And even though Dylan was your best friend and you knew you could tell him anything and not receive any sort of judgment, it still felt hard to let the words leave your lips.

You thought about the way to perfectly word everything, but nothing felt right. You pulled your hand away from Dylan's and covered your face as you let out an exasperated breath. "I can't figure how to say it all."

Dylan placed an arm around you and then mimicked the same question you had asked him not too long ago. "What are you feeling right now? In this moment?"

You would have both laughed and smiled at the fact that he was using your exact words if the current circumstances were different.

"Scared," You finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what the fuck I wanna do anymore, and actually, I don't think I really ever did. I only went to college because of the scholarship, and I convinced myself that I would figure my life out when I got there. And for a while, things felt right because I found creative writing and genuinely enjoyed it, but something doesn't feel right anymore. And I actually do like school. Because it's stable, and I am doing things, even if it's taking a dumbass test. But, it's about to be over soon, and I have no idea what I'm gonna do."

Your words were coming out like vomit, and nothing could stop it because finally, everything you had been feeling for so long was out of your head and put into the open.

"And don't get me wrong, I do love to write, but I don't know, I just can't see myself doing it for the rest of my life," You admitted and then let your next words come out quietly. "Honestly, I can't see myself doing anything. I'm so unhappy here."

You did not say it aloud, but you didn't think you were ever fully content there. Aside from Dylan and your parents, you never truly liked California. You had grown up there all your life, and although there were millions of people that adored the state, you felt the exact way someone from a state like Wyoming probably felt.

Dylan did not verbally respond to your long confession at first; instead, he simply pulled your confused and stressed self in for a hug, and you let out the simultaneous sigh and breath that you had been metaphorically holding in for years at this point.

"Maybe you should take a break," Dylan finally said; his arms were still around you, an action that made you feel completely comforted. "Right after high school, you went straight to college, and I don't think you've ever really taken a break to really think about what you actually want. Like, maybe, it's becoming a zookeeper."

Your laugh was slightly muffled by the fact that your face was pressed into the warmth of Dylan's chest. "Zookeeper?"

"I don't know," He laughed too. "You said you would support me in whatever the fuck I decide to do, and I'll do the exact same for you."

Somehow a smile found its way on your face. "A zookeeper and a comedian. What a fucking dream team."

Another laugh fell from Dylan's lips. "The best fucking dream team."

"But, honestly, I wish I could've known sooner that this is how you've been feeling. I would've been telling you to slow down so long ago, but you seemed content with everything," Dylan told you and gave you another light squeeze. "Please take a break and don't stress yourself out over the future when your next semester is over. Just relax for the first time. You can even come stay with me in LA for a little bit if that's where you wanna take your break. I'll be here for you, Y/N. Always."

Something about his words hit you hard. The wholehearted honesty and sincerity behind his statement shouldn't have surprised you, but it did. And the worry he had for you resembled the same concern you had for him when the accident happened. You two were best friends, so it should not have been a shock that you would worry about each other, but still, in that moment and for you, it was shocking because it felt like so much more than just that.

"Me too," You whispered, finally responding to his previous statement.

The long embrace came to an end with you being the one to pull away; however, you did not pull away far enough for you both to become completely detached from one another. Dylan's arms were still around your waist, and yours were still around the nape of his neck, and your faces were dangerously close. Your hand somehow took on a mind of its own as it reached around and cupped Dylan's cheek. The miniscule confusion and tickle of panic that began to prick at the back of your mind because of the action were not enough to make you pull away.

The slight way that Dylan leaned into your soft touch was the catalyst for you to take the leap and lean in the tiniest bit to close the small distance between the two of you, your lips almost too easily finding his. The inward sigh of contentment you emitted when Dylan almost immediately kissed you back made you realize that kissing him was the one thing currently happening in your life that actually felt right.

Later, when thinking back to that specific moment, you would wonder if that "rightness" had always been there between you both.

However, that right feeling, which was both comfortable and familiar, was quickly replaced with dread and angst, at least on your part. Your mind was beginning to fully catch up with your actions, and it immediately told you that the current action was both bad and stupid, and there were many, many reasons that proved that.

Maybe there were moments where a younger, and even present-day, you did want more to happen between you and Dylan, but you would always push that thought away because you knew that your and Dylan's friendship was so much more valuable.

And then it was the fact that your lives were nothing alike. Even though you were immensely confused about where your life was going, you could say for certain that it wasn't going in the same direction as Dylan's; an acting career that he genuinely loved and enjoyed too much to truly give up. Something deep down told you that, and you could feel the truthfulness behind the thought. The holidays were the only time your lives would truly intersect.

You abruptly pulled away, not just from the kiss but from Dylan's body entirely, moving to the edge of the bench you were on. Your hands covered your face in nothing but pure embarrassment and regret, and you wished that you could take back the last minute and a half of your life. And you also absolutely hated that you couldn't help but notice how much colder your body felt now that it was away from Dylan's.

"Oh my God. I'm sorry. Fuck. That kiss— it was a mistake. I'm really sorry." Your words came out rushed and fumbled, and it probably did not make much sense, but you just hoped that there was at least a little bit of coherency with them.

As much as you wanted to look at Dylan, you refused to do so because you knew that you would only see the regret you were feeling written clear across his face.

"Hey, it's okay, Y/N. Everything's fine. Don't worry," You heard him say but could hear the uncertainty in his voice as if he really didn't know if everything truly was fine. And you knew that it wasn’t. It really wasn’t.

The holidays were the only time your lives would truly intersect, and you had just completely ruined that.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know your thoughts <3

((((already potentially thinking about doing a part 2 to this….. but idk…))))

[megthemewlingquim]

someone new.

summary: there's an art to life's distractions.

pairing: eventual hades! loki x persephone! reader

warnings: implied smut, alcohol consumption

a/n: here it is, the first part of foreigner's god. as said in this fic's masterlist, these will not be chapters, but rather short stories and one shots that can be read separately or as one whole piece. it's up to you.

i plan to base each part off of one or two hozier songs. this is inspired by "someone new".

is there a right way to fall in love?

    that’s what loki asks himself every day — well, every night — when he spends his free time at bars and gatherings. populated widely with fellow gods, goddesses, and spirits of many colors and passions; these bars are perfect places to find someone new.

    being the god of death, however, puts loki at a bit of a disadvantage. yes, the stereotypes are, unfortunately, true. loki is dark, a little antisocial, and very quiet. beautiful in appearance — death is seductive, at least to the willing.

    ‘the willing’ being many a spirit, many a dryad or goddess or creature who wants bragging rights, or a little nightly thrill. ‘that’s right,’ they say, ‘i had a little dance with death last night.’

loki doesn’t mind the mornings when his temporary partners talk about the nights, but he always cringes when they mention that accursed french phrase — la petite mort. it’s a joke to them. a mockery.

   yet, they stay, and sometimes, they come back for another little death.

    the spirits and goddesses never make a big impact on him. he is with one for a night, then another for a night, and so on. he falls in love every day with someone new and it’s a bore. a bore and a drag.

    dark caresses don’t do much to numb the pain: the pain of loneliness and solitude. the ache in his heart is constant, tearing at his mind whenever it can. alcohol can't do much either — all gods have a very high tolerance. mead was made for them.

   so loki is left with no escape besides those that come from the willing. little deaths. they make him feel loved.

   no...

   no one loves death. some crave him. but they don't love him.

   that’s the common theme running through loki’s head every time he takes someone home with him, or goes upstairs with them to the top floors of the inns he’s at, where the bedrooms are. it’s a distraction.

   however, the cycle ends when, while pointlessly wandering around his usual bar, he sees someone new one night. you.

   you radiate this... this warmth that he’s never felt before. everyone around you seems to be affected by it too - they don’t treat you as the life of the party, but they do gravitate towards you like birds to a nest. 

    and you’re quite shy, but infectiously happy and cheerful. you’re so beautiful, with your bright eyes that he knows are wide and filled with wonder, and your lovely skin that he knows is so soft. and your smile that he knows is so comforting to all who see it.

   to everyone else, you feel like they’ve just wandered into a happy memory, or a sun-lit room that’s pleasantly warm and golden. you feel familiar. ordinary, but lovely all the same.

   to loki, you feel... feel like something he’s only experienced in dreams. so, really, he’s never felt it before in his immortal life: something warm and alive and... and anticipatory. like there’s new things about to come up to the surface — flowers, new animals, maybe. you give off a sense of... he can’t describe it well. a slow and joyful awakening something.

   and you also feel completely and utterly powerful. unstoppable. he’s terrified of you, and yet he’s drawn to you. you’re so fascinating, strange. not as if you could end the world, no, that’s his own job. but it’s as if you can bring the whole world to life, raise it back up again after the chaos fades.

   you feel like spring. like rebirth. like new life.

   and that’s when it hits him.

   persephone. he’s heard the name passed around before, but before now, he has never seen the face behind the name. something about this sparks some fear in him: how would persephone, goddess of spring, daughter of demeter, react to seeing anyone even remotely like himself?

   for a moment, he’s grateful that you’re not looking at him; you’re actually looking at the table, at the drink you’re sipping. there’s a look on your face that isn’t bored, nor afraid. maybe... observant.

   people are around you still. not crowding, but not interacting with you either. it’s like you have a bubble around you, keeping everyone from getting too close. maybe it’s your doing but maybe it’s theirs. honestly, you’d think that dryads and gods and goddesses and spirits of all forms and colors and subjects would be more accepting.

   he pities you. you seem lonely.

   loki takes a few steps forward, betraying his own fear. like the red sea, the crowd parts. some are bold and unafraid, and they give loki varying looks: disgusted, seductive, snarky. you don’t notice him until he sits down in front of you, at the other end of the table.

   “hi,” he says calmly. he manages a small smile. “you’re new here, aren’t you?”

   your eyes lift to lock with his own. immediately, you recoil just the slightest bit. he knows what you’re thinking: wait, that’s hades! god of death... wh-why is he talking to me?

   “it’s alright,” he soothes. “don’t worry. you’ve probably heard of all the stories: gods kidnapping and doing terrible things to goddesses and spirits and dryads. i’m not here to do any of that. i promise.”

   with a single, somewhat confused blink, you nod. “m-my mother has told me a lot about that stuff,” you say slowly, as if saying anything too revealing will somehow alert demeter and get you in trouble. “she’s... she’s terrified...”

   “what is she terrified of? that those terrible things might happen to you?”

   “yes,” you say. “she’s told me that she’s had nightmares in the past. specifically about you. how you’ll kidnap me and take me to hell to live with you.”

   he laughs at that - a rich, amused laugh that takes the shivers out of you. “that’s bullshit. overprotective mothers, yeah?”

   you shrug. “she loves me.”

   “and are you afraid of me, princess?” the last word is whispered. his voice extremely soft - it’s a curious question.

   he notices how you lick your lips. “no,” you say. he notices how your eyes flick all over him. “no, i’m not.” and you seem truthful.

   “smart girl,” he says with a grin. “i hate liars. there’s not a god on in the world that’s ever been truthful. well, besides jesus. yahweh. whatever you wanna call him.” loki leans back, crossing his hands behind his head and bringing his feet up to the table. “your father, though... he’s the worst of ‘em. having children with other women, including your mother, while hera has to sit by and watch, and then lying about it.”

   “we’re gods,” you say. “i'm not trying to justify things but... we’re far from perfect.”

   “damn right we are. we’re fucked up. good. we can agree on something. most days, people think us gods are... perfect things. role models. and, maybe some are. but not us. not the gods of olympus.”

   he pauses, takes a swig from a beer bottle that was not in his hand a few seconds ago. “i was wondering if you wanted to do what humans do.” loki winces at the awkwardness. “when they're... y'know. interested in someone.”

   “you're interested... in me?” you ask, incredulously.

   “yeah, i am.” one sip of beer has loosened his tongue. or maybe that's just his confidence soaring now. “maybe this hasn't been the best introduction to things but i would love to take you out sometime. show you things.”

   “my —” you swallow. “i'd get in trouble.” you shrink away just a bit.

   his smile fades and it's replaced with a sadder, more sincere look. “the best things in life have risk to them. it's time i show you that.”

   and really, he does feel sorry for you. it's your first time at a bar, you're lonely. no friends as far as he can tell. an overprotective goddess mother.

   “think of it this way. i think you're very pretty and i like your honesty. i would like to help you see the world, and to have a little fun, since your mother has obviously never let you do anything in your very, very long life.”

   “i'm twenty—one.”

   “and now i'm wondering if demeter actually has you tell people that, as if you're a teenage mortal.” loki shakes his head, disappointed. “that's pathetic. you're a bajillion years old. you're a goddess! you should be able to do whatever the fuck you want, right?”

   when there's no answer from you, he sighs. leans forward to sit normally, putting both of his elbows on the table and pointing his hands at you. “alright. i'll roll with it for now. you're twenty—one. i guess. you can drink. you can go out alone to bars and other places. you can meet new people. you're an adult. think about that.

   “so, again. i think you're very pretty and i wanna show you around. get to know you. would you like to do that with me?” he raises his eyebrows a little, waiting for a response.

   it's an eternity before you can win a battle in your mind. slowly, you nod, giving him a smile. “yeah,” you whisper. “yeah, i would. thank you.”

   “don't thank me just yet, sweetheart. i haven't shown you anything yet.” he gets up, pushes his chair in.

   before he leaves, he winks at you. “call me loki. it's... not as dreadful... as hades. and... what do i call you?”

   you say your name, your voice quiet.

   “much better than persephone, i think. it suits you. we'll keep in touch, ok?”

   “okay,” you say. butterflies are flying rapidly in your stomach.

   loki leaves you there. he'd much rather take you back to your home himself, but that would be too risky for the time being. for now, he walks out of that bar feeling like the king of the world.

[moustacheshe]

Yandere! Aoi Todo x Reader

(Click for better quality)

Warnings: drugging, kidnapping

"Todo look... I know you are concerned about me but you really have to go now. Don't you need to go to school or something?" You are trying to get your best friend out of your apartment. He was invading your home for the last two days. "Come on y/n just one night. I promise I'll leave tomorrow." You sight as you sit at the table with him. "You promised me the exact same thing yesterday...and the day before." He's acting weird lately. Always warning you about the outside world or the world in general. How you could get hurt by going out or staying alone. "I know but I need to-" You let out a loud groan. "Yeah, yeah you need to protect me. I really appreciate your concern but I'm fine on my own. I always was. I always am. And I always will be. What happened to you? Why are you acting like this? Is it because of this Yuji guy?" Now your annoyance slowly turns into concern. "What? No! Yuji's nothing to do with this. It's more like the things I see everyday and..." He shakes his head. You don't need to know about curses and what they are. You already have enough to worry about.

"I actually wanted to ask you if you want to move into my apartment." He quickly changes the subject and smiles at you. You look at him confused. He's lying to you and you know it. "Todo..." You lean across the table and take his hand. "...if there is something wrong you can tell me. We always talk about our problems. Please just...tell me." He sights and stands up from the table. Todo crosses his arms as he seems to think about something. He sights and walks beside you. You turn around to face him as he kneels down to your level. He takes your hands in his huge ones. "Y/n I know we're just friends but... I was hoping that maybe we could be more." You look at him lost for words. "Besides if we are together you can move into my place and we can do all sorts of things together. I'll do everything for you: cooking,-"

"Todo..."

"shopping,-"

"Todo!"

"cleaning-"

"TODO!" You scream at him to stop his speach. He looks a little bit shocked and he clenches your hands. "I... I don't know what to say about that." You look down at your hands resting in his. Everything to avoid eye contact. "I always saw you as my best friend... I never wanted this to happen. I always thought you like tall women with a big ass." Your lips move into a little smile as you remember the time he told you about his taste in women. "No... I mean yes but that was just to...you know... Say something when somebody is asking for your type. It doesn't matter now! I want you to be with me." He takes your face in his hands and forces you to look at him. You can see his eyes are glassy. He's about to cry. "Listen Todo..." You grab his hands and put them down again. "...I really appreciate that you want to protect me but... I can and I want to live on my own. I can handle myself you know. And you are my best friend I... I don't want to lose you as a friend because of some relationship." Now tears start streaming down his cheeks. The sight of this big chunk of a man crying is really to much for you. You can barely hold back your own tears. He never cried in front of you...well except the one time he couldn't meet his Takada-chan and you had to comfort him.

He now clenches your hands even tighter. "Ah, Todo you're hurting me!" You let out a surprised yell. He never hurt you before. He snaps out of his trance and looked at you with widened eyes. "So..." His grip gets weak. "...you don't want to live with me and let me protect you." Now a few tears stream down your face too. "No I'm sorry..." You always were afraid that this would happen.

"Okay y/n I'll leave..." He wipes away his tears and stands up. "...but let me get us some water first. Crying dehydrates your body." You just sit there and give him a little nod. He finally understands it. But something still seems odd.

He comes back with two glasses of water. Todo puts both of them on the table and sits down on his chair again. You take your glass and start drinking. "You know y/n, I really didn't want it to go this way." He takes a gulp from his glass avoiding eye contact. "Yeah me neither. I really hope you understand my point. I don't want to depent on someone else." You ask yourself if it was wrong to say it like this. "You really have no idea don't you?" He sounds bitter. "What do you mean?" You say getting a little frustrated. He just won't stop. You're getting dizzy. "The curses they're everywhere. They are strong and they only bring destruction and death." You have trouble to concentrate on his words. "Wh-What are you talking about?" You don't know what he meant by curses. Your vision gets blurry and you shut your eyes tight. "I'm talking about the constant danger you're living in. That's why I've decided to take you home with me." You hold your head to stop the feeling of the world spinning around you. His words are nothing more than a faint voice far away from you. "What's wrong y/n? Are you okay?" He asks you. The concern in his voice obviously faked. "Wh-What did you do?" You hiss trying to get up. Todo stands up from his seat and walks over to you. "GET...away..." You stand up from your seat to get away but your legs give in. Todo catches you in his arms pressing your body to his chest. "You didn't listen to me. It's okay y/n I'll protect you and take care of everything you need." He strokes your head to calm you down. His embrace is tight as if you could run away any second. "N-No...I don't..." Your voice slowly fades together with your consciousness. "Everything will be fine. Just let it happen. Once you are with me, I'll be the happiest man in the world." Your heavy eyelids fall shut and you completely give in to the drug he gave you. You fall in to a heavy sleep.

As you slowly wake up you are laying on something soft. You let out a loud groan and try to move your arms. You notice that you can't move your arms because there're hold together by something. Then it hit you. 'He kidnapped me!' You quickly open your eyes and look around. The room is dark. It's night outside. You still feel weak and a little dizzy nevertheless you try to struggle against your restraints. Your wrists and ankles are tied to the bed you're laying in. "HELP! PLEASE! SOMEBODY HELP ME!" You scream, hoping that someone would hear you. You're confused and scared. The person you trusted the most just drugged and kidnapped you. Tears begin to stream down your cheeks. "PLEASE! SOMEBODY HELP!"

Suddenly the door to the room opens and some light illuminates the darkness of the room. You can tell it's Todo entering. He presses a light switch and a lamp next to your bed turns on. The sudden light makes you squint and turn your head away. Todo closes the door and walks in your direction. He is holding a tray with a cup and a bowl. "Oh! You're awake, darling. I made you something to eat and your favorite tea." He says smiling at you like nothing ever happened. "Todo, what's gotten into you?! What is wrong with you?! Let me go, now!" You say trying to get your wrists and ankles free. "Nothing is wrong sweetheart. On the contrary I'm the happiest man in the world. But I'm glad that you ask." He sets the tray on the beside table and sits down on the bed. "Todo listen! You need to let me go! NOW! TODO PLEASE!" You begin to cry and struggle again. Todo doesn't look at you he just stares at the tray. He seems to be lost in his thoughts. "Todo listen, if you let me go now I'll pretend like nothing happened. Everything will be back to normal and I won't tell anyone. Please we can-" "HUSH!" You feel like his voice makes the earth shake underneath you. You look at him frightened for what he's capable of. He sees the fear in your eyes and his expression changes back to a worried face. "Oh I'm sorry, babe. I didn't mean to scare you. It's just..." He sights and lays down beside you. You try to push yourself away from him but he pulls you back into his arms. "Remember that one time we kissed for the first time." That never happened. "Or that day we had our first date." Never happened. "Todo what are you talking about? That never happened. Please you need to let me go!" He doesn't pay you much attention he's busy drawing circles on your belly with his finger. "It's okay that you don't remember. The most important thing is that we are together. Here and now." He is completely delusional. He images scenarios that never happened. But you don't need to worry about not remembering any of it. You have him and he has you. That's all that matters.~

[libraryofloveletters]

prompts 8 + 9 for Buck omgggg 🥲🥲🥲

Can’t Lose Him

Evan Buckley x Reader 

Warnings: fem!reader, mentions of hospitals and injuries, minimal swearing, mentions of pregnancy and Chim’s accident, big brother!Chim

Prompts: #8: “you promised me you wouldn't be reckless! You promised me!” #9: “Does he know about the baby?” 

Category: mix of angst and fluff

Word Count: 2.4k

Author’s Note: I loved writing this so thank you for requesting! :) 

---

Pacing the room, Hen reached out for your hand. “C’mon, your feet must hurt. Sit down” you sighed, once again you were in a hospital waiting room in the middle of the night with the team and Maddie because Buck’s idiotic self got himself hurt again. 

“I’m okay Hen, thank you” you gave her a slight smile. Bobby was talking to the doctors because you couldn't bring yourself to hear what he’s done this time. Bobby returned, Athena by his side now. “Oh honey,” she pulled you into a hug, you could feel yourself melting into her arms, she sat with you and her arm wrapped around your shoulder. Bobby sat to the other side of you. 

“The doctor said that the pressure of the block cracked a rib, which then punctured a lung. He also has a mild concussion but they say it shouldn't be too bad” 

“Is he out of surgery ?” 

“He is, but he’s in recovery now. It might be a little bit before we get to see him” Bobby gives your shoulder a squeeze, you nodded.

Taking a look around the waiting room, Chim held Maddie as she slept with her head on his shoulder. Eddie sat to the other side of them, on the phone with Carla and Christopher. Hen was now talking to Bobby about something. 

This wasn't an unusual scene but a familiar one. Regardless of what was going on or who it was, the 118 always shows for their own. 

A rather tall man came into the waiting room. “Buckley ?” he called out, everyone stood, the doctor seemed surprised to see so many people at 4 in the morning. Your hand was resting on your stomach, you could feel eyes burning into your side. Looking to the left, Chim’s eyes were fixed on your hand, you nodded in his direction with your brows furrowed. He shook his head, you didn’t think much of it. 

“We can take one person in if someone would like to go in now? He’s still asleep but he’s stable as of now” your heart sunk at the term “as of now”, shaking the feeling, you look over at Maddie. 

“Do you want to go in first ?” 

“You go ahead, I'll walk with you and then I'll see him after. I might take a lap, my back is killing me” she gave your hand a squeeze, the two of you followed the doctor to a room down the hall. 

She came in for a moment to kiss her brother’s head and then left you alone in the room with him. You sat at his bedside, your hand held onto his. His hand was cold, the monitor was still going and you could hear his heart beating through the deafening silence but it felt strange. 

Every time you found yourself back here, it felt odd. 

Buck was a warrior in every sense of the word, he pulled through, always. 

“Oh baby, what did you get yourself into” sighing and leaning back into the chair. Once again, your hand comes down to rest on your stomach, the other hand still holding Buck’s. His hand twitched slightly, he was starting to wake up. “Don’t move hun,” your hand rested on his chest softly, Buck’s brows furrowed. 

“Wh-who are you?” his head tilted slightly, your heart dropped. The panic started to set in but you knew better than to let him see it. 

He’ll come around, he’s just woozy from surgery. 

“Why are you here?” he asked once again, “I'm-” you started but was cut off by a little chuckle from Buck. “You ass!” you let out a breath, “god, you scared me”

“Sorry baby, I didn't mean to scare you” 

“Yeah? So why am I sitting in a hospital room while you’re all banged up” 

“We could bang if you wanted” he gave you one of his stupid wicked smiles

“Evan Buckley!” you scolded him, “now is not the time” your hand held onto his arm, your finger tracing over the tattoo on his bicep. “You really scared me, the whole punctured lung this isn't a cute look Buck” 

“Really ? And here I was thinking that I was pulling it off” 

Something flipped in you, you went from relief to anger in .2 of a second. “How could you?” hitting his shoulder, you stood up. “Ow! What did I do ? I'm just laying here” Buck whined, you know you didn't actually hurt him, he's just being dramatic. 

“I know it’s your job to run into burning buildings but would it kill you to be safe? You can't fucking save anyone if you’re dead Evan!” 

“Woah, calm down first of all, and why are you calling me Evan ?” 

“Is that not your frigging name ?!” 

You were starting to lose your patience. You loved Buck, any and everyone knew that but you couldn't deal with how stupid he could be sometimes. He’d run straight into danger to help others but not once would he stop to think of what could possibly happen to him. 

“Where is this coming from ?” he asked you, looking at you. He reached for your hand but you pulled away. You find yourself pacing again, trying to calm yourself before you strangle him with his IV line. “What do you mean ‘where is this coming from?’ you had a giant block of concrete on your chest Buck! If Eddie didn't find you, you'd be dead, you were on the verge of death as it is.” 

“You don-” 

“I don't know that ? I know you’re dumb enough to run into a collapsing building, especially after Bobby told you not to go back inside” you gave him a look, your back up against the wall. Buck’s face went pale, he looked as if he saw a ghost. 

“What? You thought Eddie wouldn't tell me about your little stunt ? You should know better than that.”

“Y/n, baby, I didn’t think anything would happen to me” 

“You never think Buck, that's the problem! You promised me you wouldn't be reckless! You promised me! but you never listen, you never do. One of these days, you're going to walk in and not walk back out.” storming out of the room, Buck sat on the bed, his mouth hung open and confused as to what brought on the fit of rage you just had. 

Maddie walks into the room, “where’s y/n?” she sits beside him. Buck rubs his forehead, “um- she just went for some air” 

--

It was around 5:30 in the morning, you sat outside on the hood of Buck’s jeep. You had dropped him off at work and taken the jeep for the day, hence why you had it right now. 

Peaceful.

That’s how you’d describe your surroundings. There was no one in the parking lot, you laid back on the hood as your hand came down to your stomach once again, staring aimlessly up into the sky. It wasn't dark but the sun hadn't fully come up yet. It was right before dawn, the world felt like it paused, not completely, but just enough for you to take in these few moments of peace. 

The weight shifted on the jeep, you opened your eyes to see Chim climbing up to sit beside you. “Hey, everyone’s looking for you” he says, laying back onto the hood beside you. “Yeah, I just needed some air” lying through your teeth, you give him as best of a smile that you could muster up. Chim’s eyes fixated on your hand once again, you watched him, practically hearing the turning in his head. 

“What's going on in there? The rebar taking its effect now?” you joke, he rolls his eyes. 

“Does he know about the baby?” he asks, you sit up and turn towards him. You hadn't told a soul. 

“How did-” 

“Maddie does it to- the hand on the belly thing. She's been doing it since before there was a bump. Just a motherly reflex I suppose” 

You stared off into space, Chim sat beside you quietly. “Does he know?” he asks once again, you shake your head. “I know it’s not my place,” he rests his hand on your shoulder, “but I think you should tell him. It might keep him from running into buildings without thinking.” 

“Did that work for you ?” 

“What do you mean ?” 

“When Maddie told you that she was pregnant, did you think twice before running into a burning building ?” 

“Honestly, at first it didn't. It didn't seem real until I saw the bump and heard the heartbeat. Then it all made sense ya know ? I couldn't risk getting hurt because I had something to live for, they were waiting for me to come home” 

“That's the thing, I don't want to lose him, Chim. I can’t lose him. I love him and I need him here, the baby needs him. There’s no way I can do this by myself” 

“You can, I know you would be able to do it by yourself but you shouldn’t have too. Buck’s an idiot but he loves you.”

Chim sat with you for a few more minutes, you considered everything he told you. How Buck might not change right away nor did you expect him too but if there was even a chance of him changing, you’d want him too. “Ready to go back in?” Chim slides off the hood, holding his hand out to you. You hold his hand and he helps you off the hood.

“We have a stop to make first” you walk in the opposite direction of Buck’s room. Chim follows you down to the gift shop, which was closed as it doesn’t open until 7.“Are you kidding me?” you groan, leaning back against the door. “We’ll figure something out,” Chim looks around. Eddie comes around the corner, “what are you guys doing here?” he walks over. 

“I needed something for Buck” 

“What did you need? Can’t it wait until they open?” 

“Eddie, I'm pregnant” you just blurt out, Eddie’s jaw drops, literally. 

“Congratulations!” he pulls you into a hug, “wait, you’re happy about it right?” he checks, you nod. 

“I need one of those stupid “world’s best dad” shirts for Buck but it's closed” 

Eddie looks at Chim and then looks around. “Are we gonna?” Chim points towards the door, looking at Eddie. “Yup” Eddie looks around once more, “lean your head towards me y/n” your face screws into a weird expression but abides anyways. Eddie pulls a bobby pin out of your hair, turning to the door and jams into the lock. He wiggles the pin around until the lock clicks open. 

“Voila” he smiles as pushes the door open. The 3 of you walk in, Eddie stays by the door to make sure no one was coming. “Chim, find a pen and paper for me please ?” you walk away to find the shirt you were looking for. Picking up 4, you shove them into a bag form behind the counter. You toss $30 onto the counter and scribble a little note for the person that opens that read: 

Had an emergency, needed a few shirts. Hope this cash covers it. Thanks! :) 

Eddie relocked the door before heading to Buck’s room. Everyone was now in the room, scattered in different places. Bobby was leaned up against a wall, Athena stood beside him, leaning into his side. Hen sat on the little counter by the window and Maddie was still in the chair beside his bed. Eddie went over and joined Hen by the window, Chim stood behind Maddie, his hand coming up to her shoulder. 

“Y/n..” Buck whispers as you walk in, you take a seat on the end of the bed by his hips. “I’m sorry” he says, his hand reaching out for yours. 

“You’re an idiot but, I guess, I forgive you” you say and Buck smiles at you. “What’s in the bag ?” he asks, you rest the bag on your lap. “Something for you boys” The guys exchange looks, Eddie and Chim knew you needed something for Buck but what did you get for them? 

Pulling out the shirts, you handed one to Buck first. It was a plain blue t-shirt with big white bold letters that read “world’s best dad”. Buck looked down at the shirt and then back at you, he repeated that process a few times and after a couple minutes he finally asked you. 

“Are you ?” he whispers, the room is silent. 

“Am I?” you ask.

“Pregnant ?” he finishes the question and you smile. 

“Yeah, I am” your hand rests on his, he pulls you into his side for a hug. You hug him, trying not to squish him and hurt him even more. 

“Okay,” you sit up and toss another shirt that said the same thing to Eddie. He caught it and smiled, “because Christopher couldn't have a better dad than you” Eddie gives you a smile and whispers a thank you. 

The next shirt gets tossed to Chim, he laughs. “You got one for me too?” he asks, pulling the shirt on over his sweater. “Yeah because baby girl Buckley is gonna be one lucky baby, despite your not-so-funny dad jokes” Maddie laughs at the comment, Chim does too. 

The last shirt goes over to Bobby. He gives you a look, “what’s this for ?” he asks, “Because not only have you been amazing with May and Harry but you’ve got a fire station full of ‘children’ that rely on you. Just a thanks for bringing them home in one piece, well for the most part” you pat Buck’s side.

The room is filled with happiness and love, the 118 was together once again, not just as firefighters but as a family. 

-- 

taglist: @ssa-volturi @advicefromnixxxx @dralexreid @keenmarvellover

[moldisgoodforyou]

on my mom's grave

wordcount: 3.7k

warnings: n/a

______

“How drunk do you think we’re going to get tonight?” Sophie asked, tipping back the last of a lemon White Claw as the two of them got ready for the night in her room.

“Dunno. I’m not really feeling it tonight.”

She paused, glancing back at him. “Do you not want to go?”

He shook his head and took the can from her, disappointed to realize there was nothing left. “No, no, it’s fine. I’m cool. Probably just won’t drink.”

“Is this about the phone call with your dad earlier?”

Rafe sighed, gritting his teeth. “It’s not - I’m fine, Soph.”

She crossed her arms and eyed him over, trying to get a read on his body language. “You’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” After Rafe tugged his shirt over his head, ready much faster than Sophie, he paced around the room for a few seconds before speaking up. "Hey, so...Sarah's getting presented at the annual deb ball in spring."

Sophie seemed unbothered, turning her back to him as she wrestled her way into a crop top to get ready for the night. "Those are still a thing? Cool, so you're going home for it?" She paused, glancing over at him in his polo. "Undo another button."

He did so, then rocked back on his heels with his hands in his pockets, trying to figure out what to say next.

She slowly turned back to him, realizing he was still tense across his shoulders. "What?"

Rafe rubbed the back of his neck, a tell-tale sign he was nervous and Sophie wasn't going to like what he was about to say. "Yeah...my dad wanted you to come home for it too."

"What? Ward? Why?"

"He, kinda, uh, wants you to be presented too?"

She just laughed, turning back to the mirror with her brow furrowed in slight concentration as she applied another coat of mascara. "Okay. Sure." But when he didn't elaborate, she turned back to him again, lips pursed. "Cameron. Tell me you told him no."

"...I didn't not not tell him no."

"Rafe."

He cracked under her stare. "I'm sorry, okay! Look, it's easy, all you have to do is throw on a pretty white dress and gloves -"

"A dress that costs thousands of dollars -"

"Hundreds, but - I'll cover you, obviously -"

"No." She turned back to the mirror, shaking her head. "Fuck no. I'm not going."

"Sophie." He nearly begged, stepping closer and running his hand through his hair. "Baby. C'mon."

"Don't call me that. No. I don’t fit into that part of your world.”

"Not even for me?" He pleaded, giving her a half-hearted grin. He ignored her last sentence, knowing any argument he had for her point would be dismissed in two seconds. "I wouldn't ask you if it wasn't important, you know that."

She turned back to him with crossed arms, fixing him with a glare. "Do I know that?"

"Soph."

"Don't, Rafe." She warned, holding one hand out, but he stepped closer anyways.

"Angel. Please. For me." He forced a smile, tried cracking a joke. "I really don't want to have to call him up and get read the riot act."

She furrowed her brow and Rafe reached out and smoothed out the lines in between her eyebrows before he could stop himself, making her soften just a little. "If I were to say yes. What would I have to do?"

"Just wear the dress, attend a dinner, party the night before and party that night." He paused, thinking. "And stay at my house for the weekend. Be civil to my dad.” At her eyeroll, he fixed her with a more serious gaze. “Meet my grandparents. Hang with my sisters. C'mon, Wheezie adores you."

"You're lying."

"I'm not. She thinks you're cool. Sarah too, but she’s less likely to admit it." He kissed her forehead, hands going to her waist. "Please?"

"It's that important?"

"I swear. On my mom's grave."

Sophie frowned immediately, reaching up to fix his hair. "That's not necessary."

"You'll do it?"

"...Yes." When he made a small fist pump, she fixed him with a glare. "Only because I love you."

“I'll go down on you every night for the next two weeks -”

She rolled her eyes at his promise, shoving lightly at his chest. "You basically already do that anyways, Rafe -”

"Okay, fine, I'll tie you up, something, anything, god, thank you, Soph. You don't know how big of a favor this is. I mean it." He sighed in relief, the tension draining from his body.

She ignored him, turning back to the mirror to apply lip gloss, carefully smearing the wand across her lips. “Why does he want me to do this? I don’t understand.”

“Is that the sticky stuff? I hate that stuff, it gets all over me when we’re kissing -” He started, then quickly shut his mouth as she flipped him off without looking. “Uh, ‘to integrate you into our society.’ Direct quote.”

“Oh god.” She groaned, setting the lip gloss aside after applying it, then started searching through her jewelry case. “So I’m gonna have to be on my best kook behavior?”

He snorted. “Sophie Flint, a kook. Not likely.”

“Watch it.” She pointed a warning finger in his face. “You don’t see anything weird with this? Your dad hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you.”

“Rose does.”

“That’s not true either.”

Sophie raised her eyebrows, challenging him.

He shrugged, relenting with a sigh. “You’re not her favorite person, no, but neither am I.”

“You think this was more her idea? For Sarah to do it too?”

“Nah, actually, pretty sure it was my grandparents’ idea. Probably Granddad. My mom went through all this, so…”

She turned her back to him and gathered her hair, offering the clasp of her gold chain to him. “Your mom was a debutante?” She questioned with interest.

_______

Rafe rarely ever talked about his mom - Sophie had only found out how she died from a newspaper article in the online archives, and hadn’t wanted to bring it up since. All she knew was that Mrs. Cameron had passed away in a car accident when Rafe was fourteen.

Both Sophie and Rafe’s schools shared a building, despite them going to private academies, and overlapped for certain advanced placement classes. In freshman year, they were together for AP chemistry, with Sophie sitting proudly at the front of the class while Rafe sat in the back with a group of his friends, often cracking jokes at inappropriate times or throwing wads of paper at each other. Freshman year Sophie was the epitome of stuck-up - she resorted to insults instead of making friends and kept to herself, terrified someone might find out that she was on scholarship and wasn’t truly meant to be there.

The day after the car accident, Rafe was unusually quiet. Sophie hadn’t heard the news yet, it was barely second period and she wasn’t looped into the trail of gossip like the rest of the girls at Greenville. They were partnered for an experiment that day - Rafe had groaned when he heard Sophie’s name after his from the teacher, and Sophie barely suppressed a roll of her eyes. She took charge right away, getting all the supplies and set up their work station without even addressing him. After a few minutes, she slid the small glass of solution to Rafe, raising her eyebrows. “You can do the work too, you know.”

He was completely spaced out, only glancing up when she said something. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

Sophie rolled her eyes, lifting a beaker and extending it to him. “Yeah. I know. Just drop in 10 milliliters of the solution, it’s not hard.”

Rafe sighed as he rested his elbows on the edge of the table, rubbing his temples. “Look, can you just do it?”

She finally took note of the dark circles under his eyes, the way his shoulders were slumped, but misinterpreted it all. She smirked, taking on a taunting tone. “What, you’re still drunk from last night or something?”

He gritted his jaw, his entire body growing tense, and tugged at the collar of his polo. “Fuck off, Flint. Not in the mood today.”

She recoiled immediately, setting the beaker down with a little too much force. “Don’t be an asshole.”

“Don’t be a fucking bitch.” He spit back, standing abruptly. She winced as the stool squeaked across the floor, drawing everyone’s attention - as if they hadn’t had it already. Kelce stepped over and went to grab Rafe’s arm, possibly pull him away, but Rafe just wrenched his arm out of his grip. “I’m fine.” He growled, storming out of the classroom without looking back.

After a few moments of stunned silence, with Sophie on the verge of shocked tears, their teacher cleared her throat and redirected everyone’s attention, pointing one of the girls over to join Sophie instead. Molly made her way over, occupying Rafe’s seat in the space across from her. “Poor Rafe,” she murmured.

Sophie frowned, pulling her jacket tighter across her chest like a shield of armor. “Poor Rafe? What?”

Molly nodded, lowering her voice a little. “Yeah, you didn’t hear? I’m surprised he’s at school, honestly.”

“I didn’t...what happened?”

“Oh.” Molly frowned. “Um. You know that winding road, the one that goes downhill toward the ballet studio?”

Sophie didn’t, she didn’t even have a clue - the ballet studio was on the entire opposite side of the island from where she lived, the height of Figure 8, and she hadn’t ever had a reason to even venture that way. “Yeah? What does that have to do with Rafe?”

“Um, well, it was pouring last night, and his mom was driving down that road. I heard she lost control of the car and wrecked it. There was, like, a drunk driver that swerved into her lane, but she tried to avoid him and hit a tree.” Molly told her, careful on the details.

“I’m pretty sure the Camerons can replace a car.” Sophie replied, not wanting Molly to confirm where she thought she was going with the story. She dug her nails into the skin of her thigh anyways, feeling anxiety bubble up in her chest.

Molly shook her head, slowly. “Mrs. Cameron died, Sophie.”

Her heart dropped and she bit the inside of her cheek, hard. “Oh.”

“Yeah. I’m surprised you didn’t hear the sirens last night, I saw like eight police cars last night headed toward his house. I heard Sarah was in the car too, I think -”

“Is Sarah okay?” She couldn’t concentrate on anything but her ears ringing, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Oh, yeah, I think so. But god, how awful, right? The funeral is next weekend, Ward Cameron told my dad this morning. Is your family going?”

“Um...I don’t know.” Sophie glanced toward the door, hoping to god he would come back through the door and Molly would confess that it was all a joke, that she hadn’t just started something with Rafe on that day of all days.

________

Rafe nodded. “Yeah. ‘Course she was. I think she really enjoyed it, actually, she’d always tell Sarah when she was little about how pretty she would look in the dress, how important it was to learn the right etiquette and -” He cut himself off, realizing he was sharing too much, and deftly fastened the clasp before pressing a kiss to the top of her head, letting her step away. “All that.”

“Huh.”

He smiled to himself, thinking about how his mom would let little Sarah play dress up in her old ballgown with gloves that went up to her armpits, wobbling around in high heels twice the size of her feet. His mom would tell Rafe he’d have to watch out for Sarah with her escort, keep him in line, and that when he was in college he’d be presenting a girl as well. But he was nine and didn’t think of girls in that way quite yet, so he always scowled and left the room.

“It’s kind of cool, I think. The tradition of it all.”

“The ball? Have you been?” She caught his eye in the mirror as she adjusted her top, not wanting to push for too much information before he’d shut down altogether.

“No...I was gonna present Brooklyn at the one here in Columbus, sophomore year’s normally when the girl gets presented, but. Yeah. No, I meant, it’s kind of cool that you’ll be doing something my mom did.” He rubbed the back of his neck, meeting her gaze for a moment then looked away.

“Yeah?”

“She would have liked you. I know it.”

Sophie perked up a little, cocking her head. “You really mean it?”

“Yeah. She would have liked that you have an attitude with me.” He grinned when she turned back around and took his hand, tugging him over to sit on the bed next to her. “She was always saying I needed to find someone to match my energy, keep me in check. I wish she could have met you.”

“I did meet her. Once.”

He perked up, cocking his head. “You did?”

“Yeah, I served her when I was working at the restaurant at the country club once, I was only fourteen. I remember she made some comment about me being too young to work and I told her I liked it. Then she asked my name, and I remember she seemed like she knew already when I told her.” Sophie nodded. “She was really nice, left way too big of a tip and wrote my name on the bill. I always thought that was funny.”

Of course she knew, Rafe thought as he smiled to himself. She knew, because Rafe had come home and complained about a girl getting on his nerves every single week since seventh grade. She knew, when the complaints turned to “why won’t just be nice to me” and his mom had quipped that Sophie probably liked him - he had scoffed and walked away. She knew, because his mom had come home from the country club and told him Sophie Flint was a much nicer girl than Rafe painted her to be, and Rafe had immediately turned bright red and been embarrassed that his mom sought her out.

“I like that.” She leaned into him, taking his hand to play with his rings. “Will your grandparents be there? At the ball?”

“Oh, yeah. They sit on the board, I’m pretty sure, it’s this gigantic charity event. I’ll introduce you, but don’t worry, they’re chill. Nothing like my dad.” He adjusted himself so she was comfortable, then pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

She chewed on the inside of her lip, treading carefully. “I thought your dad grew up on the Cut.”

“He did. But my mom, no way. Kook through and through. That’s, uh, where a lot of my trust is from. After she died, um. She wanted to be sure me and Sarah were set.” He shrugged, ears turning red as he felt his throat getting tight.

Sophie frowned, feeling him closing off, and leaned closer to hug him, arms wrapped tight around his waist. “You know you can talk to me about this stuff whenever, Rafe? I’d like to hear more about your mom. She sounds like an amazing woman.”

“She was.” He nodded, settling his arms around her shoulders and rested his chin on the top of her head, closing his eyes for a moment. “Thanks, Soph. This is a really big deal to me, that you’ll go. I know it’s not your scene.”

“Love you.” She murmured. “You’d better buy me a pretty dress.”

He laughed, leaning back just enough to tip up her chin with one finger and kiss her. “You’ll be the best looking one there. I swear.”

“Oh, I already knew that.”

“Okay, okay, big head -”

She swatted his arm, laughing as she ducked out from under him. “Watch it, or I won’t go -”

“I was kidding!” He exclaimed, wrestling with her for a moment before grabbing both her hands and pinning them above her head.

Sophie sucked in a breath, caught off guard. “We are going to be late.”

“We’re already late.” He pointed out, taking a moment to realize the lack of innocence in the position, then slowly smirked. “We could be later. They’re not gonna miss us.”

“Rafe.”

“Sophie.”

“No.”

“You’re positive?”

She just gave him a look, staring him dead in the eyes and willing herself not to react when he leaned down with a grin and kissed the bridge of her nose.

“Please?”

“Fine. The ball or sex right now. You choose.” She raised her eyebrows, arching her back a little on purpose, pressing her hips up against his.

“That’s not fair.” He frowned, immediately shifting his hips away and moving so both his knees were on either side of her instead. “This is blackmail.”

“Your choice.” She reminded him, biting her lip for good measure.

He faltered, sitting back on her thighs and letting go of her wrists. “Soph, it’s - it’s for my mom. I swear. Not for my dad, Rose, anyone else.”

Sophie dropped the teasing act right away, propping herself up on her elbows. “Right, right, sorry. I won’t push it.”

“It’s alright.” He climbed off her, standing, and offered his hands. “Five bucks James makes some joke about us being late because we were having sex.”

“I’m not taking you up on that.” She rolled her eyes, accepting his hand and pulled him into a hug. “Love you long time, Cameron.”

He smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Love you too, favorite girl.”

“What do the dresses look like?”

“Uh...white?” Rafe shrugged, tugging on her hand to get her to follow him downstairs. “I dunno. When we go home for Thanksgiving I’ll book you an appointment to get fitted, I think it’s at some bridal shop on the mainland.”

“Sounds expensive.” She muttered, shaking her head.

“It’s…yeah. It’s not cheap.” He admitted, then shrugged as she followed him out the door, starting their walk toward the bars. “I’ll take care of it though. All of it. By the way, have you booked your flight home for Thanksgiving yet?”

“Um...no. I was going to look this week, it’s probably too late now though.”

“Hm.”

“Hm? Why, are you going home?”

Rafe nodded, not looking her in the eye. “Taking the plane.”

“Oh. Of course.”

“The plane...that no one else will be on...and it’s kinda ridiculous for you to waste money and carbon emissions on a separate flight…” He tried convincing her, a small smile playing on his lips as she rolled her eyes.

“You need to learn how carbon emissions work if you’re going to use that as an argument with me.”

“So that’s a no to sex on the plane?”

Sophie stopped in her tracks, confused. “That wasn’t - Rafe, what?”

“You, me, alone on the plane. Sorry, was I not clear enough?”

“I didn’t even say yes -”

“Oh, so you’re going to leave me all by myself on our one-year anniversary -”

She raised her eyebrows, challenging him. “When’s our anniversary, Rafe?”

He raised his back, stopping on the sidewalk to face her. “On my terms or yours? Because if we’re going with mine, it’s Halloween -”

“No, I had to ask you to be my boyfriend, it’s November 18th -”

“That is such an arbitrary thing, Sophie -”

“Hey! Stop stealing my vocabulary.” She interjected, pushing at his chest. “It’s the 18th, because I had to ask you out.”

“Okay. Whatever story makes you happy.” He shrugged, laughing when she shoved at him again. “Come on the plane with me.”

“...Fine. Only because I don’t want to miss our class reunion party on Wednesday night, I’m pretty sure some people still don’t believe we’re together.”

Rafe laughed loud at that, looping his arm around her shoulders and started walking again. “Pretty sure Topper still thinks it’s all an elaborate lie.”

“Does he know that we nearly hooked up in his room last winter break?”

“No.” He grinned. “Are you forgetting that you had to sprint into his bathroom right when I was about to kiss you because of some tequila thing you had?”

She tilted her head slightly. “You’re remembering wrong. That was sophomore year, before we were dating, I barely drank last year...you almost kissed me?”

“What? No, I think...remember, we were arguing over something, then you whispered in my ear to go up to his room and left. I went up a couple minutes later.” He shook his head. “I wasn’t going to make a move, Brooklyn and I were together then.”

Sophie scowled at the mention of Brooklyn. “I must have been hammered, I don’t remember any of this.”

“You wanted me.” He smirked, trailing his fingers along her collarbone. “One might say desperate.”

“No, no. All I remember is waking up in Topper’s bed feeling like shit, I had some crewneck on from your academy.” She ignored the blush creeping up her neck.

“How do you think you got there and got the sweatshirt?” He frowned. “I took care of you, Sophie. You really don’t remember?”

“I think I blacked out.” She confessed, shaking her head. “You took care of me?”

“Of course I did. Plus, I thought I was about to get some, I would have done anything for you.” He grinned, laughing when she shoved his shoulder. “Really thought that was the night I’d finally win you over.”

“Yeah, well, you can blame Sarah for her heavy pour that night.” She shook her head, smiling fondly. “I really wish I remembered that.”

“I wish you remembered too. Maybe you would have given me a chance before then instead of setting me up with Julia.”

“I - no! She asked to be set up with you, no, I did not instigate that at all.” She defended herself straightaway, cheeks flushing pink. “She said if I wasn’t going to make a move, then she was going to.”

“Sure. Whatever you believe.” He teased, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as they arrived at the bar. “Hey, Soph.”

She rolled her eyes, going to get in the winding line outside until he tugged her wrist back, pulling her to his chest. “What?”

“Thank you. I mean it.”

Sophie softened, smiling as she rose up on her toes to kiss him. “Of course, baby. I’ve got your back.”

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