#I always find the stupid expensive ones and i'm so fucking sad

[tojisbbygworl]

Before I Let Go - Yandere!Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Summary: A grieving woman comes face to face with her thought to be deceased husband and can't find it in her to care about how wrong this was. She missed him. So much.

WARNINGS: Thoughts of Suicide, Suicide Attempt

Words: 4,994

Tags: 18+, 3rd person, Angst, Emotional Smut, Desperation, Grief/Mourning, Yandere, Spying, Kidnapping, Minimal Spanish terms of endearment

author's note: hey y'all. I have another fic for you. I am so glad I finished it it's been sitting in my drafts for a minute. The yandere part of this isn't violent although there is some slight physical pain put on the reader during sex. Just a mention of choking and scratching it's not bad. It's more obsession if anything. Also, I wasn't even gonna try with the Spanish girl. The most he says is carina and hermosa and I know y'all are sick of seeing that atp. I barely even tried with the British for Hobie I'm not about to embarrass myself LMAO

I hope this makes y'all sad honestly I feel like I could have made it sadder but I'm still very happy with it. Anyway, enjoy! 🩵

AO3 version

My AO3

Masterlist

The buzzing sound of a phone call is all that can be heard in the apartment. It has been a week since the funeral, and Y/N O’Hara hasn’t said a single word. She doesn't even remember what her voice sounds like.

Miguel O'Hara was everything to her. He meant the entire world. She would do anything he asked, but he never asked for much. All he wanted was her love. She was the same with him. A perfect partnership. She felt like she was on top of the universe. And then it was taken away from her. In a fucking car crash, no less.

He was the smartest person she knew. He was the head geneticist at Alchemax after all. He wasn't a stupid driver. No. It was the other driver's fault. But what could she do about it? It was just a kid. A teenager that had just gotten their license, but hadn't taken official driving lessons; no one really drilled into them the severity of texting while driving. How could she really blame them? How could she press charges? Miguel always told her that she was too forgiving. Too understanding.

He was right. But...she also couldn't help but to think it wasn't fair. That her beautiful husband had to die from their actions, and all they had to deal with was an insane insurance increase and a fucked up car that their parents were bound to replace. She would give anything to trade consequences. Anything.

Almost two months since his death, she's been wandering around her apartment frequenting the most common places she and Miguel would cuddle in. She always had a shared blanket, one of his shirts, or a pillow that had his hair on it to squeeze and cry into. If she sprayed it with his cologne and shut her eyes really tight, she could almost imagine he really was there. Almost.

These objects could never replace him. She missed his warmth. She missed his chest pushing her head up and down from his breathing. It would rumble when he chuckled. His hands were so large that her entire back would heat up when he held her gently. He was so tall, 6'6 to be exact, he would completely engulf her whenever they embraced. She felt so safe in his arms. She doesn't feel safe anymore.

Nearly two months of hunching over on the floor of her apartment in pain. She wailed into the ground. Coughing and scratching whatever she could hold onto, because the pain was too much to bare. Oh, the pain. She wouldn't wish this kind of heartbreak on anyone or anything.

The apartment was large, courtesy of his checks. He could already afford it on his own, then, the both of them married just a few years ago and he didn't expect her to pay a dime, despite how much she insisted. Instead, she bought food and handled upkeep. If it got too expensive, then he would chip in. She would have to move out eventually, his remaining income and life insurance the only thing keeping her afloat. Just another thing that she can’t fathom.

It was 3 bed, 2 bath. One was their bedroom, the other was his office, she's been going in there a lot as well, and they always wondered what they would do with the last room. For so long, it was empty even before she moved in with him. He never knew what he could use it for. He had hoped that she would turn it into a hobby room, she loved to paint and she played the violin a little, but there was a beautiful terrace attached to the apartment that she opted for instead and she insisted the living room had the best acoustics so the room remained a mystery. Until last year, when he dropped a bomb on her.

It was an extremely average day for the both of them. They were both home from work, nothing interesting to report, and were deciding what to eat for dinner. She suggests something they could cook, and he agrees. As the night goes on, something seems off about Miguel. He's quiet and zoning out a lot. Something has to be on his mind, right?

"Babe," she calls for him snapping him out of his trance.

"Hm?"

"Everything alright?" She puts her hand on his shoulders and gives him a worried look. Miguel swallows his spit then turns towards her grabbing her hand and placing his on her waist.

"I've been thinking..." His voice is small. She starts to grow anxious as she had never seen him look so timid. He was more nervous than when he asked her to marry him.

"W-What is it?" She stutters. He kisses her knuckles.

"It's just something that I've been wanting for a while now. And if you don't, then It's completely fine. I care about your happiness above everything."

"Miguel, stop being so cryptic and tell me what's up," She half jokes.

He nervously bites his lips and looks away. Then, taking a deep breath, he looks into her eyes and says, "I want to have a kid."

She felt it was best to pretend the work-in-progress nursery didn't exist. In her mind, the room is still empty. There wasn’t a crib set up. The walls weren't in the process of being painted. They didn't have arguments about what to put on it because they didn't know the gender. In fact, gender of what? They weren't planning for a baby. The third room is as empty as she is.

The both of them were foolish, deciding to get everything set up before she got pregnant instead of winging it like everyone else. She should have winged it. Then maybe she would still have a piece of him with her.

It was so fucking hard to focus on what mattered. She was hanging on a thread that thinned out every single day. Before the funeral, she wondered what would be her breaking point? The point where she finally got up and decided to keep going.

The weather was very fitting for that day. The sun was gone, and the rain came in waves. Her tears, however, never stopped. It was a stupid decision to make it open casket. She gazed upon his resting face for the first time since he died in the hospital then turned and ran to the nearest bathroom to empty her stomach. She hadn’t even gotten to say her speech; Miguel’s mother read for her instead.

Something inside her snapped. Sometimes the pain is a dull ache in her chest, and she’s numb everywhere else. Other times it’s a sharp twang that she can feel in her back. She has to lay or sit down when that happens. Sometimes it courses through her entire upper body and she can’t even move. But this…this stabbing, twisting, and searing pain that ripples through her heart and travels to the tip of her fingers and toes…she hasn’t felt this before.

This was the breaking point, but it did the opposite. She didn’t talk for the rest of the day, her and his family begging her to stay with them. She didn’t listen.

It was nights like tonight that she felt completely alone. She knew she wasn’t, if she just picked up the phone and texted someone, then maybe she would be okay. She just needed to stop looking at the ceiling, turn to her nightstand, pick up her phone, and call her mother. But it was 1 in the morning, and Miguel looked so happy in her lock screen picture…

Her and Miguel had been up here on the top of the apartment building so many times before. They liked to dance, he would watch her play or paint, they had picnics together, it was perfect when they wanted to get out of the apartment, but still have some privacy.

The view was nice. They could see across the entirety of Nueva York. Central Park in the fall was especially amazing to gaze upon. But now it fills her with grief. As she steps on top of the edge, she decides that if this couldn’t make her feel better, then nothing could.

She’s glad she’s doing this in the middle of the night, where no one could see her and call for help. She was sure that she would traumatize a couple people when morning came, a problem that she couldn’t be bothered by. She was ready to be back in his arms. So she walked off. And closed her eyes as she plummeted through the air.

She’s scared. But excited. She only has to feel excruciating pain for a second and then never again. It’s almost over.

She hits something, or more so, something hits her. She’s still flying through the air, but it’s different now. There’s a warm body holding onto her for dear life, and she’s soaring upwards into the night sky. Opening her eyes to gaze at her savior, she sees a masked silhouette. It-it’s Spider-Man…but he looks completely different. She can barely see him, the only source of light being the moon, but she could swear that this wasn’t his mask.

They land on the rooftop again and he puts her down. She crawls away from him, embarrassed and ashamed at what she’s done. She was still alive and now she was in more pain than ever before. Wailing on the floor, she glared up at him in vitriol.

“Why did you save me?” She yelled, her voice powerful for a woman who hadn’t been verbal for a week. Spider-Man didn’t answer. She wasn’t even sure if he was looking at her. “I didn’t want to be saved.” Still, he said nothing. So she continued to cry, and she cried harder and harder until she felt a sensation on her back.

He was trying to comfort her, but when she turned he backed off, holding his hands up instead. Her lips quivered, then she threw herself into his arms. His hold on her body was snug and comforting. Her anger for him dissipates immediately as she accepts his affection. For the first time in a while, she felt safe. She didn’t want him to let go.

And he didn’t. He stayed until she fell asleep in his arms. Then, he picked her up, gazing upon her peaceful face with the light from the inter dimensional portal, then walked into it with no intention of coming back.

~

This wasn’t her room.

She sat up in the bed and took in her surroundings. These weren’t her sheets, that wasn’t her wallpaper, the blinds were different, the floor wasn’t carpeted, everything even the floor plan of the room was different. This isn’t her home.

Her heart begins to pound. Where was she? She was still in her clothes, but that’s the only comfort that she had. Immediately, she shoots out of the bed, the comforter tangling in her feet making her fall onto the floor. The large thump that her fall makes scares her. She stays on the floor, still and quiet as a mouse. There's no noise for a couple seconds. Then, the sound of someone walking.

She hyperventilates, quickly removing herself from the blanket and standing up. But she realizes that she has no where to go. There's a small closet in the room, and space under the bed, but those the only hiding spaces she can think of. And the footsteps were getting closer. What can she do, she wonders as she backs into the wall.

The door swings open. And her heart stops.

Miguel stared at his wife's variant in concern and turns on the light. The woman blinks and shields her eyes, but the bewildered look that she sported quickly comes back. "What happened?"

When he spoke, she gasped and took another step back. She smacked her hand over her mouth. Her eyes glistened with tears, her breath shuddered. "You're alright?" Miguel asked her again. She didn't answer.

For what felt like the longest time, they just stared at each other. He was afraid of approaching her thinking he may scare her away. She was in completely disbelief at what she was seeing. Miguel raised his hands and stayed near the door way. "Please, don't freak out," he began.

She let out a sob, tears escaping her eyes when she did. Placing her hand on her chest, she lifts herself from the wall. Miguel takes this as a sign to keep going.

"I know you must be confused. You're probably upset and angry. I understand." She took a step forward. "But if you would just left me explain..." Another step. Then another. And another. And she held her hand out in front of her. As she approached him, he realized how badly she was trembling, and it only got worse the closer she got. But still, she moved forward.

The speech Miguel had been practicing before she woke up died in his throat. He was speechless as he watched her courageously close the space between them. When she finally stood right in front of him, she hesitated. He could hear her soft gasps and cries. Then finally, she softly touched his chest. He looked down at her hand, then up at her face. Even though she was crying profusely, she looked upon him in wonder. He just wants to reach out and grab her, but he holds himself back.

She begins to rub his chest and torso, appalled by his presence. He looks back down at her hands. Then, they trail themselves up to his neck, stopping right under his chin. He lifts his head up. They both hold their breath for a second. Then, with a gasp from her, and a sigh from him, she finally touches his cheek. Miguel closes his eyes and leans into her palm. He lifts his arm up, and encases her hand in his, keeping it in place.

Her lips begin to move. With a tiny shaky breath, she whispers, "It's you."

Miguel's face is troubled. He has a small frown and his eyebrows were upturned. He twists his head in her palm to give it a small kiss.

Her eyes flicker all over his body. It is him...but he's different. He's taller now. His build is thicker and he feels tense. Miguel was a gym buff, but this man...this kind of definition is not built in the gym. His frown is deep, and so are his wrinkles. His eyes were more troubled than hers, and had the slightest hint of red. And his teeth...she could feel his sharp canines with her thumb.

"No," she realizes. "It's not you."

Miguel opens his eyes and stares at her. He can see the fear growing on her face, and he starts to panic. He moves his hand to her wrist to hold it gently. But he's prepared to squeeze it if she tries to run. "I'm not him. But-"

"But you look like him." She continues, her voice on the precipice of hysteria. "And you sound like him." She holds both of his cheeks and caresses his face with her thumbs. "And you feel like him..."

Miguel winces as he watches her cry louder and louder with every observation. "Cariña, please," He takes her hands off of his face and kisses her knuckles. She completely breaks down crying. Miguel reaches his arms out, and she throws herself into his chest, sobbing into his neck. "You don't have to cry anymore. I'm here now."

"But who are you?" Her voice muffled by his shoulder.

He gulps. "...I am Miguel, but-"

"But you're not my Miguel, are you?" She lifts her head up to stare at him. She looked anguished, her brain not being able to process what was going on. He doesn't answer. "Did you save me?" He nodded. "Why?"

"I had to, baby. I-"

"Where did you come from?" She pushes herself off of him, and Miguel can't find it in him to hold her there. He let's go of her, knowing that there is no where she can really run where he won't find her. "No, where have you been?"

He furrows his brows and tilts his head. "What?"

"Where the hell have you been?" She screams at him in unbridled rage. Her tears were never ending, and her glare was fierce. "I was in fucking agony when you died. I couldn't live with myself. I couldn't get over you. I didn't want to. I missed you so much." Her anger turned into desperation and she falls to her knees on the floor, weeping into her hands. Miguel looks on in desolation, his eyes filling with tears as well. He walks to her and leans down, trying to get her to stand. She flips her head up at him. "Who are you?"

"Please, let me explain." He sits on the floor with her, holds her face and leans into it. She doesn't pull away, instead, she kisses him first, her cries never ending. Her hands tangle themselves in his hair. Miguel wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her into him. He sits back and pulls her into his lap.

The kiss lasts until they run out of breath, then they pull away, panting in each others' faces. "I...am Miguel." He starts. "But not your Miguel. And you are not my Y/N."

She shakes her head and scrunches up her face. "Just listen." Her mouth closes again, and she relaxes preparing herself to take in every word he says...

...Miguel spent a lot of time watching her. His Y/N, across the multiverse. In each one, they are together. It's fate. And in every one...she dies. No matter what that universe's Miguel does, she dies. That must be fate, too. Then he found a universe where that didn't happen. He died instead. He took a chance, and when he replaced himself he was the happiest he had ever been. And then everything was destroyed. An entire universe...gone. He swore to never interfere with fate again. He whispered a soft 'sorry' to every Miguel he found after that.

He saw her, Y/N on Earth - 548. Happy as ever with her devilishly handsome husband. He felt for him. He had no idea the heartbreak he was about to experience. But, for the second time in his studies, he was the one who died. He cried, knowing that he could never do anything about it. When she became a shell of her former self, he focused all of his attention on her. Putting all of his work on Jess and Peter, he monitored her. He watched her cry, she spent all of her time off from work at home rolling around in her bed as if the emotional pain was so strong that it was physical as well. He watched her touch herself at night, whispering his name into the empty air, him joining her from where he was spying groaning her name as well, wishing his cum was dripping from her cunt instead of down his hand. He called for her, hoping that his prayers to keep her safe would reach who ever was listening. They didn't.

He knew that when she sat up like a ghost from her bed that fateful night, she was about to do something rash. He held his hand over his watch, ready to jump as soon as he felt he needed to. When she began to walk to the edge, he decided to not even risk it and hopped into the portal.

He didn't expect her to turn and scream at him the way she did. He hadn't heard her beautiful voice for some time, he missed it so much, and the first thing she did was yell at him. He was stunned. He couldn't believe she was right in front of him. He looked at his watch. No indication of a canon event. There was nothing. Which meant...she was never supposed to die.

He was impulsive, he knows that. But, it worked out in his favor. She was supposed to be alive. He had done right. And now he had a decision to make. Does he leave her here to figure everything out on her own, or does he take her with him...and let her family think she's dead…

“You were watching me?”

Miguel refuses to meet her eyes. She didn’t move, but he tightened his grip around her just in case. Her voice was wavering.

When he didn’t answer, she continued. “Why didn’t you save him?”

He looked up at her that time. Above everything else, she was melancholy. “I couldn’t.”

“Why?”

“I just couldn’t, mi amor. You don’t understand.”

With her face contorted in pain, she released a choked sob. Her mouth was hung open. If she chose to believe this imposter, than hearing that nothing could have been done about the love of her life brought her no comfort. It wasn’t fair.

She gripped Miguel’s shirt letting her head fall forward into his chest. He held her for a long time while her shoulders shook. “Please, believe me.”

She doesn’t say anything, but her cries stopped. He began to worry, but she soon lifted her head up and looked into his eyes. His flicked back and forth between hers, and the both of them dive into another passionate kiss. This time, they don’t let up from each other. It gets more intense. Miguel’s breath picks up as his hands begin to explore her back and waist. She pushes her body up against his, rubbing their chests together.

She’s the one who pulls away opting to kiss down from his cheek to his neck. “Just come to bed with me. Please?” She begs into his skin.

Miguel, in a daze, whispers “Okay.”

He lifts her up and lays her down onto his bed, kissing her sweetly as he climbed on top of her. He felt so much bliss, he never imagined he would be able to do this again.

The way she grabbed his face made him never want to physically leave her side again. This was where he wanted to stay for the rest of their lives. She kissed him with so much despair, so much need, how could he ever leave her mouth? But, the strain in his pants and the grip she had on his back get worse, and he finds a reason to pull away.

She whimpers, missing the way his tongue caressed her mouth, leaving her lips swollen and shiny. Her eyes open, silently asking him where he was going, until he reached under the hem of her shirt and lifts it off of her, exposing her beautiful breasts. She gasps when he begins to rub his hand between them, eventually grabbing one to hold and play with. Miguel grins at her while she watches him rub his thumb across her hardened nipple. Which turned into her watching him dip his head down to her sternum and leave the smallest, lightest kiss.

The restraint he had on himself as he trailed his mouth down her body was unnatural. His claws had long since come out, ripping into the bedsheets as he tried so hard not replace them with her luscious hips. She was responding unbelievably well, making him happy he didn’t listen to Lyla tell him how terrible of an idea this was.

Lyla was wrong, he told himself when he heard her soft cry as his tongue played with her nipple. She began to squirm from frustration, and he just had to push his hips in between her open legs, the heat from his dick making her rub her wet panties along his shaft. Miguel moaned with her nipple fully inside his mouth, her moaning with him from the vibration against her chest.

She’s not scared of me, he thought as he leaves her nipple and kisses down her body. His lips finally met up with her panties, opting to push them to the side instead of taking them off completely. He places a kiss on her sensitive clit, his precum staining his underwear when she yelps. Miguel takes a moment to look at her glistening pussy, then he closes his eyes when he finally licks it.

And she doesn’t hate me. Miguel looks drunk when he starts eating her out. His eyebrows are raised and he gently placed her hand on her spread thigh, caressing the soft skin. Her whines making him even more desperate to please her, he presses his tongue into her center harder. His lips are covered with her fluid. Miguel gives her thigh a nice squeeze, then a slap, then he stands up straight.

When she opens her eyes to look at him, her heart races. His eyelids were low, and he towered over body making her feel smaller than she was. His stare was filled with infatuation, wiping off his lower face with one swipe of his large hand. Without breaking eye contact, he rips his shirt off and swipes his pants and underwear down, his large member bouncing back up. Miguel spit into his palm and started jerking himself off. Then, he climbs onto the bed, aligning his hips with hers.

He drools onto her pussy, her shuddering as his spit meets her clit and runs down her lips. It does well to lube her up with Miguel rubbing his tip in between her folds. “Ngh…fuck,” he mutters, the feeling of her wet cunt on his sensitive head giving him a feeling of euphoria.

She grew impatient, while Miguel was trying to take his time and savor her, she was ready to feel him split her apart. This was something she’s been dreaming about since she lost him. She waited for the day his naked body would engulf hers, his face on her cheek whispering filthy insults and sweet praises into her ear. As she remembers how sex used to be with her love, she starts to tear up.

“Miguel,” she whined making him look at her worriedly. When his eyes open, the red she noticed before is even more prominent. His mouth was opened slightly so she could barely see his fangs. How he could look so similar yet so different from her Miguel, she doesn’t know.

“Yes?” He asks her.

“Please, I can’t wait any longer. I want…” She moves her hips on him again. Miguel looks down at their hips and holds hers still.

He doesn’t respond, just pushes his length into her slowly. He grunts as he sheathes himself inside her warmth, reveling in her cries. “Shit, baby.” She’s tight and squeezing him so nicely, he can’t stop until he's inside of her fully.

She’s breathing heavily with her head thrown back and her eyes closed. Her back is arched lifting her naked chest into the air. “Look at me,” Miguel commands. She lifts her head up giving him what he wanted. Her eyes are filled with tears. It hurts, but feels so good. She missed him so much, and now they were one again.

Miguel whimpers at her beautiful face. “Hermosa,” he reaches out to her cheek to hold it. “Don’t cry.”

“But I love you,” she tells him.

He gasps. His hand lifts from her face. Freezing, he stares into her eyes in disbelief. “W-What?”

She takes his hand and brings it to her lips, leaving a gentle smooch. Her eyes close and the tears fall. “I love you, Miguel.”

His eyesight gets blurry as well, and soon Miguel is crying profusely. “Oh, baby,” he leans over her and pulls his hips backwards. Then he slams himself back down, making her yelp. She grabs his face and kisses him. “I love you too.”

As Miguel fucks her slowly, neither of them can find it in them to stay quiet. Miguel has to tell her how terribly in love with her he is. She has to let him know how much she missed him. He leans into her neck and whispers how he missed her too, and to stop crying because he’s here now. Even though, he can’t stop crying either.

She’s so happy to hear that he will never leave her side. She decides to believe him, accepting happiness instead of reality. She ignores his red eyes, his sharp fangs that press against her neck, as if he can barely hold himself back from biting her. She ignores how different the rumbling in his chest is from her Miguel. It’s not soft or sweet nor does it make her content. This one is predatory and dangerous, it makes her nervous.

She dismisses the way he grabs her neck; tight, leaving her with no air, whereas her Miguel knew that she didn’t like it rough. Honestly, neither did he. This Miguel went faster and harder. He grunted into her ear. But, she doesn't care.

She completely ignores how different this Miguel was. Her wishes were answered. She got him back. It doesn’t matter that his hold on her hip was so strong that he’s scratching her. That he didn’t stop or slow down when she came making her overstimulated. She let him cum inside her soon after, knowing that she wasn’t on anything.

“I miss you so fucking much,” she wailed when he slipped his dick out of her, his cum following suit and staining the bed beneath her.

Instead of getting a warm towel, Miguel laid down next to her and pulled her into his arms silencing her cries. “I told you baby, I’m right here.” But she doesn’t correct herself. She doesn’t calm down. She grips him for dear life and Miguel grows nervous.

Lyla was wrong…right?

“You know she will never love you the way she loved him. It will never be the same. Miguel...are you listening?”

“Lyla…shut down.”

ending a/n: Heyyyyy, did y'all like it? This will definitely not be my only Miguel fic but rn I don't really have any ideas for him. My brain is filled with thoughts of Hobie, and I need to stop neglecting my baby daddy Toji, lmao. So I'll be working on a real quick Hobie imagine and my AO3 stories as well for now. Unless I think of something else. I've been thinking about requests but I will fuck around and make a whole story from it cuz idk how to stop writing so damn much. Y'all I rly dk if I want to make another part to JFTN I rly like how it ended and I can't rly think about how I would continue it. Y'all might just have to deal idk girl. I love ya though! Anyway, I'll see y'all in the next story!🩵

AO3 version

My AO3

Masterlist

#across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #spider man 2099 smut #yandere #yandere miguel o'hara #yandere miguel x reader

[gimmethatagustd]

55 taehyung

When I wake up you're not next to me / Guess I'm missing all your energy / That's all I want / Promise I am not your enemy / I just need another memory / That's all I want / 'Cause all I want is you

» pairing: taehyung x reader

» genre: BTS | 18+ | drabble | exes to friends/future lovers | fluff | angst

» wc/date: 1k | December 2022

» warnings: alcohol | taehyung is Gentle and Soft and Everything Good in the World

» masterlist | AO3 | send me ur thots 👅

» notes: this made me so delulu you have no idea 😫 also this was my first time writing in present tense and ngl i kinda like it 👀

“You’re still the love of my life.” 

Candlelight casts dancing shadows across Taehyung’s face. They highlight the sharpness of his jawline and reflect orange sparkles in his dark eyes. You want to believe the sudden cool breeze cutting through an otherwise warm summer night makes you shiver, but you know that would be a lie. No, Taehyung is to blame for your jitters. He always is. It’s the look he gives you as he lifts his wine glass to his mouth, his tongue briefly slipping out to wet his lips before taking in the red liquid. 

How many glasses were you on? 

You press your fingers to your cheeks, knowing your skin isn’t hot because of the wine. 

You were wine drunk the first time you met Taehyung. You tell everyone you don’t remember that night, but it’s only to save yourself from the embarrassment. You were at a house party hosted by someone you genuinely don’t remember anymore. Although most of the night was a drunken blur, you do remember Taehyung’s warm hands squeezing your own. You remember how gentle he was, how his thumbs rubbed circles into your skin to soothe you while you blabbered through hot tears about your friend leaving you alone at the party. His willingness to find a quiet corner to talk down a stranger from a drunken panic attack was everything anyone needed to know about Taehyung, in your opinion. Calm, patient, and unafraid of looking someone in the eyes during their worst moment and showing them kindness without any judgment or ridicule. 

You couldn’t have imagined that a year later you would move in with the gentle boy from the party. You couldn’t have imagined that you’d get to hold those warm hands all day, every day, whenever you wanted. 

You also couldn’t have imagined that two years later you’d be moving out. 

The gentle boy from the party never changed. Sure, he grew up. He finished graduate school, got a “big kid job” as he put it, adopted a dog, and bought a condo. He matured, but he didn’t change, not really. He was still the same gentle boy. 

You were the one who changed. 

“You don’t have to say anything. It’s okay.” Taehyung gives you a sad smile when silence falls between the two of you long enough for him to come to his own conclusions. “I suppose that was unfair of me to tell you.” 

And there he goes, being considerate when you’re the one who has been so, so unfair.

“Why,” you blurt out. 

Taehyung looks as though he’s going to speak, but your waiter suddenly appears at your table to inquire about the food that’s gone mostly uneaten on your plates and the bottle of wine that’s halfway gone. 

It’s so easy to get lost in Taehyung’s presence, to forget that there’s a world beyond him. You remind yourself that you’re at an expensive restaurant, on the outdoor patio. All around you are couples sharing a late dinner beneath the stars. It’s Valentine’s Day. The waiter is gone now.

“Why?” Your eyes refocus on Taehyung who now has his fingers threaded together beneath his chin. Despite his sad smile, there’s a quirk to his eyebrows that makes your stomach do something you wish it wouldn’t.  

“I treated you horribly. I put all my energy into writing that stupid fucking book. Writing imaginary worlds instead of paying attention to the one I was in. The one you were part of.” Your voice is small, but Taehyung’s has always been soft enough to never overpower yours. 

He sucks on his teeth and lets his hands fall into his lap. With a cocked head, he watches you for a few too many heartbeats for your liking. 

“I did then what I knew how to do. Now that I know better, I do better.” He takes another sip of his wine. Waits. 

“Are you quoting Maya Angelou at me right now?” Your question is meant to carry an accusatory tone, but it’s nothing more than light teasing, and perhaps a bit of confusion. 

And then there’s the boxy grin you once had the privilege of waking up to every morning. Now you had one of those alarm clock lamps that mimic the sun rising. It’s nowhere near as bright as Taehyung’s smile. 

“Perhaps.” He puts his hands up when he knows you’re about to press him further. “But it’s a good quote!” 

He always knew how to speak your language, even when you hadn’t tried to learn how to speak his. 

“It’s an excuse for shitty behavior,” you point out. 

“It’s a promise for a better future.” 

You stop yourself from running your mouth and force yourself to sit with his words. Taehyung, forever the optimist. Where you saw failures, he saw opportunities for growth. 

“Neither of us knew what we were doing,” Taehyung continues softly. He reaches over to take your hand in his. It’s been a year and he’s still soft, still warm, still calming. “But now we know better.” 

You want to tell him he’s wrong; you were the only fuck-up in this equation. But you don’t because Taehyung never lets you get away with speaking poorly of yourself, even after a year apart. 

“I want to try… to do better. But I don’t want to hurt you if it’s not good enough.” 

Taehyung lets out an airy laugh, his intense gaze finally falling from your eyes to instead gaze at your fingers interlocked with his. “I’m not so fragile, Y/N.” And just as quickly, his dark eyes are on you once again. You wonder if you’ll ever be able to look him in the eyes without feeling like your heart is in your throat. “And even if I was, I’d still rather be hurt by you over and over for the rest of my life than settle for loving someone I can never give myself fully to.” 

“I wouldn’t let it happen over and over again,” you whisper, willing the prickly feeling at the corner of your eyes to disappear. 

“Mhmm,” Taehyung hums with a squeeze of your hand. “And that’s how I know we’ll be okay.” 

all rights reserved © gimmethatagustd on tumblr & AO3

do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my work

#thebtswritersclub #purplearmynet #taehyung x reader #taehyung fluff #taehyung imagine #taehyung fanfic #taehyung scenarios #bts taehyung #bts #bts imagines #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts au #gimmethatagustd #jai writes #kth #clubzerooclock #bts fluff #spotify drabble #drabble request #it takes two #bts angst #taehyung angst

[nevada-wrytes]

4th of July

An excerpt from what I'm calling The Jamie and Luke Show. Title is yet to be determined.

Luke was gripping onto Jamie's forearm, as if his life depended on it. His fingers dug into skin and Jamie could feel the reverberations from his trembling hands.

Jamie felt amused at the irony of their situation. He was the one with a missing leg and Luke was still more scared of falling off the roof than him.

Luke noticed his smile and frowned, his voice wavering, “You're way too calm about this.”

Jamie laughed to try and break up the tension. “Relax, like I said, I used to climb up here with my dad every year. There's no way we can fall.”

Luke huffed. “Fine, but if we do, I'm using you as a pillow.”

Although Luke was clearly trying to move past it, Jamie had the sudden urge to tease him. He wanted to see him smile. He wanted to ease away that crease in his brows himself.

“Oh, is someone scared of heights?” He leaned in to poke Luke, “Is the two story building bothering you? Should I fight it for your honor?”

His grin was wide and Jamie knew it looked stupid because Luke rolled his eyes, but did not give in to the taunts. Still his mouth curved up.

Jamie stayed like that, silently watching him, for a while. Luke didn't notice, he was looking at the ground, probably sizing up how much damage he could do if he pushed him off right now. Jamie waited for Like to make a light hearted threat that would propel them into more easy banter and lighten the tension along his frame, but it never came.

Instead, Luke scooted closer, so their sides were lined up perfectly, touching ever square inch. Jamie realized Luke may be a lot more scared than he looked. Now he felt bad for dragging him up here.

He leaned in close and spoke softly, not a whisper, but something low and gentle, “Why didn't you tell me you were afraid of heights?”

Luke avoided his eyes. “You already knew. Why do you think I never climbed up the slide like you and Viv did on the playground?”

“That's when we were kids!”

Luke shrugged, or, as best as he could while plastered to roof tiles. “It just never went away I guess,” he mumbled.

Jamie frowned. Guilt crept into his perfect plan. The roof was supposed to be romantic-

Suddenly, Luke turned to him and smiled. Then squeezed his hand. Fuck, he was always so perseptive. He could always tell when Jamie was feeling upset and angry or sad. And he'd always find a way to make it better, sometimes at the expense of himself. Did Jamie really deserve him?

“Luke-” Jamie's voice was thick with emotion, the word stuck in his throat. Even if he could make the words come out, he was interrupted by a loud fizz overheard.

“Oh look! It’s starting!”

Above them, the firework show had begun. Bright sparkling trails raced into the dark clear sky and exploded into crimson, green, and gold showers. The night was soon filled with smoke and noise. Jamie was sure it was a wonderful sight, they were so high up it would almost look like they could touch the glowing sparks, but he wouldn't remember how the fireworks looked that night, because he wasn't paying attention to them at all.

He was looking at Luke. At his best friend. At the one person in the world that completes him.

Luke's eyes reflected the shining world around them like a kaleidoscope. They were wide open in pure joy. His smile was brighter than any firework could have been that night. He had only eyes for the sky, so Jamie took his time memorizing every detail of his face as if it was the first time, as if he hadn't done it before and will do it again. He loves him. He loves him. He loves him. His whole body was thrumming with that song.

Jamie inches closer. His heart was beating furiously in his chest, louder than the explosion of rockets above. During a lull in the show, when Luke turned his head towards him, and their faces were mere hairwidths apart, breaths merging, Jamie had the urge in his gut to do something stupid.

But he was always acting stupid, wasn't he?

“Jamie-?” Luke phrased it as a question, couldn't read the intention in Jamie's eyes, didn't understand the silence or the closeness, so Jamie explained the only way he knew how.

He leaned in and pressed their mouths together.

The fireworks show continued overhead, but a greater explosion was happening in Jamie's mind.

He'd dreamed of this, planned this exact moment for weeks, well maybe not exactly how it was supposed to go, he was supposed to have confessed first, but still, his dreams would never compare to being in the moment.

Luke kissed him back with a desperation Jamie didn't even know he had. His hands were soon under his chin, angling his face up so their lips were never apart. Jamie wished he could bring his hands up too, he wanted to run his fingers under Luke's jaw and over his chest and pull him so very, very close, and he soon cursed his decision of choosing the roof, where he needed both hands to keep his balance.

His first kiss, and Jamie never wanted it to end. It felt like a dream. The fireworks filled the sky with shimmering colors that cast them both in a godly light. Luke's body was warm right next to him, warmer than the now cooling night around him, and his lips were soft and chapped from all that time spent chewing off the skin when stressed. It was such a stunning realization, all these little quirks that made Luke who he was, that Jamie knew of previously, but could now experience in a new way, that he almost forgot to breathe. He didn't want it to end. But his need for air betrayed him.

Jamie gasped, and that must have pulled Luke out of whatever trance he was in, because he stopped closing in. They both panted, faces still breaths apart. Jamie stared into his eyes, and this time Luke stared back, mouth agape. His eyes were wide and dark. Disbelieving? Hopeful? His expression seemed so open, so genuine and cute that Jamie had to bite his lip from trying something again.

“Jamie,” Luke whispered, or maybe Jamie imagined it, because his hammering heart and the screeches of the rockets made it near impossible to hear anything.

Jamie opened his mouth without thinking. “Luke, I think I love you.”

His confession was all warbled and came out much too quiet, because Luke just continued staring at him in shock. His gaze dropped from Jamie's eyes to his lips and something stirred in Jamie's gut.

Jamie's head hurt. He thought it was going to explode along with the next firework. Say something, Luke, he thought, Please.

It only took him a second too long to realize Luke was trembling. Luke looked up at him and nervously said, “I want to get down from here.”

#nev writes #the jamie and luke show #oc writing #writing #my writing #writeblr #tehe :3 #best scene to write about them. makes my heart hammer yk #im going to be writing a bunch of scenes then piecing them together so get ready for that!!

[useless-bi-otch]

Cookies'n Cream - Chapter 31

Last chapter / MasterList / art by @aneenasevla

Chapter 31 - Part of Your World

TIMELINE: This chapter takes place at the same time as Heavy Bakery’s Chapter 33, under a different POV. You can read it here

.

Thankfully, the building where the match would take place wasn't even ten minutes away from the hospital where he was. Okubo sighed, parking the car, now more angry than sad. Ooooh, when he had the chance to be alone with that bleached fucker, he was going to beat the ever loving shit out of him…

"It's easier for you to get said beating when those three figure out what you had to give up to come here..."

Okubo told his conscience to shut the fuck up. It was already difficult not to collapse right there, only his anger and anxiety for his friend's situation moving his legs, making him practically march towards the building's entrance, which was a place whose construction had been paralyzed indefinitely. He circles around, looking for the back entrance. There, under the shade of some trees, was a pair of frowning security guards guarding what appeared to be an emergency exit.

Okubo headed there, and he didn't have to do anything, the guys already knew who he was. They just moved away a little for him to enter, which he did almost at a run, snorting like a rabid bull. He noticed that there was a ladder that went down, so he went down, down, down… and found the immensity of the place strange… Ohh, it was an anti-storm sewer. As it was nearing the end of summer, the place was quite dry, and therefore safe for a Kengan match. He had to admit, the locations were always pretty unusual.

He soon heard the rising, vibrating sound of several voices, all speaking at once, excitement hovering in the air that smelled of sweat, cigarettes, expensive perfume and alcohol. Not to mention the distinctive smell of sewage, which was literally shit, but which served to distract him from his thoughts. It didn't take long before he saw a small crowd gathering, forming a circle around an area next to one of the huge pillars, where the fight was likely to take place.

"Excuse me… I'm comin' through…,' He was muttering, trying to find gaps to get into the middle of the crowd, taking advantage of his large size. He looked around, looking for familiar faces, familiar voices...

“…did you give him the address?,"  And those familiar voices finally reached his ears, closer and closer.

"Yeah, he texted me about ten minutes ago."

"Damn it, I can't stop wondering whether or not this was a good idea..."

"Would you rather he heard it from someone else, Kaneda? The news of the fight would spread within the association, and he'd be pissed if he found out that we kept it from him. I'm already tired of this drama..."

“Yeah, me too,” Okubo says, slightly louder for the other two to hear. And Kaneda and Himuro turned around and saw him with a very serious face. "I'm here. Where's that secretive motherfucker?"

"Okubo!," Kaneda exclaims, moving forward quickly. "You're right on time. Rihito's fight is about to begin..."

"The idiot is getting ready in one of those rooms that used to be used to keep cleaning supplies inside the building," Himuro explains, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pants pocket. "We talked to him a little, and then he told us to piss off because he needed to concentrate..."

"Oh, I know," Okubo crosses his arms. "Now he needs to concentrate, right? But when it comes to ignoring bureaucratic service, he's the fucking bast. I came running to help, but you can be sure I'm pissed as fuck."

"See? I told you…," Himuro snorts, lighting the cigarette and taking a drag. Kaneda sighs.

"We know, Okubo, and that's within your rights... but you know Rihito didn't do it out of stupidity. You were going to meet your girlfriend's parents, and this is serious business he didn't want to ruin."

"I SAID THAT…!," He stops, breathing deeply, and then normalizes his voice. "I said that I could postpone the meeting, I said I could make an excuse and put the blame on my coach, whatever. But nooooo, he had to leave me in the fuckin' dark- do you know how ridiculous that is?! I could’ve met Tomori's parents any other week! They’d understand!"

“We told him the same thing, but he wouldn't fucking listen!," Himuro growls, blowing smoke through his nostrils. "You know how that bastard gets when he puts something on his head, man. Nobody can change his mind, not even by trying to beat it outta him," He sighs. "Now there's nothing we can do. Leave the beating for after this match."

“Yes, and you bet it'll happen,” Kaneda nods. And then he asks, worried, "But what about Tomori? Himuro turned white when he realized that she was by your side during the call..."

"…," Okubo sighs, his emotions returning, but he holds them back, putting his hands on his hips, lowering his head, uncomfortable. "I told her everything."

Himuro and Kaneda widen their eyes. "What?!"

"Holy shit, man," Himuro puts his hands on his head. "Did she start questioning you after the call? That's it?!"

"Yeah, I was in the car with her," he waves with his hand. "Then I saw you calling, and you never call, so I thought it was an emergency and I answered it. And it was an emergency, but you spoke and then she heard everything."

"I didn't know she was with you in the car!," Himuro justifies himself, almost dropping his cigarette. "I thought you were still at the party and that you excused yourself to answer it, not that you were already leaving!"

"There was an emergency, we were going to the hospital, her father has heart problems and he felt sick. I still don't know what happened to him, but I hope he's okay…," He was worried. He didn't know how Tomori's father was doing, but he doubted she even wanted to talk to him.

"Huh? Is this serious?," Himuro widens his eyes. "Did your girl's father seriously decide to have a heart attack the very first time you decide to visit?! Holy shit, Egghead, the universe sure as hell can't make up its mind with you! First it fills you with luck, then throws you into a streak of bad luck…”

"Don't talk like that, Himuro," Kaneda huffs, disapproving. "But dammit, Okubo… I hope it's nothing serious. But that explains why Tomori didn't come, we thought you'd end up bringing her along, after having no choice but to tell her the truth."

“It was some crazy stuff. Now… I think the match is about to start and- Oh, look, it's Ohma. True, he's going to fight today…," he smiles, but they both notice that he doesn't really look happy. On the contrary, his chest retracted, his shoulders lowered… It wasn't normal for him. "How about we go greet him, guys?"

"Uh… sure, let's wish him good luck too," Kaneda nods, Himuro and him exchanging a dismayed look. "Okubo, is everything okay? Did- Did her father feeling sick during your first visit affected you that much?"

"Uh, more or less," Okubo blushes, as he walks towards Ohma. "I don't know what happened to him. The old man is one of those stubborn people who doesn't like taking medicine and thinks he's invincible. Tatsu, Tomori's brother, started insisting that I show them some of my moves with him as a volunteer, then insisted so much that it pissed me off enough to accept. The old man literally felt sick from laughing so hard," He laughed a little, mostly because of the ridiculousness of the situation. "Blood came out of his nose and everything, so we got desperate and ran to the hospital."

Himuro laughs out loud, while Kaneda puts his fist in front of his mouth and tries to cover his laugh with a cough.

"Oh my goodness, hahaha...!"

"So technically it was your fault? Holy shit, if everything ends well, Rihito will love to hear that story," Himuro shakes his head. "The day Okubo almost killed his girl's dad the same day he met him, hahaha!"

"Himuro, you shouldn't laugh at this..."

"Shut up, you hypocrite, you're laughing too!”

"Yeah, but it would've sucked if I'd killed him for real. Tomori, besides being hurt as she already is, would threaten me with death…," he gets closer and looks up. "Hey, Ohma!"

Ohma turns from where he was, a little too quickly, and looks at the other three. "Oh. It's you guys," His tone came out a little dry.

"Jeez, what's up, bro? Are you pissed about something?"

"Yeah. I am. Not with you though," he looks somewhere in the doorway, then at them. "Have you come to see my match?"

"Yes, Rihito's too," Kaneda nods. "He's going to fight today."

"Oh, I see…," Ohma looks around. "And where is he?"

"He is…," Himuro starts to say, but he is interrupted by the sound of several voices roaring with excitement in unison. As they turn around, they see one of the Kengan association referees stepping into the middle of the circle, which immediately widens as the crowd collectively steps back to open the diameter. Kaneda's eyes widened a little.

"Rihito's match is about to start! I want to see it closer..."

“Shit! Do you want to see it too, Ohma?"

"I will, but I can watch from here just fine." He leans against a box in the corner, arms crossed. "You can go."

Okubo is surprised but nods and goes with the others. A part of him desperately wanted to cheer Rihito on, while another part wanted to step into the makeshift ring and beat his ass himself.

"You asshole... if you lose this one, I swear I'll punch you until your nose comes out of the back of your head!"

"Fighters!," The Referee raises both arms. "Assume positions!"

"Here he comes!," Kaneda exclaims. And sure enough, from the left side of the ring, there came Rihito, barefoot and wearing only his leopard-spot-print shorts. And he wasn't smiling, baring his teeth menacingly like he usually did. Okubo couldn't remember ever seeing him so serious and tense before a fight.

"Yeaaah… he's going to the slaughter," Himuro comments. "Let's see what he's going to do.”

"And who is his opponent? Oh, damn...," Kaneda hisses through clenched teeth when Rihito's opponent enters from the right side. The guy was huge, easily surpassing seven feet in height, with the build of a grizzly bear and probably an equivalent weight. He had black hair cut short, a bearded chin, and a scar running diagonally across his face from his left cheekbone to the right side of his jaw. And from the look of it, he was just as interested in getting this over with quickly as Rihito was.

"This one is Okada Shinsuke. He joined the Association last year, from what I've heard," Himuro takes another drag on his cigarette. "Even though he's technically a rookie, he's already accumulated six wins, with no losses in between."

"That is, an opponent that Rihito cannot underestimate," Kaneda frowns. "And the worst of all is that he seems tense…"

"Yeah, no fucking wonder...," Okubo tightens his arms, frowning. "There's things at stake, many important things..."

"You two know the rules! I want a fair fight, you hear me?," The referee commands, and both nod, serious, measuring themselves with closed expressions. "In position... Beeeegin!," And he lowered his arm, the open space filling with roars of encouragement that echoed like in a baseball stadium.

Rihito is the first to step forward, aiming a powerful side kick into the crooks of his opponent's knees, his teeth clenched. Okada plants his feet on the ground, wincing at the pain but immediately countering with surprisingly fast punches for a man that size, one of which narrowly misses Rihito's face. The audience, as usual, went wild.

"Cave his fuckin' face in, damn it!"

"Show us the Razor, Superman, give him another scar!"

"Show him, Okada!," A man in the middle of the crowd, smaller and better dressed than the disheveled men around him, applauded with a mischievous smile. "It’s high time someone kicked that cheater out of the Association…"

Lihito grits his teeth harder, a vein standing out in his temple. This distracts him for a few seconds, and he almost gets punched by his opponent. He dodges in time, but feels he has let his guard down for an attack of opportunity, and gets a knee right in the stomach. The blow left him breathless, his eyes wide. Okubo grits his teeth, feeling the pain.

“Come on, man, you can do more than that,” he murmurs tensely.

"Ahahaha! You became a businessman, let the profit get to your head and neglected your own training, right?," The well-dressed man chuckled while the audience roared and cheered around him. "Going back to being just a fighter would be the best thing for you, so just let Okada put you in your place already!"

"What's with that asshole?," Himuro grunts, shouting in sequence, "Get up, Rihito! You're leaving your flanks unprotected, damn it!"

"I have no idea, it must be another businessman," Kaneda clenches his fists, also shouting, "Focus on the legs, the legs! Try to throw him off balance!"

Lihito tried to do just that, but Okada seemed more prepared now, bending his knees to not give his opponent any openings as he continued to attack. He still looked like he was in pain, so Rihito's blows still left an impact, but it didn't seem to be enough to give him any significant advantage.

"Son of a bitch... stop kicking and attack me like a man!," Okada roars, advancing towards Rihito in an attempt to grab him in a bear hug, and almost succeeds. Okubo, Himuro and Kaneda scream in alarm when Okada manages to grab him by the side, putting pressure on with his arms, and they even hear ribs creaking, dammit...!

Rihito seems to go blind with pain for a few seconds, his eyes glazed over. And then, with a roar, he thrusts his head forward, hitting Okada's face with his forehead. The big guy immediately lets go of him, clutching his bloodied nose as he snarls in pain.

"You fucking bastard...! You're dead meat, you piece of shit!"

There were more deafening roars from the audience, shouting unintelligible things as Rihito tried to catch his breath, panting. Holy shit, he didn't even look like himself...! And Okubo just couldn't stand it.

"Damn it, Rihito!!," He screams, his hands cupped in front of his mouth. "What the fuck are you doing?! Show him hell, Superman!!"

Rihito's eyes widened when he heard his voice, turning his head to the side immediately. And he freezes in place, astonished, as their gazes meet.

"Okubo...?!"

And he is interrupted when Okada's leg comes full speed towards him, hitting him full in the side of his body, hard enough to throw him sideways to the ground, right on top of his left arm. And a collective roar goes up in the crowd as the bigger man uses that opportunity to straddle him and try to cover him with a hail of punches.

"Rihito!," The other three idiots scream together, "Holy shit!"

"Aaargh...!," Rihito raises his arms in front of his face in an attempt to defend himself from the punches; the screaming was such that his ears ached and rang. And the asshole in the suit just laughed all the while.

"That's right, stay there on the dirt, where you belong!"

"Son of a...! Get up, Rihito! Resist, dammit!," Okubo screams at the top of his lungs. "Use your hips to unbalance him, make him dismount! You can't fucking give up now!"

"Come on, Rihito, react! He opened gaps in his lower body!," Kaneda even jumped, swinging an arm, while Himuro flicked his cigarette in the air.

"Use your legs, damn it! We didn't come all this way to see you lose! Get up, asshole!"

They could see, as if in a trance that slows everything down, the fire starting to return to Rihito's eyes, his sharp canines grinding as if they wanted to bite, tear flesh, tendons...

“Get up, you bastard, get up! I'll forgive you for lying to me if you get up!,” Okubo thought almost desperately. “I screwed up one of the best things that happened to me for you, damn it! Make it worth it, you-”

"GET UP AND FUCKIN' FIGHT BACK! GO RIHITOOOOO!," they all hear a scream in the crowd. "Don't just stand there, beat his fucking ass, damn it!"

Okubo looks ahead, towards the voice, and doesn't believe what he's seeing.

"Guys… are you seeing what I’m seeing?!," Okubo points out, holding Himuro and Kaneda by their shoulders, almost as if supporting himself so as not to fall.

And on the other side of the circle, right in front of them and seeming to stand out from the crowd even though she was so small, there she was. Her hair was even thicker and messier, her pretty face sweaty and flushed as if she'd run like a madwoman to get there in time, her expression twisted in a triumphant fury that didn't seem to suit her.

But it was still Tomori. No doubt.

"Tomori?!," Kaneda and Himuro shout, stunned, while the audience screams when Rihito, with a roar, throws his hips to the side, managing to knock his opponent off. And he takes advantage of his confusion to hit him on the side of the head with a circular kick, practically throwing him to the side, in an exact imitation of what had been done to him.

"THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!," Tomori yells, punching the air. "That's what mommy likes, dammit! Give 'im hell, Rihitooo!"

"Go, boss! Beat his motherfucking ass!," More familiar voices scream, and they all see at that moment that Tomori was being flanked by Ivan and Komada, Rihito's two employees, as if they were acting as her bodyguards. "We took a while, but we arrived!"

"Yeah! Win this one for the sake of our jobs, please!"

Okubo rubs his eyes, still in disbelief, blinking and gaping. This... this could only be a dream. Tomori was there, cheering, like the fanatic that she was, as if she was a regular attendee. He feels an unfathomable urge to smile, and he does, feeling his cheeks damp and his chest sink in, but in a good way. He feels his feet moving by themselves, from behind the crowd, still looking at Rihito, but trying to go to her side.

He wanted to cheer for his friend, yes, but cheering with her was even better.

Rihito, meanwhile, seemed to have completely renewed himself. He spits some blood onto the floor, cracks his neck and smiles. The fierce, scary smile they all knew so well.

"Sorry mate, but there are too many people rooting for me. If I lose now, I'll be fuckin' hanged. You understand, right?"

Okada growls angrily and charges like a bull.

"Fuck off, you piece of shit!"

And the fight goes on, even more brutal, but this time, Rihito's strikes were much more firm, decisive and technical, and soon Okada found himself being dominated, forced to go on the defensive. The businessman shrieks indignantly.

"What the fuck, Okada! Don't let that dirty mutt get the upper hand, you're far superior to him, you-"

"Mutt is that roadkill you call hair!," It's Tomori who snarls in response, and the man's eyes widen, stunned, when she flips him the bird. "Have you ever watched a real fight in your life?! Rihito has much more technique! This match is as good as won, so shut your pie hole and just watch!"

Ivan and Komada laugh heartily when the man blushes indignantly.

"Why, you vulgar little girl! Who do you think you are, you-"

"She's my girlfriend, shithead," Okubo snarls at the businessman. "Mind your tongue when talking about her, or we'll have three matches instead of two today."

Tomori turns to him, surprised, as the businessman turns white as a sheet. He takes a couple of steps away, his legs a little shaky.

"O-Okubo Naoya? You can't threaten a businessman, you stupid gorilla! Do- Do you want to be penalized by the association?!"

"I don't know, I already broke some rules today…," He touches Tomori's shoulder, frowning threateningly. "Are you going to give me reasons to break others?"

The man swallows hard. And then he slips through the crowd, all crouched, walking like he's shit himself. Ivan laughs with satisfaction.

"Well done, no one could stand that svoloch¹ anymore."

"And this girl here is your girlfriend, Okubo?," Komada asks in surprise. "We thought she was with Rihito..."

"Nah, Rihito is just a friend…," Tomori smiles at Okubo, panting, her hair sticking a little to her forehead because of the sweat. "This is my boyfriend."

Okubo smiles, looking at her, disbelieving his ears. It was as if his face was going to tear at the sides.

“YEEEES! I'm still her boyfriend!"

He hugs her sideways, trying to contain the sudden emotion, the relief. Was there anything more motivating than that?!

"Thank you…," he says only to her, then he raises his voice. "Come on, Tomoh, let's help this idiot finish this bastard once and for all," and he starts screaming. "Go, you son of a bitch, finish him off! Break that motherfucker!"

"Smash his face, don't show him any fucking mercy!," She screams too, and on the other side of the circle, Himuro and Kaneda could only laugh, disbelieving.

"A match made in fucking Heaven, Kaneda, just as you said."

Rihito no longer heard any of what was happening around him. He kept attacking Okada, pushing him further and further back, forcing the audience to move away so they wouldn't be hit. Okada growled and snorted, getting more and more cornered and looking furious about it.

"Bastard...! It's not just you who's good at foot work!"

He swings his leg around for a roundhouse kick, grinning as he feels it hitting flesh hard.

"Did you like that, you...?"

And then Okada's eyes widened, shuddering as he realized his leg had caught Rihito's hand, raised to protect his face. Rihito holds it, smiling almost maniacally.

"If I liked that? I loved that!"

And in a rough, incisive move, he throws his arm all the way down, his fingers hard and bent as if they were exposing claws.

Okada staggers back, gasping, paralyzed in mild shock. And then the audience goes wild as blood, red and thick, squirts from the huge gash in his chest like a fountain, staining the floor, pillars and even the clothes of the nearest unlucky ones. The man falls to the ground, screaming and shaking as he clutches his chest.

"Damn it, there's the Razor's Edge!"

"Where is the medical team? He's bleeding like crazy!"

"Yeah, that's what we fucking came for!"

The medical team immediately rushes to Okada's aid, while the referee, sweaty and out of breath, raises an arm in the air.

"It's over! The winner is Rihito!"

Rihito throws his arms in the air, roaring in triumph as he takes the audience's ovation. Himuro and Kaneda yell too, throwing punches in the air. Okubo also raises his arm high. 

"Fuck yeeeeees!!!!!," he yells at the top of his lungs, while Ivan and Komada go straight to hug their boss, lifting him in the air, too happy to care about anything else.

“That’s it! He saved the fridge!,” then he looks at Tomori and she looks shocked. He stops at once. "Tomoh? Are you okay?"

She doesn't respond right away, her eyes wide, her face a little pale. She swallows hard.

"What... What was that? How did he...? My God, so much blood...!"

“Oh… I told you these matches were brutal,” he tells her, trying to sound reassuring. He didn't know exactly how, but he had to try. "It was… it was one reason why I didn't want to bring you along, Tomori. The carnage here runs wild... sorry..."

She takes a deep breath, in and out, pressing her hands to her chest. And then shudders, shivering.

"Yeah, you... you weren't exaggerating... what kind of trick was that? He just made a one-arm movement, and then… damn, I don't understand anything," She shakes her head. "Come on, let's- let's just go compliment him, please…"

"Uh… yeah, let’s go…," he babbles, not quite knowing how to act, almost as if he couldn’t understand that she’s there. "I think he can explain it better to you, if you want to...," then rationality comes back like a rubber band. "But... no, seriously, how did you get here?!"

She also seems to wake up from the shock, staring at him in surprise. And then she turns red, playing with a lock of her hair.

"Ahaha, so… I forgot my phone in your car. I only noticed inside the hospital," She looks to the side, pouting. "And I thought I wouldn't be doing anything wrong if I tracked my own number with one of those apps..."

"Huh?!," Okubo blinks. "So you tracked me with your phone?!," he takes a step to the side. "Now it's official, woman, I'm afraid of you, ahaha."

"Hey, I tracked my phone, which I, by the way, didn't forget on purpose," She points at him, puffing out her cheeks. "I… I wanted to see this for myself. I felt like I wasn't going to understand, to accept it, until I watched a match like that. And if you didn't take me, then I'd take myself."

He was silent for a few seconds, thinking about what she said, as they headed to the makeshift ward. "I… I knew you'd be impressed, and I was afraid that it would make you… you know… give up on me. You have every right to do so, but I…," sighs, defeated. "I got anxious… I'm not brave when something very important to me is at stake."

"… I disagree," She says after a few seconds. "Because you were honest with me, even with the possibility that I wouldn't accept it and decide to break up with you. And you still came to support Rihito, even with that fear troubling you. You need a lot of courage to do that. And to be a great friend too."

He widens his eyes, blushing, and then he smiles, looking away, scratching the back of his neck. "Ah… I… I hope so. I had to be here. And here we are… I hope all of this… uh, well… has at least clarified what kind of person I am. This is my dark side, Tomori. This…," He opens his arms, as if showing her. "This is the underworld, and it's a part of me, just like Ultimate Fight is. My friends are from here, and they are the best. Would you… would you accept this dark side of me too?"

She looks at him with an unfathomable expression, again seeming to see right through him. And then she sighs, smiling with some exasperation.

"You accepted my dark side, right? It's only fair that I do the same with yours," She sighs again, more deeply. "The truth, Naoya... is that I wasn't exactly mad that you were part of something like this. I was more upset because... well... because I allowed myself to be vulnerable and let you see a side of me that I don't show very often. I was upset to think that you weren't doing the same, opening up to me like I had to you. I... I want to be part of your world as much as I want you to be part of mine," She holds his hand, looking at him with those huge eyes, warm like melted chocolate. "Even the things that aren't so right... because that dark side of mine also likes those things, haha."

He exhales in a weak laugh, hugging her sideways with the same arm she held. "I'm glad for that, Tomoh… and relieved as fuck too…," Okubo remembers. "Oh yes… what about your father? Everything okay with him? Well, if you're here then I guess it wasn't that serious, but still..."

"Don't worry, he's fine. It was a hypertensive crisis," She nods, letting him put an arm around her shoulder as they walk through the dispersing crowd, heading towards where their friends are. "He was still being treated when I left the hospital, but Mom commented that it was a matter of time because he keeps forgetting the medicine and not following the diet the doctor prescribed. He's going to get an earful, a new dosage of diuretics and a free visit to the nutritionist every fortnight to regulate his diet. He wasn't happy when he found out he's going to have to give up the beer until it stabilizes," She comments with an air of laughter.

He sighs in relief again. "That's good to know. Now…," he looks at the place. "Let's see how our other stubborn fella is doing."

"Yes, let's go. But... what about the other guy?," She looks over her shoulder, a little worried, at the pool of blood that Okada had left behind when he was taken to the makeshift ward. "Will he be okay? That was a lot of blood, dammit..."

"He'll be fine. Worse things happened at a Kengan match," he waves his hand. "And the medical staff is the best in all of Tokyo. There are pharmaceutical and medical insurance businessmen here, sponsoring everything."

"Holy shit, this really is more than just a back alley fight club where rich people place bets, right?," She makes a face, looking to the side. "To think that so many influential and important people are part of this... probably even the police are involved in this, right? My God...," She sighs tiredly when he nods. "It's too much for my head to process. I'm going to need some time..."

"I told you, Tomoh. It's a lot to take in," he walks into the ward. It was basically a cleaner stretch, higher up, of the sewer, where very sophisticated stretchers for something improvised were there, with equipment from a mini-ambulatory. And Rihito was on the first of the gurneys, being treated for bruises by a doctor, Himuro, Kaneda, Ivan and Komada watching from the sidelines.

"Thanks, dude, but I think you better go take care of that Okada guy," He commented, shuddering every time his injured parts were touched. "His blood spilled even on me..."

"And whose fault is that, huh?"

"Mine, I tried to be practical and make him more symmetrical, giving him a scar that went in the same direction as the first one, hehehe!"

"He barely saved his company and his position as a businessman and already went back to making stupid jokes…," Himuro comments. "Didn't even wait a day…"

Rihito frowns at him.

"You have no right to demand anything from me, Himuro. Not you and not that lil' fucker," he points at Kaneda.

"Jeez, I didn't say anything! Is this how you thank the friends who came to support you?"

"This is how I thank two bigmouths!," He points to the two of them this time, indignant. "I told you not to tell Okubo about my match, damn it! And on top of that he brought Tomori with him, that big head…"

"I didn't bring anyone!," Okubo raises his voice to him, approaching the makeshift bed. "She came on her own and because she wanted to. And I didn't say where I was. And you!!," he points to Rihito. "You hid your match from me! I said I could postpone meeting her parents, you fucking idiot!"

Rihito's eyes widened, his mouth opening but not making a sound. Himuro and Kaneda just watch in silence, serious, as Ivan and Komada exchange confused glances.

"Huh… can someone explain what's going on here?"

"I'll explain," It's Tomori who speaks, approaching the stretcher too. "Rihito hid from Naoya that he had a match scheduled for the same day as my father's birthday party, to which he had been invited. He didn't want Naoya to miss out on meeting my parents. But then Himuro called him, told him the truth and he decided to come," She looks at Rihito. "And I decided to come too."

Rihito swallows a little, frowning and staring at his legs stretched out on the stretcher. He snorts and frowns at Himuro next.

"Did you tell her too? Are you fucking high or something?"

"I didn't know she was listening at the time, damn it," Himuro grunts. "But yeah, she knows now, so whatever. And I won't apologize, Okubo wouldn't forgive you if he missed your match and found out later."

"Yep. You needed him here, Rihito, as much as you needed us and these two,” Kaneda nods at Komada and Ivan.

Rihito growls a little, hating being cornered. The doctor, having satisfied himself that he was all right, decided that this was a good time to make a strategic exit, quickly pulling away from the stretcher. Rihito took that opportunity to raise his voice.

"I should be the one deciding that, not you, damn it! And you!," He turns to Okubo. "What the fuck are you doing here? And with Tomori, no less! You were supposed to be at her parents' house, having a fraternization of in-laws or whatever they call that shit these days..."

"I was having one until her dad looked like he was having the beginning of a heart attack and we had to rush to the hospital!," Okubo points back. "But that's beside the point, the old man is fine, what matters is that I was going to take Tomori to the hospital and suddenly Himuro dropped a bombshell on me! You could have told me!"

"What- heart attack?!," Rihito's eyes widened and he looked at Tomori in astonishment. She waves her hands quickly.

"At first we feared it was the case, but it turned out to be just a high blood pressure spike! He'll be fine, he just needs his meds and some rest," She guarantees. "And when Himuro called and said those things… Naoya ended up having to tell me the truth. And at the same time he said he needed to go watch your match," She runs a hand through her hair. "And seriously, I... I wouldn't have been upset if he had declined the invitation because he had another matter to attend. There'd be other opportunities for him to meet my parents. But an opportunity to support you in a complicated and crucial moment... well, he'd only have this one…”

Rihito stares at her with his mouth agape, blinking a few times. And then he grits his teeth, muscles straining as he grips the plastic lining the gurney.

"Damn it, I... I already screwed things up for you guys once! I wasn't going to do that again!," He justifies himself, turning to Okubo. "And you are already an anxious wreck, I thought it'd only get worse if I made you think I was making you choose between me and your girlfriend! I don't want to do this. Fuck, I...," He stops shouting, shrugging, looking lost. "I thought I was doing the right thing, that's all."

Okubo shakes a little, tense. "Bro… It was all set for me to say things, everything was organized, I had even made mental notes to tell Tomori everything, but you had to be…," he pauses, Rihito cringing with his scolding, but he takes a deep breath and normalizes his voice. "You just had to be my best friend, right?"

The tension slowly leaves Rihito's body as he realizes what Okubo had said. His green eyes get even bigger, even seeming to ripple. And then he snorts and turns away, his bottom lip quivering almost imperceptibly.

"Stop- Stop with this sissy shit! I- I just did what you would've done for me too, no big deal..."

"I know, that's why I'll thank you," he sighs. "Now I think that… things are more or less resolved. You managed to win the match, Tomori knows everything and accepts it all," he turns to her. "I think…? Anyway, I'm fine. I don't have an ounce of anger anymore. Just let me know next time, I'm anxious but you shouldn't hide shit from me because of it, otherwise I'll get worse. And about the fine…," he crosses his arms. "I'll help you pay it," he raises a hand when Rihito opens his mouth. "No, you won't make a peep about that! If your company goes bankrupt, there will be no reason to have saved it, right? Accept it as an investment."

"We told you, idiot," Himuro snorts as Kaneda lets out a small sigh of relief.

"I'm glad this is finally over..."

Rihito now definitely looked like he was about to cry. He sets his mouth in a hard line as Ivan and Komada rush closer, agitated.

"Take it, Rihito, even if it's only half of the total!," Ivan encourages. "Then you'll have less weight on your shoulders and you'll be able to work more calmly."

"And fight too, because this one was very close!," Komada nods. "The debt that remains, we'll help you pay as best as we can, even if it's with more work."

Rihito shakes his head vehemently.

"No! I'm not gonna make you work overtime to pay off a debt that was my fault in the first place, guys..."

"Don't give us that 'no' crap, we'll help you and that's it, cyka blyat²!," Ivan crosses his arms, and Tomori had to admit, it was pretty funny to see employees giving ultimatums to their boss. "Get a grip, you gave us a job when we were at rock bottom! Do you think we wouldn't want to reciprocate in some way?"

"Ivan..."

"Okay, accept my help as payment for almost killing me that time, then," He points to the huge scar on the side of his neck. "Is that good enough?"

Rihito grunts, hiding his face in his hands, and they could well imagine it was because he was ashamed of tears.

“Uuh… yeah, fine! If- If I really don't have a choice..."

"... Huh? He almost killed...?," Tomori, who was already getting emotional, widens her eyes too. "My God, where did I get myself into…"

"I told you," Okubo rolls his eyes. "This is a shit show…"

Rihito seemed to remember that Tomori was there. He looks at her, all embarrassed.

"Uh... so, it wasn't Okubo who brought you then?"

"No. He left me at the hospital before coming here," Tomori explains. "Then I realized that I had forgotten my phone in his car, so I borrowed my sister-in-law's phone to do some tracking."

Her, saying that with complete calm, was probably what completely stunned the men.

"You tracked his phone?!," Himuro and Kaneda exclaim, to which Rihito points indignantly at her.

"See? I told you they're worse than a detective when they decide to investigate shit! But seriously, how did you get in here? There are security guards at the entrance..."

"I know! I tried to explain myself in the beginning, saying that I was with Naoh and you guys, but they didn't seem to believe me...," Tomori blushes, scratching the back of her head, "Damn, I thought I was gonna have to... I don't know, show 'em my tits or something like that to be able to go in, hahaha!," She laughs out loud, almost hysterical, ignoring their astonished expressions. "But then these two arrived and helped me, one of them even being Ivan Karaev, the Russian Reaper himself!," She smiles at Ivan and Komada. "Thanks again!"

"You're welcome, miss," Ivan waves with one hand, all happy for being recognized, while Komada smiles, all flushed. "We heard you giving Rihito's name to security and we thought you were a friend of his. It wouldn't hurt to lend a hand if the boss had his eye on someone," He laughs. "We just didn't expect you to be baldie's girlfriend."

"Yeah… I'm just a friend of these three," She smiles more tenderly. "And that's why I came too."

Okubo stared at them angrily, but then stopped, relieved that she didn't show them anything after all. But just thinking about her doing that made his blood boil...

"You see that, you jerk?," He mutters, crossing his arms. "She cares about you too."

"Of course I do! Aren't we friends now?," She smiles at Rihito. "That fight was great, Rihito! I- I still don't quite understand what you did at the end, and all that blood made me a little nauseous, but it was still amazing! I will definitely want to see more of your fights! From all of you," She smiles at the others, practically vibrating. "My God, I was right! Apart from the businessmen stuff and the risk of death, this Kengan association is a dream of mine that has come true!"

"Freaking nutcase...," Himuro and Kaneda say at the same time, affectionately, and Tomori just laughs. Rihito stares at her with the expression of someone who would kiss her on the mouth if she wasn't already committed to his friend.

"Uugh, you...!," And Tomori yelps when he pulls her by her arm, giving her a bear hug that made her gasp with lack of air. "Thanks, Tomori! And at the end of the day, I don't regret what I did, because thanks to that, you guys finally compromised! I'm so fucking happy..."

"Hey, hey, hold on! You can hug her, but if you cross that limit with my girl, you'll get your ass beaten!," Okubo threatens, half joking, half serious, while the others just laugh. Tomori ends up laughing too, patting Rihito on the shoulder.

"You're- You're welcome. But about the fact that we compromised... it was very close, actually."

"Huh?,” He looks at her, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Well... I thought for a minute that all of this might be too much for me... that it wouldn't be worth having a relationship...," She admits, trying not to feel too bad when Okubo shrinks beside the stretcher, looking upset. "Naoh understood that. And yet... he decided he was going to watch your match and support you."

Rihito releases her in surprise, looking like he can't believe it. Even Himuro and Kaneda also weren't expecting this, all of them staring at Okubo as if they had never seen a more absurd thing in their lives.

"Dude… is this serious?," Rihito babbles. "The best thing that happened in your life in recent years, according to yourself... and you came here, even knowing that she could..."

"Yeah. A few minutes ago I was thinking that I had really screwed up, that Tomori was gonna break up with me, that I'd given up… but really, I… I don't need to say anything else, you idiots! Are we friends or not?," he approaches Rihito, pouting, his eyes shining with tears wanting to come down. He averts her face, closing his eyes, reaching his hand to him. "You're my partner in crime, damn it. Of course I wasn't going to let you down."

Rihito sniffles loudly, the sound coming out like a pig's snort. He reaches out and squeezes Okubo's hand tightly, nodding like a dog shaking itself.

"Yeah! Thanks for the support, Bowling ball Head!"

"You're welcome, you bleached faggot!"

"... That's it? I could've sworn they were going to hug each other or something," Tomori comments, sounding bored, while Ivan and Komada also wiped tears from their eyes and Himuro and Kaneda shook their heads.

"If you wait for that, you'll get tired," Himuro sighs, and Kaneda shrugs.

"Yeah. Just accept that they're idiots and this will never change, it's easier."

"Shut the fuck up!," Lihito shouts. "Now that you know the whole story, you can all go fuck yourselves-"

Suddenly, everyone heard a whistle sound.

"Hey, it's the next match," Okubo says matter-of-factly, and then he widens his eyes. "Shit! The next match! It's Ohma's! Let's go watch, guys!"

"Oh, another match?," Tomori exclaims excitedly, immediately forgetting her exasperation. "I want to see it, I want... Wait, Ohma?!," She screeches, widening her eyes. "Shit, it's true! Ohma's also part of this, isn't he?!"

They all flinch, especially Okubo, who now finds himself the target of several glares.

"Fucking loudmouth!"

Okubo gets a little embarrassed. "I, Uh...," He then gets pissed. "Aaarrgh! Screw this! She's with us now, so it doesn't matter if she knows more or less," He looks at Tomori. "And I'll let you climb on my shoulders to get a privileged view."

That seemed to be enough for Tomori to swallow that other bombshell more easily. She pumps her fists in the air happily.

"Yes! I'm in!”

"That easy...?," Ivan and Komada murmur together, blinking. Rihito laughs to himself, getting up slowly to grab a shirt, while Himuro and Kaneda just nodded in agreement.

"Like we said: freaking nutcase."

 * * *

"… IT'S OVEEEER!," The referee announces. "And the winner is Tokitaaaaaa Ohmaaaaaaaa!!"

The audience cheered and the floor shook with the voices of the spectators. What a show it had been! Ohma was still undefeated, but it was a close victory, which was always one more reason for the stakes to rise and the money to roll in.

And of course, for the audience to go wild, especially those who knew The Ashura personally.

"Hell yeah, Tokita!," Rihito screamed, throwing his arms up. "You fuckin' did it! I want to see that same performance when I get my rematch!"

"Hahaha, let’s say hello to him!," Okubo laughs, still looking at Tomori on his shoulders. "I met with him before and he needed to concentrate. But now the fight is over, so we can congratulate him."

"Yeah, let's go! Damn, it was amazing! I knew he was strong, but not that much...," Tomori comments, amazed, her hands on Okubo's head to support herself. "I wonder if Kanny knows that he's..."

"That he's part of the Association?," Kaneda looks up at her. "Why? Did she and Ohma get that close?"

"I wouldn't be surprised. Tokita making friends with the owner of his favorite bakery would be expected," Himuro jokes.

"Yeah, and he has a natural magnetism for making friends, I'm not surprised either," Okubo walks with her on his shoulders, as if she weighed nothing. "And she fed him, so it's a win-win situation."

"Ahaha, yes, that's partly it, but… uugh…," Tomori sways on his shoulders, needing to hold on to his neck so as not to fall. "You- You can put me down now, love, the match's over and my legs are still working, hahaha!"

Okubo only now seems to realize the fact. "Oh, uh, okay…," he bends down for her to go down. "But I was enjoying it, ahahhaha! You can stay there whenever you want," He smiles at her. And then he realizes something. "You called me 'love'...," He grinned like an idiot.

"Uh… I did?," She blinks, blushing a bit. And then she shrugs, giving a cute little giggle. "Oh my gosh, I did! But- But it's the truth, so I won't take it back..."

"Hehehe," he smiles, hugging her from the side. "I love you too…"

The other three just stare at the couple, a bit exasperated.

"Dude, I swear to God…," Himuro starts.

"That's what we're going to have to put up with from now on…," Kaneda continues.

"Arrgh, I can't stand that sissy shit," Rihito makes a face, his tongue sticking out. "That fuckin' fag... finding a girlfriend was enough for him to became the biggest sap ever."

"You helped them, now deal with it," Kaneda laughs, and Rihito and Himuro go ahead with him. Okubo laughs, and looks at Tomori.

"So, Tomoh… I think we have a new hobby, huh?"

"Which one?," she asks somewhat rhetorically, smiling.

“Making these idiots squirm with disgust and envy when we're together."

She laughs as they walk. They arrive where Ohma was with Kazuo and Kaede.

Rihito approaches Ohma. "Hey man, what's the deal?"

Ohma apparently wasn't listening, talking to the other two, when suddenly his phone rings, and he answers it so quickly he looks desperate. "Kanami?"

The mention of her friend's name makes Tomori raise her eyebrows, like a dog's ears.

"Is Kanny calling him...?," She wonders, confused, as she approaches. They were still a good few steps away and people were still crowding around them, so it was hard to get through that sea of ​​people to get to him. "Ohma!," She tries to call amidst the noise, but...

Suddenly he hung up, grabbed the sweatshirt and bolted while putting it on. Kazuo and Kaede almost bump into him in their haste.

"What is it, Ohma? Wait!," Kazuo runs after him. "What happened?!"

"Ohma?," Okubo frowns. "Shit, what's gotten into him?"

Koga and Ryuki, who were closer, heard Kaede and looked at each other, running too. Tomori feels her spine shiver and her blood run cold. Okubo feels her shiver at his side, and maybe everyone else's, especially after they both said Kanami's name.

"Let's go," Okubo announces, while also starting to follow the other. "Guys, let's get in my car before we lose them! If Ohma mentioned Kanami and he's so desperate, it can't be a good thing!"

"Alright! Hey!," Rihito exclaims over his shoulder to a group of fighters nearby. "Let Ivan and Komada know that there's an emergency, so they won't be lost than as a goose when they come back with the beers we ordered, please!"

The small group of men noded. And after that, they all quickly followed Okubo, Tomori included, having some difficulty keeping up with their momentum, but being propelled by that foreboding feeling, creeping up her chest and squeezing her heart like an icy claw.

It was just her luck that she was fearing for the safety of a loved one for the second consecutive time, on the same night. And she could only pray that this time, like the first one, wouldn't end in tragedy.

NEXT CHAPTER

#Kengan Ashura #Kengan Omega #kenganverse #fanfiction #Okubo Naoya #Naoya Okubo #okubo x oc #kengan oc #Rihito #Himuro Ryo #Kaneda Suekichi #Tokita Ohma #Ivan Karaev #Komada Shigeru #cookies'n cream #the heavy bakery series

[fairycosmos]

Therapy is so mentally draining and also kinda a fucking scam unless you find a really good one. Paid an arm and a leg for 2 sessions only for the therapist to just kinda sit there and listen to me try to recount all my trauma as quickly as I could hoping for some kind of validation and wise insights to reassure me that I’m not a fucking freak. Group therapy might be better at least that way there’s people who can relate to u.. idk I hate my brain it’s a fuck. Stupid pain meat.

hey i'm sorry you had such a bad experience :( that fucking sucks. the price is absolutely crazy, sometimes it really does seem like a scam. i feel like there are a lot of uninvested, bored, boundary-less, money-hungry, agenda-ridden "professionals" in the field, which makes it feel like fucking hell to navigate sometimes. esp when you're already at your wits end. i get you, it really is expensive as hell and also so so emotionally tiring that simply shopping around for therapists certainly isn't as accessible or as easy as people make it out to be at all. but i will say that when you feel ready, both mentally and financially, i hope you know that it's an option you can always return to until you find what clicks, even if that process isn't as linear or as as simple as just trying on different therapists for size.

like, i haven't been in therapy for months now for basically the same reasons as you, but i'd already quit it once before going back again. and i noticed that every therapist works so individually, the dynamic is always going to be super unique depending on who you're talking to so like - i'd almost try to see it as getting a whole new form of treatment each time you go for it, rather than viewing it all as one nebulous blob of Therapy. because idk, it sounds dumb or whatever, but there is so much contained within that word, so many different avenues toward finding the version of help that will be compatible with your brain, finding the right person who can give it to you. and communicating with MH professionals about your pain/trauma does get better the more you do it, doesn't exhaust you as much, so at least there's that too. it's not hopeless, it's just hard unfortunately.

though it is like sorting through trash to find treasure, and obviously your frustration/sadness is totally justified. maybe that's all anecdotal, but what i am 100% certain of is that you're not a freak - especially for dealing with mental health issues. no matter what they look like. you could pluck 5 people off the street and i'm sure at least 3 of them would have thoughts and issues that mirror your own in some way. therapists have heard it all before, but as patients we feel like we must be the only ones who've ever lost it in this exact way before, since we don't get to see others in their most vulnerable state very often. but i think if we did, there'd be some common ground. sounds like group therapy could be really good for you - they're often a little cheaper, too. i hope you're able to look into it at your own pace. proud of you for getting help in the first place. that's fucking huge, you're doing way better than the stupid sack of meat in ur skull is allowing you to see. sending you a hug. <3 x

#anon

[threenorth]

Today's messages.

Saturn, I don't have much money to spare but every dollar is yours, I'll be flying back soon enough hopefully... I'm hoping for June. But I don't know. I can't wait to have you in my arms again, we're be dancing till the cows go moo.

Lea, I sure need a laugh the last few months have been pretty rough but I'm surviving... Some how.

Yousif, I'd ask you out but you and I are really quite busy and you don't like this long distance thing, and hopefully soon some paperwork can make it a little easier to be a little closer.

Ben, I knew from the day I met you in match 2012 that you were special. The day you hugged me I believed in love at first sight. And I still feel your butterflies in my stomach some items, but the one in my frame is one I caught.

Danny, you can video call me or message me... like i said but remember sleep is important don't fuck up your schedule mines a train wreck, at least if I go to Australia it's 3 hours different so I'll be on the money 😂.

Forrest, it's like the world dampens down and it's just a wide shot.

Quinn, you know my feelings I miss you, I also really want to kiss you harder and better than last time.

L, it's better to call and get a voice mail then someone who hangs up on you but you'll never know till you try.

Tony, I think there's a few good moments I can count on one hand and your 2 or 3 of them.

Olivia, I said I'd never leave but I guess I've had a few meltdowns and never had the time to really have time for me and try do my healing process. And now just taking each day as it comes but yknow hopefully I get this job, I'll be moving out and it would be nice if you could get a working holiday visa I'm more worried about soup and I'll need to get some injections for my allergies.

Lennon, you never left my mind or heart just everytime I saw my pain I saw you and it made me fall deeper...thanks for keeping me alive...

Summer, I feel only wiser and stronger but much the same I guess that's just living with truma but my feelings for you will never stop.

Yesterday's messages

Daytona, that's Florida I said where in Colorado so this can't be me but... I'm planning on it but sometimes life keeps getting worse and Messer, I'd send you money but you'll be sad...

R, I see you in the couples I see, I see you in the song lyrics, I see you in the movies I watch, I see you all the glimmers of my mind where you planted flowers and it's spring all year round *sneeze*

Milo, reminds me of the song the luckiest.. But I really wonder how our parrele universe self's met, I hope it's a bop.

X, I can see us adopting some strays but we can't get crazy cat lady hoarding level but enough to have like two or four (cats and dogs because no sane person in my house will have a snake)

Phoenix, in the hard times it's your love is what keeps me breathing my love for you is what keeps you alive in the hard times we call life. But these tough times, they and bad times they will past but our love remains... Infinite.

Angel, I don't need time but I do need you to help me out a little bit... I appoglized for my stupidity and you still remain... Our next significant date is march but by then I'll probably be snowed in with this new job possibly, can we make new history? Tomorrow or sometime soon... On your Sunday I have a two hour interview from 12-2 so how about 2.30?pm send me a text ?

Ben, you want me to talk to you but you don't pick up the phone, and I'm blocked on your social medias, you know I will always reply and I'm sorry I asked for what I asked, I said time and time again...and yes maybe next time I'll watch my mouth... You teach me many things but sometimes I look at the moon and think what am I supposed to be learning this time. Where's the sliver lining, and even when it hurts to hear you rip me apart before your birthday at least you still have gave me what I needed...

Anyway, the apartment I'm looking at in Australia is a little expensive and I might need to find another person to live in the apartment unless some how you and I start getting back to...

Logan, I don't know if I'd say you feel safe but you feel warm like chocolate in the soul or coffee on a cold day or rainbow after the rain, but maybe your just everything beuiutful.

Ethan, there's gonna be better kisses then that last but there's still a few firsts that I kept for you.

Grey, a million cats... Yeah Mayne not the cost might be a little to expensive. But I can do a few. But I have something better then pets to grow old with.

Eliah,

Soon... Kind of... Weer delayed.

Somethings keep getting in my way... Money and ergh... Shit.

Elijah, in the night before this was posted I had an odd dream with someone I dated once she was 5'11 her name was Louise, but she felt more like you I think my body is connected thru wrong body to the wrong person but it wasn't a dance we were how do you say.. .horazstsl tango.

I haven't seen her in bonks (years)

So I do not know why I had this odd dream but I woke up out of it like most of my gravy dreams.

Anway, off to sleep it's 1am.

Have a great thursday.

Xo

R

P.S

Feel free to call tommrow I might be at the supermarket or I'm just reading somethings I printed for my interview Monday.

[daxdraggon]

Me: oh wow cool dice! -goes to the etsy page- Dice: are 100$ Me:

#bonus onus #does anyone have recs for affordable indi dice makers? #I always find the stupid expensive ones and i'm so fucking sad

[nowayspidey]

Warnings; angst, smut and SMUT, unprotected sex.

Summary; You didn't like Peter, and you liked to humiliate him every time you had a chance to do so.

Authors note; this is the first time i do smut so pls tell me if its good so i can keep doing it ✨

• PETER PARKER X MALE!STARK!READER.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀──────────────

Temperaments heated up every time your father insisted that you train alongside Peter. You didn't hate Peter, but you didn't like him either. You even thought that he was a bit annoying and spoiled. You just felt annoyed with the presence of him near you. Typical Starks temperament.

Peter was not far behind, he knew that he was not to your liking at all, but Parker just did not seem to understand why. He didn't know anything about you, the only thing he knew was what anyone knew about the starks, a reputation for big parties that Tony seemed to have left once you and Morgan were born. But you followed the legacy of parties until you ended up with someone different under your sheets every night.

"Okay guys take a break but not to long." Tony pointed a finger as the sweat fell from their foreheads. “Jarvis monitors everything so if you spend more than the exact time i will know.

"As if that matters." You mumbled, heading towards the locker room that the Avengers base had.

"I heard that (Y/n)" Tony answered raising his voice watching you walk away. You turned around still walking backwards.

"Good, because I wanted you to know."

You wet your hands removing the sweat to wash your face, both would return to combat but you prefer to feel fresh and relaxed for minutes. When you looked up in the mirror reflection you saw Peter standing looking at you directly, he probably was going to do the same as you to wash some parts, but he was standing there looking at you seriously.

You had no problem challenging Tony, much less Peter.

"What do you want Parker." You turned around, leaning your hands on the sink, giving him that stupid little smile that you knew bothered him about you.

"Why do you hate me so much (Y/n)? Or Tony, are you always rude to people who try to be nice to you? "

"What the hell is your problem man?" You said indignantly crossing your arms, highlighting a little your muscles that Peter secretly lowered his gaze towards them. “My father and I is none of your business, or should I call you stepbrother now? I don't even know you and BELIEVE ME, I have no intention of doing so. Mind your own business, will you?

"What else could I expect from someone who wakes up with a different person every morning, because a mature attitude I don't think so." Peter challenged leaving you speechless, you were the one doing that, not him. “I have heard the rumors and stories of the incredible (y/n) stark and his magnificent reputation. But what if he's just an alter ego? And that you pretend to be the tough guy and not show that soft part of… .—

Peter couldn't finish as soon his spider sense warned him too late that danger was approaching. You pushed the boy on his shoulders causing him to bump his back against the metal lockers.

"And what about you Peter Parker." You started out with bitterness. It was your turn, Peter didn't know where he had gotten that guts, you always seemed to have them. “The classic loser who gets teased at school trying to get noticed by the girl he's in love with? C´mon Peter, you are nothing, the only thing that makes you special and why people would see you is because you are Spiderman. What else would make you special? Be a good kisser? A good boyfriend? You don't have any of that because you are alone. You are a lonely virgin.

Right on the guts. You knew it because Peter didn't bother to answer your push, he just stared at you with a combination of feelings, anger, sadness.

"Screw you man." Peter muttered pushing you with his shoulder before walking out of there.

You couldn't feel bad for him, you enjoyed the pain you caused to people you didn't like. You followed in his footsteps and when he had already left the room you heard your father's voice in the microphone of the communicator that was on the wall.

"Where´s he going? You have training. "

"He's a Nerd dad, He probably go back to his room to read a comic or something." You responded by pressing the button. “Now I'm going to do what I do best.

(.....)

You caught the shot glass between your teeth and lifted your head letting the bitter drink enter your throat in a single movement. The others started clapping and praising you like you were a party god. You threw the glass on the floor, breaking it, wiping your lips with the sleeve of your expensive shirt.

"Well? Does anyone want to challenge the leader of the parties or are you all a couple of chickens?"

You said flaunting yourself as the thrusters slowly brought you down from the air.

"I'll do it."

The metal boots hit the ground, your gaze focused on Peter and his new look that hardly made you think he was the same Peter you had humiliated at the base of the avengers. His hair pulled back, black pants, and a stylish short-sleeved shirt. The stark scholarship left money.

"Penis Parker." You said mockingly, the alcohol was starting to rise between your veins. "This is going to be interesting. Come on come up here baby. JARVIS! Serve another round.

The round of drinks increased more and more, neither of you took their eyes off the other. Neither wanted to lose to the other. Peter didn't seem to show any signs of dizziness or being drunk, and you knew why, his blood and spider abilities gave him certain advantages that you didn't have. You could already feel a minor headache.

"St..op.." You said stamping your glass on the bar when Peter was about to finish the drink. "I'm going to ... find--... another bottle.

"Sure Stark, take your time." A random boy replied patting your shoulder.

You went through the people leaving everything behind and climbed the stairs escaping from the embarrassing scene that you were going to happen if you didn't get out of there fast. With one hand on your stomach feeling dizzy you entered the closest room closing the door looking for the closest piece of furniture and contain your urge to vomit, you had to go back, Parker would not ruin your reputation.

"Looks like the legend himself (Y/n) Stark can only hold 10 drinks."

Peter entered the room putting the lock to make fun of you seeing you with your eyes closed barely catching your breath.

"If you want to vomit there is a bathroom, I can hold your hair while you are on your knees."

"Fuck off." You responded to his sarcasm. "Was it necessary to be bitten by another spider for you to bring out this manly behavior?

"Only when someone challenge me." Peter crossed his arms, that's when you realized that his school sweater hid some marked arms. You only raised an eyebrow. "And I came to prove to you how wrong you were in what you said, I wanted to enjoy that you recognized that you were wrong but I think that will not happen, right?

"In what part?"

The two were close enough now, Peter was enjoying it. Peter rubbed his half-open mouth with his lips with yours kissing them in a matter of seconds when you turned your head to the side laughing with your eyes closed. You could swear Peter's fingers were already resting delicately on your waist to draw you closer to him.

"Now are you just trying to seduce me? Please try something better and not when I just had a drinking battle with you."

"Which I won and you can't admit."

"Because of your blood type."

"Yeah, whatever."

You could feel the heat burning inside you when Peter kissed you again. You didn't even know if it was because of the alcohol or because of the sensation that he made you feel. Sensation that you wasn't going to admit that it felt good for someone who was sexually active like you.

The kiss was more and more attempt when Peter's hands were in your hair pulling it towards him with a few force and your hands were on his cheeks squeezing them while their mouths combined into one and your tongues soon found the other and make the kiss wetter than it already was. The pleasure made the surrounding weather turn hotter, Peter pulled your hair back allowing the apple of your throat to be marked and he began to kiss it along with each part of your neck.

Both soon stumbled onto the bed where you desperately sought to get rid of each other's clothes, almost tearing them up to get under the sheets. The erections soon brushed making your lips part and you glanced down with a surprised sigh as both caught your breath with slightly swollen lips.

"I thought that being your room it would be a kind of room with games or something like that."

"How many adult movies have you seen?" You asked dumbfounded, Peter turned out to be the sassy guy.

"Well when we were in Germany and I met your father I ...---"

"Peter I really don't want to know, it was sarcasm." You interrupted before he continued. "And it's not my house so I don't have my things." Peter raised both eyebrows. "What?

"You don't plan on stopping do you?"

"Do you want me to continue?"

Peter got up a bit to place a soft kiss this time on the corner of your lips.

"Okay... uhhmm.... open up."

You said taking your fingers to the mouth of Peter who opened catching them. His gaze was on your hand. His tongue moved between them, internally you bit your lip so as not to moan at the sensation and image you were seeing.

"It's enough." You mumbled after a few seconds. Peter opened his mouth and you pulled your fingers from his red lips. "Do you want to continue?

"Will you take away the honor of being with a Stark?"

You giggled in denial, with your other hand you slid down his entire left leg until he raised them to your waist and had a position. Your free hand took his member massaging it giving him a little pleasure and excitement when Peter closed his eyes leaving his mouth open, if anyone knew how to make someone feel good, it was you.

While you distracted Peter, you continued to set him up. Your fingers sought the entrance where you slowly inserted a finger to which Peter responded with a groan, the first you had heard since he entered the room. You moved it slowly and when you thought it was right, you put the second finger.

"Uh..hh ... this is ... new ..."

You smiled when you heard him trying to speak properly and not moaning. You took your fingers out after being inside it for a while and took your member licking you lip. You got him into position and to push yourself in slowly and carefully, you came face to face with Peter.

"Wow ..."

"Peter shut up." You said in a whisper rubbing your nose with his. "Does it hurt? Tell me how it feels so I can ...

"It feels perfect (Y/n)." Peter opened his eyes to meet yours. For the first time, you felt good about him. "You can...uhhmm... move.

You nodded, hiding your face in his neck, biting it and leaving marks on the points that you knew the human body was weak, you proceeded to bite the lobe of his ear while Parker sank his fingers into your bare back with one hand and with the other he pulled strands of your hair. . It was not difficult to know that taking your hair was Peter's fetish.

At first your movements were slow, you didn't want to hurt him and go fast. Slow was the way the pleasure was distributed, demonstrating it in the kisses both had while you did it. Within minutes you decided to try and go faster trying not to make noise from your skin hitting Peter's.

When you were about to reach your point, the veins were marked in your calves. You got out of Peter and you reached out to your member and started to pull it.

"Wait ..." Peter sat on the bed stopping you after straightening his hair. You let go of your hands and Peter started doing what you were doing.

Your hands were now the ones moving Peter's hair. Peter's hand moved quickly, it didn't take him long to reach your climax and release everything on his abdomen to what Peter looked at for a few seconds when he stopped.

Your heavy breathing made your sweaty chest rise and fall. Peter ran a hand over his abdomen with a surprised smirk.

"Wow. Did I really provoke this to you?"

"Don't flatter yourself, it's natural body reactions." You corrected and Peter wiped his hand with his leg taking your waist turning you now staying on top of you.

"Come on (Y/n), it's not that hard to admit some things from time to time. I want to hear it."

You remained silent, but not because of that, but because you were experiencing the sensation of your being the one that was down for the first time.

"Then I guess I'll make you say it." Peter murmured into your lips, running his fingers between them and repeating the same thing you had done with him. "God this feels so good.

You put your legs behind him arching your toes as well as your back. As soon as you felt Peter inside you, he made slow movements in and out as he bent down to kiss and bite your nipples.

Your eyes went wide than normal as you stroked his hair gently. Peter paused with his mouth still on your left nipple. You stopped your caress feeling the heat in your lower waist, inside you.

"Peter? Did you ... uhmmm ... cum already?"

Peter let go of your nipple looking at you embarrassedly with his cheeks redder than a tomato as he realized that he hadn't lasted at all as soon as he entered you. Peter came out of you slowly draining a bit of what he had released into you.

"They are reactions of the body, aren't they?" Peter mumbled sadly lying next to you where they both covered their bodies.

Peter brought both hands to his face, you turned to see him even with the awkward silence between you.

"Hey it's fine, actually.... aggg I'm going to kill you if you say this to someone." You said shaking your head, Peter slid his hands from his face turning his body towards you. "You're the first time I've ever had someone ... you know ... on top of me doing that.

"Uuuhhh, I feel, flattered I guess." One hand was under your neck and the other rested on your abdomen. Which Peter looked at in detail. "You are my first person.

You were quiet for a few seconds.

"I shouldn't have made that stupid joke that you were a lonely virgin." You spoke with regret in your soft tone. "But I enjoyed it .... and you on top of me too.

"Do you want to go out tomorrow? Like we're starting over."

"That sounds good."

"So I'll see you tomorrow at 8:00 at dellmars. The best sandwiches in Queens." Peter said cheerfully as he searched the floor for his pants. "We should do this more frequently.

"Fight or have sex?" You raised an eyebrow.

"Both."

#male reader #male!reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland #tom holland masterlist #fanfic #peter parker #tom holland male reader #tom holland fic #peter parker imagine #peter parker angst #peter parker fic #peter parker male reader #peter parker male!reader #peter parker smut

[king-star]

When the Party’s Over

Warning: Homophobia, transphobia, death, bile, guts, broken limb, crying, pet neglection, driving while slightly tipsy, fire (lmk if i need to add more. This is all around pretty dark and sad, proceed with caution)

Match: Yelena Belova x enby!Reader; Wanda Maximoff x reader

Genre: Angst, Angst, and more Angst

A/N: This is the first chapter in a series. Idk how long it’ll be. the plan is bi weekly updates. im reallyyyyy proud of this one so let’s hope it doesn’t flop. ENJOY!

Word Count: ~3,000

Summary: You have a horrible nightmare, leaving you with anxiety for Yelena. Yelena assures you that everything is fine and leaves on a mission.

Your tongue rubs the roof of your mouth in an attempt to rid itself of the sickly sweet drink you’d been sipping. A hundred intoxicated humans swirl around you. Fabric, skin, and feathers blend together, the orchestra the only thing holding off the headache behind your eyes.

You didn’t want to be here. Sure ballroom charity balls could be fun. If you had your best friends there, you could chat only with them, and dance to your heart's content. Unfortunately for you, everyone you could stand to be around was busy. Leaving you human-shieldless from your mothers many socialite friends.

The “oh my goodness Y/N I haven’t seen you since you were in highschool. How are you?” got old quick. Retelling your life story over and over was a pain especially with your mother gripping your hand making sure you didn’t slip up. Share any information that didn’t quite fit the Y/L/N dynasty image. Mostly she didn’t want you sharing about the love of your life, your girlfriend, your Yelena.

When the two of you first got together you waited nearly 5 months before telling your mother. The first time you dated a girl she had hated it. She tried to act like she was supportive, claiming “I will always love you no matter what.” But in the end she always shielded this fact from the public eye. She was supportive of all the LGBT+ movements from a political standpoint. Never her own child.

You never told Yelena about this. You claimed the reason you didn’t want to share her with your mother was because you wanted your relationship to not have paparazzi after you two. She bought it for a while but you could only keep the love of your life away from the woman who gave you life for so long. It didn’t take a master spy to understand the emotions behind the look your mother gave you when you brought Yelena to dinner. Yelena never brought it up but it was an unspoken understanding. Your mother didn’t accept you no matter how hard she tried to fake it.

Now you just wanted the event to be over so you could go home to Yelena. You flipped your wrist, checking the ridiculously expensive watch you had on.

11:31

She was definitely asleep by now. Yelena never stayed up past 10:30. Frowning, you set down your glass and turned to your mother, waiting for her conversation to end. When she finally stopped speaking she turned to you and cocked an eyebrow,

“Y/N. Are you leaving? so soon?” she pouted but enough years in her home taught you her looks. This was faked sadness.

“Unfortunately yes mother. Lena is probably asleep by now and I have work early. She probably forgot to feed our dog,” you enunciated the words that might clue in your mothers friend on how you and this woman were related. A last “fuck you mother” before you left. She smiled warningly and nodded.

“Well… you must get home to your friend. I will see you soon daughter,” she kissed your hand and you stood there frozen. Of course, she would invalidate your gender and your relationship in one comment. Your nostrils flared and you turned quickly, letting your hand smack your unfinished drink into her lap and treading off quickly.

“Fuck you mother. How someone could be so hateful to their own child I will never understand,” you muttered to yourself. You handed your ticket to the valet and stood with your arms crossed, waiting. You made sure to tip the valet an absurd amount, and drove off quickly. The only thing that would keep you from doing something stupid in retaliation was Yelena’s arms around you.

~

Nearly thirty minutes later you pulled the car into the garage. It shouldn’t have taken you that long to get home but you couldn’t help but drive with the top down for a bit. Anger and maybe a bit of fear had bubbles underneath your skin and you didn’t want to bother Yelena. You stepped out of the car and held your head in your hands. You hadn’t drank that much, but a headache would be inevitable.

Fanny met you at the door. She was obviously excited, tail wagging as she raced back to her food bowl

“ok ok girl. I’ve got you,” you rubbed her head and dumped a scoop of food into her bowl. Loosening your tie you dragged yourself to the bedroom. You smiled as the light poured in and illuminated the silhouette of a sleeping Yelena.

“Deep asleep. I’ll join you in a second,” you pulled the rest of your suit off. Picking up a discarded shirt you put it on, and leaned your head against the mirror.

“That was misery. And mother’s comment. I shouldn’t care about what that bitch thinks or says. But I can't help it,” you let out a sigh and picked up your toothbrush. Maybe someday she will accept you. But at that point would she ever be able to make up for how she treated you?

Ready for bed you slid in beside Yelena, careful not to wake her. Fanny, finished with her food, jumped into bed with you and snuggled up with a lick to your face. You smiled and kissed her head then kissed Yelena.

“night my love. See you in the morning,” your heavy lids drooped and you relaxed, setting a hand on Yelena and falling into dreamland.

~

Your thighs hurt. Fire and smoke burn your throat and eyes. You search for something. What exactly you aren’t sure. Tears stream down your face as anxiety floods your chest. If you don’t find the thing soon your world will be crushed.

A broken door, barely on its hinges, is at your right and you know that’s it. A hard turn and you smack your arm into the frame. You grasp at your wrist as more tears prick your eyes.

“Fuck!” A familiar level of pain flares and you know it’s broken. Your eyes dart around the room, still looking for that unknown thing. A pile of smoking wood sits in front of you and your feet carry you to it. This was it.

You try hard to pull through the heavy, hot wood with your one arm. A cry comes from below, an anxiety flaring familiar cry. You pull harder and uncover and dirty and bloody Yelena.

“LENA!” you shout and help her out. Her hands held her stomach. She smiles sickly and then curls in pain.

“Y/N. You found me. I hoped you would. Quick kiss me. I don’t have long,” Your eyes widen and you move her hands. The sight of her stomach makes you sick. Turning to the side you retch and vile spills from your mouth. You wipe your mouth and shake your head, tears fall hard now.

“Lena no no. You’re fine. We can fix you. Please,” you slide your arm under her and try to pick her up but she screams and goes limp in your arms.

“FUCK Y/N! stop. There's no hope. Please just kiss me. I don’t want to die without that.” you shake your head more and set her down. You refused to accept her death.

“No Yelena you are not going to die here. You can’t die. You are too well trained. a-and… I can't live without you. it’ll be fine,” She tries to raise her head but then it falls and she spasms. Your eyes widen and you do your best to hold her still but your broken wrist shoots in pain.

“No no no NO!” you kiss her over and over. Fear pulses through you and when she relaxes completely you sob. Your head aches from the pressure of your sobs and your broken wrist protests. Maybe hours pass and you sit there with her dead body pressed to your chest, her blood and guts smearing all over you.

Then guilt overtakes the sadness. She asked you for one thing. One single kiss before she died and you didn’t fulfill that. You couldn’t give her everything she deserved in life or even in her final moments.

You wake up shaking and screaming. Yelena is awake next to you, crying and shaking your shoulder violently.

“Please Y/N,” she sobs, snot and tears mix and fall forgotten. You sit up barely able to hold yourself up. She is alive.

“Fuck Yelena what’s wrong?” Your dream haunts you. You search her stomach and her whole body for major wounds. She is obviously unsure what you are doing and grabs your face forcing you to look at her.

“Y-you were shaking and screaming and crying and I didn’t know what was wrong. If you were having a seizure or what.” You shake your head and take deep breaths.

“No, I'm good. Not seizure. R-Really…” your words falter and you stare off, caught up in the memory of the dream. Yelena snaps in front of you and hugs your arm. “Ah sorry. Bad dream. really, really bad dream.” you stare at her head unsure if this was the dream or if Yelena really was alive.

“D-do you want to tell me about it?” Her arms slide under yours and she holds you from the side. You shake your head and lay it on her shoulder. “Ok but if you do tell me. I’ll hold you until you fall asleep again.”

The thought of being asleep again makes you tense up. Yelena feels it and rubs your side softly. She kisses you in every way she knows you like and pets your head.

“I’m not going to sleep. I can’t live through that again. It made me think I was going to be alone. Please don’t leave me Lena. please. I don’t wanna die alone.” She frowns and hugs you tight.

“I’m never going to leave you. I’m here baby. I’m here.” She kisses your jaw softly and you nod. Relaxing again, you wrap your arms around her waist and kiss her shoulders.

“Y-you died. There was a fire and I broke my wrist and it was smokey and you got impaled and you died. You asked me to kiss you and I couldn’t accept the fact you were dying so I didn’t kiss you. I couldn’t give you what you deserve.” She frowns and kisses you.

“No Y/N. Don’t you dare. It was just a nightmare, that’s all. I’m NEVER leaving you. ok?” She holds your face and kisses you softly. The kiss lasts a while and you melt into your touch. Fears still paralyse you every couple hours but she holds you until the sun comes up. She knows exactly what you love and how to make you feel safe. She really wasn’t ever going to leave.

~

Weeks pass. You are sure you have gotten past the nightmare. You go to work everyday and Yelena stays home going through paperwork. When you come home the two of you snuggle and bliss fills you. Your mother doesn’t ask you to come to any more charity events and you think maybe, just maybe things are good.

Then Yelena gets called on the mission. When she tells you she will be gone for a week your mind reels. You can barely see straight as the dream vividly flashes through your brain. Yelena gets worried, grabbing your hand and you back away searching her body for any sign of blood.

“No. Lena please. What if you get hurt? I-I can’t. You promised you’d never leave.” Her eyes look at you apologetically.

“Don’t worry. I’m a professional. It’s just a small info gathering job. Absolutely no danger,” she smiles at you and sets a hand on your shoulder. You back away from her hand and lean your head back to force the tears back.

“Yelena… ok. Please. Don’t get hurt,” She nods and kisses your cheek grabbing her bag.

You spend the entire week at home. Anxiety grips you so hard that you can’t stand to go to work. A fever strikes and you throw up every evening at almost exactly 10:30. Work tells you to stay at home and probably go to the doctor. Honestly you’d rather go to work so you have less time to think about her.

Most of Yelena's missions don’t allow for her to contact you and the stress of it all has your brain thinking of her the entire time she’s gone. By the time Yelena is on her way back you have dropped 12 pounds. You hadn’t eaten, only bothering to get up to feed Fanny. A cold sweat coats your skin and you hold your arms to you. Blankets were too hot, but it was too cold without them.

The alarm on your phone signalling it’s time to feed Fanny goes off. You throw the blankets off and wipe dried tears. The tv screen flashes a “keep watching screen.” You aren’t really sure when it came up but your mind hadn’t registered the tv in a couple days.

When the door clicks unlocked you scream. Silence had filled the apartment for so long and the sound was louder than anything you’d ever heard. Fanny starts barking, running to the door, then coming back and sitting at your feet.

You fall to the ground clasping the food scoop. Fanny licks your face as tears fall. Every fear that had plagued you came to the forefront of your mind. What if it wasn’t Yelena? What if it was Hill telling you to come in? No, they would call you for that. But if Yelena was dead…

Arms wrap around and pick you up, setting you on the couch. You whip your head back and forth trying to catch a glance of who it is. In the back of your mind you know it's her, but for some reason you’d been convinced over the past week that she’s dead.

A warm towel wipes away dried tears and snot, and a soft hand holds yours. Tears blur your vision but you steady your breaths. The anxiety in your chest dissipates. You lean your head back forcing the tears in and look back to catch a look at the woman you love. But, instead of long blonde hair and soft round face,  you see long red hair, falling in waves.

“Lena? Did you have to dye your hair for the mission?” She frowns and shakes her head, setting down the towel.

“Fuck Y/N. I know you can’t remember but I hate having to keep telling you this,” The voice is not Yelena’s. It’s your friends. Wanda’s. Your eyes look her all over and you tense up confused.

“Tell me what Wanda? What’s wrong with Lena?” She grabs both your hands and looks at you with the softest expression she can muster.

“The fire Y/N. Do you remember? The fire where Lena…. She bled out,” The anxiety of the dream. No memory. The smoke, your raw throat, and the hours of sobbing.

You shake your head and quick breaths fill your lungs. Wanda tries to get you to calm down. Your vision spots while your brain searches for oxygen your hyperventilating can’t provide.

“Y/N please calm down. Please. FUCK! I promised to never use it without permission but between the two of you…” Red magic flows from her hands and wraps around your head. Your breathing slows down and your vision comes back. Wanda cradles your head and hums.

You reach up and see the tear streaks on her face. Her eyes look bloodshot and dark circles are prominent under her eyes. You pout and try to hug her back. All the fears that had consumed you for weeks were now gone. Even if it was only by Wanda’s magic. You curled into her side and fell asleep. Finally able to find some peace.

~

It was the night of the charity gala. You drove home but had taken the long way around to cool off from your mothers subtle aggression. Plans on how to ignore her future advances build in your mind as you pull into the parking garage. You stepped out of the car and held your head in your hands. You hadn’t drank that much, but a headache would be inevitable.

Sirens sound from the road in front of your complex and you growl. The loud noise and lights make your head pound. You shake your keys and walk towards the stairwell. Coughing into your arm and you open the door to your floor. You throw your hand back with a scream at the hot door handle.

“the fuck…? NO!” forgetting your pain you throw open the door and run into the building. Smoke flows from under doors and fire licks at the walls. The sound of the siren gets louder from some open window. You run through the halls trying your best to not breathe in smoke. Yelena would be asleep. She wouldn’t know what’s happening.

Your apartment door is on the right and you stand back and kick the handle. Your foot hurts as it contacts the rough wooden door but it cracks. You kick again and the door falls in. Running through the door you smack your arm into the frame and cry out in pain.

Fanny barks from one of the rooms and you follow the noise letting her run free into the hallway. You hope dearly that the dog finds her way out.

The entirety of your home is consumed in flames. Beams that held up the apartment above you are on the floor. The poor old couple who was always so nice. Hopefully they had gotten out before it collapsed. Running to your bedroom you try to open the door. It gives quickly but before you can get to Yelena a strong arm grabs at your back.

“What the? HEY!” you squirm trying to slip out of the grip. You have no luck and result to punching. Nothing makes the arms let you go as they pull you from the building. Along the way down you consider it may be a firefighter saving your life.

“Please. My girlfriend, she’s still in there. Please, she was asleep. Save her. I can get out,” you plead with your “saviour”. The person doesn’t acknowledge any words or attempts of movement. They just carry you out of the building back into the parking garage. At some point you began crying, fearing for your girlfriends and your neighbours lives.

You are carried to a car and roughly thrown in. Your broken wrist, now remembered, aches and you curl into a ball. The driver doesn’t speak to you and the person who carried you doesn’t get into the car with you. You didn’t register the person in the back seat with you until they cough. Or rather She coughs.

“Oh Y/N I’m glad we got you out ok. I was so scared we wouldn’t be able to get you out before the fire got you too,” Your eyes widen at the familiar voice and you sit up looking into her eyes. The pieces fall into place in your mind. No you’d never thought she’d be this cruel. Yet here you were, Yelena and Fanny. They were in there.

“You didn’t. no no you didn’t. You are cruel and hateful but not murderous,” you pull away as a hand strokes your cheek. Hate flashes behind your eyes.

“Oh honey. You will forgive me when you realise it was for the sake of the family. Like they always say; ‘Mother knows best.’”

(So it has been decided this is going to be a series. Follow and shoot me an ask if you wanted to be added to the tag list for updates)

DO NOT repost my work. Reblogs and Likes are appreciated. If you enjoy my work leave a comment!

#yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x y/n #yelena belova fanfic #yelena belova #yelena belova angst #marvel fanfic #mcu #yelena belova x you #avengers x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff angst #wanda maximoff fanfic #wanda maximoff

[vespertineart]

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'*ੈ✩‧₊˚'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'*ੈ✩‧₊˚'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'𝓫𝓪𝓭 𝔀𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓲𝓼 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓽𝓱 𝓲𝓽'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'*ੈ✩‧₊˚'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'*ੈ✩‧₊˚'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'*ੈ✩‧₊˚

"𝔾𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕘𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕗."

Jotaro kujo x Fem! reader

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Life moves so fast. Too fast, for your liking. Maybe it's because your childhood wasn't the nicest, so you have wallowed in the sadness it brought you too much that you weren't aware of time, or the fact that you were so wrapped up in one future, you thought your life depended on nothing but academic purpose. At least then. Or maybe it's because you never realized how much you've wanted to do in your life until three years ago. You're still young, though a young adult, and you shouldn't be worried about the consequences of things you never did. Though, maybe they would affect you later on.

It's always been overwhelmingly depressing when you realize you can't relate to that flurrery feeling every one of your classmates told you about when bungee jumping or simply touching a manta ray. Never have you had the chance to visit a very famous amusement park because of how expensive it was. All of that would make you the odd one out in any friend group, which is why you never bothered to start a close friendship with someone.

However, this year was different. Let aside the fact that you missed out on all your school year's material, you experienced something far more exciting than anyone's ever had. Your mind still finds itself boggled by the sudden event. One second you're with your classmate who you knew nothing about at the time, and the next he's in jail, and you're with his grandfather trying nag get him out.

You can't even bring yourself to comprehend how you even got a grip on the whole situation, how you managed to have yourself thrown into the formula, from going to Egypt and saving Miss Holly, to fighting Dio and even almost dying with Kakyoin and Avdol who are currently in different hospitals. It all still feels so surreal.

Unconsciously, as you reminisce, your fingers brush the large scar that lays unveiled on the surface of your forearm, reaching from your wrist to your cheek, a few scabs still blanketing random edges on it. Soon, your hands found themselves reaching your currently broken and cast ankle. Your crutches lay limp on your leg. Your skin is cold, and so is the wind hitting it. For May, this is probably the longest it has taken to become warm.

"Oi, yn." You're snapped out of your daze when a certain deep voice calls out to you, a coherent tinge of worry trailing at the end of the person's greeting.

The all-familiar, stinging scent of cologne immediately assures you of who this person is. You let out a sigh, dipping your head down, eyes closed, a delightful sense of relief washing over you.

"Hey, Jojo. Thanks," you greet as you take a weak hold of the beer can your companion bought you. After a while of shuffling, both of you got your backs comfortable on the strong walls of the school's roof, taking in the cool wind as it brushes through your hair. The sun is set, but there is still a bit of sunlight left, it mixes beautifully with the soft white streetlights and spots of yellow, red and blue in the far distance which homes and billboards emit. If you focus enough, you can see a light silhouette of hills.

Jojo. Jotaro kujo. You recite that name on your tongue every night, sometimes in fear you might forget it. Some of his admirers despise you for it. For having the advantage of calling out to him whenever you want and he'd answer you, and only you. Your classmates say you're extremely lucky, like you've won a million-dollar bet for being his first and closest female friend. He's never down to open up, but from your experience, he's desperate for any type of companionship. However, the so-called advantages were never what this was all about for you. If it was, you'd know barely anything about each other, and you're glad you could become more than just classmates after the whole Egypt thing. To you, his friendship depended and revolved more around trust and means of comfort than just mainly using him for safety and assumed attention. The fact that he's truly a hard to crack shell of a man—that you somehow managed to turn into ash the moment you told him to 'get the fuck out of the jail room, you look ridiculous' —never mattered to you more than how closer you wish to get to him. Focusing in front of you again you watch the colors of the clouds merge with the dark purple of the sky. The stars are already out, and a beautiful half-moon is shining brighter than ever. You pout, disappointed of the incoming inability to see it in full display due to the sky's current cloudy state.

"Old man called me yesterday." You turned your head to Jotaro, eyes immediately locking with his. Just the simple fact that both of you go out of your ways to fully focus on each other makes your relationship all the more mutual. Jotaro, especially, he's never felt as easy with anyone as he has with you, and kakyoin, too, but he'd never say it directly to any of you . At night, when he's lost in his thought, he finds himself thinking of you. How kind you are and how you never seem to see the bad in anything despite having a bad past. He'd never admit it let alone say it with his tongue but he tries to take advantage of that kindness, in a way to make sure nothing will happen to you. He can't afford to lose anyone else. He also doesn't know if the fact that he thinks of you is more embarrassing, or the fact that he secretly wants to let his walls down in front of you one day. The thought comforts him, but, as usual, he's too meek about it, since there were many times his 'kindness' would be misunderstood as romantic intent. Well, he's doubting that, anyways, specifically with you.

"hm?" you reply, taking a sip of the refreshing drink in your hand. Your fingers wrap around each other, holding the can in a tight and secure grip. You're prone to dropping your drinks now and then, so you found this to be the most practical way of 'protecting them'. Yes, you look stupid when you end up dropping them either way. You two always get a good laugh from it, so at least there isn't any embarrassment happening.

"He was wondering if you wanted to stay with us for a couple more weeks. Mom misses you already." Jotaro exhales, smoke filling the air around you and mixing with his musky cologne to create an unbearable scent you never wanted to forget. The mention of Mr. Joestar for the third time this month makes your eyes widen. It was all for the same reason too. You lived alone for a long time now, and you've gotten very used to the lonely and eerie feeling of your dark home at night. However, of course, after meeting the Joestars, Joseph couldn't possibly leave you without pampering you so much, especially after helping with saving his precious daughter. You were grateful. You always are for what he does for you, but just enough for him to make you basically live with him is something you can't quite afford. Not money-wise, it's just that you don't have anything to give them in return, and offering your life also meant living with them. The cycle goes on.

With a grunt, you twist your form to face Jotaro, your hands pushing hard on the floor to support your frail physique.

"Jojo...I really appreciate it, but I have things to do at my house. I need to clean it, take care of the food that's been in the fridge for almost a month now. Maybe another time, but I really don't want to trouble you guys like this. You've done way too much for me already," you excuse, trying your best to scoot closer to your friend. As a final task for the day, you set yourself up on your knees and wrap your arms around the much larger man, patting him on the back a couple of times before planting a heavy peck on his forehead. "And you can stop worrying about me so much now, Joot. I'm really fine, thanks to you." A warm smile graces your lips as you speak your soft words to Jotaro, seeing his panicked eyes slowly close as he scoffs, pushing you away and hiding his rose-tinted face with the shadow of his hat.

"I'm still walking you home."

As much as you want to, you can't complain with a broken ankle. Who knows what might happen if you're too slow with walking? Over his dead body will Jotaro Kujo let anyone lay a finger on you...

~~~~~~~~~

The slow crunching of pebble and dust under heavy boots and the repetitive melody of crickets in the grass is enough to get you woozy in the freezing weather of tonight. The wind started picking up a long while ago, and you fear it might get worse before you reach your home. Clouds are grey and dull as they sway in a quick pace in the blue-black sky. The vigorous rustling of trees makes your ears tingle. Your pores are open with sweat, the droplets slowly trickling down your face and quickly drying out. Your arms over your crutches, your stomach hurting from excessive contraction, your breath becomes heavy, and your chest begins to hurt. It's been well over 20 minutes since you guys have been walking, and you're starting to hate yourself for letting Jotaro deal with your snail-paced struggle on a day like this.

Without a word, you sigh, then slowly crouch down to reach the floor. However, from how your ankle is positioned, the momentum you pushed yourself down with was faster than you anticipated, and you gasp. Bracing yourself for impact, you let go of your crutches hastily, spreading your arms in front of you to prepare support. Your eyes close tightly and you clench your stomach, a second away from hitting the concrete before feeling a soft barrier holding you up. Slowly, you open your eyes again, to find none other than Jotaro, encasing you in his large, jacket-cushioned arms. Without a chance to react, you feel yourself getting pulled up, hoisted up a millimeter high and huddled in your friend's arms again only this time in a better position for him to be able to swing your legs over to the side.

"Good grief, woman. What the hell were you doing?!" At this position, you can clearly hear the growl in Jotaro's voice. Heck, his breath is right in your ear. Inevitably, you shiver, letting out a huff of air. You feel yourself blush out of embarrassment when he gives you a side eye and you prepare to find a good answer to his question.

"Sorry, I wanted to sit down a bit...I uh..wasnt expecting to...fall-"

"Whatever, just stop talking or you'll die. And you're freezing ," Jotaro interrupts, leaning down to grab your crutches, still holding onto you. His head rests on your shoulder as he bends down, his fingers curling with ease around the handles.

Still shocked from the sudden ordeal, you start shuffling in Jotaro's arms, earning a grunt from him.

"Stay still, yn, for fuck's sake!"

"I-I can still walk on my own, JoJo!"

Annoyingly, or rather, smugly, Jotaro ignores your comment, only dragging his disagreement further by hoisting you up further so your figure is tucked snuggly between his arms. This proves his previous comment of how cold you actually are, seeing as you immediately melt into his arms, eyes almost instantly closing as you sigh, taking in the comfortable warmth of the thick fabric of his clothes.

when you look back at him, you decide not to complain any more when he raises an eyebrow at you and lets out chuckle. You just stare at the fading stars, keeping the image of his rare smile in your head along your little journey.

As you space out, your eyes having no place to stay still as the clouds move endlessly, you shake your head, feeling the pain in the back of your head from how dizzy you've become. This world is too big for even eyes to bear. you let out a mall sigh, the incoming comfort quickly cut off as you gasp. A wet droplet found its way on your nose uninvited. You look at Jotaro, expecting to see his face dotted with a bit if sweat, but that wasn't the case. Another droplet, and a third, and soon you see one slip off from Jotaro's hat. Oh... Ooooh...

Oh shit.

You gasp once more, suddenly sitting up and causing Jotaro to retract his head with a grunt.

"What the hell?!"

"Jojo it's raining!"

"And..?! Jeez you overreact."

With a pout, you hit the top of your friend's head, earning a stutter from him.

"C-can you walk a bit faster..? I can't have you getting sick, " you complain, clutching onto the chain dangling from JoJo's collar as a way to nudge him into agreeing to your order.

"That's not happening, y/n just sit back down-" As if to mock him, the clouds let out a loud clap of thunder, The rain quickly picking up with the wind. As fast as this happened, you and Jotaro are now almost drenched in water. You cross your arms, looking up at Mcedgy with a smug expression on your face.

He sighs heavily, tugging the brim of his hat and letting out his famous

"Good grief..." before wrapping his jacket around you like a stolen package and trudging quickly. A few moments pass before he starts to run.

Surprisingly, your house isn't that far away anymore. You'd expect that from someone twice your height running. Currently, your friend is huffing, occasionally spitting excess water away from his mouth.

"We're here."

He stops running, just jogging his way around a building before setting you down on the floor, waiting until you regained balance to give you your crutches back. You hiss at how cold the air is, your body quickly shivering.

You quickly find your keys from your pocket before limping to your front door and opening it with a satisfying click, taking your single wet shoe off and stepping into your house, again, cringing because of how cold the floor has gotten. As you manage to trudge to pull a shawl you found hanging on a chair, you turn back to the door, facing Jotaro again.

"Thanks for walking me here JoJo. It was definitely a pain, I'm sorry," you apologize, a wide smile on your face, rubbing the back of your neck.

"It's fine," says Jojo, already lighting his third cigarette of the day and placing it between his lips.

There's a long silence between the two of you, the heavy sound of rain and occasional thunder being the only thing breaking it. Your breaths are heavy because of the weather, and you do nothing but stare at each other. It seems none of you want to turn away for some reason. both of you are worried for each other. It takes another while before any of you finally move, Jotaro shuffling off of the steps in front of your door and turning around with a small farewell.

You, knocked out of your trance, call out to him again, making him stop. Now in your garden, completely soaked, Jotaro turns his head to you. His cigarette is barely lit anymore.

"Umm...I just realized your house is too far away," you start, catching your friend's attention. He slowly walks back to you, shoving his hands in his pockets. He only hums in response.

"Uh...I just...don't want you walking all that way again, and further so why-"

"I'm not coming inside your house," Jotaro cuts you off, causing you to stutter and blink a couple of times. However, you've already made up your mind and there's no way you're turning back now.

"No, JoJo, you are, and I'm serious right now!," you protest, trying your best to sound strict as you walk to take a hold of Jotaro's arm with your free one and pulling him under the dry safety of your door. When he realized he stepped in with his shoes, he quickly retreats, pulling on his hat and looking away.

"JoJo...!"

Jeez, you're so naïve. Little do you know, Jotaro is only concerned about causing you any harm. He'd rather shrivel up and die from hypothermia than have you affected by him. But...refusing is never an option with you at this point. If anything, he doubts you won't end up following him until he's already at his own house, still trying to nag him further. He grunts, shaking his head then looking back to you.

"Jesus, fine."

Your face quickly lights up with a smile, and you drag Jotaro inside your house —with a limp—and make him take his jacket off. As much as he somewhat doesn't want to be here, Jotaro sighs in relief, shuddering at the warmth of your home.

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

{2901 words}

This is just something to start writing here. I'm not sure how to feel about it but I hope you like it lol, you can imagine what happens next. this seems very random and messy, which it is but I promise I'll come back with better content lmfao.

--Poppie

[voiceless-terror]

Hi ily and I love bothering people with prompts, so I'm requesting "a character who’s so exhausted his hands are trembling, his eyes are dull/unfocused, he’s starting to hallucinate… and his team needs him to stay awake" with Jon and literally anyone at any time (except s5 because it's too emotionally taxing for me to keep up with oop-)

Hello there, Shannon! Here you go! This takes place in Season Two, when all is not great with the Archives team. Hope you like! <3

“And you’re sure this requires all four of us?”

“Yes, Jon,” Elias sighed, his annoyance clear even through the phone. “Believe it or not, I am trying to help you. You’ve managed to alienate almost all of your staff, so perhaps this will do you some good. You seem to enjoy ‘following-up’ these days, unlike in your first months in the position.”

That stung a bit.

It wasn’t his fault someone had died in the Archives, and that someone happened to be his predecessor. It was a natural reaction to feel some paranoia, though he will admit he might have gone a little...overboard, in some of his investigations. Tim certainly thought so. Sasha was her usual cool, aloof self avoiding him as much as possible. Martin was the only one that treated him the same, probably better than he deserved after accusing the man of being a possible murderer. He dragged him out to lunches and hovered in the evenings when Jon stayed late. He was the one who accompanied him to the clinic after his incident with Michael. Jon couldn’t help the ache that went through his chest when he saw Martin still in the lobby, waiting to take him home and fussing over his bandages. 

Walking him to his door.

And now Elias, of all people, was deciding to be more ‘hands-on’ after the intervention. The intervention where even Martin held him at arm's length, though he was still the friendliest face in the room. If this meant keeping his job, he would do it. 

Though he wasn’t so sure he even liked his job anymore. But Jon kept pushing forward. He needed answers. 

Telling his assistants was another story. 

He stood in front of them, knowing he looked a mess. He’d seen himself in the mirror this morning after another failed attempt at rest. His hair was a mess, the dark circles under his eyes were turning a lurid purple. He looked waxy and gaunt and nothing he could do now would fix it. So he kept drinking his tepid black coffee and cheap energy drinks; frankly, they were the only thing keeping him going.

Nevertheless, he didn’t exactly inspire confidence.

“Seriously, Jon?” Tim wasn’t fond of using ‘boss’ anymore, not unless he was feeling particularly vicious. “It would be fine with two of us. Me and Martin can go and take shifts. You look like the living dead.”

“Tim,” Martin admonished, shooting him a look. “He’s right, though. You don’t look well, and I don’t think an all-night stake out is what you need right now. I mean, why are we even following up on this? It’s just some ‘vampire’ sighting that’s not going to pan out. Don’t we have more important things to be focusing on?”

“Elias insisted,” Jon tried for apologetic but must have missed the mark, judging by Tim’s narrowing eyes. “I’m- I wouldn’t make you do this, but I’m afraid-”

“Why does Elias even care about this?” Tim interrupted, slamming his drawer shut dramatically. The sound made Jon flinch- that wasn’t hard to do these days. “Did you even try to get out of it?”

“Of course I did,” Jon bristled. “I know- I know the last thing anyone wants to do is spend time with me. This wasn’t my idea-”

“That’s a bit hard to believe, Jon,” Sasha’s voice was mocking, though it remained light and easy. Sasha was always ready with a barb or a joke, mostly at Jon’s expense. “I’d think you’d enjoy this sort of thing- stalking, investigating. Or is that just with your co-workers?”

Tim snickered. Even Martin had a bit of a smile on his face, though he tried to hide it. Jon felt his face flush red. 

“That’s not,” Jon began a defense but quickly backtracked, knowing it would be futile. “Elias wanted us to go tomorrow night. It’s about thirty minutes away, so if you don’t mind driving, Tim-”

“Anything for you, boss,” Tim muttered. “If you could try sleeping before then, that would be great. I filled my quota on catching you collapsing on the job.” The words were unnecessarily sharp and hurt Jon more than he cared to admit. He remembered a time when Tim was always around to lend him a hand, conscientious and kind. But he’d gone and ruined that now, hadn't he?

“I’ll be fine,” Jon straightened his back, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. Tim snorted and turned back to his desk, Sasha did the same. Martin just stood there, giving Jon an appraising eye. It made him feel like he failed an exam or came up short on an examination.

This should be fun.

_______

Sleep eluded him for all but an hour that night. The face that greeted him in the morning looked even more horrific than the day before; Tim wasn’t far off in his assessment. He said as much as Jon entered the office.

“Christ, this is going to be fun,” Tim rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair as Jon hunched in on himself, defensively clutching his extra-large coffee.

“I did sleep,” he bit out, avoiding the man’s eyes. It was true.

“Sure. Just try taking a fucking nap this afternoon, okay?” The words sounded almost concerned, but Jon knew better. “I’m not listening to you snore in the backseat all night.”

“I’ll try,” Jon grumbled as he exited the room. A sudden sting hit his hand and he hissed; coffee had spilled from the lid of his to-go cup and was now running a scalding stream down his arm. His hand was shaking, a steady and insistent tremor that refused to calm despite his best efforts. 

I’ll sleep this afternoon, he promised himself. Something’s gotta give eventually, right?

_______

Jon was wrong. Just my luck.

After two fruitless hours of tossing and turning, he finally gave up, leaving the office to grab a couple of energy drinks that he could hide in his bag. And now he was loaded in the backseat of Tim’s car, his heartbeat erratic and his chest tight. Martin had provided them all with coffee, though he handed Jon his with some reluctance.

“Are you sure you’re okay-”

“For the last time, yes, Martin!” The words came out harsher than he intended and Martin flinched back, avoiding Jon’s eyes as he got into the passenger seat beside Tim. “Don’t yell, Jon,” Tim commanded as he started the car. “God, you always were a right bastard when you’re sleep-deprived.”

“M’ sorry, Martin,” he mumbled to the ground. It was easier to focus on something stationary- whenever he looked out the window, his vision blurred and nausea churned in his stomach. And that’s why you don’t have energy drinks on an empty stomach. Stupid, stupid.

“It’s fine, Jon.” It didn’t feel fine.

By the time they arrived at the park where the supposed sightings took place, it was already dark. Tim had the radio playing softly in the background as he and Martin murmured in the front seats, a low sound Jon couldn’t hear. He wondered if they were talking about him.

Not everything’s about you. He shivered in his seat, drawing his coat tighter around his body. Sasha shot him a glance; she always had the hint of a smile on her lips, cold and calculating. As if Jon’s situation was amusing to her. Maybe it is.

He wished Martin was back here with him. Martin was warm, solid, and steady; Jon craved that, embarrassing as it was. But Martin likely didn’t want to be around him; unsurprising, with how Jon’s behaved.

The steady drone of sound was pleasant, a nice background hum that relaxed him incrementally. The occasional heart palpitations were starting to slow, and Jon felt himself relaxing for the first time in days. It was a sweet, blissful relief- surely a small nap wouldn’t be terrible, just enough to keep him going through the night-

A sharp jab in his side jolted him awake. He shot up with a yelp to find Sasha smirking, her face unreadable. “Don’t sleep on the job, boss.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he whispered, rubbing at his eyes and wishing for just a short reprieve. But the blurriness was worse now and his heart was back to its erratic rhythm- Sasha’s rude awakening had done its job.

“Maybe try looking out the window,” Tim suggested sarcastically. “We are here to do a job, you know. Not so you can zone out and sleep.”

“R-Right.” Jon didn’t mention that nobody else seemed to be doing the same. Still, he focused on the dim light emanating from the one streetlamp in the park. It was just an empty field at the edge of the woods. It would be hard to miss anything.

This went on for an hour, Sasha continually nudging him awake whenever he started to drift off. She was probably doing him a favor- who knows what horrors lurked in his nightmares, and the last thing he needed was to wake up screaming like a lunatic. He imagined word getting round to Elias that he was falling apart, even more unstable than previously thought. 

And then something moved out of the corner of his eye- a small, dark shadow was standing in the middle of the park, barely visible by the light of the streetlamp. Jon let out a choked gasp as he leaned forward, hitting the back of Tim’s seat.

“L-Look!” he whispered urgently, pointing ahead. “Someone- someone’s there?”

“Where, Jon?” Sasha’s voice beside him was amused, playful. “I don’t see a thing.”

“Right there!” He insisted, and as if on cue the figure began moving forward, edging closer to the light. “It’s moving!” 

“Jon,” Tim started, looking back at him with an inquisitive gaze. His voice was slow and measured. “What are you talking about? There’s nothing there.”

“There is!” He was aware he was begging now, a pathetic plea to just look, it’s right there, can’t you see?

Martin reached a hand to his shoulder, all concern and worry. “Jon, I promise you there’s-”

And that’s when the figure revealed itself, standing clear under the light. It was a woman, tall and sad. Her long hair was pulled back from her face with a headband, and she had round glasses and looked so, so familiar-

Sasha, his mind supplied. That’s not right. Sasha’s right beside him.

Sasha. It was insistent this time. Jon put a shaking hand to the door handle and wrenched it open, practically falling out of the car as the others protested behind him. But he paid them no mind and stumbled forward on weak legs. There were footsteps behind him but it didn’t matter because Sasha’s there Sasha’s there-

And then she was gone.

The park was silent and still, almost serene. And Jon stood under the lamp, his chest heaving and his heart racing until he collapsed in the soft, dewy grass. Sasha was in the car. Sasha wasn’t here. But it doesn’t make sense. He gagged, hands and knees digging into the earth as nothing came up but a small amount of bile and coffee. A hand went to his shoulder but he wrenched it off, a frustrated moan bubbling out of his throat as his eyes filled with tears.

“Sasha was here,” he wailed, no longer caring if he made a scene. “Sasha was here!”

“Jon? Oh fuck, oh God what do we do, something’s wrong-”

“Just pick him up, Martin, get him back in the car!”

Jon was hauled to his feet but his legs were shaky and useless; Martin cursed and scooped him up instead, unbearably gentle. He tugged at Martin’s shirt, desperate for someone to listen. “Sasha,” he hiccupped but Martin just hushed him, squeezing him tighter to his chest. 

“Sasha’s in the car, Jon,” He whispered soothingly as Tim opened the car door. “See? Right there!” Sasha, with her wrong smile and her wrong face and her cold, cold hands-

Jon let out a shriek, thrashing and kicking as Martin tried to place him in the backseat by that thing. “No no no,” he cried and tugged at Martin’s jumper. “I don’t want to I don’t want to-”

“Get in the front, Sash,” Tim commanded, something unreadable in his eyes. “He’s not going to stop freaking out until you do. Martin can sit in the back.”

“So fussy,” she said mildly as she opened the door and did as Tim said. “Is he going to be okay?”

Jon could barely follow the conversation as Martin awkwardly crawled into the backseat and tried to maneuver him into his seatbelt. But Jon couldn’t let go because Martin was real and there and the only thing holding him together at the moment. 

“Just drive,” Martin’s voice was hard and unlike him, but he squeezed Jon tighter to his chest and that was all he needed to finally give into the darkness at the edge of his vision.

_____

When he next woke he was tucked into a bed- his own, strangely. Light filtered gently into the room and Jon felt like he’d been run over by a truck several times over; every part of him aching and groaning as he attempted to sit up. 

“Jon?”

Martin stood in the doorway, the picture of anxiety and worry. “God, I thought you’d never wake!” He hurried over to the side of the bed and placed a hand to his forehead that Jon leaned into. “You don’t feel warm. You’ve been asleep for almost sixteen hours. Are you okay?”

“Define ‘okay,’” Jon croaked, leaning back into the pillows. Sixteen hours but he still felt like hammered shit. “What- what happened? Why am I here?”

“You don’t remember?” Martin’s voice somehow managed to sound more worried. “God, you were- you were really out of it, Jon. Ranting about Sasha- you wouldn’t get near her. I thought we should take you to the hospital but Tim insisted you wouldn’t like that.” Tim was always the one who knew him best. “He had a key so we dropped you off, but I thought someone should stay behind- I mean, is that okay? I don’t want to overstep or anything, but you were really bad and I couldn’t-”

“It’s fine, Martin,” Jon cut him off gently. It was touching, in a way, that Martin would want to look out for him after the fit he apparently threw. “I, uh- thank you, I guess.”

“Really, it’s no problem,” Martin said, leaning back on his heels and fiddling with his hands. “I-I didn’t want to leave you alone, and I didn’t think you’d want to wake up to Tim or Sasha-”

“God,” Jon groaned and slumped over in bed, shame coursing through his veins. ‘“I’ll have to apologize to her tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Martin agreed, though not unkindly. “But I think she’ll understand. You were exhausted, it’s not like you meant it.” I suppose that’s true, he thought. Just my paranoia out of control.

“I’ll make us some tea. You stay in bed, okay?” 

“A-Alright.” Martin turned to leave the room but a thought logged itself in Jon’s brain and he reached a hand out to stop him. “Did you stop anywhere beforehand?” he asked. “Like the institute, o-or maybe Tim’s place?”

“No,” Martin replied, a puzzled look on his face. “Why?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jon closed his eyes and leaned back into the pillows, feeling utterly drained. “It’s nothing.”

Martin exited the room and Jon tried not to think about the key he gave Tim ages ago, back when they visited each other with some regularity. 

And the idea that it was still on his keychain, waiting to be used.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27457939

#prompts #my writing #tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #tim stoker #not!sasha #martin blackwood #jonmartin #angst #sickfic #whump #postapocalyptic-cryptic

[cheeseburgersstuff]

Don’t Leave Me

I wrote this when I was supposed to be studying 😂😂 This is the longest shit I've ever written!! 💃 I'm improving, l guess 😁😂

Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Warnings: ansgt, sadness(a lil bit), language, (you guessed right, my shitty writing) 💕

.

.

.

y/n was the only reason Ransom was there, at his grandfather’s birthday. He didn’t even want to see his family’s faces. They always find something to annoy him. It’s not like he doesn’t say anything back to them, Man he comes back with more rude and sarcastic answers than them. But still, for him, they are the vile ones. 

And that’s why he was sitting at the corner away from everyone with a drink in his hand watching his wife laughing with Meg and Marta. He was sitting peacefully until his grandfather took him to his office to talk about something important. That’s when everything went wrong. His calm behavior, his mood, everything spoiled.

y/n surely did notice him going with his grandfather with annoyed expressions. She chuckled and shook her head knowing that after some time all of them would be hearing both granddad’s and grandson's yelling at each other.

This is their love-hate relationship, Harlan would always tell Ransom that, how ransom should have to be responsible especially now that he is married and Ransom would get angry how you can’t tell him what to do, you can’t tell him nothing.

But that doesn’t mean they hate each other. Harlan would always talk about Ransom with Marta, how he worried about that boy and see the younger him in Ransom. On the other hand, Ransom surely doesn’t share his feelings with anyone but with his wife, he made an exception. She knew that whenever they had a fight Ransom couldn’t sleep that night, he would feel guilty because of his harsh words towards Harlan cuz he got carried away with their fight.

And that’s what happening right now, after a few moments the family heard their yelling and then ransom getting out of the house without even looking at his wife leaving her there. She didn’t go out after him, thinking he just got out to clear his mind but when she heard his beamer started and gone, she knew this time that shit was serious. 

Everyone was looking at her as if wanting to know what she would do now. She inhaled and straight went to Harlan’s office shutting the door behind her. 

“What happened now Harlan,” she asked in an irritated tone. “Nothing, just the old shit you know” “Harlan I know this is not just about him being careless or something. Please tell me the truth, he just left me here. I know this is something serious.” please tell me before he does something stupid, you know him Harlan.” y/n begged.

Harlan just stared at y/n then said “I Just cut him off my will.””not just him everyone else too.” he said calmly. “You what!? You cut everyone off” 

“This has to be done y/n. It’s gonna make them grow on their own. It’s gonna make him respon..” 

“You know I don't care about that, I just know my husband is out there roaming around in madness, you know his anger and madness, you shouldn’t just tell him everything like that. I just hope he won’t do anything stupid.” y/n sighed and went out of the house needing fresh air. 

After some time she heard something from the entrance, it was just dark so I couldn't see what it was. But then again she heard a sound like someone was out there. She went that way and saw someone’s back. When that person went towards the wall of the house and started to climb it, she gasped knowing it was her husband climbing the wall as he was some sort of thief or some criminal. She watched him going inside the house through the window which looks like some sort of secretive door or something.

She knew how he acts stupid during his anger seasons but seeing him like this, entering his grand father’s house as a thief shocked her. 

She quickly got inside the house too, everyone was busy bickering about something so nobody noticed her. She went upstairs, towards Harlan's room and then there she saw her husband.

He was in Harlan's room, doing something with his medical bag. A syringe and in his hand.

“Ransom what are you doing here” he got startled and dropped the medicine inside the bag. 

He turned towards her, he was scared but somehow managed to keep his expressions calm.

“What are you doing here?” he said like he was angry. She raised her eyebrow “really!? I should be the one asking you that, why are you here, you left about 20 minutes ago remember?” “what brings you here again, in Harlan's bedroom and by climbing the wall?” she questioned. 

He sighed “nothing that concerns you, just go downstairs and don’t” “what the fuck Ransom, you sound like it’s normal? You climb the wall to enter the house, going into your grandfather's room doing something with his medicines, I know you are mad at him for cutting you out but what the hell is all of this?” she spat.

“You know?” “of course I know, I asked him after you left me there because you were so angry that you just forgot your wife” she taunted. “Oh c'mon, I didn't forget you” he scoffed. “I just had to do this before coming back to you” “and what is this? What are you doing here Ransom?” she went near him looking at the bag in front of him. When he didn’t answer she took both injection bottles and then looked at him with horrified expressions. 

“Were you switching them both?” she whispered like she was scared of the answer. Ransom didn’t say anything she made her angrier “tell me, Ransom, were you switching these.” she yelled, showing him morphine and the other bottle.

“Yes, I...I had to be this sweetheart for us. That is our money. He is giving everything to her. I can’t let that happen” she was just staring at him listening to his rambling, she couldn’t believe this was her husband, she was living with him for 3 years. No matter how much of an asshole he is but this is beyond the limit, killing his grandfather just cuz he is giving his nurse, not his so-called vile family. 

“We are going home right now,” she said, wiping her tears and fixing Harlan's bag like before. Then taking out the syringe from ransom’s hand. “No! I won’t go home until I finish this. I have to do the..” he was cut off by her slap on his face. “Wake up ransom!! This is not you, get out of the house just like you came in. then go to your car. I’ll meet you there. And if you try to do this again Ransom, I can assure you I can be more aggressive than you.” with that she just stormed out the room without glancing towards her husband.

~ 

After saying goodbye to everyone y/n sat in the car. She didn’t acknowledge him, the whole ride towards home went in silence. Ransom tried to talk to her but just got ignored. 

When they both reached their house she just went straight to her room. 

After some time she came downstairs seeing ransom sitting on the couch, his face in his hands. She didn’t want to talk to him but knew she had to.she just couldn't control herself and went towards him and placed a hand on his shoulder, he looked up with his red eyes due to crying. And that just broke her heart more. She sat beside him and he suddenly hugged her body, his face in her chest and arms around her waist. But she didn’t hug him back.

“I’m so sorry baby, I know what I was doing, was horrific. I didn’t even know I was planning to murder my grandfather. I know I’m not a good person and I don’t deserve you or any happiness in the world but please baby, don’t leave me. I can’t live without you.” 

She started to cry at his words, he was thinking she was going to leave him, didn’t he know that just like him she also can’t live without him. And no matter how much bad person he can be, she’ll always arrive to spoil his evil plans just like today, she’ll always slap that madness inside of him until it vanishes forever. 

She felt him shaking in her arms, crying again. “Hey hey! Look at me.” she took his face in her hands. “I’m not going to leave you OK… what you did was indeed horrible and you did break my heart but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna leave you. I’ll always be with you and we are gonna deal with your shit together. Just like you, I can't live without you too.” “I don't need Harlan's money, I don’t need the expensive gift you give me. Ransom for me you are enough. What I need is your promise that you’ll help me, help me to help you, to make this madness, these horrific thoughts go away, will you?” 

He looked at him like she was some sort of blessing towards him, he couldn’t believe she wasn’t leaving her “whatever you’ll say, I’ll do it, sweetheart, just forgive and give me another chance.” he said happily and gave her another hug. And with that she knew the first step to help him, taking him to a therapist….

#chris evans #captain america #chris evans x reader #marvel #steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #hugh ransom drysdale #ransom thrombey fanfic #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom x reader #knives out

[withoneheadlight]

Kinda want to make us happen (so stop smiling at me like that)

"Okay. What would you go for, then?"

"I don't know. Johansson, maybe? I like that one" says Steve, thoughtful, dropping down next to Billy, his back against the boiling side of the Camaro" Ooor-oh! Williamson! That one sounds good. Steve Williamson. What do you think?"

"Weird." Billy taps his cigarette butt with his thumb, blowing the ash, "I think it sounds weird. And I don't know why you want to change it, if all of those rhyme with the one you already have”

Steve rolls his eyes. The screams from the pool come gusty, like the wind that has risen from the east. The kids are already more than fifteen minutes late.

"Let's see. You try. I'm sure you'll have a knack for it"

Billy should get mad about his haughty tone, but what he feels instead is that tone describing a line that travels straight down from the hollow of his throat to just below his navel. The wind has extinguished his cigarette when he brings it to his lips. He throws it. Steals Steve's.

"Hey!"

"I don't know" he hits a puff, pretends to ignore him "I like the one you have. Sounds good. Ha-rring-ton. HaaaarringTON ”

"You only like it because you use it to harass me"

Billy can't help but smile. Wide. Cheeky.

"Maybe"

Billy shouldn't know about this last name thing. It's not like he and Steve have anything remotely close to that kind of familiarity. They are not friends or anything. Most of the time Billy only gets to see him like this, in passing. An almost daily coincidence. On days like today, waiting for the kids around a cigarette. On the days Steve stops by the gas station during Billy's shift to refuel the BMW. When he sees him in the distance, walking by, like those people you see only in the movies. Sunglasses on. White, pristine Nikes, a smile more expensive than all the money Billy will ever have in his hands. Million-dollar Steve Harrington, with his million-dollar smile. Completely unattainable for someone like Billy.

Because, that’s it, people like Steve Harrington happen to people like Billy Hargrove only in passing. And he knows, he knows, but he can't help but force those coincidences a little sometimes, push them into happening, like dropping by the Mall to fetch an ice cream on the Scoops –even if it really does have the best stuff in town–, accidentally catching a conversation ("Dingus. I vote for dingus. That’s your new last name" and "Thank you, Robin. I'm glad you're taking it so seriously" and "I take it seriously. Steve Dingus. Think about it"). And Billy is curious now. As he always is, inevitably, about all things regarding Steve Harrington.

"And why do you want to change it?"

 "I'm gonna-" Steve hesitates. Draws a long, curved line with his shoe, staining the tip with the dusty ocher dirt of the gravel "I'm gonna leave"

It's a curious thing. One moment it feels like there's plenty of air filling your lungs, and the next, you have nothing.

"From Hawkins?"

"Eh? No. No” Steve takes a deep breath, “Only from my parent’s house”

Billy doesn't know if when your heart skips a beat you can ever get it back, but if not, Steve Harrington owes him this one.

But he sounds cool, perfectly collected when he speaks again. A long, hard-learned ability.

"And the last name thing?" 

“My father– He's always saying this shit,” he sighs, makes his voice even more serious, rounds it in an exaggerated imitation of his father “This –You're not worthy to carry the Harrington name– shit. So."

Billy knows a lot about asshole fathers and never meeting impossible expectations. If he could, he would erase every trace of Neil off himself, even if he's not sure how much would be left after that.

"Yeah"

He hands him the cigarette and Steve accepts it with a small smile.

 "It will cost me almost everything I have. But, you know, is worth it"

Billy frowns.

"Don't you have like, a shitload of money?" 

"Not if I leave" Steve shrugs, turns his head in the direction of the pool, throat working "If you leave casa Harrington, you leave casa Harrington for good. No car, no inheritance, no nothing. We’re not– in the best terms right now. My father and I" 

Billy wants to know about that too–he wants to know everything– but it seems like too much to ask. 

Steve's head lulls down. The wind picks up momentum over the curve of his back, ruffles his hair in a whirlpool. He puffs on the cigarette.

It's the closest Billy is ever going to get to his lips.

"Well, welcome then, to bottom of the bottom of the social scale.  I’m sure you’re gonna enjoy yourself down here, surrounded by the poor and the unprivileged “

He means it as a joke, but realizes he has screwed up the moment the words leave his lips. Steve’s face twists into something sad and ashamed and Billy is a fucking asshole that needs to stop and think before opening his big, stupid mouth.  

"I guess so," he says, lips pressed thin. And God, Billy is like a fucking elephant, stepping on every delicate thing. He should know better than making it worst.

Fuck.

Because is not as he can’t imagine the reason why Steve wants to get away from Robert Harrington. Why he needs to stop being someone so small under such a large shadow. Because Steve it’s not like that. It’s not some selfish and self-centered prick. Steve is caring and protective and so, so good.

And Billy is totally gone for him.

"You can have mine" he says, and immediately wants to smack himself in the head because though you were gonna start thinking before speaking, Hargrove. 

Steve looks at him, curious and a bit confused. Billy inhales. Deep.

"Can what?"

"My last name" he says, because Steve is looking at him intently, and there’s nothing he can do now "I hate it. You can have it if you want”

And Jesus, he feels so stupid right now. It’s like he can’t control his fucking mouth when he's around Steve, like he’s still seventeen and trying so hard to impress him.  Fishes inside his back pocket for the pack of cigarettes. He can see Steve’s smile growing in the corner of his eye.  And ok. That’s ok. Billy is a big-mouthed asshole. But Steve is smiling now, so ok.

At least he made it better.

"I don't think Steve Hargrove sounds very cool either, truth be told"

But it does. It does. And Billy is turning red, warmth spreading through his face, burning on the tips of his ears.

"It’s better than Johansson"

"That’s true" He does this thing he does sometimes, this thing of fixing his eyes on Billy and instantly looking away, elusive, and Billy's body tightens as if ready to hunt him down, thrumming with the blind impulse of reach after him. In this distance, he can see all the moles that dot his skin, delicate and beautiful, the long to touch them hurts at his fingertips.

"How are you going to do it?"

 “No fucking idea,” he shrugs. “I guess I can stay at Dustin's for a few days and try to come up with something from there. I don't really have anything planned. I just want–". He doesn't say it, like he’s not able to find the words. Like it’s less formed thought and more feeling.  But there’s no need because Billy knows them all. He has an interminable list of them. It starts with freedom, with independence, with never again.  He yelled them all at his father when he got away last year. Max is the only reason he hasn’t flown from Hawkins yet. 

Well, not the only reason. Just the only that’s not a fucking dream.

“No fucking idea” Steve repeats like an echo, huffs a laugh that comes out ragged. Nervous. Like he’s caught up in that thought. How are you gonna do it?.

And Billy is an adult now. Shouldn’t be losing his self-control around a boy like this anymore. Even if that boy is Steve Harrington. Should be able to stop his fucking mouth for fuck’s sake.

But he asks, anyway.

 "Wanna crash at my place?"

“Uh?”

Steve’s brow furrows. Most days it ain’t easy to tell apart the color of his eyes, irises so dark they mix with the pupils, but the sun is sinking low now, golden light brightening them lighter, a soft shade of brown. Billy tries not to think about how impossible he is, how out of reach even like this, so close to him, side to side, their bodies brushing. 

"While you figure it out, I mean. Or, you know, I could use a roommate, share the rent, once you regain some money, I mean”

It's a stupid offer and he knows it, because people like Steve Harrington never really happen to people like Billy Hargrove, only like this, the luck to steal a few moments, a coincidence.

"Really?" Steve asks with something completely, disarmingly unexpected. Something like hope.

He gets up, looks at Billy like he’s trying to decipher something.

"No. Not really. Didn't you just hear me, Harrington?” He says, uses his best unrepentant asshole tone. Lights another cigarette “I'm wasn't by any means inviting you or something"

And Steve smiles smiles smiles. And Billy has never-ever wanted to kiss someone so much, and for so long, and be able to hold himself back.

"Jesus, Hargrove" Steve breathes out a laugh, and he's beaming, and Billy doesn't have the slightest idea how he managed to do that "Is there anything you are not willing to give me?"

And he’s kidding, of course he is, but the words hit like a blow, straight to his solar plexus and Billy is not fast enough, he wasn’t prepared. So when he lowers his head, he’s sure Steve has seen it all, right there in his eyes.

 Everything.

He lights the cigarette, fills his lungs till he feels them burning. 

"You take it or what?"

"I take it" he says. Low and soft like it is something intended only for Billy to hear "And, you’re right, by the way”

“Uh?”

 “It sounds better the more I think about it"

   (This is how it goes:

Steve never gets to change it.

He moves in with Billy. Needs the money because (“No, no, no. You’re not gonna pay for all our food ¿You want me to die of embarrassment? Wait. Wait. Don’t answer that") so he postpones it because, there's no rush, really (“And you keep calling me HAAaarrrrington, so feels a bit like a waste”) it was one those in-the-heat-of-the-moment kind of decisions anyway so (“No. It was no childish. You’re an asshole. Ok, well. Yeah. That I can accept. It was not the most practical) it ends up on undefined hiatus.

And then they start joking about it. Billy calls him “Mr. Hargrove” (“Good morning, Mr. Hargrove” or “Wanna go to the movies tonight, Mr. Hargrove?” or “You forgot to do the dishes yesterday, Mr. Hargrove, that's five bucks to the forgotten-dishes jar, Mr. Hargrove”) and Steve uses his, when replies, in a fairly accurate impersonation (“You owe like, twenty dollars to that jar, Harrington. So you are not to speak”) and keeps on using it against him on a regular basis (“Gosh, Harrington, you're such softie. And think that you used to be such a hard-ass on High School” every time Max convinces him to take her shopping).

And, truth be told, Steve never hated it that much. Kind of loves it, now that his father hasn’t power over him anymore, now that it's Billy who uses it, rides the letters like a wave, HarrignTON, piling up the syllables like in a roller coaster. When he says,

“I’m glad you’re here with me, Harrington” falling asleep against his shoulder on the couch.

When he says,

“I miss you, Harrington. This is so boring without you” that time Steve took the kids on a camping trip for a whole week.

When he says,

“I can’t stop myself from kissing you anymore, Harrington. So this is your chance to step away”

They hyphenate, at the end.

There are a lot of Hs and Rs and Gs, that they share, and Steve wants them all.

They toss a coin in the air.

“Are you sure you haven’t cheated, pretty boy? You look too smug to not be lying”

“Why would I? But we can switch, if you want to”

“Nah, I think it sounds pretty good, actually” Billy says. Kisses him “Better the more I think about it”)

#dumb boys being dumb #dumb writers being even dumber #harringrove #harringrove fic #steve harrington #Billy Hargrove #billy x steve #Steve x Billy #xharringrove

[crystxlclear]

sudden desire

chapter one: cupid fucked up

part two of sudden desire

prologue / masterlist

in which two best friends won’t admit they’re in love so decide to have a baby together instead.

pairing: marcus pike x female original character

warnings: mentions of divorce?

word count: 2.2k

author’s note: not much to say other than i decided this isn’t going to have any smut & it’s just going to be cute af because i’m not comfortable writing it and also the whole issue with under 18s reading & engaging in 18+ content makes things worse. so just enjoy this mostly wholesome but also sad and angsty fic about everyone’s favourite FBI agent falling in love :)

At first, Loren Hull wanted to throw Coraline Meyer a divorce party. Some massive, elaborate party with all their friends. "To celebrate the fact my best friend is finally free!" She'd explained, the day the final paperwork came through. But Coraline decided against it, making some paper-thin excuse that she had some work thing that she couldn't get out of. So, instead, she finds herself alone and sprawled out under far too many blankets on her couch, eating spoonfuls of ice cream like her life depended on it, watching some shitty horror film. At first, she’d tried watching some equally-shitty rom-com but the happy moments made her cry, which she found completely pathetic and embarrassing. Instead, she's resorted to laughing at the characters in the first cliche horror she could find for being so stupid and letting themselves get killed. She'd been in a couple of cheap horrors when she'd first started acting; they were all embarrassingly bad and Coraline likes to pretend they'd never happened.

The doorbell rings halfway through some drawn-out chase scene, fake screams falling from the blonde actress' mouth as some knife-wielding maniac in a cheap mask hunts her down. Coraline begrudgingly hauls herself up from her comfy position on the sofa and shuffles towards the door, socks scuffing across the carpet. The moment the blankets fall away, she’s freezing again, though she’s vaguely aware that her apartment’s about fifty degrees too hot. Still, she wraps her cardigan tighter around herself, finding it impossible to shift the shivers.

Coraline’s greeted by the grinning face of Marcus Pike. "Hey, sunshine." He grins.

Sunshine. The nickname he'd given her the first day they'd met, when she'd shown up far too early to a briefing. Cora’s older brother, Daniel, had been opening an art gallery in downtown D.C. and was convinced scammers were already trying to sell him fake paintings for exceptionally high prices. Marcus and his team were tasked with helping out; Coraline had been roped in by her brother to help, since she’d be there for the grand opening.

She’d been wearing some bright yellow dress she'd found at the back of her wardrobe; he'd complimented her when he'd arrived a few minutes later and it had been so long since anyone had given her a genuine compliment that she'd grown flustered and almost spilt coffee down herself. They'd grown closer and closer since then and she had no hesitation in calling him one of her best friends.

Marcus holds up a paper bag. "I brought Chinese food."

"Oh, you're an angel." Cora returns Marcus' grin, opening the door wide enough for him to step inside. She takes the bag from him and cradles it close to her like it’s a newborn baby, the warmth flushing through her body.

"I try." He chuckles as she pulls him into a hug. They hold each other close for a while, lingering just a little longer than normal, her hand clutching at the back of his t-shirt a little tighter.

Coraline slumps back onto the couch when they finally let each other go. She immediately combs through the bag in search of the chow mein she knows will be in there; their weekly Chinese takeout nights have become a tradition in the few months they've known each other and he knows her order like the back of his hand.

Marcus settles into the armchair opposite, grabbing his own food. "Happy divorce day, by the way."

Coraline groans. She'd hoped he'd forgotten about that — she hadn't mentioned it to him, either. The less said about it, the better. "Oh, god, don't remind me." She flings her head back dramatically against the couch cushions. "But, hey, I'm a single woman now. You should take your shot while you still have chance. I'm in high demand." She jokes.

"Are they lining up at your door?" Marcus chuckles, leaning forward in his chair.

"You know it, I'm a catch." She mumbles through a mouthful of noodles, wiggling her eyebrows at him. Marcus smiles wistfully over at her.

"Anyone would be lucky to have you, Cora."

"Oh, please." She snorts; she can feel her cheeks flushing as pink as the blanket she sits beneath. She still finds herself taken aback whenever he compliments her, she can’t help it. There’s just something about the way he seems to mean it that makes her heart swell inside her chest. She stares down at her food and pokes at an onion with the end of her chopsticks, hoping he won’t notice the bright flush of red that has swept across her face. "I'm never falling in love again, anyway."

"Why?"

Coraline looks up at him through her lashes. He’s still staring at her as she pokes at her noodles. "Too much unnecessary heartbreak." She pokes her toe out from under her blankets, nudging the half-empty pint of ice cream she'd been eating before he arrived. It’s melting and staining a ring onto her coffee table. It makes her shiver more than she already was. "I'd rather not go through the trauma again."

"Don't be so dramatic." He sniggers, kicking her lightly in the ankle.

Coraline fakes offence. She pokes Marcus back, furrows her eyebrows and pouts. "I'm not dramatic," she mumbles, ignoring the fact half an hour earlier she'd been crying into her ice cream like some character in the movie she'd been watching. "I just don't want to get hurt again."

Coraline has always had a problem with heartbreak. It seems to follow her. It happens too quickly, too often, and each time it chips away a little more at her heart. She's started to think that it’s inevitable, now. The sum of her heartbreak just makes her fragile.

Her first heartbreak at thirteen made her feel like her world was ending. By her second, at nineteen, she realised just how trivial that had been. The third heartbreak was the worst. It came at the expense of her younger sister Eve, barely seventeen with so many hopes and dreams, snatched away by a drunk driver on one quiet Sunday morning, as the sun shone brightly and the breeze ruffled the trees. The pain hit her where she was weak and left a spider-web of cracks inside her mind. She patched herself up with fractured smiles and make-believe until a little more sunshine crept through and she was herself again. Or, at least, half of herself.

When the fourth came, at the hands of the very person who'd helped her through the darkness, the person who stood by her side as she pulled the broken pieces of her heart back together, she was almost numb. Almost. It was almost like there was nothing left to break, nothing left to feel. Except there was and the cracks inside her threatened to burst apart.

Coraline has always known that hearts are easily broken, even when she was a child. The idea had never phased her until she felt it and it hurt more and more and more, until her bones were hollow and straining to hold together the pieces of her aching heart as it tried to tumble from her chest.

The thought of getting hurt again is a little too much.

Marcus smiles. "I get that." He’s silhouetted by the warm light of a street lamp that streams in through the window behind him. It turns the ends of his hair golden and his eyes amber as he tilts his head, like he’s trying to figure something out. Amber eyes gaze over the slight furrow of her brow and the glimmer that has appeared in her green eyes. "I hate him for hurting you, for making you think that way."

Coraline shakes her head. "Don't." She smiles, a great big beaming smile, that she’s worried might come off as fake, flashing across her face. "It was inevitable." Truthfully, she was half-gone before Scott even met her, dwelling too heavily on past heartbreak. They were perfectly wrong for each other; they'd both known it for a few years before things had turned sour but, back then, pretending to live in some blurry version of perfection, both silently screaming because it wasn't right. They weren't meant to be. They didn't work anymore, and hadn't for far too long. "And it was my fault, too."

When she and Scott first met, something made them believe things would work out. Opposites attract or some made-up cliché shit like that. She'd found herself drawn so quickly towards him; he was confident and sure of himself and he gave her this smile that sent welcome shivers through her bones. They got caught up in a whirlwind, pushing and pulling them, unrelenting. Things just moved too fast and they loved far too much, then far too little.

Coraline just wants to fall in love, slowly, to feel it smouldering so deep down in her bones for months before she realises what it is, when she’s head over heels and has fallen so deeply there‘s no way out. She doesn’t want to feel forced into loving someone, to spend her days convincing herself that she does. Because there would be nothing to doubt, she'll just know with complete and utter unwavering certainty. And she just wants someone to love her back, really, truly love her back, without compromise. Someone who’ll treat her right because he wants to, not because he has to.

"Aren't you hot under all those blankets?" Marcus questions. He's been wearing a suit jacket beneath his coat — it was so cold outside that the rain turned to ice the moment it hit the sidewalk — and he huffs out an uncomfortable deep breath as he pulls it off. "It's ridiculous in here."

"I'm always hot." She jokes with a smirk, raising an eyebrow. She tucks the blankets — all four of them — up under her chin. "But I'm freezing."

Coraline has had shivers set deep in her bones for months now. She can never seem to keep warm, permanently troubled by a chill that flushes through her. It’s becoming a real problem. Mostly because her heating bill is almost double that of normal, from the sheer number of times she dials the thermostat up as high as it will go.

Marcus scrunches up his jacket and throws it at her. She bats it away before it hits her square in the face, the button narrowly missing her eye. "Hey!" She protests, poised to launch the jacket back across the room directly towards his head.

"Wear it." He insists before chuckling as her expression softens. "Another layer to keep you warm."

"Oh.” Another pause, weighing up his expression, her eyebrow half-cocked in mild scepticism. But he seems genuine. “Thank you."

...

Coraline must have fallen asleep half an hour later. She'd trailed off mid-sentence, eyes fluttering closed, breath falling steady as she relaxed against the couch cushions. She's barely slept lately — an infuriating result of worrying about her impending divorce and a hectic filming schedule that is still in full swing — and neither she, nor Marcus, is surprised that sleep has prematurely pulled her under.

When she finally reopens her eyes, the dull light of daybreak is threatening to spill through the curtains and everything is neat. Marcus is gone; the entire apartment is silent, save for the soft hum of voices from some old black-and-white rerun on the TV. She doesn’t remember falling asleep or even closing her eyes; the last thing she remembers is Marcus throwing her his jacket and them talking for a while about nothing in particular as she’d turned off the horror film that had been playing in the background the whole time. She’s still wearing that jacket, now, her fingers tangled in the sleeves that are far too long for her. The jacket still smells like him, all familiar and comforting.

Coraline pokes her head out from underneath the blankets that are covering half her face. Her head had been resting on a small couch cushion when she'd fallen asleep — she'd been far too lazy to grab any others — but now the pillows from her bed prop her head up. Marcus must have put them there before he left; sometimes she sleeps so deeply that she isn’t surprised he hadn’t accidentally woken her up.

She finally manages to peel herself from the spot on the couch she's been laid on for over twelve hours, her knees protesting with a loud crack, every blanket tumbling to the floor. Her feet brush from her rug to the cold wooden floor and she shivers again because, of course, she’s unbearably cold again. Only her hands, that are stuffed into the pockets of Marcus' jacket, are warm.

The apartment is always quiet, now. Especially since Scott had moved out. Everything just feels empty, like she’s living in the house of a ghost, passing by empty picture frames that she's been too distracted to fill. She’s sure that Marcus has cleaned before he left; the half-melted tub of ice cream and empty Chinese food cartons are gone and even the dirty dishes she'd dumped in the sink have been washed and tucked away in the cupboard.

It’s the smallest of gestures, bringing her pillows so she’s comfortable and throwing out the trash, probably small and insignificant to anyone else. But the idea of doing any of it had bled all the energy from Coraline's bones and she’s so grateful.

She’s so painfully and heartbreakingly grateful for Marcus Pike and he has no idea.

#marcus pike x female character #marcus pike x original character #marcus pike x oc #marcus pike x reader #sudden desire

[theseagull16]

Warning the following content includes swearing ideas of suicide attempted suicide and depression and anxiety and mental illness detailed graphic descriptions and sexual references and criminal acts which could be upsetting to some viewers viewers discretion advised before reading the rest of this post remember this is all of my own oc is not official and I don't know how to make it if it's even possible anyone knows please comment but for now is this is my personal SCP but other Scps mentioned are real as in official

At present day Dizzy has requested out of the blue for an interview it's noted that is SCP has often refused any interviews that is requested to her and any interviews normally that she participates in are immutable, lies or just plain out ignored. But Dizzy has come to researchers and bargains an interview for the deal of being allowed to visit SCP 1508 in private for an hour at least site director... has agreed to the interview and taking Dizzy bargain so long as she doesn't cause any harm at all, any sign of aggression or sines of excitemen stress to anyone during the interview any signs of escape interview and her deal will be off. Dizzy has to where when juring outside of her containment high Dennsery expense gloves to avoid causing inorganic objects to be affected with poison table and area around Dizzy is not to be approached by interviewer or touched juring interview because that would trigger the response of the poston to exploding and causing the effect to happen. Interview Dizzy being green interviewer is in blue

Begin log

Instant silence

You know we could come closer I won't bite, l said I won't hurt anyone and you're standing in the middle of the room on a chair looking like an idiot might as well come closer to the table.

I would but you're leaning your elbows on the table causing your so-called "poison" to infected it and if I touched any object infected with dos green veins I end up suffering norva and diarrhea for the next good 62 hours

sigh what's the point of having these gloves on when everything is already infected with this stuff, there's on point keeping them on

She throws the gloves into a nearby bin

I don't think you're allowed to do that

Err fuck like who's going to care anyway, not like I'm using them anyway

Still if you don't coporate this interview will be over

then herey up and say some God them questions

Alright why a sudden desire to communicate. Until say yesterday you refuse to take any interviews flipping off, telling to f*** off or any other offensive language to anyone who comes near you with the idea of doing any experiments or interviews. And in unlucky situations sometimes you even vandalised there cars, objects rooms, or just make them sick

(A laugh could be heard in a slight giggle) what can I say they deserved it

To you maybe

They do deserve it Dizzy slams her fists onto the table

Calm remember

Yeah I know stay calm or no interview blah you're probably going to ask me about that later in the questions and to answer your question about why I suddenly have the urge to talk to you bush bags I have my reasons but I don't think that's important the only thing your little Foundation fides important is I share my knowledge I ceep carefully to myself so if you want to know anything just ask you're stupid question you had on your mind since the day you started working and found out about me now then I can get on with my day

So long as it ends with you visiting SCP- 1508.

If you mean by Joe which is his name by the way then yes yes I do

Which moves on to the next question why do you dislike when we call you by your designated numbers instead of your name

AAA Dizzy Flores her head back laughing before continuing in a mocking manner you supposed to be smart but still asked me simple easy questions. What to get my opinion it's kind of obvious I don't like being called that because I'm not your property is the degrading and I have a name so I don't see why not use it. it's supposed to be respectful to use somebody's name and I don't see being called at number is very respectful it's why anything or anyone in here that doesn't have a name I give a name

Is that why you break into other SCP containment rooms.

At first usually I just go into the room for entertainment in the form of a conversation or to hopefully make a new friend like and Joe, know any other SCP but then after I get to know them better and I found out they have no identities and some of them are also as miserable as s***. So I give them a name to have an identity with the name.

why do you have the urge to break into other SCP containment for your own entertainment can't use ask for something to keep you entertained

No it's more than just entertainment is the opportunity to travel, explore, marvel and brighten up the day of different objects and people that can usually only be found in fantasy amazing and every experience is almost always something new you can't put a price on that or replicated is not same and it kind of pisses everyone off, so it's an added bonus for me ahah.

Next question are you aware of your other a anomalous traits other than your main one

Do you mean other than the fact that I didn't take a s*** in literally over 60 years, I haven't cough, sneeze, or felt anything other than normal for decades that I don't even need the shower when just for entertainment and It turned the water green with my poison, and that anything that comes on to me like bacteria that is harmful gust slides off my body and clothing and every part of me, that I can't feel actual fear other than shock seeing it's a negative emotion or the fact that I can't be affected by medication even with a positive effect and life vitals machines don't actually work from me yeah I kinda have notice

What's your opinion on the SCP held here at the site and throughout the foundation hard to pinpoint your exact your opinion on SCP even when observing other SCP is hard to get your exact opinion your reaction are randoms to say the least

Actually that kind of a hard one Doc, my reaction is random because it's really depending on what happens when I go in there I don't really know what to expect I just go with the flow and see what goes on in there really it's kinda going into a room blindfolded almost and as for my opinion for other SCP some of them I actually I'm glad they're stuck in here seeing that they will probably kill the whole god damn universe if they ever got out and others I feel sorry and also disgusted by the foundation for keeping it here it's not their fault and they're not even dangerous they just a little different that's all that star eyed girls she just want to get out but you won't let her shame on you

She which you have named galaxy never put any request for ever mentioned for going outside

That's because he is scared if you would just sedate her like other in here

She wouldn't be scared if people not mentioning names didn't tell exactly what people do in here to SCP when they are to Wiley

yeah put the blame on me why not it's not like he has brains to figure it out by yourself you really underestimated SCP that's another reason I find the foundation disgusting we're not objects or least not all of us

Moving on

Hurry up

Do you anything about the laxatives in the tea of dr ....

Maybe

now let's get to the source of this conversation in the first place, why the sudden urge to visit SCP- 1504 usually if you just want to see him you preferably or duo not encouraged method break into his containment and settings free usually or vice versa why now you deciding to go for more for the less catastrophic method of visiting

Like I said before I have my reasons

Oh really

What are you getting at is this a double course because if it's a double course I will

Don't worry we can't even double cross you know negative effect remember

We did some research on your friend Joe as you call him and surprisingly we discovered that today is his birthday and it so happens since was contained every year on his birthday he seems to be more miserable year after year it's also happened you demanded an interview you might despise us but we are intelligent we kind of put the dots together you might as well admit it

.... Alright fine I admit it I ordered this interview in hoping to get privileges of allowing me to visit him on his birthday he is miserable is sad seeing the only companion you probably have around here for who knows how long I stop counting decades ago just drink and get high on his birthday and not even happy it's a miserable sort of way in a sense of will depression and years getting older nothing to getting better for him even after me even just visiting him in his cell still miserable tied up in there but not even a single birthday cake or compliment from anyone other than me to make him feel better even though I know you don't even notice so I decided to take the long short by getting this party

That quite admirable actually your friend is not getting on well with his birthday so you decided to do something sweet for him, don't think from your records of time we let you two be together you'll probably get a reward like an extra radio but a party station I don't know

Worth a try

And what happens if it fails

I guess you'll be another miserable year then

Never realised that your friends up with SCP 1504 this toxic

Personally I think that comment is bullshit.

What makes you think that don't you notice you encourage each other to drink, smoke, commit crimes, and vandalism even notice once a couple of years back that you and "Joe" somehow managed to make a secret meff lab and using it to experiment with different a SCP for fun in the basement of site 91

Hahaha I'm surprised you idiots didn't notice that earlier we somehow managed to drug up at least 6 SCP before anyone noticed and even then it was by accident when they were clean out the old basement Dizzy throws back in her seat laughing AH AH

You think it's funny to drug up SCP some of them are people you know

Bravo and in only took you experimenting on them and somebody else who having needles jabbed into them who are not scientists to say it

Regardless don't you recognise that what you and 1504 are doing is cruel and reckless

Hypocrite!!

You know what I mean

sure on the surface it sounds ridiculous and somewhat crazy and be honest we kind of are it a way but before you see anything is my explanation when you were immune to heam itself we kind of lose the will to be careful in a way and when no negative effect can be brought on to you you also lose more of that desire to hold back in a sense it doesn't mean that your conscience has been affected it does means you're a terrible person a little bit bad but deep down good people or at least I'm a good person and the people we "druged up" as you called it they were all willing to do it and some of those people even asked for those hi all of the SCPS we did it were objects creatures that were animals in a way and people who asked or couldn't get any worse if we give it to them see the records none of those SCP if you don't believe me none of them were harmed at the a little bit delirious and tired after a while but fine we're not monsters we don't do it to hurt them in the way we do it to make them feel better what do you think people take drugs in the first place to make them forget about the horrible things in life it's not good to them and it temporary but what else can I get around here some of them they even steal it from us check the records again if we didn't do it together we probably would have done it in any other scenario and as for encouraging each other for doing thinks like I said when your immune due to lose any sense of dread do it we drink and smoke but in a way is nothing other than like drinking water or leads to me and as for Joe he gets drunk and high but in the end of the day it doesn't kill him it just get a headache I only do it the keep company if I do stop him you just do it anyway so really I I don't do it nothing bad will happen we are not normal people plush employees in the foundation actually bought some of the meth we made before they were probably discovered

OK how much other scenarios like the time you and Joe still Dr.... car and drove it through a SCP portal to another dimension into a abandoned waste dump full of scrap metal that goes on for miles not only did you also kidnap a mtif soldier and through in the back of your car but you also crashed the place and then crashed the car all the time when you and Joe escaped he loading some rich women and you beated her with cricket bat and then stole her money another terrible time when you were transported to another complete by plane with a couple of other SCP they decided to be better if you travel in an like normal people instead of in an enclosure and you're scps friends including Joe before you even entered the plane you used a plank placed on a rod on the floor to hit Dr clef in the balls

Slight giggles

you turned a man into a crying wimp on the floor clutching his groinedon in the plane when a Stuart found out you were french he greeted you in French you shouted back to him vous pouvez sucer le Dr Clef glorifié boules meurtries enflées Stanley Joe got drunk and you filmed it he passed out and then insulted and walked around the whole plane during the entire flight and when you came down you did the same thing you did to Dr clef only to Dr bright even though he tried to avoid it

Ok as for the car bit I was upset about my miserable life and so was joe slightly drunk and felt like we both needed something to cheer each other we saw the car out and I know Dr.... loves that car sweat to God I think I was him kissed it. I got pissed seeing Dr.... is a go for nothing jerk he puts D class into danger for no reason that's like any other people and just like any other person I would want to punish him I told this to Joe well you know what he had the idea of and there was a testing with SCP-093 dimension portal nearby so you can guess what happens next we hijack the car with some bottles of whiskey from some security officer and a camera, Dr.... was me in the car and I flip him off you should have seen the look on his face it was priceless and so we just drove straight through the portal like nothing and mtif trucks was chasing us it was absolute thrill and never felt so alive. And I didn't give a care of anything. The car was faster than them one of the sodger somehow managed to get up to us much have been in the back we didn't notice he was out match I paralyzed him and then we throw him in the back he was a jerk anyway so I don't care Anyway when the gas run out we watching the sunset tuke pictures of the car each other and us settings to the top of the car drnking whiskey having a blast gust two friends hanging out so we have no blame it was f****** awesome then the mtif scod fade us got the guy out of the truck and tode us back the car getting distorted was a actsdet nothing to do with us when we got back one of the crans for the portal fell

Ok

As for the incident in the plane Dr clef had it coming for the looongest time just ask any female SCP or researcher I did them a favour. That'll teach him a lesson to make smart ass remarks not so tough when reality

I'll be lying to say your not a little bit right there

The flight attendant mug and I wasn't it really in a good mood since I hate the foundation ice auto be a good time to that's really good friends was making some interesting memory videos and making them all upset. The woman incident was when me and Joe escape once we needed money and there was no banks nearby but a horrible rich woman don't feel sorry for her, we only steel off people that really deserved it well I do Joe don't I make him do it because I don't want him stealing off innocence the lady was a rich scamp who treated the poor folk like trust and Roberts said she was in the black market and even sleep with one of the old judges to get off from stealing charity money from orphans she deserved what she got, we beat up a little not anything fatal just enough to make her ugly then stole some money we broke into her house and use my powers to give us so blisters on her feet to just to make sure that the hit one kill her. And Joe hit her in the back with a bat

Why do you feel like you can use your powers to punish the ones who avoid the justice system in some ways

I have to power to make people suffer I might as well use it tell me if you had a chance to save someone or just stand whilst they be killed you would obviously choose them it's similar to how when I see somebody doing harm I can't just stand there I have to make them pay for it I believe everyone gets what they deserve eventually even if not in life they will get it in hell but it's too late because they're dead so I make sure they get the punishment before the dead to know what they did was wrong

when ever you brings us this or just someone annoys you and you played a prank on them you never killed them no matter how bad things they did are

because if I killed them I will be as bad as the people I call monsters I might have lost a lot of things but I would never ever in any circumstances lose my homity and dignity by being a hypocrite and committing what I believe is the worst thing a person can do to a person bring death and personally I don't really see this as a punishment when it comes to my own suffering I feed as a way out but obviously I'm immortal so that will never happened

When you first came to this Foundation was very suicidal it seemed to approve over the time I'm are you still suicidal

Sort moment of silence

Not as before to say I'm not completely suicide that would be lying kind of faded almost as the decades went through I see it as a sort of sideeffect being a model eventually your pain blur's into the conscience of your mind and your personality over take it because nobody get the live as long as me and I have pretty of distracted seeing as Foundation always bring something new that helps friends I made since helped but to say I'm cured completely nope some days is worse than others sometimes. but if there was a better option to be free for my depression I will take it of course but I'm glad I'm better than before you wouldn't believe how dark that mindset is

Has therapy helped

Yes definitely but is not just therapy I find everything helps me in some ways when it comes to friends to talk to even strangers people to listen to it that matter to get it off your chest helps a lot.

Speaking of your oh so "lovely" friends let's talk about them apart from Joe you made a couple of them over the years some more favourable than others let's talk about them less start with your closest friend and the reason why this interview is taking place in the first place Joe

Well you already know his life from his file as an SCP there's not really much to say about him apart from the fact what is he really like because unlike the rest of you I actually know for fact what he's saying or doing hints why we're so close friends

and hints why you 2 can get away with things like robbing people only two days ago you somehow managed to borrow 50 quid out of the wallet of Dr....

And we spent it on a magic coffee dispenser to trick somebody into drinking bin water just for fun

Nmmmm

But Joe and I kind of need each other he's the first to person to really understand me a fellow SCP you became my friend somebody who knows what it feels like to be lonely and is suffer for a good majority of time in fact I could say he suffers more than me even.I had are you still have a human connection or more reality until he met me he was suicidal depressed and nobody had any idea of it or even he had a blue tick knowledge you should have seen his face when you first realise he finally found somebody to connect to you and don't leave me feel worse that he couldn't give me a hug you know that's why he's in the streets that could because the amount of fluid is Santa's lack of escape makes a mad the let us be with each other and in close proximity because if he doesn't have a human connection now he goes nuts and once he was so this before escape from the mental pain he grabbed me by the solders and end of catching severe case of schizophrenia but also seeing him like that screaming bagging blood everywhere for the 62 hours is painful to watchbut we help with turning away we keep eachother company we have each other's backs we stop each other from going crazy I can feel my world go up if you don't want them with him because he doesn't care what I am he's not here to study he's really the only person that really gives a damn for me anymore and maybe is just because he's desperate for company but it's genuine at least

What about other people But 1st oof Did you ever fall in love

No, if you'd read my record, you would know that my anomalous ability makes people unable to be sexually interested in me, including able to feel any romantic feelings towards me which really sucks because nobody can ever fall in love with me which really sucks because I didn't have a boyfriend before all of this which really fuckin' sucks

Ok let's go back to some other questions then what are some of the other friends like scp-507

Honestly he's a nice guy but we and close friends sometimes gets nervous to are idea of fun mostly pranking people not into that sort of stuff sometimes me and Joe would sneak into his room he's pretty good at using computers

Explain

don't worry we just asked him let us see some videos that we are banned on watching well Joe's banned from watching is's nothing that bad and it's not like we scanned anything light drinker doe sometimes we will go to the roof to drink and being nice we invited him to come with us if you refused he would wosh out after half a bottle

Is that even allowed

Ah F*** them

What about jonesy the half cat you seem to be close to jonesy cat

I love jonesy his sweet and cute be honest he Sims more Joe friend seeing that I can't pet him but he's not afraid of me I can always play with him I told him tricks too

What tricks

I taught him to attack on command he wrecked Dr.... face it was hilarious. Moment of silence come on it was funny he only had a scratch

Moving on how about something different about Dr bright and agent Rocky Jones.

Temporary silence

Are you alright

Yes.

I believe rocky was the first person you ever encountered after your condition so to say happened if I believed correctly you two became close friends over the years even after his hair ternd completely grey you use to joke about that and he'd take time to come to see you and often joke about it until he's unfortunate demise unfortunately turned out to be by Dr bright

Rocky was a good man he was sent to like the other mtif soldier he went to the foundation for the sole reason of wanting to help others and protect others he never shot any human and never ever killed anyone even go against orders to save people including civilians and to avoid death casualties

he still experienced poison first time and leaving the second time he cut off his own hand to avoid getting infected again

Ok f*** off that was by accident and so was the second time you can't go 50 years without hitting an accident even if it's twice the actor of him cutting his arm off surprised me he did it so quickly and so swiftly I still feel sorry for him no matter how many times I see his prosthetic arm and no matter how many times he said to me it was ok I couldn't forgive myself for it but he never blame to me I don't know why but you never blam with me I'm Grace's for that

Unfortunately Dr Jack fight thought it would be a good test subject to a SCP due to the lack of D class and he was close to retirement he killed him with an axe and then experimented on his parts with SCP....

Anger: dat no good whatever he is didn't deserve to kill an innocent man and get away with it no matter how high he's clearance I wanted revenge I wanted to bury rocky picked up what's left of him in the acid bath and bury him of cause acid has no effect on me he's a skeleton but still l made sure he had a proper funeral with me Joe, some classes who are kind of nice and some scientists to also didn't like what bight did and missed rocky but he was the closest thing to a funeral I can get And then plotted my plan it was quite easy wait until it's dark nobody around other than the D classes, SCP and Joe distracted him than the clobbered him over the head well Joe bib then we tied him up to a cargo trolley and use my powers to give him a nail fungus I wanted the real pain to be more brutal than anything I have and then we'll come up he said crossword threaten even gloated and I stuck them over the face for that I told him he was going to suffer he said didn't care he's suffered before but I doubt he'd ever suffer like he did there and you could tell him his face he knew he was f***** when he realised what was coming to him a pit full of angry D classes who all had a bone to pick with him and some SCP who are also hated his guts and so didn't take the D classes we tied him up to the trolley made sure he'd couldn't escape and through him into the pit you should have heard him screaming begging for his released and even asking for help but no he was going to suffer just how rocky did .... 10 times worse the fact that I use my powers against him meaning that he wouldn't die butter suffer for round a good 10 hours it's more worse than poison because it's gets revenger gardens Joe and I just sat there watching with show during beer with him and some cigarettes it was the most relaxing thing I ever did for revents in the morning when everyone came and they put them out he's so scared of me after that's incident and it should be

And what you hate doctor bright so much

He's a prick

Oh really because your friend the plague doctor says otherwise

f*** you the plague doctor is not my friend I met him once when I escaped and he escaped in the same time and I found him by chance I only stayed with him after that to stop him from killing more people I didn't stop him from turning the bodies into what the plague doctor called the pestilence and the curd because they're already dead but he is scared of me he felt poison my poison and he's petrified of me

True when we asked about you in an interview with him he did say he was petrified to you but he also said you hate Dr bright to because you envy him you envy everything about him that he's in a SCP and he has the freedom that you can only wish for freedom to see your family the freedom to feel love freedom to have friends without restrictions to socialise and don't need to worry about making somebody have cancer just by giving them a hug and how he's anomalous ability doesn't seem to affect him that much and you hate when he says he feels upset due to his SCP status saying that because you're the only one who understands to suffering through and SCP you haven't seen your family in their decades you didn't even get to go to your parents funeral when font out you escaped to see the graves of the died of natural causes when MTF squad found are you are weeping at the graves they let you stay there a few minutes and then you went by your own recalled you carried on crying 4 weeks after that and as three siblings you don't even know what they look like no picture of them you have nothing

That plague doctor is wise I will give him that destrudo why am I a nice SCP but I'm stuck in here but all just constrictions that any other SCP has but Dr bright probably the worst person and most dumbest person I ever met is allowed almost get away with everything is not fair and that's for the real reason I hate him he says he understands and is sad because of his predicament of being a immortal he doesn't because I'm immortal to his immortality has no chains attached to it it's it's just sad to say just like that me there's always a catch I could just walk out of here with nobody stopping me but the catch is there's always a catch there's nothing for me out there there's no hatred there's no love there's no nothing what's the point of being a immortal if you can't enjoy it the only thing I bring is sickness and sadness I have to worry about giving people cancer just buy hugging them people are scared of me because of my ability and it should be but I feel miserable Dr bright is able to enjoy his life and he dares feels upset because of his predicament he should be god damn lucky he doesn't need to worry about it I didn't himself I have to worry about not only in myself my mental health but also others are not only hurt

is that why you stay here your numbers ability does prevent us from stopping you leaving

Yes

I see

it's also the reason whenever he says he understands pain the SCP feel the pain that he brings other people I make sure he's truly feels pain and he gets punished for his wrong doing

Now can I have my our with Joe

we'll have to see but that there's a lot of checklist to go through they might be even the couple of days who knows weeks until your permission has been approved

Ash I knew I wouldn't be getting to see Joe today but ok have a backup plan I went to Joe cell and talk to him before I came here if getting is interview fails there's always plan b this is breaks out and we go to the roof to enjoy ourselves and private for an hour

What

Gjvd

Rumbling noises lights Go out

Note lights went out due to SCP 1504 sneaking into the control room and the stopping the lights dizzy then escape through her miss form through the ventilation system and the two met on the roof after SCP 1504 took couple of bottles of beer from dr.... office the two stage on the roof remaining hour on deck chairs that SCP 1504 stole from a supply closetthe towards the sunset together was drinking beers a small recording managed to be caught before cameras went off of the two on the roof

SCP 1504 is blue and dizzy is green

So how was the interview

you no it was emotional but at least I got to see you too old friends

to old friends

the two then sheared and continue watching the sunset

End log

#ocs #scp #dizzy

[rightnowyoucanttell]

𝘼𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝘼𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣, 𝙉𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 || .G.D.

(This songs an oldie, but It popped up on my random artist playlist, and I was inspired. Haha, enjoy ig..)

Title: Alone Again, Naturally 

Summary: Veronica Chandler seems to be only destined for heartbreak. After a failed attempt to rebound on her toxic ex, she makes a routine trip to her local 24 hour Starbucks, in which she meets a handsome stranger.. and oh,  who happens to be the spitting image to the photo of the tinder date who stood her up....

Relationship: Grayson Dolan and Veronica Chandler

Word Count: 2,034

Tags (*updated*) : @dzoint ​ @graysavant @blindedbythelightt ​ @tadadolan @heartofalionxo  @beatement-l   @grayswhore @tattoogray ​@saggitariusagirl

Author’s note: First, this is total shit, i’m sorry. Second, I  did the stupidest thing of all time. I gave my OC the same name as the main character in the novel i’m writing on wattpad (to self plug, or not to self plug that is the question; i’ll take self plug for 100, Alex) why am i so stupid? Well, i'm too lazy to change it so. 

Third, i was inspired when the twins talked about dating apps and just like idk where this came from, must be out of my ass because it’s shit. 

I actually laughed at that...

Fourth, feedback is like the most important thing to me, like ever? So, feel free to lmk what y’all think, if this becomes a series I will be taking concepts. 

Veronica Chandler is destined for great things. Planning her future, modeling and working as a struggling actress, she could go off and marry some lawyer. But, the only thing she did seem destined for was heartbreak.

Ronnie knew it had been too soon. Not even a month ago she had broken up with her ex, Jonathan. She also knew this, when she was attracted to a man on tinder with the same name, mostly because of the name. She wasn’t over the man who man who ruined her life to all hell. But, the comfort of a relationship was all she needed and desperately strived for.

Jonathan, was an artist, mad at the world needing to find himself. So, each night he did just so. Jonathan would go out to ‘find himself’ and along the way he found, Roxanne, Malibu, Dianne and Eileen. Jonathan drank, and he would physically and mentally abuse a good strong woman, who for the longest time couldn’t bring herself to walk out of his life.

Each time, from the first to the third she was too lonely, desperate and down on herself to let him loose. But, after he cheated on her with a married forty-year-old woman with four children, that was when Mama Chandler intervened and scared him half to fucking hell. That woman raised no fool, and if she did it was Veronica’s older brother, Noah.  Veronica was just a sad young woman who couldn’t keep a man because they used her.

This night in particular was her rebound date at a local vegan restaurant. A fancy one. With velvet rugs, chandeliers, expensive wines, however with decently sized portions. Veronica stood outside waiting for Jonathan. Who was described in his photo as muscular, a builder with brown hair and eyes and often in there messages boasted about such muscularity.

It was dark. He planned to meet her at 5:30. It was 7:30. Groups passed her. Parties on the street began talking, while the mannequins in store fronts slept under the lights. But, Ronnie was sure, this guy was genuine, and would be the best rebound. 

But, her plans and dreams were foiled when 8:30 hit, she decided to leave embarrassed and ashamed she thought it would turn out differently, she should have known. Her mosquito allergy becoming aggravated just as much as her. She sulked. She never really dressed to impress others, she wore heels, a leather jacket paired with a silk revealing top and boot cuts black jeans. That’s when the heaven on earth shone down upon her, a burning bush of sorts.

           A 24 hour starbucks.

As she walked down the sidewalk slowly, she was tired of being let down; tired of catering to the whims of others, ready to return home and make a stray of financially irresponsible choices online, she entered through the glass doors and into the small shop in Hollywood. The cool yet humid summer air from outside was left behind in the warmth of the shop, that’s when she saw him.

A tall handsome stranger, brown hair and eyes, with muscular arms. She fell for him immediately, he was gorgeous. But, then. Veronica realized something, the same man, the handsome stranger, was either the same person or a bicep by bicep replica of the man she was supposed to meet tonight, at that Vegan restaurant.

The fire fueled deep down, but she ignored it when she got in line to the left of him ready for her Pink Drink and croissant so she could run to the nearest Ralph’s and purchase two tubs of strawberry ice cream, she’d be needing it. The line shifted. She shifted on her feet, he did the same.

Veronica tapped her foot. That’s when the stranger started talking,”Whoah. Slow down there ‘Miss i’m on a mission’.”

His voice was deep and hoarse, he sounded like he had been having a night himself. Veronica ignored the voice that in some ways drew her closer.

“I’m Grayson, By the way..” the named stranger drifted. That’s when Veronica snapped. The man was Jonathan or she thought, and he was ignorant enough to poach the woman he stood up, again, she thought.

“How can you be so arrogant and glib, after everything you’ve done?” Veronica whipped her head to the right of him snapping out of anger and then with no response

“Ah, she’s brave. Calling me arrogant and glib, without even knowing me, cool.” Grayson scoffed and nodded, shrugging it off, and moving forward in the line before stopping yet again.

Ronnie tapped her foot miserable an angry…”Without knowing you? I know you. Your the kind of guy who’s shows up a girl, and breaks the rules because you think it’s cute.”

“Do You think it’s cute?” He lanced over to her smirking a devilish smirk. She scoffed and crossed her arms with her jacket draped over one of them, shaking her head as the crazily long late night line, shifted forward. ‘Grayson’ may have won the battle by showing her up, but his blatant lies would lose the war to Veronica.

“Spare me your routine, i assume that’s what this” she gestured to Grayson,”-cut it out okay? Or, i’ll make your life a living hell.”

“Sorry, not into a relationship at the moment,” he joked before turning back to face the options board, even though his order was almost always the same. Ronnie rolled her eyes. Ronnie's eyes were tired. She felt physically ready whoop this man;s ass, but mentally and emotionally drained.

“And, by the way. No. I do not think it’s fucking cute..” Veronica replied after a few moments of silence. Veronica mumbled cruising, barely audible to Grayson. Veronica was so confused, and so irritated, she didn’t no what to believe. She sighed and went for her phone fumbling for her back pocket, and opening the tinder profile of ‘Jonathan’, “Explain this.”

The screen illuminated a photo of Grayson with the name Jonathan below it. He had still had long hair at this point, right before it’s annoyance shaggy length.Grayson was shirtless in the photo with a chain necklace around his neck. Grayson squinted to examine the photo on the app and chuckled as he passed it back to Veronica.

“You, my dear, got catfished. By someone posing to be, yours truly. I’ve never had tinder and haven’t used a dating app since I was like, fourteen..” Veronica rolled her eyes at his comment before scrunching her brows in confusion but not enough to continue to pry,”..don’t believe me? Search ‘Grayson Dolan’ on instagram or twitter, you’ll owe me an apology.” Grayson snapped as hurt in reply and turned away from the fabric keeping a distance between the two. 

  Grayson felt for Veronica, he could hear the pain in her silence, the sadness in her eyes, the facade of a mask she put on,  even if he didn’t know her name, like her he had been pining for love. The same night he had been dumped via text by his ex girlfriend, also his ghost of days of business past, ex- assistant, before Sterling. He should have known it was a mistake, and Ethan warned him several times, but  much like Veronica with OG Jonathan, he blamed love for his feelings. 

Grayson was tired, wanting to head home with a cup of joe, but this unidentified juliet, across from him caught his eye, and there was no turning back. 

The line shifted. Hesitantly she opened instagram and search the name and she stopped, in her tracks. She owed this man apology, Grayson Dolan, he was a real guy, with a huge following however she never heard of him. She followed him, sighed and put her phone back into her pocket.And yes, he was good looking, she fell for the looks a little more than the name.

“..i--i’m sorry. Guess you were right, I was wrong..” Veronica managed to croak out. Grayson’s phone notified him from his pocket, he checked it smirked, followed her back and placed it back into his pocket.

Grayson looked over to the brunette Brazilian to the right of him. She tapped her foot nervously, as she picked her brain for a better apology. She felt herself loosen, knowing he was just trying to help, and didn’t stood up. Her demeanor changes, this man was a kind stranger who just happened to be the man in the photos she was catfished with, the real Grayson did nothing wrong.

“-., so this Jonathan, what happened?” He asked looking into her dark brown eyes, meaning it. Wanting to know everything about the stranger that made him want to know here. She laughed flashing a smile all the while. Her laugh, Grayson thought. The way she talked and laughed, when she was enjoying herself, it was all so lyrical, it made him want to laugh.

He looked at Veronica, like, really looked at her. The way the lighting reflected on her sparkly eyeshadow. Her dark green eyes, her long luscious and free riding dark brown hair, that had been straightened from its naturally curly form.

“..Well, I uh, met him on Tinder and he stood me up. I just got out of a nast relationship and he was my rebound, but he’s probably some weird guy living in his mother's basement-” she sighed opening up to him. She smiled at her own comedic relief comment. Hiding behind humour was something she did.

Grayson laughed, becoming serious,”I’m sorry, that sucks. What about your ex?”he pried further, there were only three people in front of them, all by themselves, swarmed by the world living in their phones.

“He was a cheater, a drinker and beater, who just so also happened to be named Jonathan..” the negative memories stirred up again in front of her. The pain on her shoulder came back, so did the reminiscence, drawing and pulling her into a melancholy flashback. 

                                                    ~~~

"Where would you like me to go, hmm? Ronnie!" he shoved her to the ground and she fell backwards dislocating her shoulder. She winced in pain, it had pulsated throughout her body. She knew she had to do this, for herself, the well being of herself for once. Did she want to? No. It scared her. He scared her.

Once he got the clout he wanted he changed, he was living off of her earnings, living in her apartment at the time, using her car, and she was forced to nod and smile along with it like some big ugly joke of a play. 

"How about for starters-" she managed between heavy sobs of pain and trying to prop herself against the reclining part of the sofa she was thrown in front of,"..hell? Take your toothbrush and your shave kit, and try some bleach in your cereal, i'm done. Okay? Go away, J!"

                                                            ~~~

Ronnie was back to reality when she heard Gray's voice,"..Safe to assume you have a type, then?"he asked really looking at the beautiful woman in front of his eyes.

 “Yeah. I try so hard but,”Veronica felt sad,” but, i’m never the one.” she felt even sadder memories of her ex flashing before her, she shrugged it off and continued,”…alone again, naturally, I guess.”

Grayson and Veronica were now the first in line,”Hey, let me buy your drink. Maybe we could be alone again, together…” Veronica smiled, and nodded.

“I’d like that..”

                       ~~~   

Later that night the two walked into the humid, yet comfortingly cool, heat together side by side after a two-hour conversation just on life.

“I, uh, better walk to my car.” Veronica said in front of Grayson’s porsche. Her jacket was around her shoulders and covered her arms,”I had fun, tonight” she held out a starbucks napkin she secretly wrote her number on, the wind tossed it gently back and forward. He smiled and breathed out a friendly, good night. He hated to see her go so soon, but would love to watch her leave.

“Wait, I never got your name-”he hollered down into the cold night on the streets of Los Angeles. Veronica turned around and continued walking backwards, her hair following and tracing her every move.

“It’s Veronica.” she breathed before giving him one last look with her deep green eyes and turning back down the sidewalk, heading to her car and driving into the night.

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

Should I make this a series? If so, what to name it, i’m thinking lyrical and each chapter is a song name? lmk. 

AHH i'm nervous to post this, but fuck it, right? No day but today. 

i’ll stop. 

#grayson dolan #Ronnie loves Gray #grayson bailey dolan #grayson dolan au #grayson dolan x oc #grayson dolan imagine #dolan twins #ill probably delete this in the morning #grayson dolan fanfic #dolan twins fanfic #dolan twins fandom