#you literally yelled at the top of your lungs that you have a headache and therefore shouldn't have had to let the fucking dog inside

[jocelynscrazyideas]

Baby I’m home! | Nico Hischier x Reader

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Warnings: smut, language, not much of dirty talk (there literally is none).

Summary: Nico come back from a roadie in Minnesota, they had lost their chance to get into the playoffs. Nico gets h0rny and…

A:N- HELP I’m so tired it’s so hard to keep writing, again I don’t have faith that I’ll like this piece but I spent 2 days trying to write it so here 🫶😉🍇

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

After a roadie Nico returns home. The devs went to Minnesota and they had lost. Originally you were asked to come, actually the coaching staff were going to pay for some of the WAGs to go. Last time, the boys had gotten in a huge argument about the gameplay, and who should be on the first lineup. That’s not in their hands, it’s in the coaches and the stats of the players. Anyway, to keep them from miss behaving, the women were allowed to come.

“Baby!” Nico yells out for me in his American accent. He’s wearing his white tank top that stretch over his back and biceps, wow. He’s a smoke show.

“I wish you went! The Girls went out to the bars and the boys stayed behind and watched bar fights break out.” Nico explains. I’m actually quite nervous that he’s not showing any emotions.

Why is this loss so important? Because it was the devils last chance to win or even tie the game to get into the playoffs. Statistically in team stats overall no, they shouldn’t make it, but in number in points from each individual players had, yes they would have made it and probably win. John is an incredible defender, and so is Luke. Jack is a beautifully gifted skater and Jesper has the moves to skate within seconds across the whole rink. Ofcirese, Nico. My beautiful man. He is the most manly boy in the team, big muscles, coordination, and most importantly his social media presence. Everyone loves him.

I mean I love him.

“I know! I’m sorry.” I shout from our bedroom upstairs. Hear bags drop from downstairs and I think I hear some mumbling. I didn’t go on the roadie because I had work and I’m getting the worst headache for the last week.

“I brought up some meds. Does it still hurt?” Nico questioned and he pulls his tank top off and threw it onto our hamper that rots in our closet. Holy heaven of Abs. He’s just so fucking lovable, I don’t care about the fact he’s hot, but the way he carries himslef, he knows that no matter what he does, it’ll be intentional for him.

“Yes, thank you bubba.” I responded as I take the bottle of pills and take two pills. Yes, my head hurts so much I took two.

“Can we grab something to eat? I hungry.” Nico asked as he takes me by my hips.

He grasped onto my hips and ricks me back and forth, I can hear his stomach growl as he rests his head onto my shoulder. He shoved his head into the crook of my neck, I can feel him take my perfume from my body and pull it into his lungs. He’s smiling, I can feel his lips against my ear, and he starts to wrap his legs around my feet.

He starts to hurt me around and now I’m facing him, he’s looking straight into my eyes. He takes my hand and he places it to his chest. I can feel his heartbeat, and it’s pounding. My stomach drops as he sweeps my from my feet and onto the bed.

“Do you want food? Or we can stay in and shower, then you know do whatever.” Nico suggested, I can feel him slipping away from me. He gets up and grabs his bag.

“You better not get your gear! Its stinks!” I yell after him as nico turns to the stairs to grab his away game items.

“Baby!” Nico shouts for me. “Can you grab some milk? I wnat pasta.” Nico I a sucker for some creamy and thick pasta.

I run down the stairs and I slide into the kitchen in my socks. I have on my- well Nico’s favorite shirt on me, it’s a blue halter top that wraps around my neck with beads, it has shells laces together at the bottom almost as if it were a belly chain, and the shirt is cropped above my belly button and it’s ribbed. It’s cute, but it works better for a swimsuit cover up.

“You look sexy.” Nico slips as he eyes my shorts.

Nico,a boxers are a bit to big for me butt I slide them on anyway, and the best part is that it’s plain black, so it really does match my outfit, it’s called my “I don’t fucking care” outfit. I love the outfit, nice and short and skin tight so I can get every little breeze in, especially since it’s March and season is almost over.

“Are you gonna grab the milk? Also while you’re at it could you grab the packaged rav?” Nico requested as he slips his old man slippers on. He collects his supply’s such as a pan, the milk I gave him and the ravioli, and of course some pesto. It’s not really pasta, but he diced up some cheese, slipped some butter in the ravioli, and he stirred everything together. He lets it set as he grabs two plates. I didn’t wnat any but he knew I haven’t eaten since he left. He puts some buttered pesto cheesy ravioli on my plate and as the man he is, he cooked it so he gets more. He just flips the pan upside down and gathers all of the pasta.

He finished up with dishes since we finished the ravioli, it was delicious.

“So, you wanna shower?” Nico asked me and I can feel him getting really close to me. He picks my hands up and we start to slow dance to the sound of construction in the neighborhood.

“Yeah, well YOU need to shower more, you’re stinky.” I say in a sarcastic way. He looks me dead in the eye and he picks me up. He carry’s me up the stairs and he throws me down onto the bed.

The blunt force of getting absolutely demolished by this man felt oddly great. He pulls my hair to the side and he starts to kiss my neck. I feel his stubble graze my skin. He’s warm breath is trapped in between my jawline and his lips. He pulls away and rubs his chest, he walks out of the room.

I hear the shower turn on, he moans along the sound of water hitting the grout in the bathroom. Nico enters the room eyeing his next meal.

Me.

I took my clothes off and I lay back as if I didn’t move. Nico runs towards me and kisses my forehead all the way down to my belly button. He licks my creases. He holds my breasts as he nibbles down onto my thigh. He looks up at me grinning, and I understand what is about to happen.

~

Water is everywhere. Nico had picked me up and slid his pants off. We had been teasing eachother for about three minutes, then he got to needy. His very hard veiny cock hits his abdomen every time I kiss him, it’s like it has its on pulse.

“Never stop.” Nico says as I go down to my knees. I kiss his v-line and he holds onto my hair. He grips onto me and he pressed his back against the wall. I lick his tip, and then I start to pump. I again start to take him into my mouth, I feel like gagging, it’s so gross, I c at take the taste of cum, but for him I will. I start to moan, enjoying my time trying to please him. Nico throws his head back and starts to get loud, he bangs his hand against the opposite wall, and he’s hunched over. I have very little space to suck. The water starts to get cold so I get up from going down on him. I turn the water to a hotter temperature and I massage his biceps, he starts to get really really warm. He dick is really pushed up against himself.

Nico looks like he’s going to cum, I mean he already did in my mouth, but now he’s opening his mouth anbd says “Turn.” One work that this man says to me and I fold. Nico takes me by my waist and bends down. He’s on one knee as he grips onto me. Nico pumps himself, he’s jerking hard enough to cause me cum. He starts to kiss me down under. I look down and he’s on both knees now, making love to my pussy.

I start to move, I can’t take it anymore, I pull his hand away from my upper body and force three fingers up my hole.

“Woah, woah, you can’t get it to fast.” Nico pulls out and sucks on his finger. He gets up and he pulls me onto his chest. I feel his cock on my back. I turn on my heels and I find Nico smirking down at me. I lay down in the shower as steam fills the large room.

“Legs.” Nico says, but in his switz accent. I do as I’m told and I start to run my clit.

“You’re soaking.” Nico eyes my pussy as he pumps into me. I feel his tip, now his whole cock is inside. He’s warm, and I can feel him twitch as he try’s to say, “can I?” He’s asking for approval to start moving, and I oblige.

“Yes, and of fucking course I’m soaking.” I say as I look up towards the hot water. Nico develops red dots on his back as he starts to thrust himself into me.

“Come for me baby.”

I start to moan and I feel him practically in my lungs. He stands up as he starts to cum. Strings of our future kids are coming out of my 3rd favorite piece of him.

“Oh baby.” I look at him and his dimples are showing. I start to cum again when I see him stand up.

I push him back down as I throw myslef on top of him. I sit on him and his friend. I take a minute to catch my breath as I relax to take him. It’s been four days since we’ve had sex. I push my hand onto his chest and my other in his abs, I can feel him cum, streams of warm substance fills me, and I take myself off of him. I sit in his face and he licks me clean, but that’s before I start to cum into his mouth.

“Let’s clean up, so we can do it again later.” Nico request as I get up and I start to clean up my hair from the knots it’s been tangled into. I grab shampoo and lather it onto Nico’s head and into mine. I feel Nico wash his head as the water falls into my crevices.

We warm up and dry off and Nico swoops me up again and he snuggles me into his arms as he turns our heated blanket on. I’m stuck in his large arms and I’m glad it’s him I can feel poking up at me again.

“Baby, I’m glad you’re home.” I say as I turn my head around to kiss his cheek.

[ihavemanyhusbands]

Ooh ooh okay for the flower prompts I need Alstroemeria with Hannibal going to literally anything his partner is into maybe a concert of a band they like or something idk, because I just want to be looked at by him the way he looks at Will bcs Hannibal’s/madds heart eyes make me go brrrr🥰🤭💓

Ok so fair trade, since i accidentally wrote hannibal on your other req, i’m writing Will here 😂😂 ❤️

Alstroemeria: going to an event the other person is interested in just to see them happy.

———-

Will had expected it to be loud, of course, but he wasn’t quite prepared for how the music seemed to make his skull vibrate. How close were you to the speakers?

Around him, the crowd yelled and sang along to an animated song — the lyrics were a profession of love that was both angsty and at times corny. People held up their phones with their flashlights on, making the darkened venue look like a night sky glittering with stars.

Beside him, you were singing at the top of your lungs. Your eyes were closed as you lost yourself to the song, swaying side to side, phone raised in the air too.

He stared, transfixed by your unabashed enjoyment. Though he’d felt a headache start to form due to all the different stimuli, he told himself he couldn’t ruin this for you.

He’d been the one who’d insisted on bringing you, after all, going so far as to buying the tickets as a surprise. He had to admit, your excitement was contagious, even if he didn’t know the band.

You already knew this wasn’t his kind of scene, but it meant the world that he was so willing to make an effort.

As if sensing his gaze, you looked over at him and smiled, reaching over to take his hand. He smiled back, raising his eyebrows humorously as if to reassure you he wasn’t having a bad time.

You squeezed his hand in appreciation, mouthing I love you in his direction. He pulled you close, your back against his front, and wrapped his arms around you.

He swayed along with you, resting his chin against the top of your head, enjoying things much more with you in his embrace.

———

[loudlooks]

Day 8 - You looked cold

A/N: tiva, established or soon to be established (that's what I was thinking while writing, not that it matters). did zero research, have no idea where this takes place other than somewhere more woodsy, maybe early morning. have no idea why my brain went from "what a fluffy prompt" to "now make it angsty instead" after literally writing one sentence

Tag for blocking/following: 30 days of fall

Prompt: You looked cold

Word count: 618

Out of nowhere his scent seemed to surround her as heavy fabric was gently draped over her shoulders. She hadn't heard him approach her, the sound of the tow truck and the raging river below her drowning out everything else.

He locked eyes with her as he came to a stop next to her, worry clouding his eyes. "You looked cold."

She gave him a half smile, and averted her gaze, not ready for a conversation. More yelling from the river's edge, as the tow truck seemed to strain and complain at what the two men in hi-vis jackets were putting it through.

The mangled, crumpled front of her Mini emerged slowly from the water.

A puff of air visibly left Tony's lungs, and when she dared to glance his way, she was certain his teeth would shatter if he clenched his jaw any harder.

The car was more than halfway out of the water now, and she bit her bottom lip, inspecting the dented roof, and what little space there was between the roof and the hood. Her brows furrowed, trying to remember exactly how she had managed to escape through the small opening, before the car slid further into the river.

His voice was painfully soft when he said her name.

She closed her eyes for a moment before facing him.

He glanced at the bandage on her left temple. "Didn't want to go with the ambulance, huh?"

The casualness didn't match the pain in his eyes.

"I am-"

He held up his hand. "You are not fine, you are lucky."

Her lips parted, she couldn't argue with that. She glanced at the wreckage, now on full display on the river bank. Something that barely passed as a chuckle left her lips. "Aren't you going to make a joke about my driving?"

His eyes narrowed briefly, then he nodded down the road at the dead deer. "These guys can come out of nowhere, even your IED evading skills won't help you with that."

She let out a real chuckle, and his hands reached for the lapels of his coat, pulling them closer together, wrapping her tighter in a poor substitute of an embrace. His fingers lingered and his gaze never wavered.

The sound of the tow truck engine stalled, distracting her, his warm right hand on her cheek drew her back to him.

He opened his mouth, nodded his head almost imperceptibly, pulled her tightly to him, one arm around her back, one hand holding the back of her head, fingers gently threading in her hair.

She felt stress vibrate through his body.

"I know you won't go to the hospital, but-"

"I will see Ducky."

A sigh of relief, and most of the tension, left his body. She briefly closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, and relaxed into him, after a shiver ran through her body.

As he kissed the top of her head twice, she felt the adrenaline in her body had seemingly run its course. Her legs felt like jelly, and the vague sensation in her head was fast becoming a full blown headache.

Reluctantly she pulled back from his embrace, his hands once again making sure she was cocooned in his coat.

She glanced at what was left of the Mini, the carnage it had created on the trees and shrubs as it had crashed down the river bank, the poor deer, and the black skid marks on the asphalt. She really had been lucky to walk away mostly unscathed.

"I should buy a lottery ticket," she said with a smile as she met Tony's gaze.

He gently caressed her right cheek, a soft smile on his lips. "I already won the lottery."

---

tagging @hopeless-nostalgiac, @mrsmungus

[creatordisc]

hey girliepop did yelling a lot make ur headache feel better <3 bet it fuckin didnt <3

[thefanficmonster]

Hey, I'm the 3word anon! I guess to make this easier, you call call me 📚🌻

I just wanted to say that you did an amazing job! I loved reading what you've done! You said that you wanted more words so here it is your next words: tradition, needle and tribute

Love, 📚🌻

I'm so glad you liked it dear 📚🌻 ! I absolutely love this challenge and I don't think I'll ever get tired of it hehe. Hope you enjoy this one too!

Freedom

Pairing: Rick Flag x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of drug use, Mentions of injury Spoiler Free 😊

Genre: Romance, Humor

“Flag, I have someone coming on-board with you.“ Waller’s voice comes in through the radio of the jet colonel Rick Flag was about to take off with, taking the Suicide Squad on their newly assigned mission.

He rolls his eyes, engine of the jet roaring to signal it’s ready to lose contact with the ground and rise up into the skies - much like Rick, who’s already fed up with the Squad’s members who are explicitly annoying and pesky today, promising him a ton of headaches in the near future. With that in mind, these news Waller has given him so suddenly, he’s not particularly excited to welcome another lunatic on the jet. Another lunatic to deal with.

“Who the hell are you sending? Don’t you think my hands are already full enough?!“ He yells at the top of his lungs in order for his voice to overpower the engine’s loudness.

“I’m here to help you, you ungrateful piece of shit!“ This voice, familiar voice, doesn’t emerge from the radio, instead it’s coming from right behind him and is equally as strained as his due to the loud, ear-bleeding surroundings.

Before Rick can even comprehend the presence of another person, said person gets seated on the copilot’s seat, equipping a pair of headphones so the two can communicate without pushing their lungs to the brink of giving out.

“What the hell are you doing here, L/N?“ He asks, his eyes unable to hide even a little bit of the confusion that the girl’s presence has brought upon him.

Contrary to his seriousness and shock, the girl gives him a bright, almost teasing smile, “Oh come on, Flag. I have a soft spot for you, you know, I like helping you.“ She tilts her head ever so slightly, “And I don’t feel like giving Waller the pleasure of detonating this bomb at the back of my neck.“

“Thought so.“ He scoffs, watching Y/N’s movements out of the corner of his eye as she straps herself in. 

She rolls her eyes, cracking her knuckles before turning to him, deciding to pick up on this petty war, just to make matters worse for Rick and more amusing for herself, “Aren’t you gonna shoot me? I mean, it’s our tradition.”

Rick cringes, recalling the exact event - or rather events, plural - she’s referring to: the night he arrested her and a few others, all henchmen of the Joker. Unlike her co-workers however, Y/N put up one hell of a fight while those fuckers chose flight. Their decision didn’t get them far while hers led her to the hospital wing of the Belle Reve prison, a bullet in her side fired at her by colonel Flag. Seeing the report files on the altercation, Waller immediately knew the girl was something else and recruited her for the Suicide Squad.

Unfortunately, her first instinct when her eyes first landed upon the colonel was to pounce at him, despite her low chances of succeeding in her intentions considering there were guards and soldiers literally everywhere, all with guns ready to fire. Yet still, Flag was the one who shot her yet again, this time less dangerously close to fatal.

Yeah, she has a right to be pissed and a right to call it their tradition, but it’s also safe to say that their dynamic has improved. They went on to go on a few more missions together without any complications or unwanted altercations. Sure, there were snide remarks and petty comments here and there, but those could be considered compliments when compared to the shootings.

“When are you gonna let that go?“ Rick snaps, his eyes remaining fixated ahead while the jet slowly ascends, “I got you off the streets. I freed you from that psychopath. The last thing you should be is mad!”

There is a long pause between the two, leading Rick to sneak a glance at his co-pilot. She appears to be deep in thought, staring ahead much like he’s supposed to be doing right now. She doesn’t seem like she’s conjuring up a sarcastic response which would be totally up her alley, but oddly enough she seems to be genuinely thinking about what he said. He starts feeling a bit shitty for having snapped at her like that - she wasn’t completely wrong to keep rubbing it in his face, she did suffer two gunshot wounds from him, after all.

“I’m not mad.“ Y/N finally speaks up, not sparing him as much as a look, “I’m grateful. The Joker isn’t the only thing I was trying to escape. One half the day I was doing his dirty work, the other half I had a needle stuck in my arm or was out cold in a drug induced half-coma.“ This time she does turn to take in the expression change that’s happened on his face and she seems pleased with the shock and confusion she sees. “Bet you didn’t know that, did ya?“ Contemplating her next move for a second, she plays with the belts of her bulletproof vest and gear before seemingly deciding on what to do. Her fingers quickly undo the belts and buttons of the gear that’s covering her torso, removing the strong and dense protective material to expose the skin of her side where there’s a scar where she had to have surgery to get the bullet removed. Around the scar there’s a tattoo of a peculiar looking flower, masking the line as a part of itself, “I got that tattoo as a reminder of that night. A tribute to more than one freedom coming to me at once.” She quickly readjusts her gear, and slumps into the seat with a sigh of a deflating balloon. “No longer a slave, no longer an addict. Though, addicts are slaves too - slaves to our own brain’s dependency on a substance that’s destroying us.”

Rick is at a loss for words. He wasn’t expecting that, never did he think Y/N was an addict as well prior to being a henchwoman and then a prisoner. That’s probably due to the fact that she’s always been in a great physical shape, ready to take on the enemy whenever and wherever. “Damn, fucking hell, I’m sorry you had to go through that, Y/N...“ He really doesn’t know what’s there to say when he now feels even shittier than he did before.

He almost jumps out of his skin when he feels her hand on his bicep, “I would still be going through it if it wasn’t for you. In fact, come to think of it, I should apologize for pouncing at you like that when all you did was do me a favor.” She giggles quietly before adding, “But I won’t.”

He too allows himself a small laugh, “I wasn’t expecting you to.“

Of course he wasn’t, he’s come to know her well. And he also knows it’s nothing personal - Y/N is simply not the type of girl who apologizes. That he can stomach, but imagining his co-pilot seat unoccupied on the way back from this mission he cannot.

Damn it, Flag. God fucking damn you, you’ve done it again haven’t you, he asks himself, knowing the answer perfectly well already.

[slowly-writing]

Bullying

Natasha Romanoff x Teen!Reader

Word count: 2K

Requested by anon: Can you do an imagine where natashas daughter is being bullied and she finds out?

You have your hands shoved in your pockets, pulling your jacket down and allowing the hood to fall more into your face, blocking you from the harsh stares of your classmates. You should’ve expected your life to turn out like this. You knew what high school was like. Fitting in was the main priority and the mob of insecure students would swarm anything different.

You should’ve known that you’d be the number one target. The adopted teenager living with the most famous heroes in the world. It was dumb to think you’d be able to fly under the radar the way Peter had. The boy had comforted you those days leading up to your freshman year. Having just finished his own he told you that it would be fine. Boy was he wrong.

The freshman hall was far enough away from the sophomores that he never saw your torment, and over the last three years you learned how to make sure he never would. You wouldn’t let the boy who’d always been like an older brother to you get caught in the crossfire. He’d try to stick up for you and blow the only normal thing he had left. You’ve made it to junior year, you can make it the rest of the way.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by a shoulder slamming into yours, sending you stumbling into the lockers.

“Watch it Annie!” A girl called over her shoulder and you frowned at the nickname. Ever since the kids found out you were adopted they started calling you Annie, after the orphan girl, and you hated it. Rather than saying anything you just quickened your pace and slipped into your first class.

“It’s fine that they call me that,” you mumble to yourself, “that way I don’t flinch at the sound of my own name being called. I’d never be able to hide that from Peter. Or Wanda. Especially not from mom.”

You try to rationalize everything as you settle into your desk, pretending not to see the kids pointing at you and laughing as you become the brunt of their joke.

xxxxx

You manage to ignore it for the most part. The words aren’t what hurt. Well they do, whoever said words will never hurt me obviously didn’t know what they were talking about. But that hurt you could cover with a fake smile and an excuse of being stressed over homework or some other thinly veiled excuse. The giant bruise forming on your forehead was harder to hide.

Some girl named Beverly decided it’d be funny to trip you at lunch, sending you head first into the table. Now you had a lovely purple mark and some swelling by your hairline. Thank god you left a beanie in your locker. It should be enough to cover the injury.

“Hey Romanoff!” The call of your name makes your head snap up in panic, you quickly pull on the hat as Peter makes his way towards you.

“Oh hey Pete, what brings you to my neck of the woods?” you ask, a genuine smile on your face for the first time today.

“I’m heading to the tower to do some work with Tony, wanna walk together?” his smile is wide as he asks, completely carefree, and you wish you could feel that way as well.

“Uh, yeah. Sounds good,” you try to sound casual. There’s no way to brush him off without being obvious. You’re waking the exact same route. Luckily the walk home is fairly uneventful. The assholes seem to be warded off by Peter. The late autumn heat has him in a tank top that shows off his arms, and while he’s not the buffest guy in the school, it’s obvious he can hold his own. If only they knew how strong he really was.

You see a few people staring, more like glaring, but you’re able to ignore them pretty easily. Soon enough the two of you are walking into the lobby of the tower incident free.

“I’m gonna head to the labs. You good from here?” Peter’s question feels heavy, almost as if he was intentionally trying to make you feel safer, but you brush the feeling off with a nod and a wave as you head to the elevator. You’re probably overthinking it. A few moments later you're in the common room and you let out a sigh of relief. Finally a safe place. No teasing here, or at least none with any malice behind it.

“Hey, y/n. How was school?” you look up to see Wanda on the couch and you immediately blush.

“Hey Wan, it was alright. How was...whatever it is you do here during the day?” you tease and she rolls her eyes, a matching blush painting her cheeks. Thank god the kids at school don’t know about this...whatever you have with Wanda. They’d tear you to shreds.

“I do online school and I work, thank you very much. I do important stuff here, ya know, like saving the world,” she’s glaring at you as she says it, but you can see something in her eyes. You can’t quite place it, friendship, something more? Whatever it is, it’s so different from the hate you see from the kids at school.

“A bit full of yourself, aren’t you? I feel like that’s all just fancy talk for free loading and laziness. You gotta get out there, get some dirt under your nails. You’re too spoiled, spending all this time in the tower,” you notice yourself leaning closer to her as you talk and your eyes involuntarily flash towards her lips as butterflies take over your stomach.

“And that uh…that fancy private school you spend your time in. That’s gotta be really...tough?” she tries to defend herself but her words come out weak as she inches ever so much closer. you ‘re about to close the gap when you hear a voice from the doorway.

“I thought I heard you come in. How was school?” The two of you spring apart at your mom’s voice.

“It was good,” you squeak out, adjusting your hat to cover your forehead.

“Yeah, learning a lot,” Wanda mumbles as your mom rolls her eyes. She’s well aware of the weird relationship you and Wanda have, and while she’d prefer you didn’t date until you’re well into your thirties she knows if you’re going to, then Wanda is a good choice.

“What’s with the beanie, love? It’s like eighty degrees out,” your mom’s questions has you panicking.

“I uh...like it. It’s cool,” you defend and Wanda rolls her eyes this time, back to her playful self from earlier.

“I’m sweating just looking at you. Let me help!” she teases and you see the red mist around her hands before you feel it.

“No!” you lunge at her, as if you’d be any match for her powers, but before you even reach her your hat is floating in the air and her eyes are wide.

“What the hell happened?” your mom’s voice is harsh and tears are already gathering in your eyes. You look frantically between your mom and Wanda, who seems to take the hint.

“I’ll give you two some space,” Wanda says before hastily leaving the room.

“Y/n, what happened?” she asks again, gentler this time but you still try to get out of it.

“It’s nothing-” the look in her eyes stops you. It’s the look she sent you when you would try to sneak candy after bedtime when you were little, but this time there’s a pain mixed in that you’re not used to seeing. “It’s just some kids at school. They like to pick on me. It’s really not that big of a deal.”

“How long has this been going on?” She looks...sad and it kind of scares you. That’s not an emotion you’re used to your mom having. Stoicness, yes especially when she’s working. Happiness, yes; more often since you came around your uncles tell you. Love, confidence, bravery, exasperation, even anger sometimes. But almost never sadness or pain and now she’s shown both of those in a matter of minutes.

“Mom,” you try again but she shakes her head, brushing the tears forming in her eyes.

“How long, love?” she asks again and you sigh.

“Since freshman year.” It’s her turn to sigh. Sitting next to you on the couch and pulling you into her side gently. It’s an odd mix of emotions, you can see on her face that she doesn’t know if she wants to cry or burn your school to the ground. You’re sure Wanda is getting a headache trying to sort through the many emotions coming from this room. You ignore that though. You leave the turmoil to everyone else for once as you finally relax, the weight of your secret finally off your shoulders.

“Friday, call Wanda and Peter in here please,” her voice is calm, and you don’t know if you should be scared.

“Mom? What are you-”

“I just want to talk to them,” she cuts you off, and you don’t have time to argue before the two are entering the room.

“Hey Miss Romanoff, Friday said you wanted to-Oh my god! What happened?” Peter yells as he sees the bruise maring your face, and Wanda is silent behind him as he processes the scene. Her eyes are red, almost like she’s been crying. Was she crying for you?

“By that reaction I’m guessing you didn’t know about this. Maximoff, are those tears of sympathy or fear for your life?” your mom snaps and you glare at her.

“I didn’t know, if that’s what you’re asking. I wouldn’t have sat by while she was being hurt,” there’s an anger behind Wanda’s words that you weren’t expecting. You didn’t think she’d cared this much. It makes sense, though, when you think about how you’d feel if the situation was reversed.

“As much as I wanna walk down to the school guns blazing, I can’t go beat up a bunch of kids, so I’m going to need the two of you to look out for her,” you scoff and stand from the couch at your mom’s words, crossing your arms across your chest.

“Excuse me, I’m right here. I’m not an invalid! And Wanda doesn’t even go to my school.”

“I’m well aware, you and I are starting training as soon as that heals,” she gestures to your forehead, “and Wanda will be enrolling in your school. Tony can have it all set up by tomorrow.”

“What? No! I’m not letting her start school just so she can get beaten up too!” you practically yell, but Wanda’s hand on your arm has you looking to her.

“I’m not letting my…” there’s a heavy pause, one that you know you’ll have to find the right word for soon, “friend get hurt when I could help. Plus, they quite literally can’t hurt me, and I want to be there for you.”

Her words have your resolve cracking, but you don’t want to give in that easy. “You’re a year older. You’ll be gone before me,” you try to argue and Wanda looks away, a blush of embarrassment on her cheeks.

“She also missed a lot of school in Sokovia. She tested in a grade below you,” your mom explains, and it clicks as to why Wanda always did school online. Well one of the reasons at least, she’d be two years older than her classmates.

“Well I could tutor you,” you offer quickly, not wanting Wanda to feel ashamed in front of you. “It seems like we’re gonna be spending most of our time together. Plus you’re miles smarter than me. You’ll be the one teaching me in no time.”

“Then it’s settled. This won’t happen again.” Your mom’s words feel more like a promise and you smile. “And I want the names of the girls that did this to you.”

“Mom! I thought you agreed no beating up kids!” you argue, a smile finding its way back on your face as you try to hold back a laugh.

“I’m not going to beat them up. But I never said anything about some light hacking,” she says with a wink and you roll your eyes, not entirely sure if she’s kidding or not.

tag list: @rvgrsbrns @rororo06 @prizmix-and-friends @worlds-in-words @im-salt-but-not-salty @5aftermidnight @riotmaximoff @xxxtwilightaxelxxx 

Marvel women tag list: @imnotasuperhero 

Natasha Romanoff tag list: @indiavance555

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

Ateez: Their Crush Confesses While Drunk

Kim Hongjoong:

"I think you've had enough." Hongjoong said as he snatched the shot glass away from you.

Whining, you tried to take it back. "I think the fuck not!"

Hongjoong only snorted. "Trust me, the last thing you're doing at the moment is thinking."

Huffing, you rested your head on your hands, feeling dizzy and ready to puke at any moment.

"I am thinking for your information." You said with slurred words.

"Really? Do enlighten me, what could you possibly be thinking about in your inebriated state?" He rolled his eyes, knowing you would probably just spurt out some nonsense.

Lifting your face slightly, a goofy smile was spread on your lips.

"I'm thinking of how cute Hongjoong is..... how I just wanna squish his cheeks and kiss those lips of his."

Hongjoong nearly choked on his water at your words.

"Wait, what?"

Sighing, you confessed. "I can't stop thinking about him, I just like him so much......."

Turning to him, you held up a finger to your lips. "But he can't know. It's my little secret."

Hongjoong could clearly see that you were so drunk that you didn't realize that it was him who was in front of you right now. He only blushed slightly.

"Don't worry, your secret is safe with me." He winked at you, already planning out how he was going to tell you about this in the morning.

Park Seonghwa:

Seonghwa was currently in the process of holding your hair up as you spilled your guts out in the toilet.

"I told you not to go out with that friend of yours, cause everytime you do, you end up like this." Seonghwa cringed.

"It wasn't even that bad!" You protested.

"Oh no?! You literally tried to eat a leaf plant thinking it was a salad!" He exclaimed.

Groaning, you lifted your head. "Why are you always nagging and yelling at me?! You're not my mom!"

"Cause I'm your friend and I'd rather you not end up like a hot mess." Seonghwa said.

At his words, you teared up and started crying, it actually made Seonghwa frightened.

"I know you're only looking out for me, cause you're my friend.....that's all you'll ever be. Just my friend!"

You ended up falling on the floor, bawling your eyes out. Seonghwa didn't know whether to hug you or tell you to snap out of it.

"Why can't you love me like I love you? Why do you only see me as a friend? What's wrong with me?"

Seonghwa's heart clenched at your words. He didn't realize you were hurting just as much as he was. Gently, he picked you up and carried you to his room.

"Nothing's wrong with you, you're absolutely perfect. But you're gonna have to wait until you're sober so I can say it to you." He said to himself as he began to tuck you into bed.

Jeong Yunho:

Yunho ran around the parking lot like it was a marathon. How you managed to get lost was beyond him, but all he could think about was finding you and taking you home. After 20 minutes, he found you underneath a tree, passed out.

Sighing, he lifted you up onto his back and started carrying you back to the car. He felt you moving and whining.

"Oh you're awake." Was the only thing he said.

"Are you mad at me?" He could practically hear you pouting.

"No. I was just worried about you and I'm relieved to find you."

Finally arriving where the car was parked, he felt you tighten your hold on him.

"Wait! Let me just stay like this for a bit." You begged him.

"Why?" Yunho asked.

"Cause I really really like you, and you only let me hold you like this when I'm wasted. Let me just stay like this before it's over."

Yunho got flustered by your words, but made no move to get you off him just yet. When he felt that you were asleep, he carefully placed you in the passenger seat and buckled you in.

"You know if you want me to hold you like that, all you have to do is ask."

Kang Yeosang:

Yeosang tried to avoid looking at you in your drunk state. You were currently grinding against somebody, occasionally even letting them kiss your neck, which made him clench his fist under the table. He refused to admit he was jealous though.

Walking up to him, you tried to bring him out of his seat. "Come on Yeosangie! Dance with me!"

He pulled his hand away rather harshly. "No thank you."

You pouted at him. "Come on! Have some fun."

"Y/N stop wasting your time with me and just go back to dry humping whoever you were with." His voice was angry.

Huffing, you stomped your foot. "At least they actually pay attention to me! What do I have to do to get you to notice me? Obviously making you jealous isn't working."

Yeosang only whipped his head towards you. "What?"

"Have you ever been remotely attracted to me? Cause I'm super attracted to you. I seriously like you. But why don't you find me attractive?"

Yeosang looked at you, wondering if it really was you or just the alcohol talking. He did find you attractive, extremely and he was insanely jealous. But he wasn't going to tell you that until he knew for sure you would repeat what you said in the morning.

Choi San:

You woke up with a pounding headache, already regretting the alcohol intake last night. Once your eyes focused, you saw San looking right at you, a huge smile on his face. You screamed and sat up immediately, covering yourself, not realizing both of you were fully clothed.

"Well good morning to you too love." He giggled as he cupped your cheeks.

You squirmed out of his touch, making him pout.

"Is that any way to greet your boyfriend? Come on baby, give me a kiss." He leaned in once again but you dodged him.

"What on earth is wrong with you Choi San?!" You exclaimed.

"What's wrong with me?! What's with you?! First you confess to me, telling me how much you want to date me, and even after I say yes, you treat me like I have coronavirus?"

You stood there, stunned at him.

"What?"

"Don't you remember what happened last night?" He asked.

When you shook your head, he sighed before telling you all the events of last night, from your awkward confession, to him accepting and how he let you sleep with him cause to him you have been official since last night.

Song Mingi:

Mingi was currently standing next to a wild dancing you, trying to make sure you didn't hurt yourself, hurt anyone, or worse, go home with somebody. That was definitely something he wasn't letting happen on his watch.

"Are you having fun Mingi?!" You hollered at the top of your lungs.

"Yeah..... so much." He responded as he adjusted his position, blocking the view of someone who was eyeing you too much.

You turned to him with a mischievous grin on your face.

"If I jump, would catch me?" You asked.

"What?!" He asked, wondering if he heard you right with the music blasting too loud.

Without warning, you sprinted to him before jumping into his arms. Mingi stumbled a bit, but regained his balance quickly. He looked over to make sure you weren't hurt.

"You're either really brave or really stupid when you're drunk." He shook his head at you.

"What would you classify this as then?"

Right then and there, you crashed your lips against his, giving him a rather desperate kiss, leaving him stunned.

"Y-yah! What was that for?!" He asked, blushing violently.

"You don't know how long I've wanted to do that. You don't know how long I've wanted you." You confessed, nuzzling into his neck.

Mingi was at a loss for words, he tried not to, but a happy smile formed on his face.

"Y-yah.... Don't say things like that when I don't know if you're serious or not. Don't make my heart flutter just like that."

Jung Wooyoung:

For once, Wooyoung didn't get wasted with you. In fact, he wanted to stay sober just to see if the alcohol in your system would reveal your true feelings for him, since he knew you had no filter when you were drunk. But so far, it seemed you avoided the question.

That was until a girl came up to Wooyoung, flirting with him and practically throwing herself at him. That's when you stepped in and confronted her.

"Hey! Hands off what's not yours you skank!" You warned her.

"Who or what are you?" She scoffed.

"I'm the one who's gonna rearrange your bitch face if you keep hitting on him! He's mine you hear?! I called dibs long ago!" You shouted.

Wooyoung chuckled and blushed at your confession.

"Finally, I knew it. I knew you had the hots for me." He said to himself, proud that he got the confirmation he wanted.

"Fight me bitch! Try me!"

Your voice snapped him back and he realized he needed to pull you away before you got into a cat fight over him, not that he'd mind seeing that.

Choi Jongho:

Jongho stood looking unimpressed as your drunken voice was heard through the dozens of voice mails you left him.

"Yah Choi Jongho! Why aren't you answering me?! I have something important to say!"

"You don't have practice so pick up your phone you oversized panda!"

Jongho chuckled at your cute attempt to offend him.

"Why are you ignoring me?! You're so mean! You asshole!"

He rolled his eyes at that. It was 3 a.m when you sent that voice mail, meaning he was asleep by then in the comfort of his bed, completely unaware that you were getting wasted.

The last voice mail was at 5:30 a.m.

"I'm home, I'm crying and I hope you're happy! Hope you're happy that your life is perfect while I'm here suffering cause I love you so much! I love you so much and you don't give 2 damns you fruit murderer! You treat my heart like those stupid apples you split!"

He could hear your sad, depressed sobs.

"I hate you!..... I love you but I hate you!! You and your stupid muscly arms! But oh god how they turn me-"

The last thing he heard was your puking noises before the message ended.

"Aish! Seriously Y/N! You couldn't think of a better way to confess to me?" Sighing, he picked up his jacket, making his way to your house to take care of your hungover ass and get an explanation.

Gifs not mine, credit goes to their respective owners.

[cozy-neko]

The Cherry On Top • 01 • 02 | The Cherry On Top • 03

“Kozume, are you even listening to me?” Akaashi sighs and closes his laptop. He was only halfway through his scheduled agenda for today’s meeting, but there was no point in continuing if his client was just going to ignore him for the whole hour.

“I am, I am,” Kenma mumbled, eyes fixated on something that was hidden under the table.

“What did I just talk about for the last ten minutes then?” Akaashi challenged.

“We’re changing my video uploads from Tuesdays to Fridays, and Black Sheep wants to do a sponsorship with me in my next stream,” Kenma replies without skipping a beat. His feline eyes are still glued to his phone, unblinking, as his fingers tapped away at one of his games.

Akaashi sighed once more. “And you’re fine with the upcoming changes and sponsorship then?”

Kenma nodded. “Akaashi. I trust you to make the best decisions for me.” He finally slipped his phone back into his pocket and tilted his head to look his friend in the eye. “I didn’t hire you as my manager for no reason.”

“If I knew working with you was going to be this difficult, I would’ve stuck with my previous job.” Akaashi flashed the male a wry smile.

“Hey, if you want to hand in your resignation letter right now and go back to your previous life of disgusting convenience store food and cigarettes for lunch, by all means.” Kenma smirked and extended a hand out, palm up as if waiting for an actual resignation letter to manifest from Akaashi.

Akaashi cleared his throat and reopened his laptop. “Moving on...”

“TOORU!!!” Y/N screamed at the top of her lungs as soon as she spotted the fashion editor from across the courtyard. Lunchers nearby stared at the loud girl before turning their heads to look at the unfortunate boy on the receiving end of the shout.

Oikawa contemplated ignoring his friend and instead considered turning around to head back inside TK Mag’s office building. He would rather eat with his annoying suck-up intern than his embarrassing friend. Unfortunately for him, said friend yelled his name once more and beckoned for him to come over.

Oikawa’s eye twitched and he reluctantly trudged across the courtyard and towards Y/N.

“Don’t be so embarrassing, Y/N-chan,” Oikawa grumbled as he took a seat across from her.

“Oh please, as if that airplane tie you’re wearing isn’t embarrassing,” Y/N shot back, eyes flickering up once at the cartoon-printed tie before back down at her laptop screen.

“They’re UFOs, for your information,” Oikawa mumbled through gritted teeth, “and besides, Ayame-chan said it was cute, so your opinion is invalid and unnecessary.”

“Enough about your tie. I’m about to literally combust from nerves.” 

“What is it this time?” Oikawa rolled his eyes and lazily sipped his latte. 

“I’m about to schedule my first blog post for tomorrow.” At this, Oikawa’s eyes widened and he straightened up in his seat.

“Who’s the unlucky victim?” Oikawa scooted closer to Y/N, their elbows touching as he leaned in to read off her screen.

“You know, for someone who looks like she’s about to shit her pants from nerves, you wouldn’t be able to tell with Cherry’s online persona,” Oikawa hummed and nonchalantly commented. 

Y/N smacked his shoulder once in response. 

“That’s the whole point, Oinkawa. No one’s supposed to know that Cherry is me, and that I am Cherry.” Y/N sighed and brought the tip of her thumb to her mouth. She nibbled on her fingernail nervously as she clicked on the draft of her blog post. “Well? Can you tell who it is?”

“I would say Miya Atsumu, the MSBY setter, but I wouldn’t exactly call him beautiful, Y/N-chan.”

“It’s not Miya Atsumu and you take that back! He is beautiful, but that’s besides the point; it’s Kozume Kenma, the professional gaming streamer and content creator.”

“Well that’s subjective,” Oikawa sneered. Iwaizumi once had the opportunity to interview Miya Atsumu for an editorial, and Oikawa had tagged along much to Iwaizumi’s headache. Having played as a setter as well during his time in high school, Oikawa had some differences with Atsumu’s playing style, and the two did not get along too well that day.

“How’d you even get this dirt on Kozume Kenma anyways?” Oikawa made a face and smacked Y/N’s hand away from her mouth. “That’s disgusting, Y/N-chan, and you’re getting nail polish in your teeth.”

“I stalked his fan accounts on Twitter. It’s amazing what you can find with a little digging, to be honest.” Y/N scanned her draft. “And a little scary,” she added as an afterthought.

“Ugh, kami, I can’t do this, Tooru!” Y/N whined and shut her laptop, taking her head into her hands. “This is the most disgusting line of work I’ve ever imagined myself having to do.”

“You know no one is forcing you to take this promotion, right?” Oikawa leaned back and crossed his arms across his chest.

“This is Y/N and TK Mag we’re talking about here.” Oikawa and Y/N turned around at the new voice. “If you were over $100k in student debt and a well-known and well-paying company offered you a promotion, wouldn’t you take it?” Iwaizumi and Hanamaki walked up to the duo and took a seat at their table.

“You’re literally talking about the girl who’s dream is to become a princess and find a rich prince charming to take care of her,” Hanamaki added.

“Hey!” Y/N interjected, but was ignored. 

“But she also didn’t graduate as a journalist with an emphasis in fashion from UTokyo to become a gossip blogger,” Oikawa pointed out.

“Okay can we not talk about me like I’m not here?” Y/N pouted. “And you all have valid points.” 

She sighed. This was a tough decision. Y/N does have a lot of student debt to pay off, and the pay raise that came with the promotion was definitely enticing and worth drooling over. On the other hand, Oikawa was right in which Y/N didn’t graduate with over $100k in debt with a journalism degree to become a gossip blogger. But one thing that Y/N also had to think about was that this promotion would’ve been her opportunity to become a full-time employee at TK Mag, her dream company. And then there was Hanamaki, who was there just to out her (slightly) embarrassing and (very much so) unrealistic dream.

“Why’d you even take the promotion anyways? You could’ve just stayed an intern and wait for staff writer positions to open up.”

Y/N knocked twice before entering the Editor in Chief’s private office. “Good afternoon, Chief! You wanted to see me?”

“Oh yes, Y/N, come in. Please, take a seat while I finish up this email.”

Y/N grinned and skipped over to the loveseat that occupied the middle of the office. She crossed her legs and smoothed her blouse. Y/N was buzzing, and it wasn’t just because of the three cups of coffee she had stomached throughout the day.

“Judging by how you can’t sit still, I’m assuming you know why I called you in here.” 

“Oh, sorry. I’ve had one too many cups of coffee today,” Y/N responded sheepishly. “But I hope you’re gonna tell me what I think it is you’re gonna tell me.” 

It was hard for Y/N to keep the smile on her face from growing as she watched her Chief pull out a folder and place it down on the coffee table in front of her. The smile on Y/N’s face grew bigger as the Chief pulled out a piece of paper and slid it towards her. It was exactly what Y/N was expecting: a contract for a full-time position at the company.

“Congratulations, Y/N. Your hard work has not gone unnoticed these past few months you’ve been at TK Mag as an intern, and we’d like to extend our offer to you as a full-time employee.”

“Yes, yes, yes! I accept!” Y/N squealed and eagerly looked through her tote bag for a pen. “I don’t even care what staff writer position it’s for -- although my first choice would be for the fashion department since I did go to school for fashion journalism -- but I’m so excited!!” Y/N was already picturing herself attending fashion shows with Oikawa.

“Y/N, wait. Before you sign, I just want you to know that the full-time position isn’t to become a staff writer for the fashion department.”

“Huh?” Y/N stopped riffling through her bag. “...What is it for then?” 

“TK Mag is going to try something new. We’re going to branch out to a sister site and run a gossip blog called The Cherry on Top. I want you to take on the alias as Cherry and run the blog.”

“Gossip... blog...? The Cherry on Top? Me?” Y/N could hardly comprehend what the Chief was saying.

“Will you accept? I know it’s a brand new position and something we’ve never done before at TK Mag, but we have high hopes and I know you’ll do well as one of my best employees.”

“With all due respect, Chief, I’m a fashion writer. I write about fashion week and the latest trends in the fashion industry. I don’t write gossip nor do I want to slander anyone. It’s not my cup of tea.” Y/N narrowed her eyes. She couldn’t believe the Chief wanted her to do such dirty work.

“I had a feeling this might be the case.” The Chief sighed, and all signs of pleasantries disappeared. “Listen, Y/N, if you don’t want this promotion, I’ll give it to the next intern in line. But just know that if you don’t take this position, you’re going to have to clear out your desk by end of day and find a new company to work for.”

Y/N was in disbelief. She couldn’t believe her career was getting threatened. Her grip on her pen tightened as she stared at the document in front of her. The words Full-time Employee Contract for: Cherry, The Cherry on Top seemed to glare at her. 

“There will also be a hefty raise included in your promotion,” the Chief added after witnessing Y/N’s hesitation. “You did just graduate from UTokyo, did you not? Surely you don’t want to be riddled with student debt.”

Y/N was torn. What was she going to do? TK Mag was her dream company, and if she refused the promotion and got let go, she would drown in debt. Surely being a gossip blogger wouldn’t be too bad, right?

Y/N swallowed her pride and uncapped her pen. With a quick flourish, she signed her signature on the contract and forlornly shook hands with a now-smiling Chief. 

I hope I didn’t make the wrong decision...

“You made the right decision, Y/N. Welcome to the team.”

Y/N gulped. She couldn’t tell her friends that her job security had been threatened if she didn’t take the promotion.

“Well maybe it was time for me to grow up. I don’t need a rich prince charming to take care of me. I’ll take care of myself with my new pay raise.” Y/N grimaced on the inside. She hoped that was convincing, but judging by the silent stares she received from her three male friends, even she knew they weren’t too believing of her.

“Anyways, Cherry promised her 500 followers the first post will be up tomorrow, and she isn’t one to break promises, so... let’s queue this baby up.” With a swift click of her trackpad, Y/N’s first gossip post as Cherry was scheduled.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, Oikawa, Iwaizumi, and Hanamaki shared a look.

Kenma was unfazed. He really was. Even when his Twitter notifications blew up with mentions, he simply ignored them. It wasn’t like he paid much attention to them in the first place anyways. And when he was in the middle of streaming and his Twitch chat started spamming the link to the blog post, he simply told his mods to delete comments that had anything to do with it.

Kenma was unfazed. Simply because it just wasn’t true. And even though the readers didn’t know if it was true or not and the article was currently trending in the Esports vertical and being repurposed for other articles, Kenma knew it wasn’t true and therefore did not care.

Except Akaashi was getting on his nerves as his manager continued to try to bring it up in conversations. 

“Kozume, you have to say something.”

“Why?” Kenma sighed. He really didn’t see the need to say anything. It wasn’t like this was the first time Kenma had been the subject of a rumor. It was all going to die down soon anyways.

“It’s been three days already and people are still commenting on it. Your fans are upset, and I think you owe it to them to explain your side.” 

“It’s not a big deal, Akaashi. If fans are that upset about a rumor of me boosting League accounts as a side business, they probably should get a job and hop off Twitter once in a while,” Kenma mumbled and continued to click away on his game controller.

“Well it’s not just your fans that are upset, Kozume. Your sponsorship with Black Sheep is also on rocks right now because of the rumor.” 

At that, Kenma’s fingers slowed, and he watched his character get headshot by the enemy on the TV.

“You’re telling me that they believe some stupid rumor that was probably written by a jealous 13-year-old?” Kenma scowled, and Akaashi finally felt his friend getting serious about the situation. It wasn’t often that Kenma showed his emotions other than his usual aloof self, but when his projects started to get affected, Kenma took things really serious.

“It’s not that they believe it, but they haven’t been as responsive to my emails as they usually are ever since the post was published. It seems they might be taking your silence as the truth.”

Kenma sighed and tossed his controller to the side. He wasn’t in the mood to game anymore. Instead, he stood up and trekked down the hallway towards his game room. Looks like he had a fire to diffuse if he wanted to keep his sponsorship alive.

end notes:

→ student debt and job security is no joke 😢

→ mattsun did not join y/n, oikawa, iwa-chan, and hanamaki during lunch because he was away on a photoshoot assignment

→ kenma did boost league accounts back when he was still in college and barely starting out as a streamer... except the accounts he boosted was kuroo’s and hinata’s because they wouldn’t stop begging him to until he did

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[softfeelingsandangstywriting]

Whumptober: Sticks And Stones May Break My Bones But...

When their friends had questions, it was usually a normal question; “How are you?” “What’s going on?” “Do you guys need anything?” But sometimes, it was something more touchy, and definitely something harder to talk about. Such as the scar on Raph’s face, reaching from the edge of his jawline down to right above his plastron.

None of them wanted to talk about it, obviously, but when Casey or April set their mind to something, they were determined to succeed.

Michelangelo, when asked, smirked, started to tell the story, then dodged the question with some kind of prank or a distraction, brushing it off with light-hearted jokes and fun times.

Donatello got flustered, stammering and trying to find something to say before mumbling about a project he needed to get done and locking himself away in his lab.

Leonardo reacted far more calmly, meeting their gaze and saying that he was supposed to be doing something, he needed to train, needed to sharpen his swords, he was really overwhelmed and wanted to meditate, had to help one of his brothers with something, and for the most part, he was telling the truth. For the most part, they left him alone afterwards.

Of course, for obvious reasons, they never went to Raphael himself to ask him about it, most likely believing it to be something sensitive to him.

And, sure, he was thankful, but sometimes it got frustrating. Seriously, why couldn’t they just ask? It wasn’t like he’d be sad about it, he thought the scar was cool.

See, it went something like this-

%%%

They were thirteen, a reasonable age to be getting into trouble. At that age, the lair was never quiet, somebody always up to something.

This time, Michelangelo was being an idiot. He pulled a prank on Raphael, and, even though it was just meant to be fun, had accidentally brought the wrath of the hot-head upon him.

Per usual, that prank ended with Michelangelo getting chased down by the second oldest and screaming at the top of his lungs while trying to gather up pillows as he went by the couch to defend himself. Raphael, being bigger and faster than the proclaimed youngest, tackled him down to the floor in a decking that would’ve made any hockey player proud.

Also per usual, it was up to Leonardo to interfere, getting a hold of Raphael and, quite literally, dragging him off of Michelangelo while he screeched about something unintelligible.

But, Raphael did not need Leonardo trying to soothe his frayed nerves right then, he was an inferno at the moment, and only wanted violence.

“Oh my God!” Raphael exclaimed, elbowing Leonardo in the shin to the best of his ability, “Do you mind? You’re not better than us, Golden Boy! Stop acting like you are!”

“Wh-” Leonardo blinked a couple times, clearly astonished by this outburst, then yelled back, “I am not! I don’t act like that, I’m just trying to keep you from beating the living crap out of Mikey!”

“Then why don’t you fight me? You’re acting pretty confident right now.”

Splinter, in the background, watched on, silent, to see how they would react to the fight within the team, even as Leonardo looked to him for help with Raphael’s temper.

There was a long-suffering sigh as Raphael’s struggles died down and Leonardo’s grip loosened before he nodded in agreement.

"Fine, Bonehead.”

Raphael let out a victorious laugh and wiggled up to his feet, marching off to the dojo while Leonardo rubbed his temples to ward off the rapidly approaching headache before following shortly after.

When Leonardo got there, Raphael already had his sai out, twirling them and wearing a crooked grin as he waited for Leonardo to draw his swords.

“Raph, you frickin' idiot.”

Raphael only smiled wider and crouched, delighted when Leonardo mirrored his movements with an exasperated sigh.

As soon as the elder was ready, he lurched forward, slamming into Leonardo full-force. The blue-clad grunted from the weight of the other, then pushed back with his katanas to shove Raphael off of him.

Chasing after the younger brother, Leonardo brought the katanas down in a long slice to force Raphael to raise up his own weapons so that he could catch the attack, trying to force him into a corner and keep him on his toes, moving faster so that the hothead wouldn’t even have the time to strike back.

Raphael struggled, trying to dart in and get a good hit at Leonardo, but he definitely hadn’t expected Leonardo to be so serious about this fight. Then- He saw his opening, Leonardo made the mistake of leaving his right side open for an attack, and he took the chance.

Raphael darted forward, slamming the hilt of one of his sais into the other’s side, and grinning when Leonardo staggered, a short gasp leaving him. Now the tables had turned, and Leonardo was getting forced up against a wall by the hothead. Back, back, back and-!

The hothead froze and hopped back as a katana went flying by his head. He watched as it embedded itself into the wall, almost up to the hilt, and forgot all about the spar until he was going down, the other blade still held by his brother, and pressed to his throat.

Leo had the audacity to smirk after that unfair win, before he pulled the sword away.

“Really, Raph, if you were so intent on winning, you would’ve kept your eyes on me, and not the loose katana-”

The mentioned brother grit his teeth as Leonardo taunted him, then stood up and glared like he wished he could kill the other with his eyes.

“This is what I’m talking about! You’re acting like you’re better than me right now, like you wouldn’t have done the same! I just-” Raphael cut off in a wordless scream, grabbing the sides of his head before turning on his heel and storming out. He didn’t care where, he just had to be out of the lair.

There was a certain area they couldn’t go past without explicit permission from Splinter, but it was far from home, so he went there, looking for somewhere far, far away that would allow him to calm down.

And. There was a ladder. They weren’t supposed to go up to the surface, but it was even farther and-

No, no. He was not supposed to go up, so he wouldn't. Raphael looked away and started pacing, hands curled into tight fists, but, his gaze drifted back to that ladder, then up to the manhole.

What the- He grit his teeth and silently scolded himself for considering it again. He really needed to move away from that thing if it was going to be a temptation-

He looked back, one more time, and sighed. It would just be a short trip to the surface, nothing quick or serious. Once he had calmed down, he would come back into the sewers, go home, and everything would be alright.

Raphael grabbed one of the rungs of the ladder and glanced up before slowly beginning to climb, testing how sturdy it was before moving up higher.

After an experimental push at the manhole cover, he was pleased to see that it went up without a problem. And, as he slowly crawled out, he paused to gape. The sky was almost black, lit up by a dim orange, but the city itself was brighter than the moon, lights sparkling like stars.

He was taken aback, mouth half open before he realized that he shouldn't just linger there. So, he crawled out, slowly set the manhole cover back in its place, and stood straight up. But once he was done gawking at the surface, his anger came back full force. What a way to ruin his moment of peace.

He tested the fire escape to his right first to make sure it wouldn't fall apart as soon as he tried to pull himself up, then went racing up it to get to the top. Raphael breathed in deep, enjoying the cool breeze from the rooftop before beginning to pace, muttering about his insufferable brother.

And then, there were some dudes cackling. That shouldn't have been so alarming, but something in Raphael screamed that it was wrong, he needed to go see it. 

As Raphael approached the edge of the building, he squinted at the people below, and immediately felt the rage boil up in him. It was four grown men harassing one girl. From the looks of it, they were mugging her.

His lip curled up in a snarl as he felt around his belt, looking for a kunai or throwing star or something like that. Once he had it, he tossed it down and heard it clatter. The men turned to look, giving the girl a chance to run, and after they had realized it was a weapon, they glanced up to where he was hiding, although they couldn't see him yet.

"Who's there?" One of them growled, one with a big, winding tattoo over his neck and right shoulder.

Raphael dropped down, not thinking clearly about the odds of the battle. After all, he had been training all his life, what could they do?

One or two of them paused, eyes widening at the sight of him before shaking the initial shock off, getting ready. The others were already stanced up, ready for a fight.

...Needless to say, it went badly. They were many, he was alone. They were adults and he was barely even a teenager. He was way in over his head, and ended up held down by a pair of them while one looked him over, and the other examined his sai. 

"Jesus..." The one to his left muttered, looking him over while he kicked and writhed.

"This thing," The dude in front of him, Tattoo Guy, crouched and reached his hand out, "Is ugly as-"

He yelled and pulled his hand back as Raph reached forward and snapped at his hand.

"Stupid-" he growled, rubbing his hand. Then, he turned to the dude still holding Raph's sai and held his hand out, "Hey, hand me one of those, aight? I'm gonna teach it a lesson for bothering us."

Raphael's stomach dropped, a chill running down his spine. He thrashed harder as the weapons were exchanged, trying to get away, they were gonna hurt him-

"Hold it still, don't wanna kill it."

Somebody grabbed his head, restraining him and forcing him to look up. He squeezed his eyes shut as the weapon was raised, and-!

A scream tore its way from his throat as they carved it through his skin, leaving a burning cut from his jawline to the tip of his plastron. Raphael began to writhe, pushing against them as they stood up and kept their grip on him. Somebody kicked him and then he was getting dragged along the concrete and shoved into the back of a truck.

He could hear them laughing while he shrunk into a corner, shivering and afraid.

Were they- Were they gonna take him? He should have just stayed home, then he could've avoided this whole mess-

They cackled in the front of the truck, he could hear them through the wall, and the engine started up before they started driving. He wasn't entirely sure how long it had been, but eventually, they stopped and the doors to the back opened.

Raphael got grabbed roughly by the arm, their grip tightening almost to a crushing point as they dragged him out, into the back alley, and then kicked him down.

Those sadists were definitely having fun with it, throwing him down and kicking him around while he was injured and unarmed. When they got bored and finished up, they opened up a manhole (his gateway to home, yes!) and threw him down inside before closing the cover after him and leaving.

He hit the ground hard, his shell contacting the concrete with a sickening thud, and knocking the air right from his lungs.

Raphael blinked, chest heaving even though nothing would enter his lungs. He laid there for a long moment, stunned from the fall, bruises throbbing and blood running down his face.

He. He didn’t want to go home, he realized after air started entering his body again.

Sure, there was help there, and it was definitely safe, but he didn’t want to have to face the others injured. Besides, they weren’t supposed to be going up to the surface, he knew that rule as well as any of his brothers.

Instead, he slowly propped himself up on his arms, taking deep breaths to try and get rid of the last of the shock from falling before standing shakily. Raphael teetered for a moment, and he had to brace himself on the wall to avoid falling back down. Once steady, he wandered over to the part of the sewers that he knew he had been supposed to stay in.

When he was safe, and somewhere that he supposed people wouldn’t find him, he raised a hand to touch the injury, wincing and pulling his hand away immediately after. Jeez- That was a lot of blood. Hadn’t Donatello said something about how much heads bleed? Maybe the nerd had actually said something useful for once.

Then he realized that there were footsteps and froze before pressing himself up against the wall, looking for a hiding place, somewhere he wouldn’t get caught-

“Raph?”

Oh. It was- It was just Leonardo. Of course it was just Leonardo, because he was always the one who found them first.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, voice impossibly soft, because it was Leonardo.

“Go away,” Raphael rasped, still holding the bleeding side of his face, “I don’t wanna see you right now.”

“Raph, look at me.”

“No.”

“I said look at me-!”

Leonardo grabbed Raphael, and before the younger of the two could even react, he had been turned around to face the oldest, and he knew that Leonardo could see the blood now, he could see the bruises and scrapes, and shoot, he looked concerned. Raphael could only feel bad, because now his brother went looking for him, already worried, just to find him hurt.

“Oh,” Leonardo said dumbly, probably at a loss for words, “I see.”

“It’s really nothin’ to be worried ‘bout, Leo. It’s not deep-”

Leonardo tightened his grip on Raphael’s shoulder to shut him up, meeting his gaze clearly. “You realize how long you’ve been gone? You left an hour ago, Raph. We all went looking for you, and we couldn’t find you, because there’s not much to be seen in this little space of sewer. Mikey got cold, Donnie had to check on something, and I stayed, I kept looking for you and even asked for permission to go further in the sewers, just in case.

And then? I found blood, Raph, I found your blood, leading here. You freaking scared me, I thought you were really hurt, or worse!”

And of course, Leonardo found his blood, that hyper-aware son of a gun- The nicknamed “Fearless” was afraid, for him- And his brother was still going, now bombarding him with questions about it.

“Who did this to you? Where are they? How’d this happen? You need to see Sensei or Don, are you alright? You look pale, we really need to get back, everybody is worried and-”  Leonardo cut off as Raphael sniffled, looking down and not at him anymore.

He rubbed his eyes, sniffled again, and then sobbed, crumpling down and taking Leonardo with him as he cried.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry-! I just-” he gasped for air between the sobs, a low whine leaving him before he kept going, “I got so angry, and I didn’t want to stay down here, I felt trapped and I went up to the surface,” Leonardo's eyes widened, but he didn't say anything, thankfully, letting the younger tell his story, “I- I got up to a roof and I heard these dudes laughing, they were mugging this girl, Leo! They were gonna hurt her so- So I interfered, and I know you’re gonna say that was risky but I couldn’t just do nothing! They ganged up and took me down, and kicked me around some to rub it in,” he doesn’t mention that they were hurtful verbally, too. That part wasn’t important, “Then- Then they dumped me back in the sewers about a mile or two back, and I came here.”

He realized that Leonardo was digging his fingers into his own thigh, eye ridges furrowed as his jaw tensed. He was angry, and Raphael couldn't help but wonder-

“Are you mad at me..?”

Leonardo paused, and his facial expression relaxed. In fact, he almost looked hurt by the question, gaze softening as he looked Raphael over.

After a long moment of silence, he answered, his conviction clear in his answer, “...Not at you, I’m not angry at you, I’m the one who made you go up in the first place. I’m angry at them. They’re stupid and cruel, and you’re one of the coolest people I know.”

“...Leo, you only know four people.”

“Shut up and take the compliment before I take it back.”

Raphael sniffled again and then laughed softly, shoulders shaking from it. “Alright, fine, fine. I know I’m cool, anyway.”

Leonardo grinned, wide and happy, and Raphael was a little relieved that the other was feeling better. He was, too, he realized. Somehow, that dork had managed to cheer him up (and he’d have to thank him for it later, but not verbally. He’d find something nice or Space Heroes-related and leave it in his room for him).

“I’ll be right back,” Leonardo said suddenly, standing up and racing off.

Raphael paused, confused at the sudden disappearance of his brother. What the..? But he didn’t leave, he just leaned back and waited, picking at the bandages on his hands while he waited. When Leonardo returned, it was with some bandages, water, and disinfectant, and he was beaming, proud of what he had done.

Without speaking, he crouched back down, cleaning up the injury to keep it from infecting. Raphael hissed and winced from the sting as it fizzed, but he made sure to be nice and still while Leonardo worked on bandaging him up.

But, as he was finishing up- “I’m gonna kill those people..” Leonardo had muttered it, just barely loud enough for Raphael to hear, but it was definitely concerning to hear.

“Wait- What?” he had to double-check to make sure that he had heard the other correctly.

“What ‘what’? I didn’t say anything, we need to get home anyway. I’m sure if you’re honest, Splinter won’t be too harsh with the punishment for going up,” Leonardo brushed that off way too casually, standing up.

“No wait-” Raphael stammered, hopping up after him.

“I said, let’s go home, Raph.”

[nonopi]

fever dream Jack x Miranda, Mass Effect 2

Jack aims to sleep her sickness away, but what she gets instead is a cryptic fever dream.

for @lesbianically, my @masseffectholidaycheer giftee!

---

Jack wanted to be anywhere but here. Trapped between the commander Shepard standing in the doorway and the bed she was currently lying paralyzed on, under a barrage of Cerberus-issued blankets.

"She doesn't nurse just anyone back to health." Jane had a big smile on her face again, like she’d just found out some grand secret. "And I would know."

"Just shut up," Jack hoped she sounded as ferocious as she imagined, despite the pile of blankets muffling her voice and how stuffed her nose was. "Go away."

She heard Shepard laugh again before retreating back into the common area. Finally, quiet at last. Normally she could take a little teasing from the commander, but she couldn't even breathe out of her nose right now. Standing was out of the question. And why did she feel so, so cold? She wasn't used to covering her entire body with cloth, but now she couldn't get enough of it.

Jack closed her eyes tightly, willing the sickness away. It's mind over matter, baby. A motto that had done her well for the most part. But this was something she couldn’t control, as much as she hated to admit it. It infuriated her, frustrated her, and it made it even worse that Miranda was the one actively taking the time to make sure that everything was being done to get her back in top condition. Miranda was in control. Miranda was in control of Jack’s livelihood. 

Literally, anyone else would be better. Even Mordin fucking Solus. In fact, why not send Dr. Chakwas in? The actual doctor onboard the ship.

She only had one option at this point. Sleep. Rest. Heal. If time was the only thing that could fix her, she might as well not be conscious to suffer through any of it. If only her brain would shut up for five seconds to drift off into sleep. Sleep didn’t come naturally to her under normal circumstances anyway, this probably wasn’t going to be the exception.

Jack’s eyes split back open, immediately snapping onto the pills Miranda had left on the side table next to a bottle of water. She remembered it in a groggy haze, she was awake but feigning sleep as soon as she heard the telltale sounds of Miranda’s boots hitting the floor. But she was not fooled by that charade.

“Take these pills when you’re ready to sleep,” she set the pills down without hesitation, her voice just as trained and unwavering as ever. “Dr. Chakwas said they’ll clear up some of your symptoms but it’ll knock you out. Don’t throw them away.” 

She would’ve rolled her eyes if she could.

But what Jack remembered the most was when the silence stretched out but neither woman moved a muscle. She didn’t know if Miranda was waiting for a reaction or a verbal response but she wasn’t going to give her one. But that wasn’t it at all, it was a cold but smooth hand laid to rest on Jack’s forehead. The sensation soothed her headache, made her feel vividly present in a way she hadn’t even before she fell ill. Something about being detached, aggressive enough to keep people away, never vulnerable enough to let people even get a glimpse of herself, her true self. To let someone touch her in such a way, a way that couldn’t be misconstrued as hostile or with ulterior motives, just the intention to feel and to help.

And when she felt her eyes spring open, gaze landing on Miranda’s too-pretty face and her carefully schooled expression and the other woman only had this to say, “Take the pills, Jack. We’re the same, we hate the loss of ability. But if you’re going to be vulnerable anywhere, it might as well be here.”

Then she turned and left without another word and Jane came in shortly after, Jack’s head still reeling from whatever had just happened. 

And now? The stupid cheerleader was right. How long was it worth it to stay miserable and staring at the blank wall that touched her bed just to maintain some control over a body that had betrayed her with some higher purpose of fighting a virus? Even if she trusted nobody else on board, she did trust Jane. And Jane trusted everyone else, even Miranda. Was that enough for her?

Jack took the pills and the water and swallowed. 

It was only a matter of time now.

---

Dreams that faded into nightmares she was accustomed to. No one lives through horrors like she had without bringing it with them everywhere, subconsciously. She meant it when she said she didn’t sleep well. Ever.

But drug-induced sleep? It wasn’t her first time. Plunged into eternal darkness, no concept of time or surroundings or a body. It was nothing and she was no one. And waking was jarring and incomprehensible. The concept of not existing seeped into consciousness and followed her ruthlessly, sometimes bringing her to tears.

This was not that way. Not yet. 

It was not blackness but warmth. It was not the cosmic void, but the cosmic heat and light of places she knew. This is where her dreams and nightmares were, sequences fading in and out, creating cohesion where there logically was none.

She let it happen, watched as her body took her places. First an errand for Jane for something in the cafeteria that did not belong there. Then they were off the ship and on Omega, red lights dominating her vision. They were all walking somewhere, the entire crew. She couldn’t gather if it was in panic or in excitement. She followed and followed until she was on the Citadel. At least she had the decency to know she hated it here in reality. But something was wrong and she was pushing herself over the railing and into the decorative pools that separated the walkways. She had to find something. Or someone? She sloshed through the shallow waters knowing it would take her to the lower levels of the Citadel, somehow ending up in the seedy bars that the Alliance military officers sometimes frequented. But it wasn’t quite right, something was off about the bar because where it once had faceless walls, it sprouted wings of corridors of cells. 

“Where is she?” It was Jane. She couldn’t see her but she must be near. Her voice was hoarse and when Jack tried to respond, her throat hurt too. Had she been yelling the same?

But she felt the anger, seething rage, pouring out of Jane’s voice and into her own. “Where is she?” An echo, she was already summoning her biotics to force an answer out of an unknown entity. Faceless. Dark. A cigarette in his hand was the only light upon him.

“You can’t have her.” Her own voice again, her heart pounding in her chest, fear winding her body tight, fear not for herself but for another. How long had it been?

She could feel the tears, a torrent down her cheek. “Speak, you sick fuck!” But she couldn’t move forward, towards or away from the man. Her biotics fizzled away until she was just Jack, her hands balled into fists, her emotions too much for her.

Jane pulls at her arm and they’re running away. Something pursues them. They’re running through the corridors of cells, the water from the presidium pools hinders their every movement. Searching, searching, they’re looking for someone. She’s so grateful to Jane for being there to help her.

And suddenly there’s nothing again. Jack kneeling in a pool of black water, a body in her arms. The white suit of a strong woman. The jet black hair twisted and stuck to her pale face. But she’s okay. They’re both okay.

“They can’t have us.”

It wasn’t her voice this time. It was Miranda’s.

---

This was worse than a nightmare. She could quell fear. It was something she was so violently trained to do. But waking from a dream, a nightmare, where she wins. And the woman in her arms is someone she couldn’t get out of her mind because everything she did, everything she stood for made her feel so passionately angry and confused and frustrated. 

She knew they were the same, god damn it. 

Miranda didn’t have to say it to her face. They both craved control because they didn’t have it for the majority of their lives. They were both victims of the same thoughtless and cruel people who did not care about the body count, they only cared about progression.

Jack knew all that. And she didn’t care. She didn’t want to fucking care.

But a dream like that held her hostage. Whoever she was in that dream, seeped into this reality now. That Jack with Jane by her side, that Jack who so desperately searched for a missing Miranda, who held her close, and fought against The Illusive Man to keep her away from him, to keep her independent, indebted to no one but herself. Who was that woman? Because it was not her and the thought made her both exhausted and fraught with worry that she never could feel that way again. She would only be that Jack in dreams. Because reality was too cruel to love anyone. Or let anyone love her.

She took a deep breath and touched her forehead, feeling the unhindered air fill her lungs and clear her groggy head. Maybe it was okay to let that Jack stay in the back of her mind. A beacon, a symbol that she could move toward in the darkness. Because she didn’t want to fight forever. She wanted somewhere she could stay and protect and live. 

It wasn’t something she allowed herself to think about often. But Jane opened the door again and maybe it was okay to let it stay open this time. And maybe she could let other people through too. People who helped her. 

People like Miranda?

She groaned and rolled over in her bed, sticking her arms and legs out to meet the cool recycled air. “Over my dead fucking body.” Even though she said it out loud, into her pillow, she wasn’t sure she believed it anymore. 

Or maybe it was just the sickness talking.

[itsthestutterforme]

Distraction (How to Get Away with Murder)

Characters: Teagen Price x fem!reader, Teagen Price x Dom! reader

Summary: Y/N and Teagen have both been under a lot of stress lately and needed diffuse. //EXTREME SMUT WARNING, 18+ ONLY

--

You went to 1518 Bar and Grill in hopes of making your problems temporarily disappear. You were one of Professor Keating's students and you and Michaela are constantly trying to one up one another. But competing over something as vigorous as one of the best lawyers in Philly.

Your eyes was starting to twitch and that was definitely not a good sign. Because once your eye starts to twitch, the twitching spreads to my muscles. You walk into the bar and instantly become overwhelmed with the scents of grilled chicken, toasted bread and potato skins.

You were more concerned about the booze but your growling stomach tells your otherwise. You sit at the bar and order an chicken avacodo ranch sandwich. While you wait, you down a few tequila shots. "You know, they say it's not a great idea to drink shots on an empty stomach," a familiar voice chimes.

You look over your shoulder to Teagan Price leaning on the bar with a small smirk on her lips. "Ms. Price, hi, what brings you here?" "Probably the same reason why you're here. To temporarily forget my problems," she says before drinking one of your shots.

"To temporarily forgetting our problems," you say, raising a shot glass. She takes one and collides it with your before you both drink your shots. You lips twist because of the sour, burning taste. "Awe, are you a babe in the drinking game?" She taunts. "I am a babe but not in this game. I'm more of a wine cooler kind of girl," you explain.

"Then why the shots?" You sigh deeply before saying, "Desperate times." Your food finally arrives and the first thing that you go for are the fries. Its always been a routine of yours. Fries first, burger later. You see Teagen reach for one of your fries, and you hold her and presses if against the table.

"There are many things that I can let slide, but stealing fries is not one of them," you taunt. She raises an eye brow at you and you let go of her hand. You try to shake the excited feeling you got from touching her. No, Y/N, she's you're boss's boss. Don't even go there.

While you were lost in your thoughts, she took not one, not two, but four fries. Your mouth falls open in disbelief. She closes your mouth with her forefinger, giving you a chance to inhale her sweet, linger scent of cherries. "I always get what I want, Y/L/N," she says, holding eye contact.

My God, the way your name rolls off her tongue makes the heat flush from your cheeks. "Well so do I," you say before eating a few fries. "So I've heard. You've become a real headache for Michaela," "She's has endless tricks up her sleeve," you say, your eye starting to twitch again.

"That's because she has Annalise whispering into her ear. The fact that you can stand on your own without a mentor is impressive," she explains. A small plays on your lips. "Ah, ah, ah, don't get all cocky on me." "I know when to humble myself and when to strut myself out,"

"Do you now?" "Of course." She steals another fry and you scoot your tray away from her. "Teagen, you are treading on thin ice," you state. "All I'm hearing is all bark and no bite," "Oh I'm sure you've seen plenty of my bites and my barks against Michaela."

"Eh, they're mediocre," she shrugs. "Then mentor me," "What? Uh uh, I've already got enough on my plate between Emmett, the firm, Annalise, and her students." "Wow, seems like you have a lot more problems than I do. Just the thought of midterms make me want to jump off a bridge,"

"Ah, the good old days," "Definitely not good, and surely not old. You are literal embodiment of black don't crack," you compliment. She chuckles and your heart skips a beat when you see her perfect, white smile. You have to get out of there before you do anything you'll regret.

"It seems like you need to take the edge off." Oops, too late. "Why do you think I'm here?" she playfully snaps. "That's not what I meant." You two hold eye contact for a moment and had a small, silent conversation. "After your sandwich,"

**

You enter her apartment and look around at the beige, classy theme Teagen has going around. "You like?" "I don't expect anything less from you. I'm surprised you don't have a nude picture for yourself." "That's in my bedroom, where you should be." "Oh so that's how it's going to be?"

"I thought you expected nothing less?" "I'm just saying, it'll be hard to effectively diffuse if you're on top," "I'm not a pillow princess," she says, crossing her arms but you can tell that she was contemplating it. "You are tonight,"

You lift her chin to bring your lips to hers. You pull her closer by her hips and trail your hands up towards the zipper of her dress. You unzipped her dress and she shimmed out of it before reconnecting her lips to yours. You walk her against the counter top and ghosted your hands over the curve of her ass.

You pull away from her lips and began kissing and sucking at her neck. Her soft moans made your pussy throbs but you had to take your time with her. You peppered kiss down her breasts and her stomach. You ghost over her clothed bundle of nerves and heard her whimper.

You smirk against her thighs and drag her underwear down her legs to reveal a beautiful, brown tinted pussy. She gasps when you pull her closer by the back of her thighs. You lick her painfully slow and her legs were already starting to tense.

You roll your tongue into her fold and make sure to hit her clit every time. Her hands found her way to your hair and pushed you closer to her. You plunge your tongue deep into her and drag the tip of your tongue against the top of her wall. You kept this motion going and sucked at her nub.

"Please, Y/N, oh God," she moans. "Patience baby," you say before going in and out of her pussy with your tongue. Her legs were beginning to give out but you didn't stop until her walls walls were convulsing around your tongue. You swallowed and licked every drop of her cum.

"You did amazing." You say before kissing her sensually. She pulls you closer by your belt before unbuckling it and you shove it down your legs. You pull away from her lips to take off your shirt. You push her back into the counter and lift her into your arms so her legs were wrapped around your waist.

You knew you were able to do that because you did a lot of power lifting over the summer. She tugs at your hair and you moan into her mouth. "Where's your bedroom?" "Up the stairs and to the left." She works on your neck as you walk up the stairs with her in your arms.

You chuckle when she nibbles at your ear lobe and when you found out she was right. There was a nude painting of her that sat right above her king sized bed. You pushed her on to the bed and licked up her stomach. "Toys," you say before kissing her. She pulled away from me and turned on her stomach to reach for the drawer.

You admire the view while it lasted and she set a drawer full of vibrators, dildos and strap ons on the bed. As soon as she fully turned around, you plunged two fingers into her and her head went back. Her mouth fell open as you curled your fingers before pumping them out of her. "I'm impressed you have so many toys, baby girl,"

"Oh," she moans. Your fingers went deeper and you rub your nose across her nub, making her entire body jolt forward. You teasingly lick the nub and she yells out in bliss. You look up at her and saw her eyes snapped shut. She was close.

You squeezed her ass and pulled her closer as you absolutely devoured her. She was crying out a lot louder this time. Her legs were kicking and spasming under me until she came. You hum before taking off your underwear and reaching into the drawer for a dildo.

You wrap the belts around your hips and thighs. She positions herself in the middle of the bed and spreads her legs for me. "Such a good girl." You line the dildo up with her and slowly push yourself into her. She digs her nails into your back, arching it slightly. Her mouth flies open so you more your hips at a slow pace to start.

She unclips my bra and takes one of your boobs into her mouth. Your back arches again and she yells out. "Move faster, damn it!" You stop, making her whimper out. You reach back into the drawer and grabbed a vibrator.

"Fuck," she says. You rail into her as fast as your hips can take and put the vibrator on the highest setting before applying it to her clit. She pulls away from me and spreads herself out like a starfish. She was practically screaming in my ear, begging for more until her body went rigid.

You slowly pull out of her and she lays there motionless. "You okay?" You ask, brushing her baby hairs from her forehead. "You're really good," she chuckles and eyes were barely staying open. "Why thank you," you tease. "A-alright, it's your turn," "Oh, I know, honey."

You take off the dildo and set it to the side. You take out another dildo and gave it to her. "Put this on." She complied and you slide yourself right onto the dildo. Your eyes flutter close at it fills you up completely. Your body curls when she takes your nipples into her hand and rubs them with the pads of her thumb.

A series of soft moans leaves your lips as you bounce on the dildo. She takes one of your breasts into her mouth and uses her free hand to rub your clit. "Fuck!" Your hands grab the headboard for dear life. You thrusts your hips against her fingers but you completely loose it when she curls her tongue around nipple.

"Damn it, that feels good!" You exclaim. Soon after, your orgasm came. You continued to thrust against the dildo and she went from one breast to the next. Your head fell into her neck until you heard a vibration. "Now you'll know how I felt." She put it on its highest setting and you were screaming at the top of your lungs.

**

Morning of, you were the first one up and you felt great. You could only imagine how she feels. You went on for hours until both of your bodies gave out. You looks at her with a small smile and kisses down her neck warmly. She moans and leans into your touch.

*I'll make breakfast, you are pancake or waffle kind of girl," "I'm niether" "What? You don't like pancakes or waffles?" "Look, Y/N, I don't-" "Let me stop you right there. I know exactly what you're going to say. And just know that I understand," You explain.

She turns around to face you and you hold the side of her face. "I'm just glad that you got the chance to get your mind off of things. I'll see my way out," you stand from the bed and picked up your clothes. You were halfway down the stairs until Teagen called after you.

"Y/N, wait," "You don't need to feel bad, Teagen." "I don't, I just wanted to ask if you wanted to go to dinner?" "You don't have to do that," "Believe me, I want to. Because that was some of that best sex I've ever had," she adds, making you two laugh.

She meets you at the middle of the stairs and adds, "Now about breakfast." Her eyes fall downwards and you smiled, knowing exactly where this was going.

[shinsorokiri]

UA Idol | Chapter Sixteen

Hitoshi Shinsou x Reader

Word Count: 2,290

Warnings: Language, hangover, mentions of throwing up, SO VERY SOFT

A/N: First chapter I will be posting today!! I’m expecting to post chapter seventeen in like seven hours because I want to make that one extra long like maybe 4,000 or so words (but no promises, Imma try though). There’s a lot that happened in this chapter, and I’m really happy I decided to rewrite it because holy SHIT I like this one better. I hope you enjoy it!!! Expect another chapter tonight! Thank you everyone for your support as well, it makes me so happy and I love all of you! 🥺

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You were woken up by the noise of your hotel door being slammed open and Denki yelling, “NO FUCKING WAY!” at the top of his lungs. You grumble, your head already hurt enough you didn’t need him making it worse. Besides being woken up like that is not a fun time. You wanted to stay in this oddly warm hotel bed longer. These blankets really made you feel like you were asleep with someone. Someone who smelled a lot like Shinsou. Huh, weird, why is that – OH MY GOD.

You both make eye contact at the same time, your faces both instantly getting red and your eyes wide. Before you can ask him what the hell happened, a look of panic flashes across his face before he genuinely sprints to the bathroom, the alcohol he ingested finding its way out of his body. You groan, the sound is making you feel a little nauseous, but you can hold in there. You just have a killer headache. “Woah, I’ve never seen him this hungover before,” Denki says to himself, slowly closing the door to give Shinsou some privacy while he faces the consequences of his actions. You groan, turning to look at Denki. He’s also hungover, and he definitely ran here after just leaping out of bed. “What do you want.”

You’re being blunt. You’re not in the mood. You just wanted to sleep, your head hurt, and your bed was cold now. “You, (Y/f/n) and Hitoshi Shinsou slept in the same bed together!” he exclaims, and, finally, Mina stirs. How she is such a heavy sleeper is beyond you. “Yeah. We were drunk, he probably just like, passed out or something,” you mumble, pulling the covers over your head when Mina clinks the bedside lamp on. Light hurt you. “Denki? When did you get here?” Mina asks, very confused and you groan. “He literally ran in here and screamed how the hell did you not hear him?”

“Because I was asleep.”

“Oh, my god.” You hear the bathroom door open, and then Denki says, “Oh, good to know you’re still alive.” Shinsou just grunts in response, sitting on the edge of your bed. “I should probably go back to our room. I feel like shit,” he mumbles, leaning over to rest his head in hihs hands. “No, actually, you just stay here. Mina and I made plans last night over text to go buy some designer clothes and clear out our bank accounts because we are young, dumb, and like designer clothes,” Denki says, and Mina, albeit also hungover, understands immediately that Denki is trying as hard as he possibly can to ensure that the two of you stay in the same room. Shinsou sighs. “Whatever. I can’t just stay in Mina and (Y/n)’s room, I’ll just–”

“Of course, you can!” Mina jumps in, popping out of bed and grabbing some clothes from her suitcase. Even though the chances were she and Denki would go to his room and recover before actually going shopping, she had to A) make it convincing that they were leaving and B) grab clothes for when they actually went. “You can take my bed! Or, you could just stay in bed with (Y/n). I mean, her bed is closer to the bathroom so you’d probably wanna stay there,” she suggests, and he grumbles. Before he can protest again, he feels your knee lightly hit his back. He pauses for a moment, but Mina and Denki take the pause as him agreeing. “Okay, cool! Great! We’ll see you two when y’all aren’t zombies! The medicine is in the bathroom, you should both take it!” With that, Denki and Mina rush out of the door and Shinsou sighs. He stands, wandering over to Mina’s bed before he’s stopped by your voice. “Shin, just stay in this bed. Like Mina said, it’s closer to the bathroom. And we shared it last night, it’s not a big deal.”

Oh, if only you knew what that just did to his heart. He absolutely doesn’t say no to you, and crawls under the covers immediately. He buries his head into the pillow as he feels you shift around to turn the lamp Mina turned on off. “No more light.”

“Thank fucking god,” he says, and you let out a small snort. “I’m sorry, I didn’t force you to take medicine last night apparently,” you mumble, and he sighs. “I must have forced you. You seem to be doing better than me.”

“Only by like 5%. Maybe. I’ll go grab the medicine and get us some water, that’s supposed to help,” you say, slowly getting out of bed. Unfortunately, the medicine he gave you didn’t work as well as you’d hoped. As soon as you stood up, you were immediately nauseous. Now it was your turn to sprint to the bathroom. Shinsou, being the gentleman he is, rushed in after you, instantly beginning to rub your back and make sure you were okay as you threw up. As much as his body wanted to also do what you were doing, somehow his care and worry for you cancelled it out. As long as he focused completely on you, everything would be okay. After you were done, he filled a cup of water, handing it to you to drink. “Maybe we should wait to take the medicine so we know it will actually stay down,” he suggests, sitting on the bathroom floor next to you. You nod. “I want to go back to bed, but I do not want to move from this spot,” you sigh, resting your head on the toilet seat. He stands, fighting off the nausea, and goes and grabs the blankets the two of you were bundled in last night. He brings them back, plopping down next to you and wrapping them around both of you. You find yourself melting into him, seeking out the warmth his body radiates as well as the comfort he never fails to give you. He wraps his arm around your body, humming as he pulls you against the wall so you’re both propped up in a more comfortable position. “Thank you,” you whisper, and he shrugs. “Anything for you,” he mumbles, quiet enough so only he could hear what he actually said. You just heard some type of grumble.

Before you know it, you both doze off in that position, only waking up every so often to face the downside of too much alcohol. You were both woken up at seven in the morning. It’s now nearing eleven in the morning. Luckily, the both of you were feeling a bit better. You both took medicine, thoroughly rinsed your mouths with mouthwash and water, and ventured back to your bed, but still kept the lights off. You laid down and found yourself gravitating toward Shinsou again. He complied almost instantly, opening his arms as soon as he felt like he was in a comfortable enough position to doze off while still having you in his arms.

He knows this is strange. He knows that two friends shouldn’t be holding each other after a night of drinking. But it’s you. Even if the two of you are just friends, he would do literally anything for you. He just didn’t want to admit it. Sadly, though, you’ve caught on to it just as well as he has. “What are we doing?” he hears you mumble, and he shrugs. “Seeking comfort in a desperate time?” he suggests, and you feel yourself smile. But, no. As much as that could be an answer, that wasn’t why the two of you were so attached to each other. “Seriously, Shinsou. What’s going on with this?”

He pauses. How does he answer. He can’t come out and tell you how he really feels, can he? I mean, yeah, he likes you. He’s known for a while. But he knows how much you hate relationships. He knows your last boyfriend hurt you, of course he doesn’t know exactly how but knowing that you were hurt is enough. And listening to your songs, he can piece together just how bad of a person this guy was.

And yeah, you like him. A lot. But you couldn’t deal with another heartbreak. You really couldn’t, truly you think you’d rather die. But every time you tried to stop thinking about him, he flooded your thoughts again. And every time you talked yourself out of wanting him, the next moment you talked to him you wanted him all over again. The connection the two of you had was a weird one. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find everything about him attractive. “I… I really don’t know. I just… can’t get enough of you,” he answers, quietly, but truthfully. You shift around so you can look at him. He bites his lip, and you purse yours. “Can’t get enough of me, huh?” you tease, and he smiles softly. “I don’t want to ruin what we have,” he really doesn’t. But truthfully, he should face the rejection now and move on with his life later than fall even more for you, “but I have to say, (Y/n). I’ve never met someone quite like you. I mean, your talent, your personality, your… everything. It’s… very addicting and honestly, I just can’t get enough of you. Even right now. There are some things I would love to do with you right now,” he says, his eyes darting to your lips. He wonders what it would be like to kiss you. Of course, this isn’t the first time he’s wondered. He has actually wondered quite a lot. Funny, he tried to push all those thoughts away but right now, he knows he can’t do that anymore.

“Hmmm,” you make a noise, your face contorting into your thinking face. He knows that face pretty well now. He sees it a lot. When you’re writing lyrics, when Mina asks a question, when you’re trying to figure out what chord progression to use in this new song you wrote, a bunch of different situations. And even though he thinks it’s adorable, his heart is beating way too fast with anxiety. He doesn’t expect you to want him back, he just hopes your friendship isn’t fucked. You’re quite literally, one of the best things that has ever happened to him. “Well, this is a predicament,” you mumble, and he raises an eyebrow. “Huh?” He’s confused. What do you mean by–

“I’m supposed to be the resident relationship hater and here I am, liking someone. A lot. This is a predicament. But it’s a predicament I am willing to live with.” He stares at you for a moment. Did you just… confess back…? “You mean…?”

“We can… have something between us. Under two conditions.”

“What conditions?” He’s way too eager to have whatever this is between you two continue, and he knows it. But he can’t help it. The things you do to him just aren’t fair. “We don’t put a label on it or tell anyone, no one else needs to know, especially Mina and Denki because then we wouldn’t hear the end of it.”

“Agreed.”

“And… no falling in love with each other. Okay? Just… a strong attraction towards each other, yeah?”

No falling in love. He should have seen that one coming. That will be… difficult, to say the least. But he understands where you’re coming from. He doesn’t want to fall in love either. That means another person to worry about, and call him selfish, but he really just… couldn’t handle that. He already had to worry about his mom every day. Adding you to that would be unfair to all parties involved. He nods. “Yeah.”

“Okay. Okay, cool.”

“Yep.”

“Sweet.”

“Question.”

“Answer?”

“Can I kiss you. Right now. Please?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

And with that, he leans down, finally pressing his lips against yours. He’s kissed a few people in his day, and he’s good at it, but he’s never felt the feeling he got from a kiss quite like the feeling he got kissing you. He swore his hear was about to beat out of his chest, but so was yours. You were feeling the exact same way he was. Something about him was just… intoxicating and this kiss? Well, you imagine that this is what a first high would feel like. You’re going to want so many more afterwards. When you both pull away, you just stare at each other for a moment, before he breaks into a grin, and kisses your nose. “You look cute after I kiss you,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “And suddenly, noise is making my head hurt even worse,” you say, causing him to snort. “Hmmm, then how about you make me shut up?” he says, and you smirk. “Gladly.”

Thank GOD Mina and Denki were nowhere near you two. They would never let either of you live down what’s happening. Being quiet with this wouldn’t be that hard, in fact, a lot of it was going to be fairly easy. The two of you were already quite touchy feely with each other, so what exactly is going to change? Shinsou doesn’t seem to be the type to be big on PDA from what you know about him, so it’s not like he’s just randomly going to pull you in for a kiss. Besides, even if he did, you two don’t have a label. Just friends with… benefits. But maybe not the sexual part of that. Though you wouldn’t mind if that part was included. You fell asleep in his arms again. This was something you were getting used to, and he was, too.

[third-rail-vip]

Complicated

Summary:

It’d be killing two birds with one stone, she’d said. MacCready glared at the crinkled, blackened leaves of the fern sticking out of his duster pocket. His duster, which like the rest of him, was currently chest deep in stinking marsh water, facing a cluster of ferals.

--

Ivy and MacCready's trip to take on the Gunners is stopped in its tracks by a poor judged detour. Mac gets hurt, but he's never been very good at being cared for.

Rating:  Mature

Word Count: 5625  [AO3 link]   [Then I Met You - Series Link]

Mud-clouded, irradiated marsh water burned into his nose, filled his throat, and tried to force its way into his lungs.  

And as if drowning wasn’t bad enough, a close second in the ranking of bad-to-worse was the gouging pain of claw-like nails burying themselves deep into his back, forcing him under water as they tried to tear chunks out of him.  

A dull thought overtook him as the last of the breath left his lungs; he was going to die here.

--x--

The chill of cold water was replaced by a brief but biting gust of wind as a door clicked shut.  MacCready stirred, floorboards shifted as he flexed his back and shoulders, which turned out to be the worst idea he could have possibly had - pain radiated from his left shoulder like fracturing glass.

He hissed through his teeth, taking a sharp breath in and sending a fresh wave across his body, briefly reigniting the burning sensation in his lungs.  Waking up from a nightmare was supposed to be a relief, not just another chapter of discomfort.  

MacCready kept his eyes scrunched closed.  There was light beyond the barrier of his eyelids, low but warm.  If it hadn’t been for the dull headache starting to tap away between his eyes like water torture, it might even have been welcoming.  

“Shhh, shh, shh,” a voice murmured close by.  “You’re okay.”

First things first, when you woke up somewhere strange, it was always best to keep your eyes shut.  There was a lot you could learn when people didn’t know you were awake.  Things that could keep you alive if you weren’t somewhere safe.  

He took a breath in through his nose; the cold December breeze cut through the old damp scent of the room, it carried with it the smell of vegetables (tatos probably) and manure – he grimaced, trying to hide the expression of regret at his deep inhale.  So, it was a farm.  He listened carefully, the lows of brahmin and the quiet chatter of voices confirmed enough for him – the only danger he faced here was boredom.  

As his apprehension dwindled further, he realised it was Ivy’s voice offering the soft reassurances – of course it was – and he could only assume it was her who’d just gently brushed his hair back from his sweat-damp forehead.  The tender motion would be enough to lull him back to sleep if he let it, but he wasn’t ready to be drowning in his mind again, or to watch Lucy pulled to pieces, or to be yelling for his missing partner.  No, it was time to wake up.  

His vision was blurry when he eventually peeked his eyes open, the dull glow of an oil lantern was the only thing beating back the shadows of early evening.  It’s illumination barely reached the wooden slatted ceiling he found himself staring up at.  

He was laid on a mouldy old sleeping bag in a small room with broken windows, but that didn’t exactly narrow down locations when it came to the Commonwealth.  Glancing out the window, the faint remnants of orange warming the darkness on the horizon told him the sun hadn’t long set.  

Sat next to him, lantern light shafting through her hair and casting her face in shadow, was his partner.  He smiled to himself at the halo effect doing its best to make her look like an angel – if angels sat there drinking Nuka-Cherry with a cute little crinkle on their nose from their patented ‘worry frown’.  

Quick check for his other essentials; his sniper rifle was propped up in the corner by the lamp, which sat on the same small table as his hat.  He reached up and patted his top pocket and felt the reassuring bulk of the toy soldier.  Everything was where it should be.  

“So, did I die or is this just my guardian angel coming to pay me a visit?” he croaked, with a throat drier than wasteland dirt.  

“Hey you.”  Ivy swiped the heel of her palm across her eye, before pushing a smile onto her lips and turning to look at him.  “You had me worried there.”

Crap.  He really did.  That light tone didn’t hold any weight with him, he could hear the waver in her voice, see the tension in her smile.  She’d hired him to make sure this kind of thing didn’t happen, but all it took was ferals and he was failing people all over again.  

Now the light shone on her properly, the scratches on her face (earned in a fight he was nowhere near to help her with) put his heart into a vice-like grip.  

They didn’t look as bad as before, there wasn’t blood all over her face anymore, for one thing.  In fact, her hair was damp but back to it’s usual creamy white – no more essence of marsh water – and her rolled down vault suit showed she’d swapped into a clean tank top.  

Come to think of it, when they’d arrived at Oberland Station it had only just been getting dark.  Yes, he remembered where they were now - a cluster of shacks and a signal box huddled by the railroad tracks and surrounded by tato plants.  He also remembered the welcoming committee, armed with pipe pistols and a whole heap of mistrust.  

The pair of them had been caught off guard on the tracks, Ivy still in his arms – the vice tightened another twist.  They were soaked, bleeding and, unless the settlers expected him to hurl his injured partner at them, they were unarmed.

He’d been about to give them the biggest f-ing piece of his mind, when the world that had started to spin around him, decided to turn out the lights.  

“How long—”

“You’ve been out for a couple of hours.”  Ivy hugged her knees to her chest and nodded to the IV he hadn’t even noticed in his arm.  “You’re on your second bag.”

A bag of Radaway was hung up using the bedstead as a makeshift drip-stand.  It had almost run through.  On the ground nearby was another spent bag and an empty blood pack.  

Shit.  Well that would explain the headache, the dizziness and the nausea, not the mention the fever.  There were only two things in the wasteland that’d do that to you;  a whole heck of a lot of rads, or a couple of sips of Vadim’s moonshine.  

“They let us stay, huh?”  He hoped his smile could pass for something warmer than a grimace.  “I wouldn’t have guessed from that reception.”

Ivy sighed and raised an eyebrow at his salty remark.

“Well, you passing out and dropping me like a sack of potatoes… tatos?  Is there an equivalent?”  She frowned for a second, adjusting the grip on her knees and shifting her weight to the other hip.  “Anyway, I think it helped our case.”

Mac smiled.  He liked her tangents, when her old world and his new one got jumbled up in her head and knocked her train of thought off the tracks.  Her mental meanders had tested his patience back when they first met, but now he found it soothing to watch her puzzle things out.

Ivy leant forward and pressed the back of her hand against his forehead.  Her fingers were cool – a welcome relief he hadn’t realised he needed until they soothed some of the heat in his skin.    

“Your temperature’s coming back down, at least.”  The last of the Radaway had run its course, so she slipped the drip from his arm.  “How are you feeling?”

MacCready sat up – big mistake.  The room spun violently around him, dragging a sickening groan from his lips.  If Ivy hadn’t been there to grab his arms and steady him, he’d have slumped back down onto the sleeping bag.  

Fat lot of good he was doing anyone in this state!  Those goddamn ferals.  He wanted to scream.  Or shoot something.  Or have a cigarette.  Where were his damn cigarettes?  

But he needed to keep his shit together.

“I feel like a herd of brahmin stomped on my head,” he griped, hoping he could at least manage to make her laugh.  “What do you think, doc?  Am I going to make it?”

She wasn’t even looking at him - wide-eyed, she was staring at his shoulder.  Ever so slowly, she reached out and peeled the sleeping bag away from where blood had soaked it to his shoulder.  He couldn’t hold in the pained cry when she did it.  

--x--

It’d be killing two birds with one stone, she’d said.  MacCready glared at the crinkled, blackened leaves of the fern sticking out of his duster pocket.  His duster, which like the rest of him, was currently chest deep in stinking marsh water, facing a cluster of ferals.

He lined up another shot, taking two down with one bullet – a very nicely placed double headshot.  Ordinarily he’d be singing his own praises, but this whole mess had the potential to go bad real fast.  One tackle from a feral and he’d lost the upper ground, got separated from his partner and cut off from any hope of an easy retreat.  

Once-upon-a-time, taking out ferals had been child’s play.  Literally.  He’d been at it since he was 10.  He’d perfected the art of anticipating their shambling, diving movements.  Could line up a shot with barely a glance, the same way he took down raiders and greenskins these days – it came as naturally to him as a heartbeat.  

It was no boast when he claimed to be the ‘best shot in the Commonwealth’.  If you asked MacCready, he was a modern-day Robin-fucking-Hood – except the beggared of the commonwealth could keep their mitts off his caps.

That had all changed four years ago, at least with the ferals it had.  Now he had to focus – there was no winging this shit.  He had to tell his hands to stop shaking, to count his breaths so he even remembered to take them.  Every time those things showed up he had to ride the line between fear and rage - which might have been useful if he was wielding a baseball bat, but it was no damn good for a sniper.  

His finger was slick on the trigger, and as much as he wished he could just blame it on the water, his palms were sweating.  He bungled his second shot, it only winged the racing creature.  

This was goddamn nightmare fuel.

The third shot came from the walkway above him.

“I could have got it,” he snapped, more harshly than he meant to, but this shit had got him on edge.  

“I know.”  Ivy didn’t even bicker back at him.  

She was scared.  And alone.

But he’d thank anything that’d listen that she had a good eye - he admired the clean shot between the eyes of the feral before it sank beneath the water - and that her aim was getting better every day.  The trouble would come if she got overwhelmed and he couldn’t get to her.

Hell of a lot of good he was doing down here.  

The pair had taken on ferals before, but not in this number and he’d not left her side the whole time.  This was different.  There were so many - more rising up out of the water or scuttling across the rooftops at every turn.  They were closer to the Glowing Sea here, but this was ridiculous.  It was like someone had set up a feral summer camp and the damn things had waited for them to get right into the centre of town before attacking.

With barely a thought, he took down another feral as it rounded the corner ahead.  It was easier if he just went on instinct, less time for thoughts of consequences - and the memories of old ones - to creep in.  

MacCready patted his top pocket.  Good, it was still there.  

“I hate getting wet,” he moaned.

“I know.”  Came the reply (after a few more gunshots), this time from a few roofs down, further back into the heart of the sunken village.

MacCready made to move forward in an attempt to keep pace with her, his feet dragging through deep silt.  He’d barely made it a few yards before something heavy fell with a loud splash right behind him.  He definitely didn’t have time to turn around before it was on him – teeth, nails, sheer weight dragging him down under the water.  

--x--

“I’m so sorry.”  Ivy’s voice was so small, her eyes were swimming when she looked at him.  “I really fucked up.”

MacCready frowned, confused.  It wasn’t her fault he’d bled all over the damn sleeping bag.  The settlers would just have to get over it.

“I took us to that awful place and you got hurt,” her voice was growing more and more frantic until it finally cracked and tears spilled down her face.  “When they dragged you under—”

Oh, Ives.  Did she really think this was all her fault?

He leaned forward and caught the back of her neck, gently tugging her forwards until their foreheads touched.  A startled gasp mingled with a sob when he did, her red-rimmed brown eyes looking straight into his brilliant blue gaze.  

“Don’t you dare blame yourself for this,” he murmured.  “Yeah, sh—stuff went wrong, but we made a heck of a team out there.”  

“Mac, I thought I got you killed…”

This close together, with their gazes locked, even in that dark little room, he could see the scratch the knife had made down her eye.  She must have come damn close to losing it.  What kind of animal could do that to a sweetheart like her.  He felt his temper bubbling up, but given it was 200 years too damn late, it was about as redundant as he’d been today.  

“I’m a Capital Wasteland radroach,” he smiled, bumping the tip of his nose against hers.  “It’ll take more than a few ferals to kill me.”

The words tasted like bile in the back of his throat, knowing they might well be true, but the same didn’t extend to the people he loved.  But then, they weren’t for his benefit, and the intended recipient had almost laughed, which was definitely something.

“I am sorry tho—”

“Ah, ah.  You saved my ass, angel.  I’d be feral food if it wasn’t for you.”  

It was true.  It had been terrifyingly close.  

Ivy bumped her nose against his before pulling away, shifting back into her spot against the wall, leaving him with an odd sensation in the pit of his stomach.  Her tears had dried up, and she wiped away the remaining trickles from her cheeks with the heel of her palm.  

MacCready dug in his pants’ pocket for his cigarettes, pulling one out only to watch it flop and snap.  He hated water.  

His partner giggled when he looked across at her, a pathetic sight with his packet of ruined cigarettes.  Then she laughed, really laughed.  The tension from moments before finding its way out in nervous energy.

Ivy laughing - really laughing - was a joy.  

First, she’d fight to hold it in, but you’d see it building in her eyes.  Then the corners of her mouth would twitch, her lips desperately wanting to break open into a grin, so she’d catch it behind a hand - both if it was especially bad - like, if he couldn’t see the smile, he hadn’t won the game of making her laugh.  Tears like diamonds flecked with mascara would form in the corners of her eyes and trickle down her cheeks.

He'd happily sit there with half a cigarette hanging off his bottom lip if he got to watch that sight.

Once her giggles had faded, she filled a cup with purified water for him.  It’d be more soothing for his throat than a cigarette anyway, just not for his nerves.  Regardless, he downed the water in one and held his cup back out for a refill, big blue eyes pleading the same way dogmeat did anytime they were cooking something tasty.  Ivy obliged.

“How about I take a look at that shoulder now?”

Whether he’d like her to or not, she was already digging in her pack for antiseptic and filling a small basin with more purified water.    

--x--

Removing MacCready’s coat and shirt turned out to be more of a challenge than they’d anticipated.  The fabric of both were either caught in the wound or dried to his skin, and the attempted removal of them left him chewing on the back of his hand.

The pair of them sat hip-to-hip, the small of Ivy’s back resting against his knee as she focussed on her work.  Outside he could Diamond City Radio playing quietly from somewhere in the settlement.  It showed how hard his partner was concentrating that she wasn’t even humming along.  He let the strains of Billie Holliday wash over him and tried to think about anything other than the pain in his shoulder.

“Mac?”

Ivy cast a quick glance MacCready’s way between strokes of the damp cloth she was using to stop the dried blood clinging to the fabric.  

“Hmm?” He tried to sound casual, like he hadn’t just been counting the freckles on the bridge of her nose.  23.

“What does RJ stand for?”  She treated him to the little hopeful smile she usually reserved for shopkeepers and potential employers.  

“Where did that come from?”

“I just wondered.”  And you thought it’d distract me from thinking about my shoulder trying to pull itself apart.  “I can’t believe I’ve never gotten around to asking before.”

“Oh, you have.”  

He grinned at the confusion dawning into a half-memory on her face.  He’d been just sober enough to remember the second agreement they made on Halloween night, when they first met in Goodneighbor – one shot per question.  

It’s no wonder she couldn’t remember though.  Most of his memories, other than a few of her more outlandish questions, revolved around those big, bright, buzzed eyes.  

They’d been sprawled on opposite sofas in The Third Rail, half a bottle of whiskey – which she obviously couldn’t handle – down and she’d just asked him (as one of the 20 questions he’d limited her to) what the meaning of life was.  He’d told her to shut up and drink.  Then she’d tried for his name with so much mischief in those eyes and a smirk on her lips that he’d never quite been able to take his eyes off since.

“And I’ll tell you now, what I told you then.  No way.  I’m not telling you.  You’ll only use it to tell me off.”

He hissed indignantly at the cold hand she purposefully rested on his chest when she paused to give him an appraising look.  

“That’s fair,” she eventually conceded - most likely when her hand had reached the temperature a human body should be - setting back to work, only to pause again a second later.

“Of course...” she smirked at the new idea that had presented itself to her, leaning across conspiratorially to whisper in his ear. “You might have to make a choice between that, and me making up names for you.”

“I’ll take my chances,” he replied without hesitation.

“That’s your prerogative, Rodney.”

He glared at her.

--x--

It took a couple more minutes to work the material free of the wound – and a couple more minutes of enduring every name beginning with ‘R’ that Ivy could think of – but now the damage was plain to see.  

Or at least he could guess it was from the sudden lack of teasing and the expression of horror on Ivy’s face. The colour that he’d tried so hard to get back into those cheeks had drained again, and the guilt he could see in her eyes, when she flicked them to his face then back to his shoulder, was like a mirror to his own.  

If the deep red stains that had soaked into his once white tank and across his shoulder were anything to go by, those ferals had made a goddamn mess of him.  

“I—this might take a little while.  I’m going to need to clear out the…debris…and clean the scratches before I can even think about getting a Stimpak in there.”  She chewed on her bottom lip.  “These deeper ones… RJ, they’re going to hurt.”

“I’m a big boy, angel.  I can take it.”  

Debris.  He knew exactly what that meant.  And damn right it was going to hurt.  This wasn’t the first time he’d had to dig broken off feral nails and teeth from his flesh.  At least this time he wasn’t trying to comfort a bawling infant as he did it.  

When she dragged the lamp closer, MacCready knew exactly what else she’d see.  The back of his shoulder and upper arm were littered with old scars.  How long would it take her to spot the similarities between the old marks and the ones she was cleaning?  He wondered whether she’d guess that’s what wrecked his duster in the first place.

He braced himself, waiting for the inevitable pain, trying to ignore the glint of lamplight on the already red-tinted basin of water next to him.  Picking a patch of peeling paint on the skirting board, he stared at it, trying to make himself focus on what colour it might have been two centuries ago.  Would it have been something fun?  Midnight blue, maybe?  Not likely.

A shiver ran up his spine as Ivy smoothed a hand over his shoulder-blade, her thumb tracing the lines of the old wounds with a touch as delicate as a kiss.  She didn’t ask.  She didn’t need to.  One glance between them and she could recognise scars with a history.  If anyone understood the vulnerability that came with them, it was her.  

MacCready had never been much of one for looking after himself when he was hurt.  He was more of a ‘rip the bandaid off’ kind of guy.  Stick a stimpak in it and hope for the best.

Oh, but Ivy, she was as gentle as she could be with him, soft hands working to soothe, stopping with every groan and halted curse – if she could – whispering apologies and reassurances that she wouldn’t take much longer.  

The water beside him grew deeper red with every time she had to wash the blood from her fingertips.  He thought he’d bite clean through his lip when she dug out the last of the debris, it was buried deep and he could hear from trying to keep from retching as she pulled it from deep in the muscle.  

The smell of the antiseptic burned his nostrils.  He was such a mess, he barely even felt the sting of the carefully applied stimpak getting to work on knitting his muscle back together.  Woozily he pressed his fingers to his bleeding lip, rocking forward to put his head between his raised knees until the room stopped spinning.    

“Hey, that was the last one,” Ivy gently rubbed her hand up his spine and across his uninjured shoulder, quietly reassuring him.  “Just got to get you bandaged up and you’ll be good as new.”

“And what about you?” he asked as she began to bandage his shoulder, glancing pointedly at her swollen ankle which was covered in an ever-increasing nebula of purple and black bruises.

“It’s just a sprain, Mac” she shrugged.  “It’ll go down in time.  Let me worry about you.”

--x--

He heard the gunshots, that wasn’t what frightened him.  It was the scream that came after.  The last he’d seen of Ivy she’d been standing up on a pitched roof – stupidly out in the open, but if she hadn’t thrown caution to the wind to get that vantage point, he’d be a dead man.    

Now she was gone.  

There were feral corpses bobbing in the water all around him, even more hanging off the roofs and walkways.  He hadn’t realised how many were on him until he pulled himself back up, fighting for air.  

In seconds his vicious memories were replaced by a new fear.  

Bleeding and dizzy, he began wading through the deserted streets.  He couldn’t see any more movement, not around him and not on the rooftops.  And he couldn’t see her.  The village was as silent as when they arrived.  

“Hey partner, you okay?” he hazarded a shout.  

No answer, just the echo of his voice bouncing back off deserted buildings.  

MacCready started to move faster towards where he’d last seen her, forcing his body through the deep water, causing eddies and ripples to trail out behind him.  He tried to keep calm but his breaths were getting shaky.  

“Hey angel, you good?”  he shouted louder this time.  

Nothing.  

“Ivy?”  

It was more of a croak than a shout.  There was no way anyone could hear it.  He could barely hear it.  But that didn’t stop the nausea rising in the pit of his stomach, or his pulse starting to pound in his ears.  

No, no, no, no, no… not this time.

“Ives!” he yelled at the top of his lungs.  Over and over again, he shouted, his voice mixing with the echoes as he dragged himself up the rusted fire escape onto the rooftop.

“Mac?”  He almost missed it.  Her voice was stifled by coughing, but it was her.  

Scrambling up onto the pitched roof he’d last seen her on, he spotted a hole edged with rotten beams and snapped tiles.  Peering over the edge into the gloom of a dusty attic space, he could see Ivy.  She lay crumpled half on/half under a pile of broken beams with blood smeared across her face.  Her ankle was caught at a weird angle.  The body of a feral lay impaled where it landed just feet away.  

He wasn’t sure he’d ever been so relieved to see a person in his life.  The way she was smiling at him, she looked pretty damn glad to see him too.  

“Did we win?”

Shaky laughter spilled from his lips, “Something like that, angel.”

“You called me Ives.”

She gave him the soft look of a woman who’d probably hit her head on the way down.

--x--

But Mac was the one doing the worrying.  

It had been a long time since he’d been that worried about losing a partner.  What rattled him the most was that when she’d disappeared out of his sight, his panic had nothing to do with suddenly being alone in a feral-infested swamp.  He didn’t even spare a thought for the Gunner base less than a half a mile away.  He’d been too wrapped up in the fear of losing her.

Ivy was giving him that soft look again now, even without the concussion.  Would it be so much to hope that she actually gave a damn about him?  He’d made mistakes in the past, given his trust to people who didn’t deserve, and he’d been burned.  

But maybe she was different, just like he’d told her when he convinced her to help him with this dumbass plan.  

“You really don’t have to do all this for me, angel, but thank you.”  

Without thinking he reached out, brushed that one stubborn curl back behind her ear and cupped her cheek.  It took his thumb brushing her scar for him to realise that he was the biggest dumbass in the commonwealth.  Of all the things he could have done…

He was on the verge of panicking and pulling his hand away, when she pressed her hand over the top of and smiled at him.  He couldn’t have imagined such a different reaction to when she’d been falling apart in front of him in Malden.  

“You should let somebody else take care of you every once in a while.”  

If he thought she’d been looking at him softly before, well this look coaxed all the air from his lungs, and if he remembered to breathe at any point in the future, he’d struggle.  

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.  Usually MacCready was the one who knew how to tease blushes and smiles out of her.  To catch her eye and leave her speechless.  How did one simple gesture have his stomach in knots?  

Holy crap, he did not see this coming.

There was a creak on the wooden stairs outside their room and he wasn’t sure he’d ever resented a noise so much in his life.  Their little bubble had been burst and now he could hear the chatter of settlers outside again, and the damn brahmin still hadn’t shut up – even though he’d been deaf to them just moments before.  He could hear one of those damn crows squawking away in the woods nearby.  Dinner was cooking, and people were laughing, and didn’t they have anything better to do than interrupt them.

Ivy gave his hand a quick squeeze and took it away from her face just as the door creaked open and one of the settlers arrived with a basin of scalding hot water - now he thought about it, after the day they just had, he probably smelled like antiseptic and stagnant marsh water.  Nice.

“I’ll leave you to get washed up.”  There was a flush to Ivy’s cheeks that couldn’t just be put down to warm lighting.  He just smiled at her like an idiot.  

“You need a hand down the stairs?”  their host enquired, giving them both the kind of look that gossip was built on.  

MacCready glared at the woman.  Ivy might be quick to forgive, but he remembered that pipe pistol, and if he started getting shit from caravan guards, he’d know exactly where it had come from.    

“No, thank you, Lynn.  I can manage.”   The woman bustled back out into the night air, but MacCready could hear her taking her time going down the stairs.  Nosy...

Before he could help her, Ivy had dragged herself to her feet, using the doorframe to keep as much weight off her ankle as possible.

“I’ll be outside.”

“What, no bed bath?”  MacCready forced a laugh.  This was the crap they usually joked about, right?  He was sure it wouldn’t have sounded so awkward that morning.  

Ivy shook her head in exasperation, or at least that was probably what she was going for, but the grin and the blush undermined the impression.  

“I was an artist, sweetheart, not a nurse,” she teased.  “So, unless you’re planning on posing for a life drawing, I’m going to go and help with supper.”

A sudden panic hit him as the room emptied.  What if something happened?  What if something happened while she was out there and he couldn’t get to her in time.

The door had barely clicked shut before he called after her, “Angel?”

“Yeah?” she poked her head back in, curious smile in place.   The wave of relief he felt after just a second, well, it was ridiculous.

“Stay close.  Yeah?”

--x--

The previous night had ended up much like that morning had begun - with bickering and a meal.  A big bowl of vegetable stew and a quarrel about how to get back to Diamond City, to be more precise.  Not that they’d gone to sleep on bad terms, if intertwined fingers and shy smiles in the darkness were anything to go by.

MacCready watched the weather suspiciously, the morning was dull and windy, and knowing his luck, they’d probably end up hiking in the rain.  He stood on the tracks with Ivy, all packed up and ready to go, but they were still undecided on the route they should take.  Her ankle was no better than the day before, despite her hobbling on it and trying to convince him that she’d be able to make it the long way on foot.

“I’m telling you, if we go via Cambridge it’s actual roads and I’ll be able to walk.  I might just need a little support,” she challenged him.  Again.

“And I’m telling you, you’re in no fit state to try and get past raiders and muties if they’ve infested that apartment block again,” he snapped back, frustrated.  “If we take the shorter route we can be back in under two hours.”

“And if there are yao guai, Mac?  What then?  I’m definitely going to get eaten, is what.”  She folded her arms across her chest, the very picture of defiance – if it wasn’t for her standing on one leg like a lawn flamingo.  “Where’s the salt?  Because you might as well season me now.”

“Stop being so damn dramatic.”  He rolled his eyes at her indignant look.  “I’d get us there in less time if you’d just let me carry you.”

“And what about your shoulder?”

He chose to ignore that one.  The shoulder in question still ached like a son-of-a…gun.

“I’ll tell you what RJ stands for.”  Looking at her like he’d just upped the ante on a bet she could never refuse.  “But only if we can go the shorter way.”

…got her.

“Really?”

He shook his head and stalked over, picking her up in one fluid movement and–hopefully–managed to hide the sharp pain in his shoulder.  She quickly wrapped an arm around his neck to steady herself and swallowed hard – he couldn’t miss it – composing herself after being caught off guard.  

“Robert.  Joseph.”

She smiled, glancing away at nothing in particular, like she was trying out the feel of his name in her mind.  Then she smiled at him, and it was his turn to steady himself.  There was none of the teasing he’d anticipated, just that gentle warmth that always caught him off guard.  

“Ok, you win.  We can go your way.”

Oh, this was going to get complicated.

[shhh-no-ones-home]

loud mouth colson baker(mgk) x reader

+++++++++ So I had a dream about him and it's all I've been thinking about all day so here ya go, this seems to be a theme lately lol

Song: aint talking bout love by van halen

tag list: @cynic-spirit +++++++++

"Wow you really know how to make a mess don't you."

My friend said, looking around at the room piled with clothes. I picked a shirt up and tossed it at him.

"Shut up, I told you I needed to clean out my closet."

He laughed at me, folding it and putting it in top of my desk.

"You're gonns need some serious help with this."

I began plucking clothing items off my bed and folding them.

"Yeah I know, colson's coming over later and so is Bree."

I watched John pick up another shirt and fold it.

"Lucky me for getting here early."

He joked. I sent him a knowing smile.

"Hey at least Id already started, everything is out of the closet and half of it I'm getting rid of."

I said proudly. He laughed a little at me.

"Okay, please tell me you are losing this one."

He said, hopeful, holding up a very old and worn out mgk shirt. I frowned and snatched it away from him.

"Of course not, colson gave me that the first time I ever went to one of his live shows."

John crossed his arms across his chest at me. Then there was a knock at my bedroom door, drawing our attention to colson standing in the doorway.

"I hope you don't mind I let myself in, the front door was unlocked."

He said with a smile. I dropped the shirt to the bed and went in for a hug.

"Of course not, I told you you can come in any time."

He held me with one hand as he fist bumped John, letting me go a second later.

"So, this looks a little crazy."

He said finally looking around the room. I let out a nervous laugh, going back to my spot at the end of the bed.

"I know it does now but once everything is sorted it'll be a breeze to put away."

He kind of looked at me like I was crazy before stepping over some clothes and making his way to me.

"Okay, where do you want me to start?"

I looked around for a second.

"Um, John's doing shirts, I'm doing this... Wanna start folding and stacking pants?"

I asked, pointing to them. He shrugged.

"Sure."

He walked to the pile and dropped to the ground, sitting with his legs crossed as he began pulling things out.

"So, what did I miss?"

He asked, John sending me a knowing look.

"Not a whole lot."

I said condescendingly, throwing the shirt back at John.

"She won't get rid of this."

He said holding it to his chest and looking down at it. Colson laughed a little bit.

"You still have that? That merch line hasn't been around for years."

He said in wonderment. I put my hands on my hips as he kept folding and stacking.

"You gave that to me, of course I kept it. Do you even remember that night?"

I asked pointedly. He thought for a second before shrugging.

"I don't know y/n I don't remember a lot of shit."

I rolled my eyes as I went back to folding and stacking too.

"It was the first of your live shows you invited me to. When it was over you asked if I was going to that party with you. of course I said I couldnt stay too long but you said I had to anyways. We were at that dude's house till, God, it must been like four in the morning."

We both laughed at the memory. He nodded his head.

"Yeah I remember now, you were so drunk. But that one chic spilled her entire glass of wine down the front of you and it's all I had when we got back to my place."

He laughed, John looking between us with a smirk on his face. I couldn't help but think fondly of that night, even if it did go quite awry.

"Sounds like quite a night."

John mentioned, sending me another knowing look.

"It really was."

Colson stood up and placed the stack of pants on the bed next to the one I was working on.

"If I remember correctly, that was also the first time you had drank yourself into a hangover. Literally."

I cringed.

"Yeah, I was so sick that next day, I was honestly just glad you were there."

I turned to John as he sat.

"I literally couldn't walk, I was violently sick the whole day, and the headache I had was like none I've ever had in my life."

Colson laughed a little bit, nudging my arm with his elbow.

"Lucky for you I'm a great hangover doctor."

°°°°°°°°° I looked to Bree as she handed me another hanger, the guys in the other room deciding on dinner. We had been at this most of the day and I was beginning to wonder who the hell let me do this to myself. There was a mountain of clothes by my door that was all stuff I had planned to get rid of. Part of me felt refreshed but I still had to finish putting away what was left.

"Aw I remember you telling me about this one."

She said picking up the shirt we had talked about earlier. I smiled to myself as I put it on the hanger.

"Ya know we had just finished talking about that night right before you got here."

She pouted.

"So I missed the best story about you two? No fair."

She protested, sulking down into her seat. I laughed a little bit.

"As if you don't know every detail anyway."

She perked back up as she handed me another shirt hanger.

"Well yeah but I still love hearing about it. That's when it all started."

She said winking at me and I waved the shirt in my hand at her.

"That's our secret ma'am."

I said through gritted teeth and she just laughed at me.

"They aren't in here what does it matter."

She said at me.

"You just love a man Willing to take you... Oops I meant take care of you."

My eyes went wide, my mouth dropping as I playfully gasped at her.

"Excuse you! He's just a friend."

I said matter of factly and she raised an unimpressed brow at me.

"Sure he is. It's not like you two don't flirt relentlessly at each other all the time or anything."

I rolled my eyes as I finished hanging the last few things up.

"What about it? Friends flirt with each other all the time."

"Really?"

She said flatly. Then John came in the room, colson hot on his heels.

"Pizza."

Was all he said. Bree and I looked between them.

"Okay?"

I asked and he held the phone out to me.

"Holy shit."

I said taking it from him.

"Do we really need all this food for just the four of us?"

Colson stepped to me and took the phone back.

"Come on y/n, if we're staying the night like you planned you know it's gonna get eaten."

I sighed.

"You buying?"

He grinned widely at me.

"Yes ma'am."

I caved.

"Fine."

"Yes!"

He said giving John a high five and finishing the order. I shook my head.

"You two are ridiculous."

Colson grinned widely at me.

"Yeah, ridiculously hungry."

I laughed.

"You should put that in a song loser."

He handed the phone back to John, him walking back out into the hallway.

"Ooo wait! Are you getting barbeque?!"

Bree yelled, following him quickly. I laughed to myself as I pushed my clothes around in the closet, making sure everything was in its right place. Colson draped his arm over my shoulder, admiring my work.

"I'm proud of us."

He said.

"We got a lot done today."

I nodded against him, bringing my arm around his waist.

"Yes we did, and thanks again, it really means a lot. I definitely needed the help."

I said smiling up at him. He was already staring down at me. I let out a nervous laugh.

"What?"

He grinned widely.

"I wasn't gonna say anything, but Bree is kind of loud..."

My mouth dropped open, taking my hand from his back and covering my face.

"No."

I groaned into my hands as he laughed, wrapping his arms around me and kissing the top of my head.

"Don't be shy baby."

He said, pulling my hands down. I couldn't help the mad blush making its way to my cheeks.

"What did you hear?"

I asked hesitantly, him snaking his arms around my waist.

"You like a man that can take you and take care of you."

He said proudly, a lazy smile playing across his lips. I held my breath and closed my eyes.

"Oh god."

I sighed out. He laughed again, rubbing his finger tips into my lower back.

"Hey, don't feel bad, we've been friends forever. Nothing I can't handle. Besides, I wouldn't flirt back if I wasnt a little interested."

My eyes went wide at his words.

"What are you saying?"

I asked skeptically. He smirked at me.

"Kiss me and find out."

He said lowly. I just stared at him. My brain couldn't comprehend what was happening. Before I knew it he was moving towards me and I couldn't breathe. A second later his lips were on mine and I was kissing him like my life depended on it. He dipped me down, holding me tightly to him. When he pulled away I inhaled sharply, needing as much air as I could get. Or at least that's what it felt like. My lungs burned and my brain was misfiring. He half smiled before pecking me on the lips again.

"God I should've done that ages ago."

He breathed out and I nodded.

"Agreed."

I said, pulling him back down to me and kissing him passionately.

"Yes!"

I heard Bree shout, making me smile against him. When he pulled away we both looked to the doorway, Bree dancing in place as John stood there with his mouth open.

"How long has that been a thing?!"

He said shocked. Bree punched his arm making him flinch away. She ran to us, giving us a collective hug.

"I love you guys."

She said looking between us and I couldn't help but blush again.

"Thanks Bree."

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Who Knows?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Depictions of gore and blood, drunkenness

Summary: When you don't get there in time to save a young couple, the weight of the job starts to take it's toll. Trying to drink to forget that same night in the bunker, you end up drunkenly confessing your big fantasy to Dean.

A/N: Sorry if the formatting is off on this. I posted it on my phone instead of my laptop!

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

Blood. There was so much blood. It was on them, on the floor, on the walls, on your clothes. You thought you'd beat the werewolf there and save that young couple but the second you busted through the door of their apartment, it was too late. The werewolf had its teeth sunk into the pregnant young woman, who flailed on the ground screaming. Her fiancee's lifeless, bloody body lied crumpled on the floor a few feet away. You immediately shot the monster in the head and ran towards the woman to see how badly she injured. 

It was bad. The skin over her chest was ripped open far too badly for you to be able to fix and she'd already lost so much blood, you knew she wouldn't last until the ambulance got there. Regardless, you called 911 but by the time they got there, the woman had died in your arms. 

The drive back was silent. Your jeans and long sleeve shirt had become caked in dark crimson blotches from where her body lied on you. You reached down into your bag that was crumpled by your feet and pulled out a flask, making the stupid decision to chug the hard liquor inside while driving and not even feeling it burn 

By the time you got back to the bunker, you'd already chugged the whole flask and had begun feeling quite tipsy. But that wasn't enough. You wanted to forget, needed to forget. 

Wordless, you entered the bunker and made a beeline for the kitchen. Behind, you heard Sam ask, "How'd it go?" 

You didn't say a word, only stomped into the kitchen but neither of the boys missed the blood stains all over your body. They could tell it wasn't yours and by the way you were acting, they were almost certain of what had happened. 

You hadn't heard Dean come into the kitchen where you were reaching for a glass until he requested, "Hey, grab me one too?" 

With a shrug, you grabbed him one too and then swiftly reached for a random bottle off the liquor shelf. Without even glancing at it, you poured yourself a glass of the mystery brown liquid that was about twice as full as a normal serving and threw it back in just two gulps. You handed Dean the glass and the bottle and he poured his own, glancing at you cautiously as you panted, trying to feel again. 

Once he'd, set the bottle down, you grabbed it and took a swig from the bottle itself and jumped up to sit on the counter. Dean leaned against the metal island staring at the floor and the two of you sat in silence for at least five minutes before he tried to comfort you, "You got there as fast as you could."

"But it wasn't fast enough." You hiccuped, "She died in my arms Dean." 

Dean sighed, "I know, Y/N. But we literally found out about the case today. This is one of the fastest cases we've ever worked. You couldn't have gotten to them sooner. 

You couldn't even take your eyes off the ground. They'd glazed over with tears that you tried to hold in. "Maybe you should take a shower. Get changed. We can ta-"

"Y'know she was pregnant? She begged me to save her and then she begged me to save her baby when she knew she wasn't gonna make it. And then she begged me to stay with her so she wouldn't die alone." Angry tears spilled down your cheeks as you took another huge chug of what you'd discovered was cheap whiskey. 

Dean leaned forward and grabbed the bottle from your hand, "Okay, let's slow down on this." In your drunken state, you started to cough, choking momentarily as droplets of the firey liquid found their way into your lungs. 

"NO!" You yelled, trying to snatch it back but failing drunkenly, "I'm so tired of this Dean! We try so hard but people are still dying all around us! People we try to save, people we love! Your parents are dead! My best friend is dead! Hell, even you've died!" Hiccups interrupted every few words, "Maybe all I want is a normal life with a white fucking picket fence and kids and a dog and a husband that won't get fucking murdered like everyone else we love!" 

Dean came up to you and leaned close, trying to calm you down, his hands resting on your arms, "Hey, Y/N, we save people. You save people. You're right, we've lost a lot of people on the way. But you're the reason so many people are still alive today. You're a hero." 

"Maybe I don't wanna be a hero anymore." You cried, huffing away, before clumsily holding is hands, "Dean, let's run away together. Me and you. We can get married and have that little house with the picket fence and kids and dogs and we won't have to have to keep knives under our pillows at night!" 

Dean let you collapse drunkenly against him, the tears finally slowing. There's no way you meant that. He needed to remind himself not to get his hopes up. You were drunk and emotional and you didn't know what you were saying, right?  

Before he knew it,  you were snoring against his shoulder,  all your weight sliding off the counter and into his grip,  "Oh! Okay, kid, let's get you to bed." He lifted you effortlessly off the counter and carried you to the bathroom. 

***

You woke up in your bed the next morning (if 11:00 am counted as morning) with a pounding headache and quite confused. Unfortunately, you remembered the depressing events of last night until about your fifth shot of whiskey. It was all fuzzy after that. 

With a groan, you rolled out of bed and were immediately confused as to why you were now wearing a large oversized t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts as pajama bottoms instead of the clothes you wore last night. Maybe you got changed before you fell asleep? 

You ungracefully padded your way into the briefing room where Sam and Dean sat with several books open. Dean chuckled, "Ah, there she is!" He announced proudly. 

"How you feeling?" Sam asked apologetically as he watched you smooth down your hair that was sticking up everywhere. 

"What happened?" You asked, plopping down next to Sam. 

Dean shrugged, "Hunt went bad and you came back pretty toasted. Don't drink and drive by the way, idiot. Anyways, you drank even more when you got here but we got you to bed." 

You groaned, shielding your eyes from the bright light, "I didn't do anything embarrassing, did I?" Frankly, you were afraid of the answer. 

Sam shook his head. "Nothing too bad. You told Dean you guys should get married and run away together." 

Your eyes widened, "Oh my God!" You collapsed, hiding your face in your hands.  You prayed that he just thought it was a joke because if he knew you really secretly felt that way about him, everything would change and you were sure if it would be for the good. 

Dean stiffened at the mention of your fantasy you'd described last night and remembered the dream of it he had that night. It was a dream he'd had many times before, a thought that had definitely occurred to him prior to your drunken confession. But he couldn't tell you that because you just said it cause you were drunk. You would've asked Sam to run away with you if he'd been in Dean's place! Right? 

"We're gonna pretend like that didn't happen." You waved your hands, trying to clear the past of what you'd said, "What else happened?" 

Dean chuckled, "Well you fell asleep on me, almost fell off the counter, and I couldn't let you sleep in those clothes so I tried to get you as clean as I could without, well… yeah. But I got you changed into pajamas and, I swear I kept my eyes closed as much as possible!" He was flustered and Sam laughed, remembering how he and Dean had struggled to clean you up last night without crossing any boundaries and the way Dean blushed like a 13 year old boy who'd just discovered Playboy when they peeled the blood soaked shirt off your unconscious form. 

"You saw me naked?!" You couldn't believe this. You trusted the boys with your life and knew they would never do anything to harm you but, you had to say, being drunkenly passed out was not the way you'd envisioned Dean seeing you naked for the first time. 

Sam put his hands up quickly in reassurance, "No! Just underwear! I swear!" 

You hated when the boys felt like they had to take care of you like that but nonetheless, you thanked them for helping you out last night, "And I'm sorry I got so drunk. It was a rough hunt. But here, lemme get y'all a cup of thank you coffee." You pressed yourself up and poured three cups of coffee and walked them back to the boys. 

They nodded their thanks and everyone took a sip, the coffee not doing much to help your hangover. Suddenly, Sam chuckled beside you. "What's so funny?" Dean asked, looking over his feet that were on the table. 

Sam smiled and shook his head, "Just thinking of you and Y/N getting married." 

Your heart sank. Was the thought of it so preposterous? "What's so funny about that?" Dean questioned defensively. 

"Just that you two are so much alike, I couldn't imagine dealing with you two together." Sam went on. 

You scoffed, "Y'know what? Maybe we'll get married just to spite you!" 

"Yeah! We'll walk down to the court house right now!" Dean's feet left the table top and returned to the floor. 

Sam gestured towards the two of you, who identically were leaning towards him, "See what I mean?! Look what you're doing now! Who knows what you'd do if you were actually together?" 

Yeah, you sighed to yourself, who knows… 

[braveclxrke]

Sometimes the wrong choice, takes you to the right place

Written for @malexweek 2020.

Day 1 (July 13) - Meet Ugly, based off the prompt “Your music is so goddamn loud and I need sleep so would you TURN IT OFF"

Read the whole fic under the cut or read on Ao3

preview

"It is 2am and I have been travelling for around 20 hours and I am exhausted and I just want to sleep but your music and guitar are so loud that that is impossible," Alex barked, "So loud that you couldn't even hear my knocking on the wall so could you please turn it off!" Alex finally finished, taking a breath. Alex had started talking so quickly he hadn't even looked at the person standing in front of him, till now.

Alex walked into the motel, throwing his bag towards the bed, not caring that it hit the edge and fell to the floor. Alex slumped down on the end of the bed, his hands falling into his lap. Alex reached up and ran his hands threw his hair, tugging at the end. Alex had spent 15 hours on a plane to get from Iraq back to Roswell, plus god knows how many hours in the car to get too and from the airport. Alex had just finished his first deployment and was back in Roswell for a break. While Alex was happy to no longer be at war being back in Roswell with his father wasn't exactly what he wanted either. Alex pulled his legs up on the bed, lying down and looking at the ceiling. Alex glanced over at the clock - 2:03 am. Alex sighed, he needed to get changed, brush his teeth but he didn't want to move from the bed, the crappy hotel bed being the best thing he'd felt today. Alex felt himself starting to drift off and just accepted it; he just wanted sleep.

Alex was torn from the edge of sleep by a sound. It stopped for a moment then started again; a guitar? Alex pulled himself up in the bed, looking around disorientated. The instrument began again, this time louder. Alex spun his head to the wall behind him where the head of the bed was leaning against. Alex cursed under his breath, why did he have to be next to the person playing music at 2am? What kind of dick does that? Alex laid down on the bed, closing his eyes. He'd slept in literal war zones, with guns and bombs going off, he could deal with a guitar, right? Alex pulled the pillow out from under him and placed it on his head, feeling like a child again. Alex breathed deeply, trying to relax.

The person next door changed chords, the guitar somehow sounding louder. Alex bit the inside of his cheek, throwing the pillow off his head. Alex dragged himself off the bed and headed towards a couch on the other side of the room, dropping down onto that. Alex closed his eyes, the guitar quieter from across the room. The guitar stopped, and Alex gave a relieved breath. The relief lasted for a second before music from a speaker started, louder than the guitar.

"Fuck," Alex called. Why was this happening? For a moment Alex told himself this is what he gets for choosing to stay at a hotel while visiting instead of with his dad. Alex felt a headache starting to occur, he sat up on the sofa running his hands down his face. What even was this music Alex told himself, he couldn't make out words, his brain too tired for that but it was loud enough that Alex could feel the vibrations across his floor. He tried to calm himself by breathing, clenching the edge of the sofa. The guitar started again. Alex whipped his head up; the guitar and music? Alex lunged off the bed towards the wall they were sharing, he banged on it a few times, hoping the person would understand what it meant; shut up. The music kept coming from the room, no evidence that they had any intention of stopping it. Alec shoved himself off the wall heading towards his hotel door. Alex flung it open taking a few steps before reaching the door next to him. He reached up pounding on the door, his head resting on it for a moment. Alex heard the guitar and music stop, then footsteps. The door in front of him swung open.

"It is 2am and I have been travelling for around 20 hours and I am exhausted and I just want to sleep but your music and guitar are so loud that that is impossible," Alex barked, "So loud that you couldn't even hear my knocking on the wall so could you please turn it off!" Alex finally finished, taking a breath. Alex had started talking so quickly he hadn't even looked at the person standing in front of him, till now. In front of Alex was a tall guy, about his height, loose curls hung from his head, a few strands in front of his copper-coloured eyes. Alex went to continue his rant but found his mouth dry and his words stuck in his throat.

The man was in a dark t-shirt with a flannel thrown over the top, torn jeans on his bottom. "I didn't realise it was 2am-" He started.

Alex cleared his throat, having to pull his eyes away for a moment. "Well, it is, so please can you be quiet, your guitar skills are not that good that I want to hear them at 2am" Alex bite back.

The guy held his hands up in mock surrender, "Of course," He said, and Alex could hear the sarcasm in his voice. Alex shook his head, turning his back to head into his room when the guy spoke again, "You know some whiskey would probably help you get some rest," Alex spun around, his brow furrowed. The guy lifted a whiskey bottle he was holding in his hand, shaking it a little, "Consider it an apology?" The guy said, stepping to the side a little so Alex could see into the room.

Alex narrowed his eyes at the man, he'd just spent the last hour keeping Alex awake and now wanted a drink? Alex looked at the guy again who was just stood there watching Alex. It had been a while since Alex had had a drink, and it would probably relax him. "One drink," Was all Alex said as he stepped into the room, the door behind him closing.

The guy walked over to a table, grabbing a small glass off it, pouring out a whiskey for himself and Alex. Alex stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, the guy came over and passed a drink to Alex, walking over to his bed and dropping down on the edge.

"So where you been that you've been travelling for 20 hours?"

"Iraq," Alex said, stepping a little closer to the room.

"Holiday?" He asked.

"Job," Alex replied. Alex had become acutely aware of how short his answers were. Part of Alex was still in work mode, offering only vital information and keeping his card close to his chest. "The military," He followed up with.

The guy nodded, taking a sip of his drink, "And what brings you to Roswell?" He asked, tilting his head to the side.

"Uhh, I live here," Alex said, walking closer into the room.

"You live here?" The guys asked, sounding surprised."Then why are you staying at a motel," He asked again, a small smile on his face.

"That's...complicated," Alex said, looking away. He looked back over to see the guy still looking at him, Alex cleared his throat a little, the guy made a facial expression that Alex could only describe as 'continue', why was this guy so interested in Alex's life, he cleared his throat a little. "I'm on leave for a while but don't particularly want to stay with my father," Alex confessed, not sure what about this random guy made him do that. Alex finally reached the seat that had been pulled out by the desk, taking a seat. "You?" Alex breathed.

"I grew up here, my siblings live in town, I'm visiting from UMN," He grew up here? Alex searched his brain, he was sure that he'd never seen this guy around town, he's sure he would have remembered if he did. Alex nodded, feeling the awkward tension in the room resurface; why had Alex agreed to this. It was then Alex noticed the guitar propped up by the desk, Alex looked over at it; it was nice, a dark varnish covering the top of it. "You play?" the guy asked.

"Not for a long time," Alex sighed, he hadn't touched a guitar since he'd been overseas.

"Why don't you play it now?" He asked.

Alex looked back over at the man on the bed, his eyebrows pulled together as he gave a shocked laugh, "Now?"

The guy stood up and started to walk towards Alex, coming to a stop by the desk. "Yeah, you got to listen to me play, so let me hear you," He teased, a playful smile on his face as he looked Alex up and down.

Alex gave a small laugh, "Well, that doesn't exactly count because I didn't want to hear you play," He joked.

The guy laughed back, Alex felt the smile on his face grow. "Damn was I that bad?" He asked.

"You're good," Alex said, and he couldn't help but notice how the guy gave a small smile at that, ducking his head away for a moment. "But its 2 am so it doesn't matter how good you are," He followed up with, taking a sip.

The guy laughed again, nodding. He reached out and stroked the strings off the guitar. "It helps me relax, I'd been so caught up in work that I hadn't noticed the time," He said, still concentrating on the guitar. "So you going to play?" He asked, turning to face Alex.

Alex looked at the guitar, it had been years, he wouldn't even know what to play or even if he would be good and Alex had to remind himself that he'd just met this guy and he wasn't a long term friend for something else. "Not tonight," Alex said, looking up at the man.

The guy raised his eyebrows, tilting his head to the side as he leaned on the wall next to Alex, a cocky smile on his face. "So I get to see you again?" He asked. Alex's mouth fell open but he didn't speak, "You've changed your tune since yelling at me-"

Alex stood from the table, holding his hand out in front of him, "I didn't yell I asked if you'd turn it down,"

The guy frowned, "You told me to turn it off,"

Alex shook his head, the corner of his mouth reaching up to give a small smile. "Okay, now I'm definitely not playing it for you," He said, finishing his drink.

The guy didn't say anything but just looked at Alex, his eyes going up and down for a moment. Alex shifted where he stood, feeling heat starting to grow in his cheeks. Alex had been on a plane for 15hours so was sure he wasn't looking his best, wearing some old jeans with a knitted black sweater. "You really grew up here huh?" The guys asked.

Alex leaned his head to the side, "Yeah, why?"

The guy finished his drink, "Just never noticed you before," He reached over and placed the empty glass next to Alex's, now standing only a few steps away from Alex, "I'm trying to wonder how to hell that happened," He said, his eyes coming up from the empty glass to Alex's. He walked passed Alex to where the whiskey bottle was, he poured himself another drink and hoovered the bottle above Alex's empty glass. "I know you said one drink but," He paused, waiting for Alex's approval.

Even though Alex had come here to tell the guy to let him sleep and thought he was a selfish ass before he knocked on the door Alex found himself wanting to stay, he looked over at the clock on the desk; it was almost 3am. Alex squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. "I have to be up early tomorrow, I gotta see my dad," He finished, cursing his father more than usual.

The guy nodded, pulling the bottle away from Alex's empty glass and placing it on the table. "Raincheck then?" The guy asked, taking a sip while keeping his eyes on Alex. Normally people said raincheck and didn't mean it, but somehow Alex could tell that his guy meant it.

Alex gave a small laugh, "I don't even know your name," Alex said, it only now dawning on him that he'd been chatting to this guy without even knowing who he was.

The man nodded, stepping closer to Alex. "Michael," He said, "Michael Guerin,"

Alex took a breath, "Alex Manes," He said,

Michael gave a nod, smiling, he placed his drink on the desk and leaned against it. "So Alex Manes, raincheck?" Alex couldn't help but smile, the guy was forward, Alex would give him that.

Alex thought for a moment, it was only a drink he told himself, what would be the harm in saying yes. He was only in two for a week or two, if it went bad Alex would probably next have to see him again. He looked at Michael again, feeling his chest tighten. "One condition," Alex said. Michael stood up from the desk, giving Alex a nod, "No more music from the speaker and if you're going to play your guitar, do it quietly,"

Michael laughed, rocking on his feet for a moment, He held both his hands up, "You have my word," He said.

Alex smiled back, "Raincheck then," Alex started to walk towards the door again, Michael behind him. "Thanks for the drink," Alex said, turning around to face Michael as they reached the door, noticing how close he was.

Michael gave a teasing smile, his gaze still on Alex "Thanks for knocking on the door," his voice clearly flirtatious. Alex looked away for a moment, he'd lived in Roswell his whole life and had never met anyone like Michael before. He gave a smile before pulling the door handle open and stepping out, "You know the Wildpony?" Michael said, his hands holding the door frame,

Alex turned back around, "Of course," he said.

"Wanna cash in your raincheck there?" Michael asked, "Say...tomorrow night around 8pm?" He continued, crossing his arms over his chest, leaning his body against the door frame.

Alex smirked, "You barely even know me?" he said, not understanding why this guy wanted to see Alex again so much.

Michael stepped forward out of the doorframe towards Alex, "I know, and I'm trying to change that," He softly said.

Alex bites the inside of his cheek, this was up there for one of the weirdness night of Alex's life, yet somehow it had been one of the best he'd had in a while. "Alright," Alex said, feeling the tiredness leaving him.

The guy beamed back, "I'll see you tomorrow Alex Manes," He said, and Alex couldn't deny he liked hearing this guy say his name.

"Night Michael," Alex said, turning to his door. Alex reached out and turned his door handle when he heard Michael again.

"Hey, remember you promised to play the guitar for me, part of the rain check deal?" Alex smiled from where he was stood, he stood up straight and turned back around, trying to lessen his smile but failing.

"Well I'm not playing at the Wildpony so I guess..." Alex trailed off, seeing what Michael would say. Alex wasn't sure if it was the glass of whiskey after months of not drinking or the lack of sleep but Alex suddenly had a wave of confidence run through him.

Michaels smile crept up his face, the corner of his eyes wrinkling for a moment. "I'll just have to see you again, then," Michael finished, the wide smile turning into a more flirtatious one.

"Afraid so," Alex breathed. The pair just stood there for a moment before Alex gave one finale smile, "I'll see you tomorrow Michael," he said, finally opening his door and stepping inside, closing the door behind him and leaning versus it, his head looking up at the ceiling. Alex cast off his jumper and jeans, slipping into the bed and pulling the sheets up around him. It was silence in his room and next door was quiet. Alex closed his eyes as the thrill of the evening started to wear off and the tiredness took over again, feel as it was pulling him deeper into the bed. The silence was broken by soft guitar chores from next door. This time Alex didn't curse, didn't throw the pillow over his head or make any effort to leave the bed. Instead, Alex smiled, a warm feeling expanding in his chest, maybe being back in Roswell wouldn't be so bad after all, maybe with the addition of Michael Guerin, Roswell could become somewhere he wanted to be.