#last time i did this i was in middle school

[ashwhowrites]

Requesting for cliche story fuck boy eddie simping over a nerdy girl. Maybe angst in the middle?

Ugh one of my favorite dynamics to write. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

⚠️no actual smut but talks of it

She's different

Eddie spent years being made fun of and being insecure. In ways, it helped him build a tough shell and made him stronger. But it also made him void of any feelings. He turned cold-hearted and didn't let anyone get close enough to him to hurt him.

He was still a teenager, and he had his own needs. And when his hair grew out and he dressed in chains and leather, more girls were at his feet than he had ever seen. Most girls were from the hideout, groupies that lived to watch him on stage. They threw themselves at him for a chance to get backstage and be under his touch.

Being in a band was the happiest thing that happened to him and he loved the easy access of girls to choose from. School was hell, but the second he was on stage, he was what all the girls wanted. And no one would take that feeling away from him.

~~~

Eddie was half asleep as he sat in class. His hand on his palm as he felt his eyes grow heavier. He had a late night with a girl's name he didn't remember. He moaned in discomfort as he felt her marks still stinging on his back.

"Hi," a soft voice spoke in front of him. He snapped open his eyes to see a girl in front of him. She had glasses, and her hair was down. She wore a little sweater and a skinny pair of jeans.

"Can I help you?" Eddie yawned

"Um..." She said as she looked around the classroom. Everyone is moving to sit with their partners. "We are partners. Were you listening?" She asked with a little giggle.

Eddie couldn't help but smile as the sound left her lips. He had to admit, for a quiet nerd, she was adorable.

"I was not, but take a seat," he said with a smile. He used his foot to push out the chair next to him. She moved delicately as she put down her books and sat next to him. He smelled her perfume and examined her even closer. She had these big curious eyes, a soft nose, and incredibly pink lips, and her skin looked soft.

"Well..." She began to explain everything he missed. He tried to listen, but he couldn't stop watching as her lips moved to form the words. He nodded along as she continued to talk.

She turned her head to look at him, she felt her face burn as he stared at her with a small smile on his face.

She coughed and removed her eyes from his. "So! Let's start."

~~~

By the third day of working together, Eddie loved saying her name. He loved how sweet it sounded as it left his tongue.

He was shocked to find himself so lost in her. Not that being a nerd was bad, he used to be one. But he never thought of himself being attractive while being a nerd. But God, did she do it well.

He was captivated by how smart she was. Way too smart to be in his class. She was mature and he could tell by the way she spoke with a high vocabulary. She didn't make him feel dumb, which was different. She was sweet and took the time to explain anything he didn't understand.

He was smitten.

~~~

Five days into working together he wanted more. He wanted to see her outside of school, outside of her shell. He wanted to see how she looked in the outside world and how her personality might change. He wondered if she had another side of her. A side that didn't stress about grades and let loose.

"What are you doing tonight?" He asked, not realizing he cut her off as she explained another part of the project. He was too lost in his head as he thought about her.

She closed her mouth and gave her answer a thought.

"Well, it's Friday so nothing." She laughed, "Why do you ask? Are you worried we won't finish? Because we have five minutes and just one last paragraph." She explained as she pushed up her glasses.

"Nah, respectfully, I could care less about this project," he chuckled, "I want to hang out, just the two of us and not focus on the project."

She froze as she looked over at him. His eyes sparkled and the sun shined perfectly on his face.

"Why would you want that?" She nervously asked. She couldn't form a single idea why he would want to hang out with her. She wasn't anywhere near his usual crowd of friends.

"Because I want to get to know you. I was thinking about a date?" He offered. He felt a little nervous and didn't understand why. Asking out girls was something he could do in his sleep, but she had his stomach fluttering and his hands sweaty.

He felt more nervous as he waited for her answer.

"Why not," she smiled. She clicked her pen and grabbed his hand. He flinched a little as the pen tickled his hand as she wrote down her phone number.

"Call me," she smiled as she picked up her stuff. A second later the bell rang and she was gone in a flash.

Eddie bit back his smile as he looked down at his hand. Her number and a little heart written next to it. He jumped out of his seat, a bounce in his step as he walked out.

~

Eddie didn't realize he was causing much of a commotion until Wayne walked into his disaster room.

"Edward, what in the hell are you doing?" Wayne asked as he took in the sight of Eddie's room. Clothes were thrown everywhere, and shoes were missing their pairs.

"I'm trying to find a nice shirt but everything is a band!" Eddie cussed to himself.

Wayne couldn't help the smile that went across his face, "And why do you all of a sudden need a nice shirt?" He was young once, and he knew exactly why his nephew was stressed.

"Don't look at me like that," Eddie groaned as he yanked off his shirt and added it to the no pile.

"What's her name?" Wayne asked, he leaned against the door with his arms crossed.

"Y/N," Eddie sighed, "I asked her out and I have nothing to wear!"

"Looks to me like you have a lot of options," Wayne laughed, "But what if we go get a nice shirt? I'll take you."

Eddie looked at his watch, he had a good few hours before he needed to leave.

"Fine but we don't speak of it," Eddie said as he pointed at Wayne.

Eddie's leg shook in the car as they pulled up to the small strip mall.

"How come you are this nervous?" Wayne asked as he got out of the car. "We share a wall so I know you aren't shy with many girls."

Eddie blushed in embarrassment, and he mumbled an apology.

"She's different, I guess." Eddie shrugged, he walked behind Wayne as they walked into the shop.

~

Eddie stood in front of the mirror as he sprayed on cologne. He used water to pat down his hair, and he ran his hands over his new button-up.

He was nervous but he was excited.

Wayne wished him luck as he walked out the door. Eddie got in his van and headed to the address she gave over the phone. His heart raced when he talked to her for a few seconds. He was not sure what he was going to do when he was with her all night.

Before he knew it he was outside her door and knocking.

"Hi, Eddie," she smiled as she opened the door. "You look very handsome." She was surprised to see him in something else other than a band shirt and ripped jeans.

"Oh, thank you," he smiled, "you look wonderful." His eyes skimmed up and down her body. She wore a simple and casual dress. It was white with little sunflowers. It matched her personality. She wore her glasses and light makeup.

"Thank you," she smiled.

Eddie gestured for her to walk in front of him, they walked to his van and got inside. She listened to his music as he drove to the location of their date. She was nervous. She had never been on a date before and definitely not with a guy like Eddie.

"I hope you like water," Eddie said, Y/N looked out the windshield and saw that there was a little pond. He got out of the van and opened her door. She thanked him as she got out. She waited as he grabbed a basket from his backseat.

He led them down a little hill, his hand holding hers as she wobbled.

Once they made it to the flat ground, he let go of her hand. He reached into the basket and pulled out a blanket. He threw it on the ground and offered her to sit first.

She smiled as she sat down, smoothing down her dress to cover her thighs. Eddie sat next to her and took out a few snacks from the basket.

Within an hour they were talking like they knew each other for years. Eddie was learning so much about her and it made him like her even more. She had an amazing personality and she was funny. She made Eddie laugh so hard that water came out of his nose. Which made her laugh so hard she had to hold her stomach.

She didn't think she had ever been so happy to be with someone.

And for once, Eddie loved getting to know someone.

As another hour passed, Eddie's urgers got the best of him. She was telling a story and he was lost in her eyes. The way the moon shined down on her and the sound of the water, it couldn't get more romantic in his eyes.

Eddie didn't notice he was leaning in until she froze. He looked down at her lips as he closed the space between them. He softly kissed her lips, and his hands reached forward to wrap around her waist.

She was nervous but she kissed him back. Her hands shook as she moved her arms around his neck. She was new to this and she wasn't sure how to kiss him back. But as he kissed her harder, she got the hang of it.

The kiss got heated as he slipped his tongue into her mouth, she shivered and was surprised to hear a moan slip from her throat.

Eddie took the moan as a green light to move forward. His hands moved down to her thighs and began to slip under her dress.

Her lips stopped and she yanked back. Her hands stopped his hands from moving even further.

"Don't be nervous," he whispered, he went to attach his lips to hers again but she turned her head.

"I'm not, It's our first date, Eddie. I don't want to rush anything." She explained honestly.

"It's not rushing. I do this on all my first dates." Eddie shrugged like it wasn't a big deal.

Y/N felt a blow hit her chest. All of his dates? How many has he been on? How many had he brought to this exact spot?

"You're a pig," she scoffed as she shoved him off of her. She stood up.

"Woah, what's going on?" He asked as he stood up. He wasn't aware his fuck boy ways were sneaking out of him.

"Absolutely nothing anymore," she glared, "take me home." She marched to his van without a glance back.

~

The car ride was silent. She didn't speak a word, just stared out the window.

She should have known better.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked as he pulled up to her house.

"I'll see you Monday." She spat as she got out and slammed his door.

"Y/N!" he yelled after her as he got out. He grabbed her arm and turned her around.

"What did I do?" he asked genuinely.

"I do this on all my dates," she mocked, her voice deep as she repeated his words. "I should have known it was all an act."

The realization smacked him in the face.

"Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push like that." His eyes were soft as he apologized. "None of it is an act! I really like you and I'm not used to feeling that way. I'm used to something different, you know?"

"Maybe you need to figure out everything you feel, and maybe we can talk when you are ready to face those feelings." She smiled sadly and pecked his cheek. He watched as she walked inside.

~~~

The next night Eddie was all over the place. He performed and ran straight to the bar. He wanted to drink his sorrows away. He had one shot and he blew it. He showed just how washed up he was. He slammed down his shot and called for another.

"Hard night?" A random girl asked as she sat next to him. He turned his head to take in the blonde.

"Yep," he said, slamming down his second shot.

"Let me make you feel better," she whispered into his ear.

~

Eddie sat in the back of his van with the random girl on his lap. Her lips were on his neck, but everything felt wrong.

He wasn't enjoying it, and it wasn't making him forget about her. He tried to close his eyes, but all he saw was her sweet smile as they laughed by the water.

He stopped the girl's hands as they went for his belt.

"I can't do this. I'm sorry," he said, he didn't look at her as he grabbed his shirt and slipped it on.

"Are you serious? Since when?" the girl scoffed

"Have you ever really liked someone? Not like being in love, but in that area where you can see yourself falling in love with them?" He asked, the girl sighed and slipped on her shirt.

"Yeah. Chances are if you can already see yourself falling in love, it'll happen. You stuck in that spot?" She asked

"You know my reputation around here. I fuck and move on. She's different. I asked her out and we had an amazing date, then I fucked it up." He sighed, "Not sure how to fix it."

"Admitting it to yourself is the first step,"

"And the next?" he asked

"You admit it to her."

~~~

Monday morning arrived and Eddie was ready to win her back.

Since the project was finished, she wouldn't be sitting next to him. But that was not going to stop him.

He wrote a little note this morning, asking to meet outside during lunch. He walked in and saw her already sitting at her spot. He took a deep breath and handed the note to her.

She looked up at him but didn't say a word.

Eddie walked back to his desk. All throughout class he kept looking back at her.

~

Eddie waited outside and checked his watch. Lunch started ten minutes ago and she wasn't there. He was nervous he might have messed up too much and that she didn't care to fix it. She probably realized he wasn't worth the hassle or the emotions he caused.

He crunched the flowers in his grip as he looked over his shoulder.

"Hi,"

He heard her soft voice before he saw her. He turned around and smiled as she walked closer.

He was nervous as he handed her the flowers, "these are for you."

"Thanks," she said quietly as she took the flowers from his hands.

"I'm really sorry for acting like a dick. You were right, I needed to figure out everything I felt. I went to the bar and I met someone."

Y/N ignored the pain she felt as she listened.

"My plan was to do what I always did. Sleep with someone until I forgot why I was there in the first place. But I stopped it because it felt wrong. I hated myself for being with her. I kept thinking of you." He stepped closer as he held her hand.

"I was doing the wrong thing and with the wrong person. And it made me realize, that I really like you. And I want my main focus to be just on you. I want you." He looked deep into her eyes. "I would love to have the chance to take you out again. I've never actually been on a date, that was my first real one. I know I fucked up the beautiful night we had, but I really think I can make you feel special."

"I guess there's no harm in giving it a shot." She smiled

Eddie jumped to his feet with excitement.

"Thank you!" he crushed her in a hug as she laughed.

~~~

They had been dating for a month and Eddie was true to his word. She felt more special than ever and it was all because of him.

She felt a little nervous as they walked into the hideout. He was honest about his past here and the reputation he had. But she wanted to be a supportive girlfriend and watch him perform. She had to try to forget about all the girls there and just focus on her man.

"The second I'm done, I will be coming straight to you," he smiled. He leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. She was in a territory where Eddie was never taken, and she wanted to prove herself.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him harder. She wasn't shy as she snuck her tongue in his mouth. Her body rocked against his as his hands landed on her ass.

He felt his head spin as she pulled away. His eyes slowly opened as he caught his breath

"What was that?" he asked, his eyes dark as he drank her in

"Good luck kiss," she said with a shrug and smirk

"I'm going to need luck hiding the front of my pants," he teased as he adjusted his tight jeans.

"I'll help you faster," she whispered in his ear. She enjoyed the way he shuddered.

He kept his eyes on her as he walked into the back.

~

She understood why so many girls adored her boyfriend. The way he performed was incredible. It was hard to look anywhere else.

She waited at a table in the back as he wrapped up. His sweaty body came walking towards her but a girl stepped in.

Y/N couldn't hear the conversation but she could tell the girl was flirting by the way she ran her hand up Eddie's arm.

Then another girl came after that one left. And then other.

Y/N felt sick as she watched countless girls walk up and flirt with him. It was a painful reminder of what Eddie's past was.

She was quick to run outside, needed fresh air and to be away from the scene she was stuck watching over and over.

Eddie was quick to push everyone aside and follow her out.

"Hey baby," he said softly, she was leaning against the wall.

"You were amazing!" she praised as she pulled him into a hug. Eddie hugged her back and thanked her. He pulled back but kept his arms around her.

"Want to tell me what happened in there?" Eddie asked

Y/N sighed and looked down at her feet

"I was just a little jealous."

"Why? You are my girlfriend, they've got nothing on you." Eddie explained

Y/N scoffed and unhooked her arms from him.

"They have all had sex with you, Eddie! They've got plenty on me. I mean, I am nothing like those girls."

"Exactly!" Eddie said as he placed his hands on her face. "I don't want you to be anything like them. I want you because you are you. Yes, I've been physical with them, but that is all. There is no connection or emotional ties. It's different with you because I really see myself falling in love with you."

"Really?" she smiled as she looked up at him.

"Of course." He said as he crashed his lips on hers. She moaned as she kissed him back, her hands in his hair.

After a few seconds, she pulled away. Smirking as he chased her lips. She had him right around her finger.

"You know..." she started, her hands slipped down his body and rested on top of his jeans. "Maybe I'll eliminate the one thing they have on me." Her smirk made Eddie shiver in excitement.

"As in sex?" Eddie choked out. His eyes lit up like Christmas as he practically bounced with anticipation.

"Van, now." She said as she turned around and walked towards his fan.

He watched her walk away with a dopey smile on his face.

"YOU COMING?" she yelled as she turned. She walked backward and kept her eyes on him. She laughed as he seemed to snap out of his daydream. He fished out his keys and dropped them on the floor.

"SHIT, I'M COMING!" he screamed as he bent down and grabbed his keys.

She giggled as he ran straight to the van.

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #ashwhowrites #fuck boy eddie munson! x reader #fuck boy eddie!

[pretty-blkgirl]

It’s probably a stupid idea but imagine your at a Stray Kids concert, and your front row with your friends. Chan comes close to the edge on stage near you and winks to you. You think nothing of it because like he does that to everyone. But at the end of the concert he slips you a piece of paper with 1 single sentence. “After the concert, go to Hotel Grande and go to room B6.” You decide to go bc why not and you expect maybe Chan there or something but all of them are there, and they all are really horny. They always talk about wanting to date someone who knows nothing about stray kids but what if Stays are the ones who turn them on. Fem reader

Say Yes [Part One]

//fem!reader x 0t8!Skz//

Synopsis: You get slipped a note from your favorite idol to meet him at his hotel room, but he’s not the only one there

Genre: smut/suggestive, crack, fluff

Warnings: sexual situations, reader uses she/her pronouns

A/N: thank you @seoyeonleexoxo for the requestttt 🫶🏾

~~~~|~~~~

It was your first Stray Kids concert. Two straight years of saving up every spare dollar you had and camping out on Twitter for ticket sales finally paid off. Not only did you secure your tickets, but you and your friends got the front row- something you dreamed about since you started becoming a fan of Stray Kids.

You were beyond excited to see every member, but your bias -Bang Chan- was the one you were dreaming about. You know how he likes to flirt with stays, and you being in the front row meant you had a good chance at being noticed.

Hyunjin asked for stays to wear blue to the show, so you chose a solid baby blue romper that showed off every curve that you had. Your hair was out in wild, big curls and you chose simple silver jewelry.

The concert started with “Hall of Fame,” and you wasted no time in screaming your head off when the boys came into view.

The entire thing felt like a dream, and you got light-headed whenever a member got close to you. Sometime during Cheese, Chan came to your section to wave at Stays. You smiled so hard your cheeks hurt as you waved aggressively at him. He saw you and wasn’t shy about the quick once-over he gave you, then he winked before moving on to interact with other fans.

Your knees felt wobbly, and you could feel the way your friends stared at you after that interaction.

“Did he just wink at you?” Mia, the friend you’ve known since childhood asked.

“I think so,” you say, “Or maybe it was someone behind me?”

You turn around to see a good chunk of people looking right back at you. Some are envious and some curious, but all confirm the fact that Bang Chan just winked at you.

“He wants you girl” Tianna, your best friend since middle school, teases. You can’t help but roll your eyes once the boys go backstage to change. The lights in the stadium come on as you look to the screens to see the Stay games starting.

The first game has stays copy the boys' poses, you and your friends laugh as flustered fans appear on screen. Soon enough, the next game starts, a game where stays must do the choreography to random Skz songs.

This is the part of the concert you weren’t looking forward to, so you duck your head and try to stay clear of any cameramen. Some people scream and wave their arms to be put on screen, and you can only hope they get picked as the laughing staff goes to pick out people.

After three people dance to Gods Menu, Maniac, and Thunderous, you start to relax and enjoy the game. The last song, S-Class, comes up and you and your friends dance along to the practice video shown. After they show the video, you find yourself on screen smiling before pure terror graces your face.

You can’t even hear what the members are saying to you before your friends urge you to dance.

Did you do the choreography correctly? No. Were your friends dying laughing the entire time? Yes.

“Good job” You hear Han’s unmistakable voice say, “You’re so cool”

“And pretty” Felix’s deep voice continues before your face is replaced with the regular Skz logo

“Oooooh” Tianna teases, “You’re cool AND pretty? I’m jealous”

“You got three members fighting over you” Mia exclaims

“Hush” You stress, feeling glares on you, “It’s just fan service”

Tianna rolls her eyes, “Usually fan service involves all the fans”

The lights in the place dim, signaling the group is about to come back on stage. The glares you feel cease as the people around you start to scream their heads off

“Not all the time” you manage to say before the show continues.

In all honesty, you had a great time at the concert. The boys came over to your section a lot, especially Chan.

You didn’t want to believe he was making eye contact with you, and only you. However, it was hard to ignore the obvious looks he kept throwing your way. After a while, you began to count the amount of times his eyes found you in the audience; 25 times.

In a room full of thousands of people, how did he manage to look at you so many times? All your most delusional fantasies came to mind, thoughts that reminded you of when you first started to become a fan.

Cute thoughts of walking down the aisle with a member, some cute dates, and even a passing thought of a family. Just niche little things that crossed your mind as you fell more and more in love with the group.

Then there were the not-too-wholesome thoughts, the ones where you’re usually crying and begging to reach your release after hours upon hours of edging. These thoughts kept you up at night and usually involved more than one member.

You suddenly felt so dirty. Thinking about your idols in such a way while they throw kisses at the fans on the stage in front of you. You barely notice the lights come on and people start to leave the venue.

“That was so good” Tianna gushed, looking at you with a playful expression on her face. You knew the walk back to your hotel would be filled with your friends only reaffirming your delusions.

“I’m jealous y/n. I’d love to have Bang Chan eye-fucking me all night long” Mia said, making your face heat up.

You three walked out of the building and joined a crowd of fans waiting for the boys’ cars to leave the stadium.

“What if Chan comes out of the car and confesses his love for you?” Tianna teases

Mia giggles hysterically as the two continue with their joking, not paying attention as you’re flagged down by what looks to be a security guard.

“Is he asking me to come over there?” You ask your friends, making them stop and look at the staff.

“Looks like it” Tianna shrugs, “I think he was the security guard over by our section. Maybe you dropped something?”

You nod and jog over to the guard, looking back at your friends just to make sure they’re keeping an eye on you.

“Hello,” You say politely, “Can I help you?”

“You dropped this,” The guard says, handing you a mini quokka plushie that you’re only now noticing isn’t in your jacket pocket.

“Thank you so much!” You say, taking the plushie and beginning to walk off, that is until he grabs your attention again.

“I was asked to give this to you as well,” He says, handing you a rather thick envelope, “Put it in your pocket”

Before you can question it, he bows and walks off to where the other staff stands.

With your brain on autopilot, you stuff the envelope in your pocket and go back to your friends.

Mia wastes no time in asking what happened, and you tell them he gave you back your stuffed animal.

For whatever reason, you fail to mention the envelope in your pocket, and you silently celebrate when Tianna suddenly exclaims her stomach hurts and she wants to go back to the hotel.

The walk back is short, and you’re grateful that you all invested in your rooms.

The first thing you do is take out the envelope and open it. You see two folded pieces of paper.

One of them is a picture, one of the group that you’ve never seen before. It’s signed, and you instinctively look on the back and is surprised to see a message

“Go to the Hotel Grande, second floor, room B6, knock 4 times."

Already taken aback, you look at the other piece of paper to find an NDA.

“Oh my God” you whisper, quickly pulling out your phone to search the directions of the hotel. Only a 10-minute drive.

“This could be a trick,” You think out loud, “What if I get hurt?”

The rational side of you is urging you to think about the consequences of showing up to a random hotel, but the wild and unpredictable side of you quickly orders yourself an Uber and touches up your makeup.

#skz bang chan #skz changbin #skz felix #skz han #skz hyunjin #skz jeongin #skz lee know #skz seungmin #skz x reader #skz minho #stray kids fake texts #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #stray kids texts #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids scenarios #stray kids reactions #stray kids imagine #stray kids #skz #skz poly x reader #skz angst #skz fanfic #skz fake texts #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz smut #skz stay #skz fluff

[loveharlow]

SEVEN [SEASON 2] - 002 (PART 1)

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[8.2k] A trip to Charleston leads to a wild chase through Kooksville and an unexpected reunion that turns the pogues worlds upside down, amongst other heartbreaking events...

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of death, mentions of firearms, unestablished relationship, poor communication, tw // jiara mentioned, mild angst

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ don't shoot me pookies, it's for plot value😬

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

IT WAS THE NEXT MORNING AND THE FOUR OF YOU WERE RIGHT BACK IN MR. SUNN’S CLASS. You had a permanent smile on your face from last night and something had shifted between you and JJ in the hours between then and now. While you were driving to school in the car you two had fixed up together, you’d made a joke about him being your passenger princess, the blonde laughing and then absentmindedly planting his hand on your thigh for the rest of the ride.

You were starting to feel like yourself after weeks of walking around like a ghost and you were holding out hope that after this was all over, once the cloud passed fully, that you could give JJ the answer he deserved. 

Right now, you were muffling laughs as Mr. Sunn rambled about the current unit topic, you and JJ sending tiktoks back and forth, phones hidden under the desks. 

“Mr.Sunn,” A man emerged in the open doorway, dressed down in a suit with an envelope between his fingers. Your laughter died as your attention went to him. “Can I borrow Mr. Heyward for a moment?”

The teacher looked dumbfounded between Pope and the man at the door, chalk clutched between his fingers. “Uh, we’re in the middle of a lesson.”

“My apologies, it won't be long. I’m from the Vanderhorst Foundation, Mr.Heyward was previously in the running for our scholarship.” He pressed once more, Mr.Sunn sighing and giving in, motioning for Pope to get up. Pope looked at the three of us before getting and leaving the room. 

Your eyes met JJ’s across the room, both shrugging. Kiara was too engrossed with trying to peek out of the door from her seat. Even though the classroom was fairly quiet, it was still too far to hear any part of the conversation. 

Maybe he was there to offer Pope another chance which would be, for one, great but also impeccably poor timing. You glanced up at your teacher as his attention turned back to the board, slouching in your chair and shooting a text in the group chat the four of you had.

You

think they’re giving him his spot back?

Kie

doubt it, the deadline’s more than dead :/

JJ

maybe they still want him, pope’s a certified genius

Just then, Pope came power walking back into the classroom, turning a few heads as he did so. He practically fell into his seat, turning around to face you, JJ, and Kie, holding the envelope the man from the foundation had in his hand just minutes ago — flipping it to reveal the very same wheat symbol that was branded into the gold bars.

“What the fu-” JJ started, gaining the attention of Mr.Sunn who had very teacher like expression of warning, causing JJ to trip over his words. “Fu-fudge…” He cleaned up. The teacher gave him a look and turned back around in his chair.

“We’ll talk about it after class.” Pope whispered, nodding and turning around his seat. 

THE FOUR OF YOU BOOKED IT TO THE LIBRARY AS SOON AS THE BELL RANG, the middle-aged hag of a librarian shushing you at the door. You found an empty table and crowded it as soon as possible, all ears waiting on Pope.

“That was the guy from the scholarship committee.” He started, putting the envelope in the middle of the table. “But that’s not all. Read it.” He urged, JJ being the first to swipe up the letter but he hesitated to read. You were sat next to him, the both of you across from Kie and Pope, so you leaned over his shoulder.

“What? What’s wrong?” You asked. JJ angled the paper in your direction, eyeing the two people in front of him nervously as you immediately spotted the problem — the letter was written in cursive. JJ couldn’t read cursive. “Oh, it’s fine, I got it.” You reassured, gently taking the letter from the blonde’s hands.

“What?” Kiara asked, brown eyes fleeting between the both of you. JJ shook his head, wiping his palms on the fabric of his cargo shorts.

“Nothin’. I just, I can’t read cursive.” He dismissed cooly but you could tell the subject made him slightly insecure. “What does it say?” He deflected, looking back at you.

You cleared your throat before reading, paper clutched between both of your hands. “Dear Mr.Heyward, I am reaching out because I may have material evidence that can exonerate John Booker Routledge…” You trailed off, shocked eyes meeting those around the table before you continued reading. “...It is of vital importance that you come and meet with me in person at my offices at twenty-seven King Street, Charleston at eight PM sharp, tonight. Please come alone…?” Your face twisted at that. No way in hell was that happening. “Regards, C.Limbrey.”

“Charleston?” JJ exclaimed incredulously, eyeing Pope’s endlessly pacing figure. “That’s like an eight-hour drive.”

“Plus, the ferry.” You added. “If you want any chance of getting there tonight we’d have to leave, like, right now.” 

“I have a free period.” Kie shrugged, sighing. “I gotta tell my mom, though…”

“Alright but guys?” You piped up, meeting each of their eyes before continuing. “If we get it this time, there’s no way in hell we are giving it to Shoupe. It's gotta go to higher ups or some shit.” 

“Agreed.” JJ nodded, standing from his seat and grabbing his backpack, you following his lead before Pope, who was crouched in front of the library computer, spoke up.

“I think whoever this Limbrey person is, they might be related to the captain of the Royal Merchant.” He told the three of you, JJ and you sharing a look before rounding the table to stand behind the boy at the computer, a webpage pulled up — a biography for ‘Captain Herman Limbrey’. 

Well. Charleston it is, then. 

“I AM SO SICK OF THIS SHIT!” Kiara’s mom’s voice traveled through the rolled down windows of Heyward’s truck. You, JJ, and Pope were sat with the music playing lowly as Kiara attempted to reason with her parents about where she was going. 

The family of three was visible from the driveway, but you could no longer hear the conversation as their voices lowered. 

“They’re takin’ it really well.” JJ quipped sarcastically. You were sat in the middle of the two boys, Heyward’s truck not having a backseat made this drive even more dreadful. “How’d you get this rig?” The blonde asked the boy in the driver’s seat, referring to his father’s truck. “I know your old man didn’t let you have it.”

Pope spoke absentmindedly, eyes too focused on the girl arguing with her parents some feet away. “I undid the intake valves on the carburetor, made it start pinging.” 

JJ nodded his head in approval, shifting his weight in the seat. “Mm, and now you’re just gonna 'take it to your cousin Jeff’s house, just gonna get it fixed, and crash overnight’.” He suggested to which Pope agreed. “I think I’m rubbin’ off on you, Pope. Lyin’ to your old man, stealin’ his truck…”

You quickly nudged the blonde in his side, shooting him a look. He held his hands up in mock surrender and bowed his head. “Ma bad. Sore subject.”

Pope simply sighed, tipping the hat on his head. “I’d say we have about eighteen hours before my pops loses his shit. So long as we get it back before then, we should be good.” Just then, Kiara came storming in the direction of the vehicle, yelling at her parents over her shoulder.

“I’m not going to boarding school!” She shouted, JJ opening the door for the both of you to get out and allow her into the car but she paused in her tracks when her dad began shouting.

“Look at your life, right now! Look at your life!” Kiara looked around at the three of you and then back at her father, shrugging carelessly and not sparing a word. Pope then peeked his head out of the driver’s side window. 

“I, um, I promise to have her back at a reasonable hour and safe.” He threw out, holding his hand up as if he was asking permission. Kiara looked at him, shaking her head. 

“Kiara, listen to me,” Her mother started, not exactly yelling but her voice traveled clearly. “You wanna go? Then go. But if you don’t come back at the proper time, then don’t. Come back. At all!”

You turned to Kie from your place next to JJ. “Hey, don't even worry about it. It’s the same threat each time, you know they won’t go through with it.” You told her quietly, in hopes of not offending her parents but offering her some sort of comfort. 

Kiara didn’t say a word as she ducked into the car, you piling in as JJ squished himself in next to you. 

“This shit would be so much easier without parents...” She scoffed, throwing her bag down on the car floor as JJ shut the passenger side door.

You and him both shared a look, knowing Kie probably didn’t fully think about what she was saying or who was around. You both grimaced at one another before looking away.

“God, 's so hot in here.” She complained throwing her head back. “Remind me why we didn’t take your car again?” She directed the question at you. “I mean, isn’t it drive-able now? You and JJ spent like every day working on it…”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t have the willpower to make it to Charleston and back just yet.” You told her with a small shrug. The girl simply groaned, trying to adjust herself in between you and Pope so it wasn’t so tight.

“Okay, could you stop moving like that? It’s making it hard to drive.” Pope inquired, pulling out of her driveway and heading down the road.

“There’s no space dude, there’s twice as many people in here than this car was built for.”

“Okay, JJ and Y/N, can you guys lap up or something?” The suggestion almost made you cough. Sitting on JJ’s lap for the next few hours did not seem like a good idea, considering recent events.

“Why can’t she sit on my lap?” Kiara asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Because she’ll block the rearview.” Pope threw out, annoyance growing in his tone. 

You looked to JJ for some kind of reassurance, he simply nodded and motioned his hands for you to come on. The car was still moving so you tried your best to be careful, the blonde spreading his legs to make a little more room for you to sit between them.

Once you had yourself settled, it was almost like JJ didn’t know where to put his hands. He had them planted on his on thighs beforehand so he accidentally laid a hand on your thigh before quickly removing it.

“My bad.” He muttered nervously. You could see his face faintly in the passenger side mirror.

“It’s fine. I don’t mind. I’m the one kind of in your space, right now.” You shrugged, trying your best to come off nonchalant, as if this whole scenario didn’t make your heart go crazy. 

“You sure? I mean, I got pockets, I can just-”

“It’s cool, JJ.” You cut him off reassuringly, the blonde hesitating before letting his hand make home on your thigh. You didn’t know how to sit, if you should lean back on him, anything. But you figured if you made it awkward, it was going to be awkward. So you took a deep breath and simply leaned back into him, the boy making no protest about the movement. 

The only thing you couldn’t ignore was the growing erection that was pressing against your leg, harder by the minute. Heyward’s truck was no smooth riding vehicle, so the ride was quite bumpy. You could still see JJ’s face in the passenger side mirror and he looked mortified.

Neither of you were stupid — if you could feel it, you knew he definitely could. And if he could feel it, he felt terrible knowing you could too.

“I’m so fucking sorry.” He muttered out, coming out more like a sigh as he ran a hand down his face. You shifted your eyes to the left to see Kie on her phone and Pope was too occupied with driving, probably deep in thought about how much trouble he was going to be in if his pops found out about all this.

“It’s-” You cleared your throat before speaking, shrugging one shoulder. “It’s fine. Shit happens.”

“Nah, it’s not.” He groaned. “I can try and move so you can sit more on the seat-”

You cut him off quickly. “We’ll be at the Ferry dock soon. Honestly, JJ. Don’t sweat it.” You said finally.

The action did make a small well of discomfort bubble in your stomach with your last sexual encounter being non consensual and traumatizing. Just because it was JJ didn't quell any of your anxiety but you were trying not to live life as a victim.

A few deep breaths and you were calming down.

You could understand his humiliation and had your relationship with him been in different place, maybe you two would have laughed it off. But with this newfound depth of your “friendship”, it had you both sitting in silence the rest of the ride.

“MY PARENTS ARE SO PARANOID ABOUT ME BEING A POGUE LIKE IT’S THE WORST THING THAT COULD EVER HAPPEN…” Kiara complained leaning against the passenger door of the truck. The four of you had it made it to the ferry just in time to catch the current ride. You and JJ, who was rolling a blunt, were sat in the back of the pick-up truck across from one another, Pope leaning on the side paying the three of you no mind. The awkwardness between you two had alleviated by the time you reached The Ferry, but the situation still lingered in your mind.

Seagulls squawked as the boat sailed the water, the sizable ship making its way slowly but surely. 

“Hey, I hear they got good weed at boarding schools, though.” He replied optimistically. “Y’know, ‘cause all the rich kids got a shit ton of money to blow.”

Kie shrugged, dismissing the blonde’s hopeful piece of information. “I’m not going to boarding school.” She protested firmly. “If they want me to go, they’ll have to kidnap me. I don’t even know what their problem is. I mean, my dad was a pogue, you know that, obviously…” She trailed off, throwing an arm out in your direction. “They’re so hypocritical and overbearing. Why can’t my parents be more like yours?”

You couldn’t contain your expression of offense at Kiara’s words, the statement flowing so freely from her lips. So carelessly. “...You want a dead father and an underlying criminal mother who couldn’t give less of a shit about you?” The question was rhetorical but you wondered how she planned on explaining herself.

“Of course not, I didn’t mean it like that.” She cocked her head as if you were being unreasonable. “It’s just that, you can’t deny that this whole thing has been easier for you without parents watching your every move and breathing down your neck. That’s... all I was saying...”

You drew your lips into a thin line, arms crossing defensively. “Okay, well, my dad was murdered and my mother probably had something to do with it. Not to mention she tried to kill me, so not having two parents hasn't really been a choice for me, Kiara. But hey, ‘can’t deny that this whole thing has been easier’ for it, right?”

“I wasn’t saying-” She tried to defend with half a scowl on her face before Pope jumped in, JJ tapping your shoulder and offering you the blunt he’d been preparing. You took his from between his fingers, taking a long drag as Pope spoke.

“Okay, can we not argue? Please? I’m already mildly seasick enough as is.” He suggested, Kiara muttering a ‘fine’ under her breath as she adjusted her ponytail. “Kie, have you tried to hit JB back on that number?”

“Like, twenty-million times.” She groaned. “Some random lady at a hotel keeps picking up the phone.” 

Pope sighed, shifting his weight. “Well, until they contact us again, we gotta keep trying to clear John B’s name. Right now? This letter is our best bet.” He concluded, rubbing his hands over his head. You turned slightly to be able to see him, offering the joint to the boy.

His eyes fleeted between Kie and the smoking object, contemplating. She simply crossed her legs and arms, offering the boy a mischievous smile. “What Pope are you gonna be today?” She asked.

He seemed to ponder for a few more moments before shaking his head, you retracting the blunt and passing it back to JJ as he spoke to Kiara. “I’m good, gotta stay focused.” 

“I’ll take that.” JJ offered himself up, plucking the rolled object from your fingers with a smile.

Kiara simply nodded, her smile flattening out into a grimace. “Good Pope…” She said. “Boring Pope.” And you didn’t miss the way Pope’s face fell.

“I’VE READ THIS LIKE A THOUSAND TIMES AND IT STILL MAKES NO SENSE.” Kie explained from her place between Pope and JJ, you once again on the blonde’s lap as Pope cruised through Charleston. You’d gotten off the ferry a few hours ago, the sun now lower in the sky. “The Limbrey’s own like half of Charleston. What do some elite Kooks from Charleston known about a murder on Kildare?”

“I’m more concerned about why Pope specifically?” JJ questioned, eyes looking up at the driver. 

“Yeah. ‘Please come alone’? That’s off-putting, to say the least.” You added, sitting almost slanted in JJ’s lap in order to lean on the door. You were both a little hazy from the weed so your nerves were a lot calmer. 

“I had the same thought.” Pope chipped in. “I was thinking it’s probably because-” He cut himself off as a cloud of smoke erupted from the hood of his dad’s truck, blinding the road ahead. “Aw, shit, come on!”

“Pull over.” Kie demanded. “Jesus, that’s a lot of smoke. Even for your dad’s truck…” JJ began cough, you using your hand to cover his mouth as he rolled up the window. When he had it successfully rolled up, he gently removed your hand from his mouth. 

“Pope, I got sensitive lungs, dude.” He coughed out. A filter of smoke filled the car, you trying to wave it from in front of your face as it made your eyes burn. 

“I’m pulling over, okay?” Pope assured, but the car wasn’t slowing down. Pope swerved to the side but instead of pulling over, the car kept going off the curb until it was cruising through a patch of grass next to a quiet farm and you didn’t miss the rim that fell off of one wheel fly by the driver’s side window.

“Every time we let Pope drive, nothing goes right.” You muttered as the car came to an abrupt stop, the hood still smoking. You heard the engine die as Pope put both hands on top of his head. 

“No, no, no…” He whined as he hopped out of the car, JJ following suit and helping you before jumping out himself.

“It’s gonna blow up.” Kie worried, crawling out of the passenger side herself. 

“It’s not gonna blow up.” JJ told her, coughing one last time and rounding the hood as Pope attempted to fan the smoke away with his hat. “You most likely unhooked the radiator, Pope.” JJ suggested, eyeing the state of the vehicle. “Damn, you knocked the entire hubcap off.”

“Yeah, the Limbrey’s might have to take a rain check for tonight.” You added, scratching the back of your neck and eyeing Pope pitifully. The boy had a look on his face — somewhere between terror and disbelief.

“There’s still, uh, public transportation?” Kiara tried to reason, not seeming completely sure about the suggestion herself. You took it upon yourself to life the hood and examine the parts yourself, picking up a little bit about cars here and there from JJ.

“Yeah, it’s definitely the radiator…” You said aloud, sighing. Pope groaned loudly behind you.

“My dad’s gonna kill me!”

“No, he won't. I’m sure-” You were about to reassure the boy before you took one glance back at the car. The smoking, hubcap-less, mess of a car. “Okay, he might. He might…”

“Look, Pope, buddy, I’m sure there’s somethin’ we can do, right?” JJ offered, putting a hand on the solemn boy’s shoulder. You took the time to pull out your phone, you didn’t have many bars out here but enough to open up the ‘Maps’ app on your phone.

“There’s a mechanic garage about fifteen miles south of here.” You announced, looking out at your three friends. “Think your dad’s truck can make it fifteen more miles?”

THE SUN HAD COMPLETELY SET BY THE TIME THE FOUR OF YOU MADE IT TO THE GARAGE. What should’ve been a mere thirty-minute car ride took nearly an hour, Pope being too afraid to drive more than twenty miles an hour and making a pit stop to check under the hood again.

The boy in question was inside, negotiating with the owner of the shop. It was some place called Archie’s Auto Repairs, right next to a gas station and rest stop. You figured you were killing about three birds with one stone – car repair, refuel, and food.

JJ and Kiara were waiting in the truck while Pope spoke to the man in charge and you went inside to relieve yourself and get snacks. You were in the gas station bathroom, finishing up with washing your hands when you looked at yourself in the mirror.

Surprisingly, you didn’t look like complete shit. Your hair was a bit frizzy and you look tired but you looked better than you had in the last month. You felt better than you had in the last month. Ever since that text from John B came through, it felt like everything was returning back to it’s normal state, like your life had hit the refresh button.

And maybe after everything settles and John B is cleared, things could be different but in a good way. This new life you were building, with JJ and Marley, it was starting to make you envision you had never really seen before. A life with JJ as something more than a best friend. You’d thought about him like that a few times throughout your friendship but it was JJ. You needed him and you didn’t want to ruin something so special because you had an on and off crush. But this one stuck. Maybe it was the kiss, or the almost sleeping together, you didn’t know. But something in your head was screaming at you to give it a shot. Something inside of you was reaching for him, calling out for him.

So maybe, once everything was okay again, you could figure that out.

Leaving the restroom, you cruised down the aisles of the shops — candy bars, chip bags, and sugary drinks, the whole selection look appetizing when you hadn’t eaten in over five hours. You grabbed four sodas and two family sized bags of chips and took them up to the register, the older, gross looking man eyeing you up and down as he scanned your items.

“That’ll be nineteen sixty-eight.” He slurred, bagging your goods as you fished for the twenty in your back pocket. “You’re a pretty little thang, aren’t ya? How old are ya, darlin’?” He asked, leaning his arms on the cashier’s counter, bumping the register. You cringed, sliding the bill across the surface.

“Not old enough.” You sassed, snatching the bag from the counter and leaving out the door, the bell ringing above you as you left. “Perv.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes as your rounded the corner of the shop to see the truck come into view.

Just as quickly as you rounded the corner, you hid behind it. Your heart had stopped for a moment as your registered exactly what it was you had just seen. Biting your bottom lip, you slowly peeked your head around the corner to find that your eyes had in fact not deceived you — Kiara and JJ were kissing in the trunk of Heyward’s pick-up. She had both of her hands on his cheeks, pulling his face into hers as his own gripped the side of the truck for stability.

You immediately tore your eyes away when they pulled apart, hiding behind the wall once more. You couldn’t hear them. Maybe you were grateful for that. You were torn between wanting to cry and wanting lash out on them both. But maybe you had no right, maybe you were the fool in this situation.

It was JJ. JJ Maybank. Half of the female pogue population could probably describe in detail what was hidden beneath his pants. And Kiara? Well, who would turn her down? But she was supposed to be “with” Pope and JJ was giving you all types of green lights. But maybe you were blind and couldn’t see them for the red flags that they clearly were.

But you refused to cry. But that didn’t mean you weren’t pissed. You felt a bit played, in all honesty. And by JJ of all people. And how could Kie do that to Pope when he’s less than ten feet away? They weren’t together or anything, sure. But rules of friendship and respect just seemed so thrown out of the window in the past sixty seconds. 

So, shaking it off, you rounded the corner with the bag in hand. JJ was scratching the top of his head while Kie fiddled with her fingers in her lap before his eyes found you, immediately perking up.

“And the potty princess returns!” He threw his hands up in celebration. “Ooh, did she bring snacks? What’s in the bag?” He asked, coming closer. When he reached you, you pressed the bag into his chest, attempting to keep him at a distance. Letting him have the bag and not even sparing the two another glance, you hopped into the passenger side of the vehicle, absentmindedly slamming the door shut in your silent rage. You hadn’t realized that one of your hands was balled into a tight fist. Loosing your hand, you left crescent-shaped marks in your palm.

You didn’t know how you felt or what you wanted to do about. So you just sat there, listening to the night air, the crickets, the cars that passed by. You felt like JJ had just stomped on your heart and you weren’t even sure if you could be mad at him for it. But you should’ve known.

You’re a pogue. There’s always a calm before the storm. Nothing good comes without something bad.

A COUPLE HOURS HAD PASSED. Pope had found an empty field to park the truck in — shaded by a large, thriving willow tree. None of you really had enough money for a hotel and the money spent on one would be a waste, anyway. 

Surprisingly, there was no night chill in Charleston. The four of you opted to sleep in the trunk of the pick-up, using your jackets and flannels as blankets for comfort. You hadn’t spoken since witnessing what happened at the garage, even Pope was taking weird glances at you the entire ride.

At this moment, Pope was knocked out, Kiara right behind him. You felt a snarl of disgust edge your way onto your face when she leaned over to peck the curly-haired boy on his cheek before closing her own eyes and drifting off. What was she doing?

A part of you was angry that she and JJ kissed, of course. JJ had led you on with this ruse of giving yourselves time to figure out what was going between you two — whether is was grief-driven or genuine. And Kiara had been playing tug-o-war with Pope’s feelings for weeks, months almost, and the moment he has his back turned, she locks lips with his best friend.

As a friend group, you all had your moments. But you never went behind each other’s backs. Especially never like this.

So, you slept alone. As alone as you could, anyway. You were curled up in the farthest place in the trunk from the other three, closest to the front of the vehicle itself. The pit in your stomach was finally starting to settle as the beginning of sleep started to overtake you when a warm hand curled itself around your shoulder, startling you.

Your eyes shot open as you whipped your head to the side to find JJ’s face hovering over yours.

“Jesus.” You whisper-yelled, rolling your eyes before looking at the blonde once more. “What do you want?”

At your standoffish tone of voice and straight to the point question, the boy drew his lips into a thin line, letting his hand slide from your shoulder. “Okay, someone’s grumpy.” He tried to joke, a lazy smile on his face.

You stared blankly at him for a few beats, blinking. “Goodnight, JJ-”

“Okay, sorry sorry…” He protested quickly, looking behind him to make sure he didn’t wake the other two when the volume and pitch of his voice raised before looking back at you. You shifted to lay flat on your back, staring up at JJ as he stared down at you, leaning his weight on one of his arms. “What’s wrong with you? You’ve been actin’ weird since we left that sketchy ass gas station.”

You simply cocked your head. “What’s wrong with me?” You whispered in response, an air of frustration surrounding your voice. “What’s wrong with you?”

He reeled his neck back at your reversal, his face twisting in confusion. “Wh-Nothing’s wrong with me. You basically threw a bag full of snacks at me and jumped into the truck. Did I say something? Was it the potty princess thing ‘cause you know I was just messin’ around.” He guessed, taking your lack of reaction and response as a sign that maybe that wasn’t the problem. “Did I do somethin’?”

“I don’t know, JJ. You tell me.” You pressed, eyes never leaving his own. He genuinely seemed to rake his brain for answers before settling on one that made your blood boil.

“No, I don’t think I did.” The statement sounded more like  a question when it tumbled from his lips. You couldn’t do anything but scoff and roll your eyes, prompting the blonde to try and clean up his answer. “Yes? I don’t know what you want me to say here-”

“Nothing.” You snapped. You were so hurt and angry that you could feel your eyes twitching as you looked at him. “I don’t want you to say anything else to me.” You warned, shifting to turn on your side and effectively away from him. “Ever again.”

“...C’mon, Y/N. Are you just fuckin’ with me or somethin’?” When you didn’t reply, he put a hand on your shoulder, attempting to pull you over to face him. You just shook him off. “Can you tell me what I did?”

The sadness in his voice almost made all the anger fall from your bones but you couldn’t allow yourself to be the weak and vulnerable. Especially not for him. Not anymore.

“No. Now, leave me alone.” You mumbled, shifting to get comfortable for the last time, hearing him sigh and lay down himself behind you. You felt one single tear fall across the bridge of your nose before you closed your eyes. Maybe it was a misunderstanding or something, but your brain couldn’t come up with any explanation of excuse that could explain what you saw. You wanted to talk about it but then again you didn’t. But you knew eventually you’d have to, tonight just wasn’t that night. In a million years, you never thought you’d feel this way because of your best friend.

For the first time in your entire life, you didn’t trust JJ.

“THEY’VE RUN CHARLESTON FOR, LIKE, THREE-THOUSAND YEARS.” Pope explained as the truck pulled to a stop in front of a large, three-story, gated property. It was the next morning and the sun had quite literally just set in the sky. Pope had woken the three of you up at the very first crack of dawn so you could make it there ‘on time’. You’d tried to remind him that ‘on time’ would’ve been last night, but you let him hang on to hope.

It didn’t help that the truck was significantly more crowded. You weren’t eager to sit on JJ’s lap this time around and surprisingly, Kiara wasn’t eager to take your place. Thankfully, the house was only a couple hours from where you slept.

“These Kooks make our Kooks look like Pogues.” JJ proclaimed, staring out of the window and up at the large, standing building. “You sure this is the place, Pope?” He asked, in awe of the property.

“Pretty sure.” The boy sighed, opening the driver’s side door and exiting, JJ following right after as you and Kie exited the vehicle as well, closing the doors behind them. The four you walked up the black, wrought iron fence. Pope held the note in his hands, reading off the address in confirmation.

“Talk about home security…” JJ trailed off, looking at the rather sizeable, sharp points at the top of the fence.

“Are those spikes to keep people out?” Kiara inquired.

Taking a good look at the property through the bars, you noticed a couple of things. You shook your head, a look of disappointment on your face. “No.” You spoke for the first time in hours, the three of them turning to you as you pointed to a section of the yard. “The slave quarters are over there.” You explained, looking at the three of them. “The spikes were to keep people in.” Was the last thing you said before heading up the steps to the front door, the three of them following behind you.

You let Pope take the reigns when you reached the door, him knocking three times on the structure before you heard heavy footsteps coming towards it from the other side. Despite the footsteps, almost a whole minute went by before anything happened.

Pope, nervous and jittery, went to knock again — getting two good ones in before someone opened the door. A middle-aged white man with small, beady eyes and short light brown hair. The expression on his face didn’t look like one of someone who was expecting guests.

Leaning against the door frame, he eyed the four you individually before settling on Pope, an odd smile growing on his features as he pointed at you friend. “You must be Pope.” He said almost excitedly, crossing his arms. Pope stumbled for a response. “Ms. Limbrey was expecting you yesterday.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. My car…broke down on the way up here.” Pope explained, trying to mask his  uneasiness. 

“Carburetor blew up in the middle of Nowheresville.” JJ voiced from behind Pope. He didn’t look nervous at all, he looked ready for anything. “Sorry ‘bout that.” He said, little emotion to his voice despite the apology.

“Yeah, she was, uh, real upset when you didn’t show up.” The man told Pope, a southern twang to his voice, almost as strong as Shoupe’s. 

“We tried to call but there’s no number on the invitation.” Kiara piped up smally, looking at the invitation as she spoke. “We got here as fast as we could…”

“She also expected you to come alone.” The male said, eyeing you, Kiara, and JJ as he said it. 

“Well, he didn’t, so…” You added in, crossing your arms and eyeing the man up and down. “Where’s the ‘she’ with all these demands anyway?”

Pope edged in front of you when the man took a threatening step forward, JJ also shuffling forwards. “Look, these are my friends. They helped find the Royal Merchant, too-”

“The instructions were explicit.” He cut Pope off mid-sentence, eyes boring into yours as he leaned forward, his voice lowering to a condescending whisper. “Your friends…can stay outside.” He reprimanded, straightening out and turning back to Pope.

“We’re kind of a package deal, man.” JJ turned his nose up at the man standing between the four of you and the inside of the house. 

Pope turned to the blonde. “JJ, it’s okay. I got this.” He assured, sending a small nod his way. JJ took his words at face value, sending a nod in return and taking a step back. 

“We’ll be right here…” Kiara trailed off in support, sliding a gentle hand down the length of Pope’s arm. You simply rolled your eyes, something JJ didn’t fail to notice. 

“We’ll keep the car running…” You warned, eyes never leaving the suspicious man in the doorframe. 

“Well, c’mon now. Ms.Limbrey can’t wait to see you.” He said, stepping aside to allow a weary Pope into the mansion. The boy in question entered the home, not without a glance back at the three of you out on the front step, the door closing menacingly slow behind him.

“Fucking creep.” You scoffed, turning and heading down the steps swiftly.

“Hey, where are you going?” Kiara asked, running after you, watching as you walked the length of the wrought iron fence, examining the spikes. 

“What does it look like? I’m gonna find a way into this…house of horrors.” You mumbled, shaking each of the poles for a weak spot, failing to find one. You resorted to attempting to climb the fence but didn’t even manage to get both feet up onto the structure at once. 

“And do what exactly? What if you trespass and ruin all our chances at clearing John B’s name?” The girl asked, her face twisting in annoyance as you sighed and hopped down off the fence, turning to face her. Shifting your weight, you shoved your hands into your back pockets before speaking.

“Oh, like you did when you made Pope drop the camera?.” You shrugged, jutting out your bottom lip. “Y’know, the one that had the video of Ward killing someone-”

“That wasn’t even my fault!” She defended.

“I think we all collectively agreed that it was…” You argued nonchalantly, shooting the girl a grimace before walking off in the direction of the parked truck that JJ was leaning against, watching the entire interaction occur.

Before you’d turned away you could’ve swore Kiara opened her mouth to reply, but one warning head shake from JJ and her lips were sealing themselves shut. You were about to open the passenger door when JJ’s hand gripped your upper arm, the blonde staring out in front of him with a stoic yet pointed look on his face.

“Can you let go of me-”

“Does that look voluntary?” He asked, tone deep. You followed his unwavering gaze to find a blonde woman and the man who opened the door leading Pope further into the yard behind the gate. Pope was looking back pitifully at the three of you as the man pushed him forward and the woman, a cane by her side and a limp in her walk, led them both further into the greenery.

“Not at all.” You practically whispered back, attempting to take a step forward when JJ tightened his grip. 

“Hold on, hold on.” You turned to him an impatient and questioning look on your face, throwing a hand out as a way to ask ‘what?’. “They’re goin’ around the back alley.” He said hurriedly, rounding the driver’s side of the truck as you hopped in the passenger side, Kie piling in beside you. “We’ll meet ‘em on the other side.”

JJ started the car, driving it slowly in order to draw too much suspicion — with the Limbreys or surrounding neighbors. You could almost hear all three of your hearts beating in panicked unison with every turn made. You didn’t know what these people wanted with Pope, but if they didn’t drop this whole super secret act, they wouldn’t be getting anything.

Driving and driving, and still no Pope. JJ eyes were focused ahead as you and Kiara looked to the sides of the road for any sign of him. “Where did they go?” Kie asked, peering out of the window. She sounded sad. The trio of you continued driving around, Pope nowhere in sight. You were starting to get worried, extremely worried.

If the Limbreys were like the Camerons of Charleston, there was no telling what they could be doing with your friend right now.

“Okay, stop the car.” You said, putting your hands on the dashboard.

“What?” JJ asked, although he slowed the vehicle down, bringing it to a stop on the side of the road. You reached over key and threw the passenger door open before climbing over the girl. “Where the hell are you going-”

“Ouch, that’s my- Ow!” Kie shouted.

You threw yourself out of the vehicle before standing up and dusting yourself off, looking side to side before deciding to go back in the direction the alley was in. Even if you didn’t see Pope, there was a way in and there was no way in hell you weren’t taking it.

You set off quickly in the direction of the alley, Kiara and JJ calling out for you before two pairs of footsteps were trailing behind you. You passed a few people on the sidewalk, unintentionally shoulder-checking them in your haste.

“Watch it!”

“Hey! Rude…”

Reaching the alley, you made a sharp turn into the greenery. You could hear grunts and groans that stopped you in your tracks — you were no stranger to the sounds of violence. Your power walk turned into a sprint, pushing leaves and branches out of your path before reaching Pope, who was beating on the creep who opened the door.

He had him pinned down to the concrete, both of them reaching for what seemed to be a taser. Your eyes fleeted between the two brawling guys and the weapon before you decided to kick the object behind you in the direction of Kiara and JJ.

Pope delivered one last blow to the man’s face before getting up. “C’mon.” You demanded, being the first to run away, back in the direction of the truck. The four of you took the short way — hopping over a cement wall that guarded a small portion of the yard. 

The car was a few feet away since you ditched the scenic route, the four of you wasting no time in jumping in. JJ in the driver’s seat with the three of you piled in as well.

“Who the hell were those people?” Kiara panicked, out of breath as she slammed the passenger door shut.

“I don’t know but they’re crazy as shit!” Pope’s voice cracked as he settled into the vehicle. “We need to get out of here now.” He warned, wide eyes drifting in JJ’s direction as the blonde started the engine and hit the gas almost all in one motion as the vehicle leaped forward, sending you all down the road.

Near moments after JJ had hit the gas, leaving a smoke trail in his wake, you looked behind you to see a car speeding behind you, the fishbowl windows allowing you to see the driver clearly. “Creepy guy recovers fast.” You panted, looking back ahead of you and prompting JJ to peek in the rearview mirror, pressing the gas a little harder.

“Here we go now!”

Heyward’s truck was going faster than you ever deemed possible, flying down the road. “Hey, JJ, slow down. This is a one-way.” Pope warned, the truck never slowing down. JJ was too focused to hear much of anything, you were gripping the seat for dear life. “This is a one-way!” Pope got louder as JJ started to reach a busier part of the town. A car suddenly appeared in front of you, the headlights blinding.

“Car, JJ! There’s a car!” You warned, grabbing a hold of the steering wheel yourself and making a right turn before the truck could collide with the SUV. Rounding the corner, you almost collided with two pedestrians — the two heads of blonde and light-brown hair looking eerily familiar for the slightest of moments.

“Jesus, look out!” Pope and Kiara said in unison as JJ took back control of the wheel and avoided hitting the two people.

“Get out of the road!” JJ shouted as he redirected the car on the street.

“Those were pedestrians!” Kiara reprimanded, gripping the passenger door for stability. 

“That was evasive driving technique right there, y’all!” JJ patted himself on the back as you turned to look out of the rear window to see the man still hot on your trail.

“You sure about that ‘cause he’s still following us.” You warned, looking at the blonde for the briefest of moments.

“Hang on, I’ll lose him.” JJ assured you all, making a sharp turn that sent the three of you crashing into each other. Just as he turned into an empty alley, a pop sound following a hiss of air and smoke came from the truck. “I thought you said he fixed carburetor!”

“He did!” Pope said as the car came to a stop of its own.

“No, Pope, he clearly did not!” JJ retorted as he opened the door, Kie doing the same on the passenger side. The four of you got out of the truck, fanning the air and coughing.

“Number one rule, never trust mechanics.” JJ spoke mainly to himself as you all grabbed whatever you brought along with you out of the trunk of the car just as the car following you pulled in the alley as well. “Shit. Go, go, go!”

The four of you booked, the smoke hopefully giving you a bit of time as you ran through the alley. You and Kiara looked behind you as you ran, seeing the man get out of his own car and tuck something into his jacket.

“He has a gun.” You muttered, looking back ahead as you ran. “He has a fucking gun!”

Pope and JJ glanced behind themselves, past you and Kie to see the man not far behind. The squad of you picked up the pace, making the first turn available but you swore you heard someone calling your names.

The man was picking up the pace as well, getting closer to you all. “We might have to split up!” JJ suggested from the forefront of the group.

“Are you crazy?” You shouted, being right behind the blonde. “No way!” You continued, almost tripping over an unleveled section of the concrete. JJ, not paying attention, ran into a mailman, sending the packages in his hand flying into the air.

“Sorry ‘bout that!” He apologized over his shoulder. JJ led you all into another alley, this one much narrower causing you all to run in a line. The guy was falling behind, which was a plus.

Coming out of the alley, you all came face to face with a couple on a bike almost getting run over by them. But after taking a longer look at the two people who almost pummeled you all with their bike, your heart dropped farther down in your body than it ever has.

Every single one of your five senses seemed to cease to exist in this moment. You couldn’t hear anything, white noise filling your ears as your vision blurred on the edges, only allowing you to see what you could only logically explain as two ghosts standing in front of you — a very much alive John B Routeledge and Sarah Cameron standing in front of you, covering in mud and dirt and who knows what else.

Whatever breath you had been holding in your lungs released itself, the release of air allowing your senses to return, almost like coming up out of the water.

All of your expressions were somewhere in between a blank stare and a smile. You wanted to reach a hand out to see if they were real.

“...Get in. Get in! Get in!” John B broke the silence. His voice hadn’t changed. It was exactly like you remembered. The four of you did as he said, still partially in shock, piling into the bike. You, Kiara, and Sarah crowded into the cab of the pedicab as JJ and Pope pushed it from the back as John B pedaled as hard as he could. 

You couldn’t take your eyes off of his back as he pedaled, unless of course it was to direct the same blank stare in Sarah’s direction. The Limbrey guy plus two other men were chasing the group of you now, JJ and Pope hopping onto the sides after it gained enough speed to ride smoothly with the six of you on it.

The entire ride to the boat, your friends were whooping and cheering. And on the inside you couldn’t be happier or more relieved at how well the universe seemed to work in your favor but for some reason, your body wasn’t so eager to show it on the outside. 

For a whole month, you’d grieved someone who wasn’t dead.

Once you reached one of Ward’s boats the Sarah knew the location of — My Druthers Too, you all wasted no time jumping into it, sailing in the direction of The Outer Banks. Back home.

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

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©loveharlow.

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[mayajadewrites]

could've been you: aizawa x reader x hawks

You're the new teacher at UA with a rocky past with one of their beloved teachers, Shouta Aizawa aka Eraserhead. You'd rather never see him again but alas, such is life. You also meet Keigo, aka Hawks, who is the opposite of Aizawa. Smiley, golden retriever energy. Nothing could go wrong... right? relationships: aizawa x fem!reader, hawks x fem!reader warnings: some chapters will be NSFW, they will have a warning on them in bold.

CHAPTER ONE

The air reeks of teenagers and sweat. As you walk through the long hallway, you glance at the photos on the walls. They're filled with photos of Pro Heros - All Might, Endeavor, and Best Jeanist.

You sigh when you see your own portrait. You look younger, probably just a couple of years after you graduated from UA.

Mirage the nameplate read.

"UA is so happy to have you back, Mirage!" Nezu caught up to your space in the hallway.

"Please, use my real name. You've known me since I was a student myself." You shifted the weight of the boxes in your hands.

"Always so humble. Anyways, your room is this way. Thank you for offering to stay on campus, sometimes these students get into trouble."

"Who would say no to free housing? And it'll be harder for me to be late." You watch as Nezu opens the door to your room. It's more like an apartment - you have your kitchen, living room, bedroom, a 2nd bedroom and a bathroom. It looks like it was newly constructed too.

"You'll be teaching the Strategy class starting next week. I want you to observe a few classes before your first official day as a teacher though." He hopped on your counter to get closer to your eye level. "Though I'm afraid what you'll think when I tell you who the instructor is."

You start to unpack a box as you hear Nezu's words. You let out a light laugh as you pull out some of your trinkets.

"As long as it's not Eraserhead, I'll be okay."

Silence.

"I said, as long as it's not Eraserhead." You turn your body to face Nezu. You furrow your eyebrows as you stare at him. "This where you say, 'Of course it's not him! It's Endeavor!'"

"Endeavor doesn't teach. He has no patience for his own children, let alone students he doesn't know."

"Nezu. You're telling me I'll be observing fucking ERASERHEAD teaching?! Who even let him teach in the first place?"

"I did. He is a fine instructor, the children love him."

You roll your eyes. You and Eraserhead have always had a tough time getting along. Always disagreements, always arguing, never compromising.

"Let me remind you of the last time I saw Eraserhead." You used your quirk, mind manipulation, to show Nezu your last memory of Eraserhead.

Mirage. Quirk: Mind Manipulation.

Your quirk allows you to show a person an image you control using mind manipulation. You can put them anywhere in the world, they will think they're there. You can also pull a memory from their mind and place them back to that time. The drawback is you can only do this on one person at a time, however everyone in the vicinity will see the same thing the designated target does.

You, Eraserhead, and Endeavor were patrolling the city when a group of villains decided to cause destruction and havoc on an elementary school.

It was mid day, a weird time for villains to be out.

"Eraserhead, use your quirk on the one in the middle!" Endeavor said as he blasted flames out of his hands. "He's the leader!"

"No, he's not. It's the one that's in the back - he's been saving his power."

"Endeavor is right, he's been calling all the shots. What leader would just lay back and let their team do all the work?"

"A lot." His eyes turned red as he stopped the man he was targeting from using his quirk.

"Eraserhead, why can't you just fucking listen?" You tried to get into the mind of the leader, but he had something that was keeping you at bay. Was it his quirk? "Please, use your quirk on him! I can't get into his head!"

But Eraserhead didn't listen.

He never did.

And it cost you to be in a coma for a few months.

The villain used some sort of dark magic to surpress your quirk, sending your brain into shock.

Everything went black.

You waved your hand to bring Nezu out of the vision you brought to him. "It was because of HIM that I was out cold for months."

"I'm sorry, but this is what's going to happen. We don't have many teachers here as it is, and Aizawa is at your level. You're both very strong."

"I should take that as a compliment, right?" You scoff. "Send me what room he teaches in and I'll be there at 8AM when classes begin."

"I appreciate you're willingness to cooperate." Nezu nods, jumping off the counter and walking to the door. "And I'm sorry that you experienced that."

You only nod as he shuts the door gently. You let out a sigh as he left, letting the anxiety that filled your body go. You learned this through therapy since you experience anxiety through physical symptoms.

"Breathe." You murmured. Time to start unpacking.

___________________________________

Your mattress and other furniture was delivered so you set everything up. Your bed looked like a cloud with muted earthy tones on your comforter and around your room.

You felt your stomach grumble as you flattened out your blanket. Guess it was time to grab some food. You slip on a pair of leggings, a thin strapped tank top and a cropped zip up sweatshirt that hands off one of your shoulders as you zip it. You slide your feet into your chunky tennis shoes and head out the door.

You're still familiar with the campus at UA, even though some of the buildings have been redone. You made your way to the cafeteria where you see a few Pro Heroes talking at a table. They must've just finished a demonstration or something.

"Mirage?" You hear Endeavors voice boom. You couldn't not hear him.

"That's me." You walk over to the table he was at. He looked... happy to see you.

"I never thought I would see you again. We've needed you, villains are at an all time high."

"That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." You look up at him - he's so much taller than you. Usually people are put off by Endeavor and his personality, but you have a soft spot for him. "I'm teaching here starting next week."

"No way!" You hear another recognizable voice. Present Mic.

"Yamada!" You ran up to him and gave him a squeeze. "I haven't seen you in years!"

"You look great! Your body looks so much different than high school, your curves are unbelievable."

Yamada has always been once to compliment women - he's never scared. You're also not stick thin like a lot of female heroes these days. Your body has muscle, but you're soft at the same time. You have full, plush hips and thighs and an ass to match. You're also blessed in the chest area, but you cover that up the best you can.

"Yamada, can you please go a couple of minutes without objectifying women." Endeavor rolled his eyes.

"Lighten up, Enji. He was just giving a compliment." A new voice chimed in. You saw a man with dirty blonde hair look your way, a pair of dark red wings behind him. "My name is Keigo, Hawks is my hero name." He held out his hand. He's cute.

"You must be one of the newer Pro Heroes all of the women in town are talking about." You shake his hand and look into his honey colored eyes. "You have quite a fanbase."

Keigo chuckled, his teeth shining as he smiled. It was a warm, comforting smile that you needed after reliving the last time you saw Eraserhead.

"Would you like to eat with us? We just finished introducing ourselves to the students since it's the start of the year." Keigo patted the seat next to him.

"Sure, let me grab some food first." You turn to the food stations and grab a chicken sandwich and fries. You feel Keigo glancing at you as you walk through the cafeteria, careful not to stare too hard.

Cute.

You, Enji, Yamada and Keigo talk for what feels like hours. Catching up, sharing stories and getting to know one another. Enji told you about how his youngest son, Shoto is enrolled at UA. He said he shows a lot of promise, and that he's trying to rebuild a relationship with him.

Yamanda went on and on about his online dating life, and how he's having trouble finding his 'one true love'.

Keigo is full of smiles and laughs, which was so refreshing.

"Can I walk you back to your room?" Keigo jogged to catch up with you as you walked toward the dorms.

"What, you think a villain is gonna pop on me on my walk back?" You giggle. "Sure you can." You start walking in sync together.

"So, what's your quirk exactly?" He tilts his head down as he walks.

"Mind manipulation. I can make someone see anything I want them too. I also can manipulate objects too, but I don't use that as much."

"So are you making me see one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen or is this my reality?"

How is he so smooth?

"I'm not using my quirk right now, scouts honor." You put two fingers up and giggled. "That's me." You point to your door as you approach it.

Then you spot a tall, dark haired man standing near your door, leaning on the wall.

Fucking Eraserhead.

#aizawa x reader #aizawa #eraserhead #aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa x reader #bnha shouta aizawa #mha hawks #keigo takami #mha takami keigo #keigo x reader #hawks x reader #mha fanfiction #mha fanfic

[elliotsblunt]

Girl in New York | 3

pairings - art donaldson/reader | challengers au! |

“ _ _ “ = Y/N

next chapter | masterlist | last chapter

sypnosis — Art can’t stand to see another man’s touch on you, so he covers you with his instead in the backseat of his car.

warnings — choking, messy kissing, filthy words, cheating, angst, miscommunication

word count — 2.5k

© elliotsblunt 2024. do not repost, modify or translate.

Your arms were interlinked with your cousin’s. He was spotting some guys he could potentially make bad decisions with, and you were anxious to see—

“Hi, guys!” A voice screeched.

You and Patrick raise your brows, spinning around to find Art and his girlfriend in hand. Your heart had been racing like you smoked ten cigarettes in one sitting. His eyes instantly met yours, but you tore yours away, settling on the bimbo beside him. “I’m Tiffany. We’ve met before.”

You swallowed thickly. “Yeah. Hey.”

Art had been burning holes into you, all behind his girlfriend’s back. Pat and him threw their arms around each other as Tiffany eyed you down, the four of you going up the steps.

As soon as you reached the top, deafening club music blared in your ears. Flashes of lights in all directions set off as crowds of half naked people danced amongst one another. The air was thick and your breathing became uneven. Tiffany giggled as if she’d never been in a club before, making you almost roll your eyes. “You dance, Tiffany?”

“I did balet when I was nine.” She admitted, making you raise your brows. Pat laughed before whispering in your ear, “Behave.”

You chuckled, raising a brow at her. “Let’s go dance. Leave these losers to do what they want.”

“Ouch,” Pat once again threw his arm around Art’s shoulder. His blonde curls weren’t styled, falling over his eyes. It made him look more charming. You hated the affect he had on you. You realized he still hadn’t said anything to you, but only looked at you with narrowed eyes and an irritated expression.

Tiffany sent you a weirded out look, “I’m good. I don’t think provocative dancing is appropriate in front of other men when I have one.”

You blinked at her, sending a look to Pat before nodding. “You’re so right. Good thing I don’t have one,” you pulled off your green sweater, revealing a black lace crop top. It showed off your waist, feeling eyes from all sides burn into you. “—now if you’ll excuse me.”

Making your way to the dance floor, you grabbed your hair and shook your hips to the music. Arching your back, to make your waist look thinner, your figure began to tune with the music like an instrument. Those five shots of vodka you took on the way to the club were hitting you right about now.

Dopamine soared through your blood. You had been so stressed this week with school work and contemplating how you felt about Art.

Your eyes fluttered shut, goosebumps littering your skin.

A pair of hands slither around your waist. It causes you to jolt, bursting them open again before pushing them off. “C’mon beautiful. I don’t bite,” a middle aged man said in a faux sweet tone. Sickenly sweet. You internally cringed as he reached for you again, the wrinkles in his face deepening as you struggle against him.

He grabs your wrists, “Come over here.”

His tone was authoritative and sharp. You resisted, grunting out, and felt someone shove his figure off yours. Art delivered a kick to the dude’s abdomen before grabbing his collar and punching him right in the jaw. His blonde strands were frazzled and messy. He ground out his jaw as the man’s face scrunched.

“Fuck off, creep.”

Taking in deep breaths, your eyes caught the blood on his knuckles. Tiffany screamed and hugged Patrick, whose face twisted together at the action. Art wiped his nose before storming off out the club, his girlfriend following him out and calling his name.

Your lips shook for a moment—and then you went after him.

By the time you reached the bottom of the steps, it was only Art. His back was leaning against the wall, cigarette hanging off his lips, his white button up now half unbuttoned. His half lidded eyes set on you as you plucked one of your own between your lips.

“Got a light?”

He didn’t respond, nor make a sound, digging into his jeans and pulling out a red one. But his eyes didn’t part from yours. They became smoky as he lit your cig. The orange slowly burnt the tobacco as it burned the back of your throat.

The cold wind contrasted against the heat of the cig. “Thanks.”

It was a beautiful night. So beautiful—for the moment, you forgot about getting groped. Everything shined in your slightly drunken mind. Cara quickly passed by as randoms walked past the both of you on the sidewalk. Taking your bottom lip between your teeth, you didn’t notice the icy pair of eyes staring at you.

You wondered why he saved you. It was clear before that he didn’t care, but now—you were confused.

“I waited two hours for you on Thursday.”

You knit your brows at his sudden words, meeting his gaze. He was already staring at you.

“What?”

The tip of his nose was pink from the cold, eyes squinting into a glare. “You didn’t show up for our lesson. I waited two hours for you, but when you didn’t show—I left.”

Confusion swirled in your brain.

“I thought your girlfriend told you?”

He frowned, hitting his cigarette. “Told me that you were going to ditch me?”

You rolled your eyes. Jesus—this guy was a smart ass. “No. She told me she would let you know that my dad won’t allow me to come on Wednesdays. I have school on those days,” his brows knit even deeper, blinking quickly at your information.

You flicked the end of the cig, watching ash fall to the ground. “You then texted me that you couldn’t make another time for our lessons and wished me well in life.”

“That literally doesn’t make any sense.”

“It does. Don’t act like you feel bad now. I always knew you were going to drop me eventually,” you mutter, taking a final hit. You let it fall from your fingertips, stepping on it with your heel, and shrugged your shoulders. “We should’ve stopped them anyways. But I must say, you were very harsh—“

“_ _, I don’t know what messages you’re talking about.”

Your eyes trailed off the ground and back onto his. “Besides….I wanted to apologize about what I said last time. Y’know—about us not being friends.”

Your breath hitched, pulling out another cigarette. “Another one?” He questioned, but lit it regardless for you. You hummed.

The cigarette wouldn’t light. “Shit,” you curse beneath your breath, backing into an alleyway with him. There was less wind back here. A spark finally emitted from the gas. “Where’s your girlfriend?”

He looked around the alley, scratching the back of his neck. “She left. Said this place was too sketchy for her,” he muttered, putting out his cigarette as well. “She was pretty mad that I punched that dude. She like—hates violence.”

“I see.”

Drips sounded from random places. Footsteps from around the corner were heard nearby.

You leaned against the wall, not wearing a coat, so your hard nipples began to poke through your thin shirt. Puffing out your chest a bit, earning some confidence with the alcohol, you decide it’s time to prove his girl a lesson. His eyes landed on your breasts, bottom lip instantly getting caught between his teeth.

His hair was slightly damp the moisture in the club. His hooded eyes filled with desire. It was a bit breathtaking how good he looked. It began to ache how turned on you were. You wanted to tug on those strands so badly.

“Art,” you spoke softly, looking over at him. As usual, his eyes were already trained on yours. Standing on your feet, you stood before him, face inches apart from his. You could smell his faint cologne and the scent of mint on his lips. “I like spending time with you. Is that weird?”

His jaw clenched. “Back up, _ _.”

Voice calm and tone, you decided to push his buttons a little. You always teased him. But he sounded particularly stern.

A smirk pulled onto your glossed lips, “Make me.”

“I said back up,” he sneered, growing close to you. You tripped and fell on the floor. You gasped as your palms land on the ground, looking up at him with rounded eyes. His hair covered his eyes like a madman, something flipping in them, and then he was on the ground with you. Dropping to his knees, grabbing your face, and smashing your lips onto his. Like you were his only source of food and he was a starved predator.

It was like craving a sweet your mother wouldn’t let you have. The taste melting on your tongue was unforgettable. In this case, it was his lips. Soft and plush, moving against yours in a rhythm that was addicting. His hands scrambled to cup your breasts, leading you to push your chest against them. His hands grabbed your waist, pulled you off the ground, and slammed you against the brick wall.

His long, skilled fingers tore your top down in half. Your eyes widened, “My sh—“

“Shut the fuck up,” he spat, grabbing your jaw and kissing you once again. You couldn’t help but moan into the kiss, fingers desperately running through his hair as his large hands tightened their grip on your flesh. He was so rough with you—aggressively reaching back up to your tits, beneath the fabric of your top, and squeezing your entire breast with his one palm.

It felt like a pleasurable, warm electric current shocked you in your core every time he stroked the sensitive flesh. The situation was so morally wrong, and people would most likely call you two horrible people, but you didn’t care. You had a craving…

…and you needed to satiate it.

“I can’t fucking concentrate with you that close to me—“ he grunted against your lips, his hands grabbing your bare tits and grinding his hips against yours. His jeans deliciously rubbed against your pussy, which was covered in a thin pair of panties. It was a total mess.

“Get the fuck off me,” he sneered, pushing you off him. His lips were slightly swollen, from just a few seconds of kissing. Both of you breathed heavily as you felt something catch in your throat. His eyes narrowed at you, “What the fuck is wrong with you? Why are you doing this?”

You blinked, still putting together what just happened. He kissed you. Art kissed you.

“You kissed me. This isn’t my fault.”

“I hate how you make me feel. You’re like a parasite for fucks sake—“

Rolling your eyes, you held together the torn ends of your shit. “I can’t do this shit anymore. Later.”

This dude couldn’t make up his mind. And quite frankly—your patience had struck thin.

Without a second glance, and feeling like you just got cockblocked, your heels clicked as you left the alleyway. It had just so happened to begin raining, much to your luck. Perhaps there was a bus stop or something nearby.

The winter night was unforgivable. You shook in the piercing cold, completely drenched and freezing. No one was out right now. All cars had most likely pulled over due to the storm. Lightning caused you to release a shriek, the purple electricity momentarily sizzling in the cloudy night sky.

After you crossed a few crosswalks, a beige Honda pulls up beside you with hazards. You grew a bit suspicious, but when you spotted it was a familiar blonde, you didn’t know whether to keep walking or flip him off. The window rolls down as Art squints his eyes through the rain, “Get in! You’ll get sick or some shit.”

You rolled your eyes, ignored him, and kept on walking down the concrete. Art groaned before putting honking his horn. Your eyes widened, since this neighborhood was particularly scary, and shushed him. “Stop that. It’s late—!”

“Get in the car,” he repeated, and you sent him a glare. He smile was boyish. “Or I’ll continue to honk.”

Oh fuck you, Art Donaldson.

Silently you got into his car, mentally cursing him out. You slammed the car door shut and instantly got hit with the smell of clean leather. You didn’t know they made Hondas with leather. Huh.

There was a keychain of a tennis racket that hung from his mirror. It jingled as he put the car in drive and shutting off his hazards. You swallowed thickly, his arm bulging as he steered the wheel with a locked jaw. “Where are we—“

“Shut up.”

Your eyes bulged. Heat blossomed in your cheeks as anger boiled within your blood. “Excuse me,” you say up in your seat, but the side of your head hit the window as he made a sharp turn on purpose. A brief pain ached your temple, and you shot him a glare. “Stop this fucking car, Art. I’m not playing with you right now.”

“I’m already here,” the car parked randomly, causing the car to break erratically. His eyes flew to yours as his hands shifted the gear into park. “I can’t fucking do this anymore, _ _. It’s exhausting.”

You swallow deeply. “I have to go.”

“You should…but now you’re in here with me,” his tone was low. Your eyes stared at the windshield, making out silhouettes of trees in the distance. Raindrops rolled down the thick glass as it pattered against the car. “It’s impossible to be a gentleman around you, _ _.”

His words sunk into you. Your mouth went dry, noticing how vulnerable and longing he looked. His hair was damp from the rain, sticking to the skin of his forehead—baby blue eyes hooded and high on lust. They flickered to your lips, “Your taste is addicting. And I need more….”

You leapt off your seat this time to grab his face and connect your lips once again. He inhaled sharply, hands landing on your hips. You crawled into his lap, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. A moan escaped you, vibrating against him, causing him to then suck on the same area.

Everywhere was steaming hot.

He desperately took off the remaining bit of your shirt you were still holding together. Your tits were revealed to him, and his lips desperately began to suck on one. Tongue swirling around the bud made your eyes squeeze shut, grinding your soaked pussy against his knee. His breath hitched as you begin to palm him through the fabric of his pants, his lips moving to press kisses against your neck.

“Fucking dreamed about this,” he groaned, watching you cry out as his teeth pierce the flesh of your nipple. Something flashed in his eyes at the sound—grabbing your throat with his hand and looking you dead in the eyes.

“Get in the fucking backseat now.”

#smut #art donaldson smut #art donaldson #donaldson #tashi donaldson #challengers fanfic #patrick zweig challengers #challengers smut #challengers fic #patrick zweig smut #mike faist fic #mike faist fanfic #mike faist smut #mike faist

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Hi, honey! Could you please write something about Emily Prentiss having a teenage daughter who sh’s and Em finds out? I know you wrote something similar and it’s perfectly okay if you feel like this is too repetitive <3 Ps; you’re so incredible and I aspire to be able to write like you do!! <3

Here you go, Anon! It's true, I've had a lot of SH-related requests recently, but I really don't mind the repetition. If it's something people want more of, and it helps them feel safe and heard and loved, I'm happy to write it. ❤️ (and thank you so much I'm so flattered! <3)

Tiny

Emily Prentiss x daughter!reader Warnings: self-harm, discussion of self-harm and self-harm tools, mental illness, internalized homophobia, explicit language (please let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 1.8k

Summary: After your best friend moves away, you start to struggle with depression, loneliness, and self-harm. You do a pretty good job of hiding it for a while but your mom is a profiler after all.

You’d been so good, so good, at hiding it. Long sleeves. Bracelets. You kept the tiny, sharp travel scissors in your locker at school, disguised in a bag with fabric and buttons and needles. A sewing project, you always said if anyone asked. But no one asked.

The truth of the matter was that you didn’t have many friends. And Sophia, your best friend since second grade, had moved to Denver last year for her dad’s job. You’d sworn to keep in touch, sworn that you’d stay best friends no matter what. And you’d tried, you’d really tried. But the daily texts had turned into weekly texts. The every-other-night FaceTime calls became every-other-month. And every time you talked to her, it seemed like her life was better than ever. She had new friends. A new soccer team. Even a boyfriend. It seemed like every time you called her, she was with him.

It hurt when you realized that Sophia liked spending time with her new boyfriend more than spending time with you. But it had hurt even more to examine your own jealousy, your own inexplicable rage at her moving on, making new friends, having new experiences. The reality–that you liked Sophia as more than a friend–hit you like a gut punch. And you didn’t know who to talk to about it. Normally, you’d talk to Sophia. But you couldn’t talk to her about this. Honestly, you weren’t even sure you were good enough friends to talk about boys or girls or whoever anymore. She’d drifted away and left you behind.

You thought about talking to your mom–she’d dated girls. But she was so busy with work, so stressed. She tried really hard not to let on when she was home, but you could see how tired she was, how she nodded blankly when you told her about your day, her mind elsewhere. No doubt with the hundreds of psychopaths and murderers she investigated every day.

You didn’t know who you were or what you were. You just knew that you were lonely and hurt and so deeply confused. There were other LGBTQ+ kids at school, but they’d all been out since middle school. They had that unbreakable comradery that queer kids who flock together often have. And you’d missed it.

All the confusion, all the hurt, all the feelings, roiled inside you until there was no place for it to go except out. The first time you’d drawn the scissors across your forearm, the blood had surprised you, as had the brief moment where there was blood but no pain. But when the pain did hit, it felt like a balloon had popped, like something that had been growing and growing and pressing in on you had shrunk back down to a manageable size.

Of course, the shame followed. Of course, you felt terrible, guilty, ashamed, sick to your stomach. Of course, you cried when you thought about what your mom would say if she saw it, what Sophia would say. But even worse, you knew they’d ask why. And you were terrified to talk about why. So you put on your long sleeves. You started wearing bracelets. And you hoped that no one would notice.

But that night, after a quick dinner of takeout pizza and Caesar salad, your mom had asked you to wash up and, without thinking, you’d rolled up your sleeves to do the dishes.

“Oh my god!” your mom exclaimed, rushing to your side. “What happened to your arm!?”

It was so stupid. You’d been so careful. You’d kept this a secret for months and now, with just one fuck-up, you’d ruined it.

“Nothing!” you cried, squirming out of her grip. “I just… I scratched myself, that’s all.”

But your mom wasn’t stupid. She spoke six languages. She headed an FBI unit. She was the smartest person you knew. She profiled people for a living. And she could tell when you were lying.

“Y/N!” she chastised, grabbing onto your arms hard. She'd also trained in hand-to-hand combat so you were really no match for her.

She turned your wrists around so she could see the inside of your arms, and the look on her face nearly broke you. It was sadness, it was guilt, it was shock and disbelief and worry, so much worry. You stared at the ceiling, willing yourself not to cry, mouth clamped shut.

“Y/N,” she said, quieter, running a gentle thumb along your forearms. “Tiny, look at me.” A tear dripped down your cheek. She didn’t call you Tiny much these days. And you always rolled your eyes when she did. It was what she’d called you when you were little. I love you, Tiny. You're so strong, Tiny! You can do it! Everything’s gonna be okay, Tiny.

You sniffed and lowered your head to look at her, more tears falling. You saw that your mom had tears in her eyes, too, and it made you feel awful.

“How long have you been hurting yourself?” she asked, her voice calm and gentle, full of emotion.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, sniffling. “Maybe like… six months?”

She let out a shaky sigh and nodded. “Okay,” she said, more to herself than to you. “Okay.” After a moment, she drew you into her, and you pressed your face into her chest, finally letting yourself cry.

“It’s okay, honey,” she cooed, smoothing your hair as she hugged you. “It’s gonna be okay.”

When your sobs had calmed to hiccups, you emerged, face red and blotchy. Your mom wiped your face with her hands and motioned to the kitchen table. “This might be hard for you,” she started, looking at you earnestly. “But we need to talk about it. Go ahead and sit down. I’m gonna make us some tea.”

You took deep, soothing breaths as your mom set a steeping cup of chamomile in front of you, holding her own close to her chest.

“Are you mad at me?” you whispered, scared of the conversation to come.

“No, baby,” she assured you, squeezing your hand. “I’m not mad. I’m worried about you, that’s all.”

You nodded.

“Now, first things first,” she began, and you winced, sure she was going to take something away from you or ground you or something. “Do you know how to properly clean and dress a cut like that?”

You blinked in surprise. “Uh…” You were floundering. This is not where you expected this conversation to go. “I mean, I put band-aids on them.”

“Yeah, no,” your mom said, taking out her phone and making a note. “We’re gonna get you some alcohol sterilizer. Let’s see… Neosporin, gauze bandages. Probably butterfly bandages too, just in case. And whatever it is that you’re using for… this… you need to be sanitizing it before you use it.”

Your jaw dropped and you stared at her. “You don’t… want me to stop?”

She clicked the phone shut and stared purposefully at you. “Oh, no. Hear me loud and clear. I absolutely want you to stop. But… from what I know about self-harm, it’s a process. It might take some time. You might have relapses. And I just want you to be as safe as you can in recovery.”

“Thanks, Mom,” you said quietly, surprised at her response. You hadn’t really thought about being safe while cutting. Since cutting itself wasn’t exactly safe. Trust your mom to always be looking for ways to take care of you.

Your mom pursed her lips for a moment, as if thinking about how to proceed. And, once again, you were terrified that she was going to make you feel worse somehow, even if she didn’t mean to.

“It’s okay,” she stuttered, breathing out heavily, “if you don’t want to talk to me about what’s making you want to do this, but you need to talk to somebody. So tomorrow I’m gonna make some phone calls and we’re gonna find a therapist. And if your therapist recommends it, we might need to find you a psychiatric facility for a little bit.”

Ice-cold panic flooded your veins. “No, Mom, please!” 

“Hey, hey,” she said, grabbing your hands. “It is not a punishment. There is nothing wrong or shameful about your brain needing some help, okay? Even if it’s scary, we’re gonna do what we need to do to help you get better. Yes?”

You exhaled and nodded.

“Okay. So that’s what we’re gonna do.”

You were both silent for a moment, sipping your tea. You wished you could tell what your mom was thinking. You wished you could tell her what you were thinking. You so desperately wanted to tell someone. And you were scared. Scared that your mom would never look at you the same again. Scared that you’d never again be that same little girl, her Tiny. There was too much wrong with you.

You sniffled as your eyes filled with tears again. “Mom?” you squeaked.

“Yeah, honey?”

You asked what you were most afraid to ask. “Do you still love me?”

“Oh, baby,” she said, scooting her chair toward you and wrapping you in her arms. “Of course I do. I love you so much. I’ll always love you. You’re my little girl, you’re my Tiny.”

Your shoulders shook as you wept. “I just feel…” you cried. “I just feel like no one really loves me.”

“That’s just not true,” your mom said, rubbing your back. “I love you. All your aunts and uncles at the BAU love you. What about Sophia? She loves you.”

You cried even harder. “No, she doesn’t, Mom.”

Your mom brushed your hair away from her face. “What are you talking about? You talk all the time.”

And when you finally said it, it felt like a weight off your shoulders, like you’d been carrying a mountain for months and someone had finally lifted it away. You shook as you spoke. “She doesn’t love me like I love her.”

Understanding flooded your mom’s face. She nodded, and you could tell by the look on her face, by the empathy in her eyes, by the way she squeezed your hand and cupped your face and pursed her lips that she knew. She knew what it was like. She knew the confusion and the hurt and the self-hatred. She knew it all.

And it was almost better that she didn’t say anything. Anything at all. She just looked at you and understood. She just brushed your tears away with her thumb and let you finish crying. And when your sobs subsided, she held your hand. And she kept holding it. And after a while, she brushed your hair out of your face and said, “Everything’s gonna be okay, Tiny. I promise.”

And you knew–because she was your mom, because she was her, because she loved you and you loved her–that it would be.

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x daughter!reader #emily prentiss fanfic #hurt/comfort #emily prentiss imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Black Reader - Volunteer

Summary - Ruben wants to celebrate Man City winning another PL title. However, Reader won't be able to join him.

Enjoy!

You thought that your life would change, dating someone like Ruben Dias. Although there were some drastic changes, mainly the sudden invasion of privacy from strangers claiming to know and judging everything about you. Other than that, your life was normal.

You were even able to keep your day job as a middle school teacher, at least up until the point that it became irrational for you to take as many days off as you did when traveling with Ruben to his many away games. Although your hours as a teacher were reduced by quitting your job, you never forgot where you came from and always went back to volunteering whenever they needed you. Like this weekend, for instance.

The summer holidays were closing in. Although most children were looking forward to it, others, less fortunate kids, dread the feeling of being trapped at home without anywhere to go for ten weeks. Especially children from trouble backgrounds where their parents where know alcoholics.

In this case, the school always used the last days of the term to cheer up the children with fun activities, sponsored by the local churches and volunteers like yourself signing up to help out.

"If we win the league, I'm taking you to Ibiza."

"If you win?" You giggled. Ruben came out of the bathroom, toothbrush in his mouth. He was so eager to start the last game of the season for Man City. Today was the day his team could make Premier league history by becoming the first team to secure four back to back titles.

"Yes, if we win. Nothing is for certain." He said, darting his toothbrush at you.

You shook your head. Ruben was just being daft. City would win their game today against West Ham, and they would win it easily.

A few hours later, as you watch the refeee blow the final whistle, Manchester City were champions once again.

"Baby, what did I say!" Ruben cheered. "Start packing your fucking bags."

It was hysterical. The scenes at the Ethiad stadium were very hysterical, with fans invading the pitch from all directions. You were a little afraid to step onto it yourself. However, Ruben would be very disappointed if you didn't. In the joyous state that he was in, he would've probably climbed the stands and carried you onto the pitch himself.

"Did I tell you how much I fucking love you?" Ruben pressed a wet kiss to your forhead before running off with his teammates, all of them celebrating like a pack of hooligans. It was all very hysterical and brilliant at the same time.

"I can't find my mommy."

Walking around the pitch, taking it all in, how happy and proud Ruben must be of himself and his teammates, you suddenly bumped into a child who seemed a bit dissoriented and anxious to be reunited with his parents.

"Have you lost your mother?" You asked, kneeling down to be at eye level with the boy.

"Yes, I think she went with daddy?"

"Alright, let's go find mommy and daddy then. Would you like that?"

The boy nodded and felt safe enough to accept your offer to hold his hand.

"Oh my God, Rome!"

It didn't take long for you to find out who the child belonged to. You had practically been looking for each other.

"Shit Y/N, you found him."

"He actually found me." You smiled and watched Kevin de Bruyne reunite with his son.

"I don't know how to thank you. Michele was so worried."

"All is well now."

"Yeah, thanks to you."

It was something, seeing a father's relief. Sometimes you wonder if Ruben would be like that, a carrying father?

"Will we see you tonight?" Kevin asked, little Rome in his arms.

"Tonight?"

"Yes, for the celebration party?"

"Oh, that." It sounded fun, truly. But you had a long week ahead, starting tomorrow.

You had to get to the school early to help the other volunteers set everything up. You explained this to Kevin, who seemed to understand.

"To be honest, I'm not one for parties either. It's sounds like fun, volunteering."

"You should try it." You said. And with that, Kevin left to find his wife and their other children while you went to collect an ecstatic Ruben before he hurt himself.

"What do you mean you're not coming with me to the party?"

Unlike Kevin, Ruben didn't take the news as well. The two of you returned home, with Ruben noticing that you weren't getting ready to go out, like him.

"Well, I have to get up early tomorrow."

"So?"

"Ruben? "

"Come on baby, it's not everyday I win a championship?"

"Four in a row, Ruben. You've literally won four in a row." And you had been there to witness two of them.

He grinned. "Isn't it lovely?"

You rolled your eyes.

"Come on, baby." Ruben trailed your steps through the apartment. "What about Ibiza, we leave right after the City parade. Please tell me you're coming with me to that?"

"The parade, or Ibiza?"

"You're kidding me right?"

"Ruben." You sighed. "I've told you how important volunteering for the kids is to me."

"But won't there be other volunteers?"

"No, Ruben, they're gonna need all hands on deck, we're already very short staffed."

"Because the school is so run down. Why would anyone want to volunteer there?"

You paused, mouth wide open.

"What?"

"I can't believe you just said that."

"It's the truth."

"Ruben, that school has been there for all my life. I grew up going to that school." You felt yourself getting rallied up. How could Ruben be so stubborn about this when he knew how important your job was to you?

"Okay, look...." He whipped out his phone in one last attempt to win you over. "Just give me the number of the principal, and I'll make sure to forward a nice little donation to the school, of course in the return that you will come with me to Ibiza. There, problem solved."

"No, Ruben!" You groand. "The only problem I have right now is you not hearing me out."

"Come on baby, let's not fight. The car will be here in a minute."

"Ruben! Do you even hear yourself right now? I get wanting to celebrate with your teammates, but you're gonna have to accept the fact that I'm NOT coming with you!"

That seemed to do it.

That was the end of the shouting.

Disappointed, Ruben left for the party without you. And you went to bed with a headache that would last all week.

It was only around Wednesday that you no longer thought of your heated argument with Ruben. By then, the title celebrations in England were over, with Ruben hopping on a plane to take him and his friends straight to Ibiza.

Perhaps it was for the best that you spent sometime apart. You were too emerged in your volunteer work anyway.

"Miss Y/N, can you go on the waterslide with me? I'm scared."

"Scared?"

With the church donations, the school was able to set up a blow-up waterslide. All children seemed to enjoy it, although you admit that the construction looked very steep.

"Yes, I'm scared so will you ride it with me?"

"Erm....I don't know Nelson. I didn't bring any swim wear."

"Oh, okay." The boy muttered.

"I'll go with you on the slide."

The boy gasped, eyes wide as he perked up. "Kevin de Bruyne!"

You snapped your head back and were equally surprised. "Kevin? What are you...."

"Hey everyone, it's Kevin de Bruyne!" Nelson shouted, alerting a flock of children to head your way.

Kevin smiled. "Ruben forwarded the address and said you might need a hand."

"He did?"

Cheering children cane running towards you, and soon Kevin was ambushed by all of them.

Behind him was his wife, Michele, and their kids. "I guess my kids better hurry up and get on the slide now, while my husband distracts the others." She smiled.

"Um...help yourself." You stammered, not really sure how this came to be.

"Y/N?"

And as if things weren't strange enough, John Stones and Kyle Walker came walking through the school gates. They had also brought along their families. "Ruben promised there would be food." Kyle said.

"Um, there is." You pointed towards the table next to the grill.

"Great. Kids, run along. Daddy has to eat."

"I'm sorry about him." John smiled, giving you a hug. "It was all pretty last minute of Ruben to invite us. I didn't even know that the two of you were volunteers."

"Neither did I." You frowned. "You said Ruben invited you?"

"Yeah." John nodded. "I think he messaged everyone in the Man City group chat. The rest are probably on their way."

"The rest?" You looked to the gates, and indeed, some very nice cars were seen pulling up to the school parking lot. You recognized everyone of Ruben's teammates, including their family's. Even some of the City staff members were seen entering the school yard.

"I think we're gonna need more food." The principal, who appeared behind you, said. She looked more excited than anxious, peering her head to see who was next to walk through the gates. Your heart skipped at the sight of him, Ruben, carrying the child of his teammate Bernardo Silva.

"I know he is your sagnificant other..." The principal said as the two of you watched Ruben make his way over. "But I figured he'd be too busy with the celebrations of winning the league. I didn't want to come off as too forward by asking you to invite him. You know....for the children."

"Right."

"I'm glad you did it anyway."

"I actually...didn't." You turned around to see that the principal was gone. She had joined the children to watch Kevin de Bruyne go down the water slide.

"I think that's everyone?"

You turned around to find Ruben and Bernardo standing before you. They were looking around the crowded school yard, kids mixed with the newly crowned title winners. It was surreal, with everyone, even the volunteers looking to enjoy themselves.

"It's a good thing you got going here." Bernardo said, unhanding Ruben his child. "Make sure to invite us to the next one."

"Um...sure." You stammered, to which Ruben smiled. The two of you were left standing. Ruben towering over you like a tree. He stretched out his arms. "Suprise."

A smiled crept your face. You gave in, stepping forward to let him warp his giant arms around you.

"What about Ibiza?" You said, tilting your head.

Ruben looked down, eyes beaming brightly at you. "I was wrong, and you we right, I'm sorry."

You smiled. "Thank you."

He bent down, capturing your lips with his own. "You're there for my important stuff." He whispered. "It's only right that I should be there for your important stuff too."

"Oh, Ruben."

He kissed you again, assuring you that he was indeed in it for the long hall.

#fanfiction #football imagine #ruben dias #man city #footballer x reader #footballer imagine #manchester city #football angst #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias x black reader #ruben dias angst

[w2soneshots]

Roommates -W2S

Words: 1.3k+

Warnings: smut, light angst.

In which you and Harry spend lockdown together in your own little flat that’s located next to the sidemen house. Eventually Harry catches feelings and the unexpected (yet very overdue) happens.

a/n: heyy🫶🏼. My lockdown fic got so much love so I’m hoping you’ll all enjoy this one just as much! This request is so iconic. Don’t forget to reblog!!😚🤍

I've known the boys since I was young. I went to school with Tobi and Josh then when youtube came around we started playing games together. Soon they had created one of the biggest groups on youtube and I was their most requested guest. I have a great relationship with all of them and immediately hit it off with Freya and Talia.

Last month the uk went into a full lockdown. Josh, Freya, Simon, Talia, JJ and Vik were already living in the same house but Tobi, Ethan, Harry and myself packed our things and also moved in. Because we didn't want to be trapped in the middle of London alone. But since there aren't enough bedrooms for all of us, we flipped a coin to decide who would stay in the small granny flat at the end of the garden. Me and Harry ended up winning and I was actually really happy that I would only be sharing my space with one other person instead of nine.

At the beginning it was going great. Everyone was a little fed up with the fact we couldn't leave the house but we were lucky enough that we have a huge garden that makes you feel a little less claustrophobic. Me and Harry are getting along really well. We have separate bedrooms but share a bathroom, which can be slightly annoying at times.

One night I sat on the small couch in our living room/kitchen. Harry clicked open the door after coming back from filming with the boys. "Hey. How'd it go?" I asked, glancing up from my phone. "Uh- good." He replied plainly. My brows furrowed "are you okay?" I stood from the sofa. "Huh? Yea fine." He quickly entered his room then closed the door. I was a little confused but just assumed he was tired and didn't feel like talking.

The next night the same thing happened. He practically avoided me for an entire week. Until I'd had enough. I hesitated as I went to knock on his bedroom door. I took a deep breath then knocked my hand against the painted wood. "Harry?!" I heard a frustrated huff then the door cracked open. "Yes?" "Uhh, can we talk please?" I asked quietly. He looked down at the floor then left his room. We walked towards the kitchen and each sat down on one of the breakfast stools.

"Listen. I don't know if I did something to upset you but we're living together you can't just keep avoiding me. If you have something to say then just spit it out!" My voice raised as I spoke the last sentence. His jaw ticked. He looked me in the eyes, then his gaze flickered down to my lips. My breath hitched, my palms began to sweat and my heart beat so fast I thought it might pop out of my chest. The next few seconds were the slowest yet fastest of my life. He lent in and kissed me. Harry fucking Lewis kissed me. The boy I've known for so many years. The boy I've had a crush on since I was sixteen. But all this time I assumed he didn't feel the same so I suppressed the feelings as best I could.

I moved forward to place my hands on his cheeks, bringing him closer to me. As we broke away to breathe we rested our foreheads on each other's. We kept eye contact as he desperately placed his hands at my waist and lifted me onto the kitchen counter. He stood between my legs as he kissed me, hard. "Harry..." I moaned as he began kissing down my neck. He pulled my hoodie over my head revealing the small white cotton bralet I had on underneath. His eyes flickered from my chest back up to my eyes. "Are you sure you wanna do this?" He asked, with his hands by his sides. "Please Harry, please." I begged. He took that as a yes so quickly fumbled to remove his shirt.

He pulled me off the counter then carried me towards his bedroom, my legs wrapped around his torso. I kissed his shoulder gently as he walked. He groaned as we approached the bedroom. "I need you Harry." I whimpered as he lay me down on his soft sheets. The room was dark so I could only barely make out his figure stood before me. I could hear shuffling then my pants along with my underwear were being pulled down in one fail swoop. I gasped as he moved over me so his dick was just inches away from my soaking wet cunt. He gently wiped the hair from my face then attached his lips back to mine. "You ready?" He asked between wet kisses. "So ready."

After that night we continued to have sex regularly. We weren't sure what we were even labelled as yet so we decided to keep it a secret from everyone else. Thank god we were at the end of the garden or we would have a problem. I'm not exactly sure how the other couples in the house were managing to have a sex life. But me and Harry were so loud. We did it in every possible room, kitchen counter, sofa, shower, his bedroom, my bedroom. I think we were just so bored that the only thing to do was have sex.

Almost two months after that night he asked me to be his girlfriend. It was actually really romantic. He cooked me dinner in our kitchen, bearing in mind it wasn't the nicest pasta I've had but that didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was that he was officially mine and I was his.

Once the lockdown was fully lifted life seemed to return to (somewhat) normal. Tobi, Ethan, Harry and I moved out and moved back into our own apartments. We hadn't actually talked about what we were going to do once the lockdown ended. I obviously knew I still wanted to be with him but the realisation suddenly hit me that I was actually dating one of my best friends. One night Harry asked if we could tell everyone and I wasn't sure what to say. We decided that we would wait a little longer until I felt one hundred percent ready.

A month went by and we still hadn't told anyone. I lay in bed next to Harry, the sun shone through the blinds and I was completely naked, from last night's events. I slowly opened my eyes to see Harry looking at me. "Hi." I whispered sleepily. "Do you like me?" He asked. I wasn't expecting that. I pushed myself up so I was leaning on my forearm. "What? Of course I like you." I lent in to kiss him but he gently pushed me back. "Well why don't you want anyone to know about us?" His face was serious. I sighed then placed my hand on his cheek. "I just- well- I've known you since we were teenagers and I- I don't want to mess this up. I don't wanna lose you." I finally admitted. His face softened then he lent in to kiss me. "I love you y/n." He whispered. My heart warmed. "I love you too." "I've wanted to say that for a while but I had to make sure you felt the same." He kissed me again.

The next day Harry brought me along to a sidemen shoot. "So, me and Harry have been- um- daiting for a while." I announced. They didn't seem to be very shocked. "Yea we figured that out when I went to ask if you wanted something from Nando's, since you weren't answering your phones, and I heard some... strange noises." Ethan explained with a chuckle. My face turned bright red. "Oh my god." I buried my face into Harry's shoulder.

#w2s #harry w2s #harry lewis #wrotoshaw #wroetoshaw #w2s x reader #w2s fic #w2s imagine #wroetoshaw x reader #wroetoshaw oneshot #harry lewis x reader #harry x reader #youtuber x reader #british youtubers #fanfic #image #oneshot #x fem!reader #x y/n #x you #x reader #sidemen x reader #sidemen #lockdown #smut #angst

[hannahssimblr]

In the hallway after school on Tuesday, as I head to my locker to retrieve my gear bag, I spot Miss O’Reilly. She is locking up the art room, and gives me a big smile as I approach her. She’s always doing that, smiling at me, I mean, and it throws me off. It's usually not the expression teachers have when they see me coming.

I smile awkwardly in return and she turns her body towards me, takes a step, prompting me to halt beside her instead of barrelling past her like I would have, not enthused about facing the wrath of Doherty if I hit the rugby pitch even one minute late. 

“Jude! I've been meaning to congratulate you.”

“Um, for what?”

She laughs as though I’m being dense deliberately, “I spoke to Eileen, the guidance counsellor last Friday and she told me about your offers.”

“Oh, for college.”

“Yes! How wonderful. I’m just so pleased for you that everything worked out the way that you hoped it would, after all of the hard work you put in this last year it’s just fantastic to hear it. And tell me, did you get accepted to every college you applied for?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow,” she takes a big pause, taking it in, “wow. You must be delighted. How does it feel?”

“I dunno, miss.”

“Hard to get your head around, I’m sure. Your parents must be proud too.”

“Mm.”

She’s determined to ignore our mismatched attitudes towards this news, taking a big, jubilant breath before launching into more affirmations, “well, what a confirmation of your talent and skill. I had a really good feeling about your work when you came to my class last year, and I’m just so pleased that you got the results you wanted. Have you decided which college to choose yet?”

I shift my weight from one foot to the other, “yeah I’m choosing NCAD.”

“Oh!” I can tell she’s trying to maintain her upbeat attitude, but eyebrows slowly draw together in confusion, “I hadn’t realised you changed your plan. When we last spoke about it in March you told me you were looking forward to attending universities abroad.”

I shrug, “Yeah, I, um, I changed my mind in the end. I’m going to stay in Dublin.”

“Hm, okay, I just… Jude, do you mind if I ask you why?”

“Yeah, you can ask,” I say, and am instantly horrified by the tremor in my voice. I fight it back with a hard swallow, “It’s just, like… um,” Oh God. What is happening to me? I’m conscious of the crowds of students milling through the hallway right behind me, and of the fact that I categorically cannot do this here. “Sorry…”

“Oh, come in,” she says in a low voice, jangling the keys in the art room door with an urgency that feels entirely necessary, and when she lets me into the room ahead of her I stand dumbly in the middle of it as she fumbles with the blind over the glass doors, tingling jolts of anxiety running down my arms and through the tips of my fingers. 

“What is it, sweetheart?” She says, and simply that, the word she uses and the way she uses it makes me want to crumple onto the linoleum floor in front of her. 

“You’re alright, you’re just…” she purses her lips, searching for the word, “overwhelmed, I’d say. College and all of that kind of thing, it can get on top of you at this time of year. I know it’s a lot to think about.”

I manage a grunt of vague agreement. 

Miss O’Reilly drags a folding chair from the side of the room, “C’mere, sit down there and we’ll have a quick chat about it.”

“Um, Mr. Doherty…” I say, and she understands, “Don’t mind him. I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

She settles into a seat across from me, and gives me an encouraging smile. As I search for the words I want to say I’m cognizant of how comforting this woman is, how unfazed she is by me and whatever it is that is happening to me in this room. She has a daughter, I know that, a daughter who goes to our school and for a moment I’m jealous of her, that fourteen year old girl who gets to have a mother like this one, that is soft and comforting in all the places where mine is sharp and disinterested in me and every feeling I have ever experienced. 

I’m not convinced that I even know how to talk about things like this, afraid that I will try to and come across like the weirdest, most unhinged person on the planet. My thoughts and feelings will be so nonsensical that they will make everyone around me cringe with discomfort. “I’m trying to do the right things,” I attempt, “but somehow the right things feel very wrong to me.”

“When you say ‘the right things’, Jude, do you mean you want to choose the right college?”

I nod. 

“And why does NCAD seem like the right choice?”

“Because of my girlfriend.”

“Michelle?”

“Yeah. I didn’t know you knew that to be honest.” I never thought that teachers noticed or cared about things that weren’t arbitrary uniform rules and homework assignments, but evidently I was wrong.

She smiles kindly, “So Michelle is going to NCAD?”

“Yeah if she gets the points in her leaving. She applied for all the same colleges as me but got none and now I feel sort of... like I have to stay for her.”

“Is that the right decision for you?”

“I dunno, miss.”

She hums contemplatively, “I’m sure you’re tired of hearing this kind of thing, but it’s not always the best choice to base big life choices on your girlfriend when you’re only eighteen years old. Especially one as important as your university.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s never an easy choice to make. I really empathise with you here, because when you’re in love with a person, you-”

“I don’t even know if I love her.”

There’s a pause, she looks surprised, and so am I. I'm stunned that I told her that, this thought that I've never dared to utter before.

And then everything comes spilling out of me. “Look, it’s just that I feel very trapped,” I say, “Sometimes I think there’s something abnormal about my brain, because I make decisions that even I don’t understand, like with Michelle... when I think about us being together and our relationship I can hardly remember anything good that’s happened between us for a long time, the last fun thing we did or the last time I felt happy. I can’t even remember what I was thinking when we got together. I feel like I’m on autopilot, or like things are just happening to me without me having a hand in it.

“Somehow I’ve just, like, ended up here and I’m making plans with her and promising her things that I haven’t even decided if I want yet. I thought that I wanted to move away, but maybe I don’t anymore. Maybe it’s wrong of me to do that, because what if I go away and then I realise that what I actually wanted was to be with Michelle?” 

I breathe in, knowing that I have probably been talking too much, but now I am unwilling to stop, “My parents, they’re fighting a lot at home. Something happened a few months ago and it's just been a battlefield ever since. I know that if I go away I’ll leave my sister alone to deal with all of it. She’s only nine, and the constant tension upsets her so much, she goes into a spin about it and starts fantasising about all of these awful scenarios, and see, my parents don’t know how to deal with her, they don’t really like it when kids act like kids. Or at least they’re not that interested in them– in her. I keep imagining this future where I’m gone, I’ve left home and I’m hundreds of miles away and she’s all on her own with them, and there’s nobody to really look after her because I can’t get home so easily, and when I think like that, even the thought of going away, even wanting it a little bit makes me feel like the most selfish boy on earth…”

Miss O’Reilly produces a tissue and holds it out to me. I stare at it for several seconds before I realise she is offering it because I have started to cry. My face is somehow wet with tears. “Oh,” I say, hoarsely and take it. 

“Jude, you’re still a teenager.” She says gently, “You can’t possibly be responsible for the emotions of every other person around you. It’s too much.”

“Yeah.”

“When you’re young you have to make selfish decisions, ones meant for yourself and yourself only. Nobody else is going to make them for you. You have to really ask yourself what the right choice is for you, whether you’ll be able to be truly happy in your current circumstance where nothing may change or will you be better off on your own, doing something you love and experiencing real freedom in spite of how others may feel about it.” 

I wipe my eyes and nod, staring down at my lap, still in a state of shame and disbelief that I have allowed myself to sob like this in front of my teacher, though if she is bothered she doesn’t show it. 

“When you imagine your ideal life,” she urges, “where none of these things are a factor, not the things you promised to Michelle, not what's going on at home, what does it look like?”

“God,” I breathe, almost chuckling because the answer is so easy, “I’m gone. I’m not here. I’m just miles away and I’m making art and hanging out and doing what I like.” It sounds so simple when I say it out loud, yet for the longest time now I’ve felt like a criminal for wanting these things. 

“And where do you see yourself?”

“Berlin,” I say, surprising myself. It’s not like I’ve put real time into thinking about this, visualised myself walking those streets, in fact I don’t even know what Berlin looks like, but it feels right to say it, as though there is some cosmic reason for me to go there. Perhaps only because it’s the furthest from home. 

Miss O’Reilly nods, “NCAD is a fine college, Jude, but your talent is wasted in a place where you don’t want to be. You could do anything you want. You have incredible potential and I’d be very sad to see it wasted. Life passes you by very quickly, you know, and these kinds of opportunities don’t present themselves as often as you think. It may seem obvious, but you only have one life to live.”

“Yeah.”

“I can’t tell you what to do. I can’t make a decision for you, but all I want you to do is really think about this. Put a good amount of thought into what you really want when you remove everyone else from the equation, then, once you know, you can decide what's worth sacrificing. Do you think you can do that?”

“Yes, miss.”

“Good, then that's your homework,” She smiles and reaches to squeeze my hand, which I am embarrassed about because my skin is clammy, but just like everything else about this moment that is humiliating to me, it doesn't appear to faze her.

“Thank you,” I say, and she nods. “I hope you’re not in a hurry to get to your rugby practice.”

“No,” I sniff, and let out a thick laugh, “No miss, I think I’ll skip it today.”

“Good,” she says, “That’s a good start, see? Here you are, doing exactly as you wish.”

She smiles at me, once again, that bright, warm smile, and I give her one in return because maybe it's just me, my weird brain and the things it invents, but the feeling of hope that rises in me in that moment feels very real.

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky boy 2010 #that's the last of April!! #i'm so exicted to move on from this #and say goodbye to this cursed school

[waynes-multiverse]

Polaris – Chapter 4

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, so many flashbacks, more awkwardness, more funerals, more drinking, more murder, some fluff and a sprinkle of smut too

Word Count: 6.3k

A/N: Life got a little busy, so I've been a bit absent recently, but I'm so happy and grateful you guys are enjoying this series so far! All your sweet comments really put a smile on my face during all the chaotic and exhausting times 🥹🤍

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 4: Rewind

A tequila hangover required copious amounts of coffee to battle the raging headache you felt. Your eyes stung when they met the blinding sun this morning, not even your darkest pair of shades bringing much relief.

Your whole body ached, a welcoming soreness between your weak and wobbly legs as you stalked inside the little bakery and coffee shop on Main Street USA. Beau had already scolded you for calling it that, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Helena’s sheriff then had sent you here for your morning coffee run, hoping this way you’d avoid the questioning and curious stares of Jenny and Cassie. Needless to say, you had never made it to Cassie’s place last night. Beau had been very convincing (and successful) in making you stay.

Hands, lips, teeth, and tongue – you clenched at the thought alone, cursing yourself for soaking through your fresh underwear. How good were your chances for a quickie during lunch break in his office if you promised to thoroughly lock his goddamn door this time?

“Y/N, hey.” Carla’s voice made you flinch and pulled you from your naughty reverie – about her ex-husband no less.

Had you mentioned how much you hated small towns?

“Hey, Carla,” you greeted her with a flushed smile, hoping you hid your blushed cheeks and fluster well. You definitely felt caught with your hand in the cookie jar, although it was thankfully impossible for her to read your mind.

Was there no safe place to quietly get coffee in this goddamn village?

“Listen, Y/N, again, I’m so sorry about yesterday,” she apologized and nervously fumbled with her coffee cup in her hands, her gaze focusing on her heels.

Carla was usually confidence personified. She was strong-willed, assertive, and dauntless ��� all the traits that made her a fierce and excellent lawyer and a force to be reckoned with in court. It was rare for her to lower her head, so you knew she must really be trying to make amends.

“No, don’t be. Like I said, we’re good,” you assured her and swallowed the lump of embarrassment down your throat. “I get it. I really do. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, too. I never meant for any of this to happen, you know?”

You never had gotten a chance to say it before. You had always felt bad for the way the two of you had left things. Carla was by far not your closest friend, but the tight friendship between both your husbands and the nature of your jobs had forced you to spend time together occasionally. You’d meet at barbecues on the weekends, drinks after work, and life events like Emily’s middle school graduation. You never meant to betray her. You never meant to hurt her. And you never meant for your friendship to implode like it did.

“I know. It’s okay, really,” Carla said. “I already told Beau this yesterday, but I want him to be happy. That goes for you, too. I found my happiness after the divorce. At least for a while…”

Upon her sad look, you gave her a sympathetic smile. You knew she wasn’t married to Avery for long, but that didn’t matter. You understood better than anyone what it was like to lose someone you loved.

“Hey, if you ever need someone to talk, call me, okay? I feel like I owe you a whole pitcher of margaritas,” you offered with a chuckle.

She returned your kindness with a soft smile. “Thank you. I’ll take you up on that.”

“Well, if this ain’t interestingly awkward.”

Both you and Carla turned to Beau in surprise as he strolled through the doors of the coffee shop. Leave it to him to voice the uncomfortableness of the situation out loud.

“Hey, uhm… you,” you said with wide eyes and fist-bumped his arm. Obviously, you weren’t equipped to handle awkwardness very smoothly, either.

Beau sent you a tight-lipped smile that barely hid his amusement. “Do I need to pull out the sheriff’s badge here, or are you two good?”

“We’re good,” you assured him.

“Oh, relax, Beau,” Carla told him with an amused laugh and patted his shoulder in passing on her way out of the shop. “Don’t kid yourself. You could not handle either one of us, anyway.”

“Probably true,” Beau quipped in agreement as Carla waved you goodbye.

Beau waited till the door safely closed behind his ex before tilting his head at you, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “You really good?”

“No!” you exclaimed frustratedly.

Laughing, he slung his arms around you and pulled you against his chest. Embarrassed, you buried your face in his shirt, clasping it with your palms for good measure.

“Tomorrow I’m getting coffee in the next town over. I really hate small towns,” you grumbled.

“So, I’m guessin’ you’re not a big fan of staying after the case is over, huh?” he asked carefully and rubbed his beard.

Truthfully, you hadn’t thought about it until now. But Beau clearly had as he nervously chewed his lower lip and waited for your answer.

You glanced up at him through your eyelashes. “Well, uhm… Montana doesn’t have a field office. The next one’s in Utah, and I hate Utah.”

“Yeah, everyone does. It’s Utah,” Beau agreed jokingly. “Could always work here. Sheriff’s Department could use someone like you.”

You snorted. “Yeah, not gonna happen. You’re not gonna be the boss of me. That’ll have to stay a fantasy of yours.”

“Too bad. It was a good one,” he retorted with a cheeky smile and wiggled his eyebrows. Then, he became more serious. He scratched the nape of his neck in an anxious gesture. “But look, uhm, I was about to retire anyway, so I’m just putting that on the table, okay?”

“Alright, good to know. I’ll keep that in mind.”

You smiled softly up at him, thinking it was cute he wanted to follow you wherever you went. He’d never handled your relationship so open and secure before. In the past, everything always dangled in the air – his feelings, your future. Unlike the North Star, nothing was fixed.

You had always been a flag he’d never preferred to wave.

You let out a small sigh and pecked his lips. “But this case is far from over, so we’ve got time to figure it out, okay?”

He nodded, a bit more relieved at your answer. “Okay.”

August 2020

Beau rubbed his face clean as best as he could. His eyes were red and stung, his vision blurry as he stepped out of the church’s back room on shaky bow legs. He had to talk to you and make things right. He felt like he not only failed you but also his best friend. Again.

The funeral guests filtered out of the church one by one as he trudged down the red-carpeted aisle. Beau could feel their stares and judgments on him. He knew he looked like the biggest mess, his suit and tie in disarray, tousled hair, and bloodshot eyes. How many of them blamed him for his partner’s death?

“Dad?” Emily’s voice made his heart ache as his thirteen-year-old daughter looked at him with a mix of worry and disenchantment. He barely resembled the father she’d known all her life and held high on a pedestal.

“Emily, honey, go wait in the car,” Carla told her swiftly, taking immediate note of her husband’s disheveled status.

“But Mom–”

“Now, Emily,” Carla ordered more firmly and watched her daughter quietly leave the church.

“Have you seen Y/N?” Beau asked, trying his best to swallow any shame he felt down. He hated that his family had to see him like this. The disappointment and hurt were visible as clear as day in both their faces.

“You gotta be kidding me…” Carla scoffed in anger and disbelief, a part of her hardly grasping the current state of her husband. “Where the hell were you, Beau? Jesus, you reek! Have you been drinking?”

“I already went through this today, okay? I don’t need a replay,” he replied flatly, every part of him hating how she looked at him. “Have you seen Y/N or not?”

“Beau, what’s going on with you? Just talk to me, please,” Carla pleaded with him as the anger subsided, concern etched into her brow. “What happened during that shootout?”

Beau ran a hand over his face, his head spinning and his eyes burning. “I can’t do this right now. Just take Em home, okay?” he told her and pushed past her.

“Where are you going? Beau!” Carla called after him, but he stubbornly headed out the door to the parking lot.

Fortunately, you still hadn’t left, but what he was seeing didn’t put him more at ease. He watched as you put a clip into your gun, a duffel bag hurriedly packed with clothes lying in the trunk of your SUV.

You threw your black pumps carelessly into the backseat before slipping into a pair of worn jeans under your black dress, which you discarded next, leaving you momentarily in only a black satin bra. He averted his gaze and tried not to stare, even though you had your back turned to him, and he couldn’t see much anyway. Still, his heartbeat quickened as he approached you, while you pulled a white t-shirt over your head and tied your wavy hair into a ponytail.

“What are you doing?” Beau asked, the feeling in the pit of his stomach and the determination in your eyes already giving him a good guess.

“What does it look like? I’m going after them,” you said sternly and tied the laces on your boots. “DEA is going down to Mexico in a couple of weeks. Cody’s leading a task force. I fought my way in. They wanna scope out some locations tomorrow.”

“Are you kidding me? Y/N, just look at you! You’re not going after them alone in this state,” Beau snapped, throwing his arms up in utter incredulity. His gut ordered him to protect you no matter the cost. He owed as much to his dead partner to look out for you. It was a constant debt in his mind.

“My state?” You cocked an eyebrow and snorted caustically, shaking your head at him. “Have you fucking looked at yourself recently? Compared to you, I’m fine. And I also won’t be alone.”

“You’re not fine,” Beau gritted with anger in his eyes and worry in his heart. “We’re all fucking far from fine. You’re gonna get yourself killed like this!”

“I don’t have time for this right now,” you brushed him off with a roll of your eyes and slammed the trunk shut, hurrying to the driver’s side. But a rough grab of your arm stopped you in your tracks and made you spin and glare at Beau.

“Dammit, Y/N!”

Your features softened when you saw the desperation in his look. “I need to do this, Beau,” you insisted calmly and looked deeply into his watery eyes. Tears filled your gaze and threatened to choke you. “I want them to pay for what they’ve done to him. They can’t get away with it.”

His grip on your arm loosened before he let you go completely. He ran a palm over his face and carded it through his messy hair.

“Fine,” he barked resolutely, the despair replaced by determination. “But I’m coming with you. You’re not doing this alone.”

“What, so you can get me killed, too?”

You squeezed your eyes shut as soon as the words rushed out and pinched the bridge of your nose. Immediate regret flooded your veins.

When you finally dared to glance at him, he looked hurt and averted his gaze to the burning asphalt below. He smacked his lips, head bobbing. It felt like you had just thrown an ax to his heart, whipped him, bludgeoned him with a baseball bat, and shot him in the knee – all at once.

“Beau, I’m so sorry.” You could see in his eyes that your apology already came too late. He was spiraling, blaming himself for Randy’s death. “I know it wasn’t your fault. I didn’t mean it like that. I just-… It’s been a long day.”

“Nope, no, you’re right. Don’t apologize,” he rebuffed your efforts to patch the wound you’d opened with a dark chuckle. You felt like utter shit. “I let him down. If it weren’t for me, he’d still be alive, so…”

“Beau, don’t do this. He wouldn’t want you to. And neither do I for that matter…” You reached out and clasped his hand reassuringly. But it didn’t feel like it was enough, so you wrapped your arms around him, too, and pulled him into a hug.

Beau was frozen for a moment when he felt your body pressed flush against his before he wrapped his arms around you as well and held you tightly. Carefully, he rested his chin on top of your head, the scent of your shampoo winding its way to his nose. And for a mere second, he let go and allowed himself to be comforted, soothing warmth spreading throughout his body.

“I gotta go,” you said quietly as you released him. But Beau held onto your hand with his for a heartbeat before realizing the strangeness of his touch and withdrew his arm quickly with a clear of his throat, fingers ripping apart at the seams.

“Lemme come with you. Lemme help,” he stated.

“Beau, no offense, but you’re a mess,” you said with gentle honesty. “Can you even walk a straight line? Stand on one leg and touch the tip of your nose? Recite the alphabet backwards?”

He actually snorted at that, his lips forming a small smile. “Fair enough,” he conceded. “I’ll get better. Promise, okay? Just please… I need this, too.”

As you stared at him, you heaved a deep sigh. “Fine, get in,” you relented and gestured with your chin to the passenger’s side of your car. “But let’s hit a Denny’s first. Get some goddamn coffee and toast into you. Maybe a shower would help, too.”

Beau chuckled a little at that, nodding. “Yes, ma’am.”

February 2012

Randy groaned loudly as he passed Beau the football, letting his head fall back between his shoulder blades. “Ugh, I can’t believe the Captain agreed to give the case to the stupid FBI. It was our case, man. We almost had the guy!”

“Yeah, I know. But hey, we could still follow our own leads. Solve it before the feds do. What’s Harper gonna do?” Beau suggested with a cocky smirk.

“I don’t know. Suspend us? Fire us? Just to name a few,” Randy quipped sarcastically and threw his partner a raised look.

Beau scoffed playfully and rolled his eyes. “Always by the book. You’re no fun,” he said with a teasing smile.

“Well, I can still bash the feds who are stealing this case from us. It’s probably some dumb asshole in a suit and sunglasses,” Randy joked and laughed, not noticing Beau’s facial expression change as he lowered his gaze to the floor, lips pursing.

You cleared your throat behind the chuckling detective, causing him to turn around and blink up at you.

“Well, I’m an asshole. I can admit as much. Definitely not dumb, though. I hate suits, and I don’t wear sunglasses indoors. Only douchebags do that,” you quipped and sent him a complacent smile upon his wide-eyed stare. Then, you arched a brow at the guy. “And stealing, really? You guys haven’t made progress on the case for weeks. Probably because you keep playing football instead of working.”

“Whoa, hey!” Beau threw in, furrowing his brow. “It’s a brainstorming technique, okay?”

“Yeah, for dumbasses,” you retorted. “Did you already get a concussion? Would explain a few things, mainly how you screwed up this case so much. It’s not rocket science, boys.”

“Okay, listen, missy. We did not screw up this case. We have leads, alright?” Beau argued fervently and took a step closer to you, his shoulders tensing as he was only inches away from your face.

You had the urge to tiptoe just to keep up with him for a proper face-off. He was tall, gigantic really, and now you were left to glare more or less into his chest.

“Who? The buyer for the jeweler? It wasn’t him. I already checked him out,” you said dismissively and could tell by Beau’s frown that it indeed had been his only lead. You then glanced at his partner. “Is he gonna say something or just stare? It’s not helping to refute my concussion theory, you know?”

Beau knitted his brow and shot his partner a look. As soon as he realized what was going on, he rolled his eyes and sighed. His best friend was running hot for Agent Hostile. Granted, you did look very sexy with all that fire burning in your eyes.

“Ey, Randy!” Beau snapped his fingers in front of his partner and hauled him from his surely naughty daydream.

“Uhm… I’m Randy,” he told you, dumbfounded.

Your eyebrows shot up to your hairline, your mouth itched to smile in amusement. “Wow, okay… Does that come with a last name?”

Randy still gave you that same vacant and infatuated stare in his hazel eyes. “You can call me whatever you want.” He sent you an insecure smile with a halfway shrug.

“Oh, can I call you a moron?” you countered snappily.

Amused, Beau actually snorted into his shoulder as he dipped his head, but then decided to step in for his best friend. “Okay, c’mon, leave him be.”

“Look, just gimme the file, and I’ll be outta your hair,” you submitted your peace offering, which Beau accepted, handing you the folder.

“Uh… drinks?” Randy looked up at you hopefully, like a shelter puppy waiting to be adopted. You honestly found his fluster quite endearing.

“Is he asking me out?” you checked with Beau, a smile playing on your lips.

“I think so.” Beau chuckled and nodded. “Look, uh–”

“Y/N,” you provided, noticing him fumble for a name.

“Y/N,” he repeated with a warm smile that reached his green eyes. “Maybe we got off on the wrong foot here. We could help you with the case. We know it better than anyone. Could save you some work.”

You smirked slightly, recognizing what he was doing. First of all, he wanted in on the case, clearly having a hard time letting go. You knew the type all too well. Sometimes people in law enforcement behaved like bratty toddlers when it came to cases – they all hated sharing their toys, but you knew how to play nice. And secondly, Beau wanted to ensure you got to spend more time with his partner – the perfect wingman. He deserved a medal for his efforts.

You lifted a knowing eyebrow at him. “Didn’t your captain already say no?”

“But what d’you say, darlin’?” He shot you a mischievous grin.

“You’re a troublemaker,” you noted and received an acknowledging shrug in return. “Are you gonna behave, Ferris Bueller?”

“Yes, ma’am. Hand on my red-blooded and beating heart,” Beau promised charmingly and did as advertised, placing his palm on his chest like he was swearing a Boy Scout oath.

Rolling your eyes, you groaned and caved. “Fine. I’ll talk to your captain. You guys can come along, I guess.”

Beau handed you their card with their numbers on it before you disappeared out of the station again. Comfortingly, he patted his partner’s back as soon as you had left, Randy still staring after your goddamn shadow.

“I wanna marry her,” Randy sighed dreamily.

“Whoa… Moving way too fast here, buddy,” Beau tried to rein him in. “Maybe try speaking a straight sentence to her first.”

“I can’t. I’m in love with her. She’s the one.”

“She called you a moron,” Beau countered and crossed his arms over his chest, although he kind of understood where Randy was coming from. If he hadn’t been married, he would’ve given you his best shot as well.

“That only made me love her more,” Randy insisted.

Sighing theatrically, Beau rolled his eyes back. “Dear Lord, help me…”

Randy then went on a long tangent about everything he loved about you. The words he’d been missing when you were around suddenly spilled out of him. And while Beau acted annoyed, he smiled internally for his friend’s happiness. He’d never seen him before like this.

June 2013

“Oh God, I think I’m gonna puke,” Randy said and swallowed what felt like bile in his throat. With his hands on his hips, he took a deep breath, but it did nothing to calm his nerves. “Can you give me that trash can?”

Beau handed him the bin next to him with an amused chuckle. “Alright, but just remember – no matter what you do, don’t puke on the suit.”

Randy scowled at him, panic taking over as he nervously paced the fancy dressing room. “Not in the mood for jokes right now, man,” he huffed.

Beau laughed heartily and raised his hands in surrender. He got up from his seat on the small and uncomfortable sofa and patted his friend on the back, squeezing his shoulders encouragingly. “Okay, calm down. Everything will work out fine. Why are you so nervous anyway? Is this you having cold feet? Should I do somethin’? Start a getaway car?”

Taken aback by the suggestion, Randy’s brow furrowed, close to offended. “What? No! I love Y/N. I can’t wait to marry her,” he stated with absolute certainty. “I just-… I don’t wanna stand up there and, you know, look like a moron. I want today to be perfect for her.”

Beau snorted a laugh. “Alright, you won’t, okay? That’s what I’m here for. If you do somethin’ stupid up there, I’m gonna distract everyone with somethin’ stupider. That’s basically my duty as best man.”

“Yeah, Y/N’s gonna love that,” Randy quipped sarcastically and chuckled. But the lighthearted distraction didn’t last long before his nerves burned through him again. “You think I can make her happy?”

Beau smiled at him warmly. “The way she looks at you, you already are. Trust me.”

“Okay, good.” Randy nodded in relief. “‘Cause sometimes I really wonder how I got so lucky. I swear I didn’t speak in straight sentences for, like, the first three dates.”

“Oh, I remember.” Beau snorted.

“Man, were you this nervous, too, when you married Carla? I swear this is killing me,” Randy asked with his wildly beating heart in his throat. “I think I’m having a heart attack… Or a stroke. My head keeps spinning. Is that normal? Doesn’t feel normal…”

Beau hesitated for a moment before he nodded with a light swallow. “Yeah, sure. Everyone’s nervous,” he assured his partner, although the truth was a little different.

Carla was already pregnant when they tied the knot, so they did the right thing to appease their parents. But sometimes, Beau wished they would’ve waited. He could tell Carla did, too. They were both young. She had still been in law school, chasing her degree, and Beau had barely finished police academy and had still been working patrol.

Sure, he was nervous on his wedding day, but it wasn’t a puking-your-guts-out-and-jittering-to-your-bones kind of nervous. But Beau loved his family more than words could say and wouldn’t trade his daughter for anything.

“Hey, uh, can you ask Y/N about the marriage certificate? I’m supposed to give it to the officiant or something,” Randy said with a confused brow, scratching his sweaty neck.

“Yeah, of course. Be right back,” Beau replied with a saluting gesture and strutted to the door, encouragingly patting Randy’s shoulder once more on the way out. “Try not to soil yourself,” he teased, chuckling.

Beau then strolled down the lavish hallway of the five-star hotel and stopped in front of your dressing room door. He knocked twice and heard a “Come in!” bounce through. But when he opened the door and peeked his head carefully inside, he wasn’t prepared for the sight that greeted him.

“Wow… uh…” Beau’s forest-green eyes went wide as he blinked at you. He was rendered completely speechless. How did he turn into Randy so quickly?

As you sat in front of your vanity, you glanced at him over your naked shoulder before you stood up and greeted him with a bright smile.

Your white dress hugged your curves perfectly, strapless but with a bit of cleavage, giving a perfect view of your clavicle and shoulder blades. It wasn’t one of those puffy princess dresses. It was smooth, uncomplicated, and delicate just like you.

You looked absolutely stunning.

“Wow,” Beau repeated and felt like a moron. He cleared his throat to haul himself out of his shameless staring and tried to recover his composure. “You look beautiful, Y/N.”

“Thanks.” You beamed with blushed cheeks. “You think Randy’s gonna like it?”

Beau smiled kindly, unable to take his eyes off of you. “Yeah, he’s gonna love it. It’s gonna make him even more nervous,” he replied, chuckling.

But your brow creased in concern, your lips parting. “He’s nervous?”

“Yeah, but don’t worry,” Beau swiftly brushed your concerns away, “He’s nervous in a good way. No cold feet or anythin’ like it. He might just pass out and puke at the altar when you walk out. That’s all. Maybe some stuttering, too.”

You laughed softly, nodding. “That’s all, huh?” you teased. “Kinda like when we first met then,” you remembered fondly. “Or our first three dates, too, I guess.”

Musingly, Beau pursed his lips, his head bobbing in thought. “Hey, uh, can I just ask… Why did you keep going out with him? I mean, like you said he didn’t really speak for the first three dates. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a good-looking guy, but, you know, you’re, well… you.”

You snorted lightly and cast your gaze down as your cheeks flushed even deeper red. “Thank you, I guess? But, uhm, to answer your question – I kinda liked that he was so flustered. It was endearingly sweet,” you replied and smiled to yourself at the memory. “‘Sides, every time he did say something, it was oddly complimenting. He’s also the only guy who ever bought me flowers after our first night together. It came with an extensive ‘thank you’ card.”

“Oh, Randy, you sweet little idiot…” Beau sighed affectionately.

“He never told you that?” you asked curiously.

“Ha, no. For obvious reasons.” Beau laughed. “But hey, it’s great material for my best man speech later.”

“Oh God,” you groaned playfully and laughed. “Just so you know, though, I’m gonna cut you off after fifteen minutes.”

Beau threw his head back, laughing loudly. “Alright, I hear ya. Your loss, though.”

You watched him for a moment when your laughs quieted down. He scratched his bearded chin, gazing down at his feet and making no efforts to move.

“Beau?”

“Hm?” His eyes found your arched eyebrow.

“Did you come here for a reason or just to chitchat?” you asked with curious amusement. He seemed obviously lost.

“Oh, uh, right! I’m supposed to ask you about the marriage certificate and the officiant thingy,” he remembered.

You smiled. “Tell Randy it’s already taken care of. He doesn’t have to worry about anything, okay?”

“Alright, I’ll-, uhm, I’ll do that,” Beau said and awkwardly cleared his throat, walking to the door.

“Oh, and Beau?” He spun on his heel when you called his name. “Make sure Randy doesn’t puke on his suit.”

An amused smile shaped on his lips at that, and he nodded. “Oh, I’m on it. Trust me.”

When Beau left your room and wandered down the hallway again, a weird sting plagued his heart. Deciding it was a feeling he didn’t particularly care for, he pushed it deep down, not even admitting his true thoughts to himself under duress and torture.

He’d feel like an ass if he ever did.

Beau looked up from his files on his desk when a knock ripped him from his reverie. It was already getting dark outside, the sun setting behind the mountains. He smiled up at you from his chair when you peeked your head inside.

“Hey, Jenny and I are back from the crime scene,” you informed him as you stepped inside his office, closing the door behind you.

“And?”

“It’s definitely the woman from the video,” you confirmed sadly.

“We got a name yet?” Beau asked, his face stern, concern and compassion carved into every crease.

“Yeah, Addison Hughes. Husband reported her missing four days ago in Jefferson County. I already talked to the sheriff there. They’re handing us over the case,” you told him and noticed his suspiciously cocked brow.

“Uh-oh, I know what that means,” he quipped teasingly. “Were you nice?”

You gasped in mock-disbelief at his accusation. “What d’you mean? I’m always nice.”

Beau snorted in amusement. “Uh-huh, that means no…”

“Wha-… Anyways,” you continued with a clear of your throat and a playful little glare at him, “Jenny and I talked to Mr. Hughes afterwards. He didn’t wanna admit that he cheated at first, but Jenny and I kinda went in on him till he fessed up.”

“Poor fella…” Beau muttered under his breath.

“Hm? What?”

“Nothin’. I said nothing.” He shook his head and gave you an innocent smile, but it didn’t stop your eyes from narrowing at him.

“Careful,” you warned and ambled over to his side of the desk. He pushed his chair back, making room for you between his thighs. “You don’t wanna defend a cheater. He got his wife killed. I have little sympathy for that.”

“Well, he’s definitely an ass for cheating, but even you gotta admit he didn’t really kill her. That’s still on the psycho running around out there,” Beau argued, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you closer to him. You involuntarily clenched when his face was in front of your crotch.

“Fine,” you conceded with a roll of your eyes, sliding your hands up his arms till they locked around his neck.

“‘Sides, I kinda get how quickly a mistake can happen, you know?” he said thoughtfully.

You arched your brow. “Do you mean me with that?”

Beau’s eyes widened, immediately shaking his head. “What, no! I mean, yeah, a little,” he stammered. Your frown deepened. “Not like that, obviously. Just remembered some stuff today… But we never cheated. I know that.”

“Do you?” you questioned rhetorically.

“I do,” he assured you and took your hands in his, kissing your knuckles in an attempt to soothe you. “Just sometimes feels like I betrayed him, you know?”

“I know. I get that. But you did nothing wrong, okay? You did not seduce me and steal me away from him, nor did you take advantage of me when I was a vulnerable and grieving widow. I’m a grown-ass woman. I make my own choices. And I chose you like you chose me. After Randy’s death and all those months in Mexico, I fell in love with you, too.”

A coy smile clawed at his lips. “Yeah?”

“Yes, you idiot,” you confirmed, your smiles matching.

He then pulled you onto his lap and claimed your lips in deep passion. You straddled his thighs and rocked against him, feeling the blooming erection in his jeans rub against your clothed cunt.

You unbuckled his belt and opened the zipper, Beau pushing down his jeans over his ass a little. Supporting one palm on his shoulder, your other hand climbed inside his boxers and grasped his dick. You thumbed his head and dribbled a few drops of spit down on his cock before moving your hand down his shaft, spreading it like lube on his velvety skin.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his head falling back against the backrest. With hooded eyes drunk with lust, one hand snaked under your shirt and pulled down the cup of your bra, palming and massaging your breast and rolling the nipple between his fingers. Your moan of pleasure was his reward as you pumped him with a tightening grip.

Both of you jerked up, however, as the door to his office suddenly flung wide open. Beau and you froze in your place, your fingers still wrapped around his cock, but luckily, neither of you was fully naked and your back hid most of the explicits. To your visitor, it just looked like an intense and very heated make-out session.

As you peeled your gaze over your shoulder, you recognized a woman in her mid-thirties who covered her eyes and quickly retreated through the door.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry. I’ll wait outside,” she excused and shut the door behind her again.

Beau gaped at you, green eyes wide in disbelief. “Y/N, did you not lock the door?”

You clasped your mouth with both hands, shaking your head with pupils as blown wide as his. “No, I thought everyone had already left when I came in here.”

“That’s the second time in three days,” he reminded you scoldingly. “Three days, Y/N! Twice!”

“I know! I’m sorry,” you whispered apologetically, still in shock, but a laugh of amusement escaped your throat. “Who was that lady?”

“I don’t know.” Beau’s brow furrowed in the same questioning manner as yours.

The two of you then sorted yourselves quickly, pulling pants back on and smoothing out shirts. You then stepped outside the office, where your female visitor was still waiting in the hallway.

“Uh, so sorry for that little, uhm…” Beau stopped mid-sentence, clueless on how to proceed and describe the scene while still sounding professional. “Anyways, how can I help you, darlin’?”

You threw him a small sideways glare at that and crossed your arms over your chest, Beau giving you one of his charming “can’t be helped” shrugs. Did he have to put so much flirt into it?

“Oh, uh, I apologize. I should’ve knocked,” the woman replied with a keen giggle, her cheeks blushing in fluster. She cleared her throat and regained her composure, introducing herself. “My name is Diane Newton. I’m the new DA for the Lewis and Clark Sheriff’s Department. I got assigned the serial killer case and wanted to look through your files on it. See what you’ve got so far.”

“Oh, uhm, sure,” Beau spluttered and swallowed the lump in his throat, his mind jumping back into work mode. Of course, it had to be the new prosecutor to find him with his pants down in his office. What a great first impression.

“Hi, uh, Sheriff Beau Arlen. Nice to meet you,” he said and reached out his hand for a shake. He then glanced at you. “This is actually Special Agent Y/N Y/L/N. She’s leading that case,” he introduced you before he nervously chuckled. “She’s, uh, my girlfriend. That’s why we, uhm… Wouldn’t want you to think that we-… I do this all the time.”

“No worries and no judgment here,” she said and waved off his concerns. “What you do after hours is completely your business.”

“Well, uhm, how about I show you the files now?” you offered and ushered her to your desk in the main room of the station.

“Oh, that’d be great!”

You threw Beau a wide-eyed look over your shoulder as you walked down the hall, mouthing “Why would you say that?” with a chiding shake of your head.

Beau only twitched his shoulders in a comical apology like a cartoon character and swiftly disappeared back into his office.

Diane stayed for two more hours before finally leaving. You went over every victim in Montana with her, not sparing any excruciating details, and told her a little about the other victims in the other states as well. By the end, you were exhausted and almost fell asleep at your desk, your head resting on the pile of files with closed eyes.

Just a few minutes…

“C’mon, let’s go home. You’re tapped out,” you heard Beau’s deep voice and soon felt his grasp around your arm, hoisting you gently to your feet.

You slung your arms around his neck and tiredly rested your head on his warm, broad chest, listening to his heartbeat underneath. He’d always been the best pillow. “Mmm, I don’t have a home here,” you murmured sleepily.

“Well, you know what they say, home is where the heart is, and I’m going back to my trailer, so…” He shrugged and grinned down at you.

“You’re such a dork,” you quipped. As you looked up at him, you bit your bottom lip. “You introduced me as your girlfriend earlier.”

He licked his smirking lips. “Well, you are my girlfriend.” His brow then creased momentarily. His insecurity was somewhat cute, you thought. “Right?”

You beamed and nodded, giggling. “Yes,” you confirmed and tiptoed up to plant a sweet kiss on his lips to seal it.

“How about before we go home, we finish what we started in my office,” he suggested cheekily and added, “I’ll even teach you how to lock a damn door.”

You snorted a small laugh and gave him another gentle kiss, this one lasting a bit longer and swinging with promise. “Alright. Teach me, Sheriff,” you agreed and smoothed your palms up his chest, smirking up at him.

“Oh, this just took a turn. Now, I know what I’m gonna do with you.” He chuckled wickedly and scooped you up in his arms, bolting down the hallway to his office as you squealed and giggled.

Chapter 5: Illicit Affairs – MAY 29

Will they ever learn? Probably not... 😆 We've had some juicy flashbacks these week... Past scenes that include Randy always make me sad 😭

More murder stuff and flashbacks next week! See ya 🫶

(Also I've been a bit slow with comments these days. It's been crazy busy life things, but I hope I can catch up with everything this weekend 🤍)

Join the TAG LIST here! 🌌 Wanna sponsor my caffeine addiction? ☕️

Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444

@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus @jessjad

@hunter-or-the-hunted @k-slla @just-levyy @mrsjenniferwinchester @illicithallways

@muhahaha303 @ultimatecin73 @nancymcl @leigh70 @brightlilith

Everything Beau Arlen: @snowayumi

Polaris Series: @corruptedcruiser

#polaris #beau arlen #beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x you

[pjohoo-reclists]

Percy Jackson & Batman Fic Recs

A rec list featuring the relationship between Percy Jackson and Batman | Bruce Wayne (DC). If possible, no Percy/Annabeth. Requested by @captainquake42. Enjoy!

For general PJO/HoO and Batman (DC) Crossovers, check out this rec list.

There is no such thing as too much family… i don’t think…? by YourFriendlyNeighbourhoodAries

Not Rated | 3.2k+ | Sept 1, 2023

Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson, Percy Jackson & Poseidon, Percy Jackson & Bruce Wayne

Misunderstandings, Protective Poseidon, Hurt Percy Jackson

Sally finds out about her two long lost brothers, The Genius, Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist Tony Stark and, Billionaire Bruce Wayne. How did she find these two billionaire brothers that she didn’t even know she had in the first place? Well, its sort of a long story but when she found one of them (guess who) standing in her living room in a metal suit is a good place to start. Or: Percy’s family just got bigger by 2… No, sorry 5… 6?

The Gods Watching Above by blackbwt

G | 4.0k+ | Last Updated May 2, 2023

Percy Jackson & Tim Drake, Tim Drake & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Percy Jackson & Bruce Wayne

Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Protective Batfamily, Tim Drake is a Demigod

"Hm, we just fought a monster...?" Percy deadpans, weirdly glancing at the anti hero before them, and turning to Tim, he whispers lowly, "Are they always slow like that?" "No shit, Sherlock!" Jason closes his eyes, trying to ignored the buzzing of an incoming migrane and sarcastically glares at the two other teens, "I'm asking why it was targeting only you two? Why wasn't it trying to kill B and me too?" "Oh shit. Well, I guess the cat is out of the bag. Fuck this, who cares, anyways?" Tim chuckles tightly, avoiding the eyes of his kinda-off-brother, "Well, I kinda am a demigod." Or: To say that Bruce and Jason are confused when in the middle of patrol, a monster pops out of nowhere to kill Tim Drake, it's an understandment. When a boy too much alike Tim comes to the rescue, they see things can get even more confused. Meanwhile Percy Jackson just wants to take his baby brother home to watch the new episode of The Last of Us together Honestly, Tim Drake just wants a break, but he is a demigod, so he should know better by now.

The Family Secret by Reed_Pebble

M | 4.4k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Bruce Wayne, Percy Jackson & Jason Todd, Percy Jackson & Dick Grayson

Family Issues, Lazarus Pit (DCU), Dead Bruce Wayne

When Bruce Wayne dies the Wayne brothers gather for the first time in years. All five in the same building. But with Jason still legally dead, one smol assassin added to the family and one member of the family still in the dark about the family secret. Antics are in order.

I Am Retired by Geek_of_all_things

G | 32k+ | Last Updated Nov 15, 2023

Percy Jackson & Bruce Wayne, Percy Jackson & Jason Todd, Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Powerful Percy Jackson, Surprise Uncle Bruce Wayne, Protective Batfamily (DCU)

Percy is tired. He has fought in two wars and battled in numerous quests. He is done being a pawn for the gods to use. Now finished with high school, the next step for Percy is college. Where else better to get away from the gods than Gotham University, located in a city where the humans are so crazy that no monsters enter. It will be a paradise for Percy. A place for him to relax in his retirement while attending college. It is a shame that Percy cannot seem to catch a break. As he navigates a new ‘normal’ life in Gotham, he soon learns about an unknown Uncle. One that has an affinity for bats. Looks like Percy’s family and world just got bigger.

It's Only Fair by lothaleris 

T | 70k+ | Last Updated Feb 4, 2023

Percy Jackson & Bruce Wayne, Percy Jackson & Jason Todd, Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Percy Jackson is a Mess, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Female Percy Jackson

Percy Jackson moves away from New York to Gotham where she finds an apartment that's cheap. She finally feels like she can breathe now that she's gotten away. One day she comes home to a little street kid trying to rob her apartment. What does she do? Feeds him obviously. Jason meets a really weird girl who is new to Crime Alley. Who the hell feeds and clothes the person robbing them? Obviously she's an idiot. So naturally, she needs someone to protect her from herself. Who better than Jason?

The Sea's Warrior by PokemonDestiny (Chaotic_Gremlin)

T | 82k+ | Last Updated Feb 20, 2023

Percy Jackson/Kaldur'ahm, Percy & Poseidon, Percy Jackson & Bruce Wayne, Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase <- only in the first chapter

Female Percy Jackson, Bruce Wayne is Percy's Uncle, Depressed Percy Jackson

Percy has faced down the horrors of war and the mythological world. Now dealing with the aftermath of the final battle, she's sent to live with a relative. One who has nonconventional hobbies such as crime fighting and vigilante justice. You know, just a normal thing in Percy's life.

#percy jackson #pjo #batman #bruce wayne #rrverse #rec list #hoo #dc universe #percy & batman #percy & bruce #crossover rec list #poseidon #jason todd #annabeth chase #dick grayson #tim drake #sally jackson #pjo fanfics #batman fanfics #batfamily #batfam

[lavampira]

book recommendations

tysm @winedark and @rosenfey for the tag <:

passing it along to @hythlodaes @scionshtola @coldshrugs @likeabirdinflight @lesbianalicent @veeples @narrativefoiltrope @kirnet @disequilibria @jennystahl @elvves @queenofthieves @weird-ecologies @erielake @verbose-vespertine @solarisrenbeth @onceinabluemoony @queerbrujas @oldblood but ofc no pressure!!

1. the last book I read:

GOTH WESTERN by LIVALI WYLE — well. technically, it’s an indie graphic novel. but it’s a western meets magical realism about necromancy, revenge, and the power of love. and lesbians. I burned through it in a couple hours sitting because I was so gripped by it tbh.

2. a book I recommend:

THE HACIENDA by ISABEL CAÑAS — an absolute all time fave book in my heart; I would say one doesn’t even need to necessarily love horror to get invested in this one, since it also involves very interesting critique of spanish colonialism, religion, and class struggles in post-independence mexico only using hauntings as the lens to view it.

3. a book that I couldn’t put down:

THE PRIORY OF THE ORANGE TREE by SAMANTHA SHANNON — I was glued to this book for a solid two weeks despite its length. I have a lot that I would change about the pacing and certain events or qualities of some characters’ outcomes, but it was such a fun fantasy read, and I had a difficult time even moving on from the setting and protagonists once I was done.

4. a book I’ve read twice (or more):

THE SONG OF ACHILLES by MADELINE MILLER — my first time reading this myth retelling was my freshman year of college, so I reread it again ten years later to see if it would still hold up for how much I loved it, and it absolutely did. the perspective of the man standing beside and in love with the hero interwoven with the tragedy of achilles and patroclus takes me right out and the passages that tumblr enjoys to quote from it have so much more impact in the full context of the narrative.

5. a book on my TBR:

OUR WIVES UNDER THE SEA by JULIA ARMFIELD — this poor book keeps getting knocked down on my TBR but I’m determined to read it this year. I’m intrigued by the horror of the protagonist’s wife ‘coming back wrong’ in a sense, and the recommendations based on its similarity to ANNIHILATION, but also the fact it seems to be a wlw scifi horror, too.

6. a book I’ve put down:

AFFINITY by SARAH WATERS — I wanted to like this one so bad, considering how often waters has been hyped up to me as The Author for historical lesbian novels and the fact it delves into victorian spiritualism, but the pacing felt so slow at getting to the point in the plot, and when it finally did, the twist put me off on finishing the end. it’s probably more of a case of ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ but I def had to DNF it.

7. a book on my wishlist:

GHOST STATION by S.A. BARNES — space horror quickly became a fave niche genre that I got into last year, so I’ve been very excited for this release, too. I’m also a fan of how barnes writes atmospheric dread and I have high expectations for it.

8. a favorite book from my childhood:

WUTHERING HEIGHTS by EMILY BRONTË — it altered my brain chemistry as a teenager in high school and I haven’t been the same since I read it. I distinctly remember listening to ‘you said I killed you — haunt me then!’ read aloud and having to pretend like it didn’t make me feel so completely unhinged in the middle of class.

9. a book you would give to a friend:

PIRANESI by SUSANNA CLARKE — I was recommended this one by a friend to begin with, so it feels like an even more perfect book to pass forward. I think it’s one of those books that’s easy to get absorbed into even if it’s not a typical genre one would read, and it’s such a life-altering experience to go through with the protagonist, too. the underlying message that we’re all changed by our own trials and we’re never the same as we were before lingers with me.

10. a book of poetry or lyrics you own:

CRUSH by RICHARD SIKEN — it’s taken me so long to finally track down a physical copy at my bookstore but it was worth it because it remains my fave book of poetry to date. I could quote so many lines, after how hard they’ve hit me, and some of them have influenced my own writing or pairings in some ways.

11. a nonfiction book you own:

HAVANA NOCTURNE by T.J. ENGLISH — back in 2015-2016ish I went through a true crime phase in the prohibition era through the foundation of the US mafia, and this is a very informative book on how the mob became tied to cuba and how the revolution affected it.

12. what are you currently reading:

AN EDUCATION IN MALICE by S.T. GIBSON — I stumbled across this retelling of carmilla set in a late 60s massachusetts women’s college after reading gibson’s A DOWRY OF BLOOD and had to give it a try. I’m enjoying it so far; the prose is full of thick emotional yearning and electric chemistry, and the balance in the narrative of toxic mentorship, historical romantic and sensual attraction between women without shaming them for it, and vampiric elements is really fun.

13. what are you planning on reading next:

WHAT FEASTS AT NIGHT by T. KINGFISHER — I only found out the other day that the sequel to WHAT MOVES THE DEAD was even released but I’m so desperate for the next part of alex easton’s story (and how eerily kingfisher writes horror) that it shot up to my next read.

#childhood is a stretch but i only read like. where the red fern grows. as an actual smaller child #and honestly? who let me do that? i sobbed for weeks i can’t consider it a fave after how bad it shattered little dani’s soul #dani.txt #tag game

[flufallo]

Some random, out of context lines from only the best show in the world

"YOU are the brawn?"

"If she'd died last night, I'd have no problem with her being here!" "Well that got dark"

"We've met phychics before, but none as fit as you" "HAH. Did that work on girls back in the 80s?"

"Are you ready to talk to her shoes?"

"And those girls are staring..." "Mabye it's your outfit" *middle finger*

"I don't care how old you are. Go to bed"

"Well, I'm very open minded and also very concerned about bursting open" "honestly I just find her so charming"

"Are you insane?"

"so I'm a... Tree?"

"Cute? Thats offensive"

"It smells like dog shit in there"

"I'll make sure to jot that down in my journal of opinions I DO NOT GIVE A DAMN ABOUT"

"Luckily, love requires no logic"

"MONTY! JESUS! I'm tryna... Threaten some kids"

"Are you ready to talk to her shoes?"

"Fuck off, the kid had a sardine"

"E-yup"

"she's always... Changing outfits"

"Are you being threatening or is this a sexy choking?"

"weeee!"

"In my experience, uptight boys like a bit of rough play" "... Right" (my poor innocent Edwin has no idea what that means)

"Hello, um, cute little friend with the bow tie"

"Teethface, what the fuck?"

"I'm just a really old man who lives in a fish"

"Specificity is key"

*Girls react sword death* "was that good? Were you scared?" "Pff, no. The sword would of punctured the lung, leaving her *gasping noises* unable to scream. Not to mention the sheer amount of blood filling her mouth. Very disappointing girls"

"You guys are like a dead married couple on acid"

"Is that my left or your left?" "We have the same left!"

"No, it is the blue book on the top left corner" *picks up pink book* "does that look blue to you, Charles?"(Colour blind Charles yaas)

"Well, that's harsh. But also charmingly stubborn. Capricorn?"

"Were not living anywhere, because your not living"

"This detective work is much measure than it ever looked on scooby doo"

"Two boys can like like each other, you know. I have a lot of manga about it. It's very sweet, and explicit"

"Again, a handshake would suffice"

"Yes, your highness"

"What is a hand job?"

"Well have to investigate further into this Molly character"

"At least one of you is in school, right?"

"You've been spending a lot of time with that one... Monty... You... A lot of time?" "Hmm? Merely swapping books is all"

"Oh my fucking fuck"

"I thought you were like a meat robber or a meat pervert or something"

"If you need anything, just shout. But don't actually shout. It's a library"

"Are you always a woman, is Charles ever a woman, can you change your eyes and nose like Mr potato head, do you know who mr potato head is?"

"Your such a whore"

"You don't look like a walrus"

"this looks like the places in those fish stick commercials I like"

"Charles, be less British. Edwin, be less Edwin"

"oh no, it's porn. It's all just porn"

"there are 142 cats" "142? That's way off!" (It's four off)

"and when he gets back from hell, I'll be waiting. God, I am such a romantic I hate it!"

"do you and Charles.. um... Have a special friendship?" "We are best friends, if you must know." (Keep him innocent guys)

"have you seen a Victrola anywhere?" "What?"

"oh, I think I'm gonna be sick!" "You are a ghost, Charles. You cannot get sick"

"well, maybe karma's just a bitch"

"I heard they died in some gay suicide pact"

"I have never wanted to get back inside someone more" (out of context this one just sounds so wrong lmao)

"are you saying my ghost friend isn't going to die? Super, thanks."

#i found a lot #dead boy detectives #this csn also be used as a way to pursuade people to watch dbd #seeing as its soooo convincing #dbda

[riddles-n-games]

Can you please make absolutely soul crushing Jameson Avery angsty hcs? Thanks

Okay, you asked for this. If you aren't ready, I was even less.

Jameson held Avery's hand often when he visited her after the plane accident. There were times where the dark intrusive doubtful thoughts got really bad, taunting him that she wouldn't wake up, her condition would get worse, that she would die in the end. Holding her hand was one of the only things that grounded him in those moments.

One time, in the middle of the night, after the fight with Gray, he start literally getting a panic attack and actually cries, thinking something happened to her after he woke up.

Sometimes he would lean over her to press his ear against her chest to hear her heartbeat because he wasn't convinced that the sounds he was hearing coming from the machine were real.

Some months after they get together, Avery tells Jameson what truly happened during the encounter with Sheffield as even though she did tell him a lot after the coin toss, sealing their relationship, she wasn't quite ready to process the trauma aloud yet.

Jameson gets very angry at the news and gets fiercely protective of her which shocks Avery. It affects him so deeply that several nights, he can't sleep at all; nightmares are catching him, setting in a new bout of insomnia for a while but he can't bring himself to leave bed so he just holds her tight.

He helps her start self-defense classes and practices with her every day, teaching her different martial arts and kickboxing techniques. It helps keep him calm and to redirect his thoughts to something productive, knowing he's proactively helping his girl.

During the final months of Jameson's senior year, he and Avery spend more time together at school, however rumors arise. A lot of them turn the tables against him; that he's dating her to get his family's money back, because he wants to tap that, a last hoorah before he leaves for his gap year, that he's going to use her to get into a prestigious college even though he's basically done nothing to become acclaimed for himself, and so the list goes on. But the worst one is that he's going to get her killed because his last girlfriend did. That one actually penetrates.

Avery notices that he's been more quiet than usual despite his attempts to remain unaffected. At first, he's reluctant to talk about it but after a while he asks her if she truly believes that he's going to get her killed.

She is shocked by this as she truly thought he was handling the rumors and accusations pretty well and they weren't bothering him. Then, she vehemently says that she doesn't believe it for a single second and reminds him that if she truly had those kinds of doubts, she would have never been with him in the first place. And her honesty helps him cope.

This gives Avery a rare glimpse into his vulnerability regarding such topics and appreciates his rawness to just admit it especially after holding it in for a while.

Post graduation and into the start of the summer, the anniversary of Hannah's death is coming up. Avery is as a result getting a bit restless and anxious about it. She closes up and Jameson knows something is up. He tries giving her space but realizes she seems even more down and goes to Libby for comfort instead. So, Jameson decides to ask her sister what's happening and Libby explains.

He decides to tell Avery he knows what's coming up, why she's like this and that if and only if she wants to, that she can talk to him if she pleases. Avery nods and for a few days, she continues being withdrawn but then she talks about the struggles, the late nights, her ear pressed up against the door when the doctor was talking to her mother, the failed chemo, the fact it was a late stage tumor. Everything. And halfway through, Avery breaks down sobbing. She is inconsolable.

Jameson can hear her soul weeping. He knows that she hasn't likely truly processed the grief in so long and this is her truly letting herself be open with him and herself. After this encounter, Jameson comes up with their code Tahiti and it was first it was more so used during really bad quiet periods for each one but then they became better at using it when they know the other is likely too emotionally constipated.

Hope this suffices in soul crushing? 😵‍💫

#avery kylie grambs #avery grambs #a very risky gamble #jameson winchester hawthorne #jameson hawthorne #averyjameson #hawthorne headcanons #tig headcanons #tig asks and requests #tig inbox #the inheritance games #the hawthorne legacy #the final gambit #the brothers hawthorne #tig #thl #tfg #tbh #tig headquarters #TIG HQ

[chroniccoolness]

I find it interesting that a lot of gendered expectations are framed (at least in my experience) as just. "logical" or obvious. often you don't need to be directly and straightforwardly told that something is Wrong For Your Gender (though you absolutely can be ofc), it's just... the norm. Examples include:

1. I was allowed to wear leggings/pants from a young age. BUT,

1a) an Event meant a dress. There was a lot of jokes about how i hated dresses, but it was still unquestioned for the first 13 years of my life--piano recital, family reunion, wedding, theater? We go straight to the dress section. I was allowed to eventually wear a vest and pants to my middle school graduation, but i had to make a fuss abt it, because the assumption was "woman, formal space, dress".

1b) pants always came from the women's section. If I asked for men's, up until the last year, I got the response "those aren't right for your body". by "right" my mother meant that sure, they'd get on my body, but they wouldn't accentuate it properly at the hips or waist, and this makes them Wrong For Me.

2. Every woman I know in real life, bar two (one transfem, one nonbinary*), has hair shoulder length or longer. When I asked to cut my ribcage-length hair short, I got a "compromise" of shoulder length for 6 months. When I got to cut it *shorter*, my mom helped me make a pinterest board... with the keywords "short women's hair", "women's pixie cuts", and at most, "gender neutral hairstyles". When I said I wanted SHORT hair, the response from cis women I got was always "oh, like a cute pixie?" No, Sharon, like a dyke. And that's what I got called when I did it--specifically, a kid in the grade above me asked another kid if I was trying to be "a dyke or a tranny". All I did was cut my hair.

[*their words, to be clear! they identify as a nonbinary woman + i respect both aspects.]

3. Around age 11/12, my mom started asking me if I wanted her to teach me how to shave my legs. When i said no, I got an "Are you sure?" and once, "it's almost summer". This happened 3 times. She stopped after she realized the answer would say no, but always seemed bewildered, because shaving is just a Thing Women Do.

4. I have been told that if I have a baby, hormones will force me to love it, because that's just how it is. I wish I was kidding. Additionally, every time I bring up that I don't want to have kids, i get a horde of middle aged women telling me "I thought that when i was a young girl!". The gender role is "perceived woman? HAVE BABY" and if I voice a lack of desire for that, I am told I'm simply young, immature, and can't know myself. this continues even now that I am out as a trans guy.

these aren't me being directly forced not to do anything---instead, I'm free to do/not do the Thing, social stigma just attempts to tell me I'm wrong or strange for my choice. A lot of the people who've said/done these things identify as feminists--my mom and every woman who's done point 4 are. "default" gender expectations are everywhere and people have to actively think about and dismantle them.

#my post #not gonna tag anythinf really bc i dont want this to end up wiht a Certain Transphobic Tumblr Group but feel free to share

[dont-leafmealone]

What is UP? brand new Kazula/Azutara oneshot! G, no warnings except extreme pettiness <3 read on ao3 using the link above or under the cut below!

"Look, Katara, I'm just saying you could give it a chance."

Katara rolled her eyes, shifting her phone to her shoulder while she checked the price on a box of instant noodles and compared it to the quantity. "Jet, the last time you set me up with one of your exes, I ended up with food poisoning."

"Not my fault Jin can't make an omelet. She's good at everything that matters."

Katara wrinkled her nose. Not at Jet's crude implication — though that was a factor — but because it was nearly six dollars for two servings of noodles. She put the box back on the shelf. "Well, I'm not interested in a repeat of the incident."

"For the record, this one's not my ex. She's a friend from work, new to the area, and she's had a little trouble connecting with people. I think you'll like her." 

Katara let Jet dwell on her skeptical silence. After a moment, he said, "She's also my ex's sister."

"There it is." She rolled her eyes and looked over her grocery list. "I'll think about it, alright?"

"Alright, cool. 'Ru's gonna be home in a little bit, I oughta get started on dinner."

"Bye, say hi to Haru for me."

"Will do, sweetheart. Catch ya later."

She hung up the phone and started to push her shopping cart out of the aisle. As she rounded the corner, she nearly collided with a woman aggressively texting. Katara gasped and pulled the cart up short, and the woman looked up, glaring at her. 

"Watch it," she snapped, brushing her silky hair behind her ear with a manicured hand. "You very nearly ran me over."

Katara bristled. "Get your nose out of your phone. It's a crowded store."

The woman scowled. She pushed past Katara's cart, knocking it into the neighboring shelf. Boxes fell to the floor, and Katara tamped down a growl of frustration. 

What a bitch, she thought, putting the boxes back on the shelf. 

She wheeled her cart to the next aisle, the unpleasant interaction soon nearly forgotten as she compared prices on canned soups.

"Hey, Sokka?" 

"Yeah?" Sokka poked his head into the kitchen, raising his safety glasses. He set down the power drill he was using to re-hinge the door, since the landlord had yet to return any of the calls on the subject, the prick. 

"Which one of Jet's exes had a sister?" Katara asked, nose buried in a cookbook as she stirred a pan of sauce on the stove. Sokka frowned.

"Not another one of his blind dates," he said. 

"Double date this time," Katara confirmed without looking up, pursing her lips. "Him and Haru, with me and Mystery Girl."

Sokka frowned, thinking.  "I think Ty Lee had a few sisters," he said, pulling off his work gloves to examine the blister forming on his thumb. "And...Zuko has a half-sister, but she's in middle school."

"Huh." Katara put down the cookbook, rooting through a drawer. "I guess we'll find out."

Sokka shook his head. He didn't get at all why Katara kept trying — there were, in his opinion, better ways to meet people than through Jet. But did little sisters ever listen? 

No, he thought, pulling his gloves back on and adjusting his glasses. No, they do not.

"​​What do you think?"

"It's nice," Zuko said, not looking up from his phone. Azula scowled, crossing her arms in a way that wouldn't wrinkle the dress.

"You didn't even look."

Zuko glanced up. "It's a little dressy."

Azula frowned, looking down at her clothes; she'd picked an elegant, but understated, calf-length dress in a flattering burgundy, on the less flashy side of her wardrobe. It was even one she had worn in public before. "What do you mean?" 

"You look like you're going to an office meeting. Tone it down." 

"I'm meant to be making a first impression," she said. 

"It's Jet's ex. He's not really known for batting out of his league."

"What does that say about you?" she retorted, earning a middle finger raised in her direction. 

"I think you look nice," Kiyi piped up, taking off her headphones. 

"Great. Now I have to change." 

Kiyi stuck her tongue out, putting the headphones back on. Azula rolled her eyes; her siblings could be so immature. 

"Try that one with the blue on it," Zuko said. "Jet said the girl likes blue."

"That one with the blue on it," Azula quoted. "That narrows it down marvelously."

"The one that doesn't make you look like you're running for Congress," he added. 

She rolled her eyes, striding to her room. Her closet door stood ajar, her other options on display — moving into Mother's house had drastically limited her storage space, forcing her to downsize her wardrobe. She easily found the dress Zuko had referred to, a shorter, much more casual red dress with electric blue beading and embroidery around the neck and hemline. 

Azula hung the dress on the closet door, surveying her current outfit in the full-length mirror. Loath as she was to admit it, Zuko had a point. She did look somewhat political for a first date. Sighing, she picked out the heels that went with the red dress and set them at the end of her bed. 

This had better be worth the trouble, she thought as she changed into her pajamas. 

"Where is this place you're heading to?" Sokka asked as he dug through his backpack for Katara's bus pass. She took her eyes off the mirror for a second to check her phone. 

"The Thai place up the road, you know the one where you and Suki went on your anniversary?"

"Seems pricy for a blind date," Sokka said skeptically. Katara shrugged, checking that her mascara was dry. 

"Jet said he knows a guy."

"I do not trust that man any further than I could throw him," Sokka said. "Here's your bus pass," he added, putting it down on the table in front of her.

"Thanks, Sokka." Katara yanked on her brother's ponytail as he walked past, earning a startled yelp and a glare. 

"Go meet your stupid date," he grumbled, pulling her in for a hug. 

As the bus pulled up to the stop and Katara stepped off, her phone buzzed, a text coming in from Haru's number. 

- hey. not gonna make it tonight. flat tire. 

Katara frowned. As far as she knew, Jet didn't even have a car, and took the bus, like her. And Haru biked wherever he went. Something was fishy about this.

You guys don't even have a car. -

​​​​​​- all the buses. flat tires on all of them. sorry </3

Katara ground her teeth. Haru did not send analog emojis. Nor would he lie in such an obvious way just to get on her nerves.

Jet, give Haru's phone back to him. -

And cut the bullcrap. -

- Sorry, katara. Jet's sick and he refuses to admit it but we're pretty sure going out is a no-go tonight, sorry.  - You should go ahead though, let us know how your date goes. 

Katara bit her lip, stifling a groan of frustration. Half the reason she had agreed to the date was the expectation of having Jet and Haru there as a buffer. But at the same time, she knew it'd be totally rude to cancel just because they wouldn't be there. It occurred to her that she didn't have Mystery Girl's number, meaning she couldn't cancel even if she wanted to, except by standing her up — which was so not an option.

Great. Guess we're doing this. 

She squared her shoulders and marched up to the Thai restaurant. 

The reserved table for four was in the back of the restaurant, on a balcony overlooking the street below. It was a pretty view, lots of neon lights and window decor, if you could get past the light pollution. 

Katara had been sitting alone for the better part of ten minutes, sipping water and waiting for her date to show up, and was beginning to wonder if she had been stood up — Mystery Girl had to have gotten a text from Jet too. What if she'd decided not to risk meeting Katara without that buffer?

Katara was starting to consider cutting her losses and eating alone when the hostess approached the table, followed by a short, dark-haired young woman that Katara thought she recognized.

It wasn't until the woman had sat down, brushing her hair behind her ear with delicate, manicured nails that Katara realized why. 

"You," she said, at the same time the woman looked up and hissed, "You."

All Katara could think was that Jet was one twisted bastard. 

Azula couldn't believe Jet had set her up with this — this woman. It had to be a sick practical joke, right? Some stupid way of getting back at her for something. He'd orchestrated this simply because he knew it would piss her off, and —

Azula stopped. No, she told herself, cutting off that paranoid train of thought before it could derail. There is absolutely no way he could know about that. You're not under 24/7 surveillance, and especially not by Jet. You could kill him with a pinky nail. 

She took deep breaths, running through these affirmations until she had managed to clear her head. 

"This was obviously a mistake," Azula said, picking up her handbag as she stood.

"Obviously," the other woman said, an irritated edge to her voice. "I'm supposed to be meeting a date here."

"As am I." ​​​​​Azula looked the woman up and down; far from her more slovenly appearance in the grocery store earlier in the week, Azula had to admit she looked quite elegant, her midnight blue off-shoulder dress complementing her brown skin. She shook off the momentary distraction. "Clearly one of us was given the wrong table."

"Well, it wasn't me," the woman said testily. 

"You're dining alone at a table for four," Azula pointed out. 

"It was a double date, but — never mind, I don't have to explain to you," the woman said, pinching the bridge of her nose. Meanwhile, dread settled in Azula's stomach. She closed her eyes, sighing. 

"Is there any chance this was a blind date, organized by a certain Jet Andal?" she asked, hoping she was wrong. The woman's eyes widened. 

"You're kidding." 

"I'm afraid I'm not," Azula said. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, though."

The woman's gaze darkened. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Jet isn't particularly choosy about the company he keeps," Azula said. 

The woman stood up, scowling. "Obviously not," she snapped, picking up the purse and jacket that were hung over her seat.

She stormed off, the doors of the restaurant swinging shut behind her.

Azula scoffed and sat back down, picking up the menu the woman had left. She was going to kill Jet, but first she was going to at least get a meal out of this. 

It had been nearly an hour since Katara had left the restaurant, teary-eyed. Despite her skepticism, she had really hoped this date would work out; that hope went out the window, though, and she had comforted herself with dinner from the Mexican grill on the corner. Now, Katara's bus was delayed, and it was about to start raining. She huddled under the bus stop awning, watching the road. 

Somebody joined her on the bench. She looked up, and scowled. 

"What do you want?"

"I informed Jet that the arrangement went awry," the woman said, in a somewhat clipped tone. "He informed me that I was being rude and petty, and that I should apologize. Apparently you're a nice person, or something."

She looked down at her lap, picking at her nails, and it was then that Katara realized she was embarrassed. 

"So. I'm sorry," she went on. "I hope your next date goes better."

Katara swallowed. "Thanks," she managed to say. "I hope yours does, too."

There was a peal of thunder, and the forecasted rain began pouring down. 

The woman turned to Katara, offering her hand. "I'm Azula, by the way."

Katara looked up, shaking her hand after a moment. "Katara."

"Oh. Jet's ex with the brother." Azula's expression softened, and she nodded. "It's nice to meet you. I wish it had been under better circumstances."

"Yeah, you too."

The bus finally rolled up to the stop. Katara sighed and picked up her purse.

"Wait."

She turned back to Azula, who had her phone out of her purse. "If it's alright with you, I'd like to exchange numbers," Azula said. "You don't have to, but...well, I've had trouble getting to know people in the city. And I've only heard high praise from our mutual acquaintances."

Katara hesitated. A minute ago, she would have flat-out refused, but...

"I've been rude and petty too," Katara said. "I'm sorry. I'd be happy to get to know you better."

She took Azula's phone and entered her number, allowing Azula to enter her contact into Katara's phone.

"Azula Huo?" she asked when she took her phone back. "Are you related to Zuko?"

Azula gave a theatrically put-upon sigh, tucking her hair behind her ear. "By some insane luck on his part. I'm his sister."

"I didn't know he had another sister," Katara said.

Azula's eyes seemed to sadden a little, though her cool smile didn't waver. "Our family's complicated. I'm sure you've heard enough about it from him."

Katara really hadn't; Zuko wasn't forthcoming about a lot when it came to his family, except for bits and pieces, but it seemed like Azula didn't want to get into it, so Katara nodded and left it at that.

"Well, I won't keep you any longer," Azula said. "Enjoy the rest of your night."

"You too," Katara said, waving as she climbed on the bus.

She arrived home to silence, the lights already out in Sokka's room down the hall. She quietly toed off her shoes, creeping up to her bedroom.

Moments after she put her phone on the charger, there was a buzz as she received a text from Jet.

- did azula apologize? I told her she was being a petty bitch, but she never listens to me

Katara rolled her eyes and texted back.

Yes, she apologized. I did too. -

- any chance you'll agree to a double date next week then? - I might have already told azula you were going. she might have already agreed ;) - you must've made a real impression

Katara fought off a furious blush. The nerve he had.

I'd be happy to. - As long as you don't cancel last minute again! -

- like i'd miss that.

Azula took a deep breath, pausing to check in the window that her outfit was still in place before entering the restaurant. It was several thousand dollars below the price range she was accustomed to, but it was a change she would have to adapt to in her new life.

She followed the hostess to the table in the back. Haru and Jet were already seated across from one another — tragically underdressed for the venue — and looking so disgustingly in love that Azula briefly considered leaving. She instead slid into a seat beside Haru, picking up a menu.

"Has Katara not arrived yet?"

Jet looked up. "She said she'd be late. Buses are running slow tonight."

Azula nodded shortly, trying to hide her disappointment and worry — what if Katara had decided not to show up at all? She had been pleasant enough during their last text exchange, but what if Azula had said something off-putting, and Katara was too polite to point it out, so she instead decided to blow off the date and make an excuse, and it was all —

"Hi! Sorry I'm late, the bus got held up."

Azula looked up as Katara sat across from her, tossing her brown waves over her shoulder.

"You're just in time," she said, relief coursing through her. Take that, paranoia. Not everything is a catastrophe. "I only just got here."

"I'm glad I didn't keep you waiting too long, then." Katara smiled, and Azula was a little ashamed at how quick the butterflies took flight in her stomach.

"Shall we order drinks?" she suggested, louder than she meant, glaring when Jet smirked.

"Good idea," Katara agreed quickly, opening her menu with a smile.

#kazula #azutara #azula x katara #atla #katara #azula #jet #sokka #haru #fire siblings #water siblings #oneshot #my writing #ao3