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princessmaybank · 2 months

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Truth or Dare

Pairings: BestFriend!JJ x BestFriend!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Jealous JJ, stripping, fingering, squirting, etc.

Summary: They play t or d.

Authors Note: I didn't mean to post this so soon, but since it's out already I hope you like it, I'm just stopping it here, if you like it let me know if you want a part 2 :(.

"Truth or Dare?" John B asks darting his eyes to Cleo. "Oh come on man! You should already know the answer!" He smirked and nodded. You were at the chateau in the hot tub that JJ so graciously purchased for you all a few months back. Everyone was slugging down beers and having a big night of fun.

"I dare you to read the last text message you sent out loud." JB said shrugging, showing us that's all he has prepared. "oh man, too easy!" Cleo flung her arms upwards then reached for her phone. After she got to her messages she cleared her throat. " 'What we gonna do tonight?' I sent that to Sarah man." John B rolled his eyes in defeat, secretly hoping she had sent a naughty message to Pope or something.

"Okay Y/N, truth or dare?" She moved on quickly. "Dare of course." You responded, causing JJ to look at you with a slight smile. You and JJ are best friends, and always have been. Of course everyone in that hot tub was your best friend, but JJ was different, you could talk about literally anything for hours on end. He's always been there for you.

"I dare you to prank call Rafe Cameron. Pretend to want him and need him." Cleo ended with a smirk pointing to your phone. You didn't mind the dare but a certain blonde about a foot behind you definitely cared. He wasn't good at hiding his emotions, everything he wanted to say was already written on his face. "I don't think that's a good idea Y/N." You hear JJ say with a stern voice from behind you. "Oh calm your tits Jayj, what's the worst that could happen? I get a boyfriend?" You responded making all the girls giggle.

"It's ringing!" Kiara said out loud so everyone knew what was going on. Kiara was very close to the phone with you but it was pressed against your ear. "Hey Rafe!" You said a little too enthusiastic for JJ's liking. "Hey, Y/N. What do I owe this pleasant surprise?" He asked, gratefully. "Well I really wanted to tell you that I think of you a lot Rafe. It's getting to be too much now. I can't shake the feeling of needing to be with you." Everyone was giggling at that moment, other than one person, I'm sure you could guess who. Your eyes caught JJ's as he rolled them and crossed his arms. You could see how this was affecting him, so why not play some more. "Wow, I've been wai-" You cut Rafe's sentence short. "Rafe, mmmmm I need you so bad right now. Ohhhh." You pretend to moan into the phone. "Oh baby, are you touching yourself to me?" He asked clearly turned on. Kiara gagged and walked a few feet away. "Oh yes I am, but I wish it was you..." You paused for dramatic effect.

"Daddy." You smirked holding back a giggle, hearing Rafe groan into the phone. Next thing you know JJ is standing in front of you hanging up the call, fuming. He was legitimately tomato red. Everyone watched, curious about what he was going to do.

He grabbed your waist pulling you as close as he could while looking into your eyes. "Don't you ever pull that shit again." His eyes never left yours. You wanted to stand up for yourself but the only thing that left your mouth was "o-okay." He leaned down to whisper in your ear. "Good girl." There was that feeling of butterflies in your stomach. JJ never made you feel this way. What was happening? "When this little party is over you're coming to my room, we have things to talk about." He whispered again.

Everyone sat back down choosing to ignore how JJ nearly killed/fucked you right then and there. You chose to ignore it as well even though the tingling between your legs is making it difficult.

Instead of you asking the next question Pope cut the tension and began after Sarah. "Truth or dare?" He asked. Sarah obviously chose the safe route at this moment. "Is it true that even though you and JB are married, you'll still have a huge wedding and legally do it?" Pope asked. Awe of course he would, it's Pope. Sarah nodded "Of course I still want my dream wedding! Don't be silly Pope." She giggled.

"Okay J- Kiara, yeah Kiara. Truth or dare?" No one could look at JJ right now how would they be able to play this game right now?

"I'll say, truth." She smiled lightly. "Ok here's a little would you rather. Would you rather, fuck Topper or Kelce?" Kiara gasped. "Ew, can I kill myself instead?" She gagged. Everyone laughed and accepted that as her answer.

Eventually someone asked JJ the question and he ended up chugging some beer upside down. You still couldn't get those low-flying butterflies to go away. The thought of JJ taking you right there was fogging your brain.

After about an hour longer everyone was headed home or to bed. Pope and Cleo went back to the Heywards and Kiara went back to her house. Sarah decided to stay at the chateau with John B, then of course JJ asked you to go to his room and talk with him.

You sat on JJ's bed after getting your shower, you waited for him to finish up in the shower. JJ left some of his clothes on his bed for you to change into.

Next thing you knew, you were under JJ, making out with him on his bed. You had no idea how you got here but you weren't going to complain.

JJ pulled you onto his lap, never disconnecting your lips from each other. He held onto your hips and pressed down as he grinded up. You moved your hips at a faster pace needing the friction. He tore his lips from yours taking a breath before speaking. "Truth or dare?" He asked as you rolled your eyes. JJ gave you a look that said 'just answer it'. So you did. "Dare." You said with confidence streaming through your veins. JJ rubbed your hips, slowly reaching for your butt to squeeze.

"Strip for me baby." He said as he squeezed. You blushed not knowing how to react. "Come on baby, let me see that gorgeous body you've got hiding under my baggy clothes." When JJ said that, you began to melt. You decided to just take your shirt off while on his lap. You weren't wearing a bra so he got quite the show very quickly. You got off of him as he pushed himself to sit on the edge of his bed. The idea to strip tease JJ came to your mind so that's exactly what you did.

At some point when you were completely naked, you wanted to tease him so you sat on his lap and pulled one of his hands forward to your aching hole. You teased yourself with his fingers, secretly wanting him to continue what you had started. Which he had no problem with doing. He pushed two fingers inside of you causing a gasp and moan mix, to fall from your lips.

JJ's hand raced to cover your mouth. "Shhhh you have to be quiet, baby, or we'll get caught." He whispered in your ear. You nodded and bit your lip as JJ moved his fingers back and forth in your tight hole. JJ was making you so wet, your pussy was so loud that you might just get caught by being fingered. "Tell your pussy to be quiet." He giggled in your ear. "Tell your fingers to stop making me feel so good then." You moaned leaning your head back onto his shoulder.

JJ smirked to himself, knowing he was doing a good job. He sped up trying to make you cum but you suddenly felt embarrassed. "JJ- this f-eels so g-good..but I think I have to go..to the bathroom-" That was music to JJ's ears. His movements only got faster, he moved your hand to your clit so you could help by rubbing yourself.

"JJ- I-I" A loud squeal started erupting from your mouth. JJ slapped his hand across your mouth. One more swift push into your pussy and he pulled out, a gush of fluid came rushing out. You kept moaning into his hand. He continued playing with your cunt until you were done squirting.

"Something tells me you've never done that before baby."

#outer banks #jj maybank #obx fic #rudy pankow smut #rudy pankow x reader #obx x reader #outer banks smut #jj maybank smut #jj maybank imagine #smut prompts

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triple-asstro · 2 years

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hey @jasontoddisbest, i did it. hope you enjoy <3

'Lol ik this isn't supposed to be an insert reader post but IMAGINE rise!donnie's s/o walking up to her all protective of rise!donnie and ALSO simultaneously shutting her. ass. down.'

thanks to @primussavethesemechs for starting the og idea <3

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

Today wasn’t really a great day. You were at the bus stop again, the rain completely pouring onto the glass panel above you and onto your hair and clothes, annoyingly waiting for your friend, April. But it wasn’t the April O’Neil that you knew for most of your life that wore burgundy buns and cropped green varsity jacket along with a black choker. It was the other April O’Neil that had shoulder-length ginger hair and blue eyes that though an okay friend, would often get on your nerves with her antics and now, that girl was three hours late to pick you up from school. You would excuse a couple of minutes but three full hours? Now that immediately put you in a sour mood. Before you could get too hung up on it, you felt your phone vibrate as you pulled it out to see who was texting you.

‘♡'Tello♡: Hi dove. I was wondering why you aren’t back from school yet cause you're usually here by now, pestering me about my world-changing inventions.”

You chuckle as you typed back an answer: “yeah, I would if other April actually picked me up.”

"Are you making that up? She isn't even available?"

"nope. i had to do some extra work which only took ten or so minutes and she left to go talk to you, i think."

"well, i was a bit puzzled as to why she arrived without you because- nevermind..."

You scrunched your eyebrows together in confusion at the odd statement. Usually, when Donnie starts a sentence, he would either go on a long rant about his inventions or he'd either make a sarcastic quip but never before as he 'never minded' his sentences. At least not with you.

"wait, because what? did something happen don?"

Before you could read his text, a loud ring echoed throughout the parking lot as a bicycle rode up with a familiar rider with burgundy buns and black capri leggings along with a wool sweater the same colour as her leggings and a salmon-coloured tee.

"Apes, how did you know I was here?"

"After I realized you didn't come here with my copy-self, I knew something was up. So, I had to come for my bestie."

"Thanks. I really appreciate this." you said as you climbed onto the back of April's bicycle and drove off before glancing back at the text between you and Donnie.

"well, she seemed to be very distracted when she started to converse with me and acting very courteous towards me in particular. alternate me seemed a bit gloomy at that."

What? Excuse me? You felt absolutely fuming at this revelation as your grip tighten around April's back. You weren't mad at the fact that someone had a crush on your boyfriend, I mean who wouldn't? You were more infuriated by the fact that even though other April clearly had other Donnie completely in love with her, she was flirting with Donnie. The Donnie who was your boyfriend. The whole bicycle ride to the underground lair, you were completely filled with utter rage as you entered the sewers with April. You were absolutely going to have a talk with Other April. A very long talk.

As you both entered the lair, quickly avoiding another argument between Leo and Mikey, you cracked the door to Donnie's lab open and peered into the room. The lab was its usual fluorescent-lighted self, with Donnie's inventions strung across the table and the ginger-haired April staring at them. Taking a deep breath in, you leaned against the door with your arms crossed, preparing for a prolonged confrontation and waiting for what felt like hours, she finally stepped out.

"Hey, O'Neil. How was your day?"

"Oh, hi Y/N it was alright. Donnie started talking about his inventions again and he seemed super into it."

"The Donnie that you personally know who actually fancies you, or the Donnie with the tech-bo since you seem pretty focused on the latter..."

April's face froze and she looked back at you in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fact that you're trying to flirt with my boyfriend."

Suddenly, April's face of shock quickly turned into an expression of insult as her voice started to stutter and scratching the back of her head. "What? I don't know what you're talking about."

"April, stop repeating yourself. Look, I'm not one for confrontations but please, can you stop flirting with my boyfriend? Please."

"Are you kidding me? I was talking to the other Donnie. I swear you accuse me of the weirdest things..."

You were beyond baffled at this point. Not only was she trying to deny, deny, deny, but she was also trying to twist your words. Ain't that hilarious.

"No, actually, I'm not kidding April. It's actually hilarious to see how oblivious you are."

Your voice grew louder and louder, your anger and resentment consuming everything you said.

"The entire time that you and your friends have been here, we've all seen that gap-tooth Donnie has a thing for you. A very obvious thing for you and you know that I know you know that and yet, you still string him along making him think he has a chance while you flirt with another version of him? How do you think he feels?!"

"How do you think he feels?!?"

Silence suddenly filled the room as April's eyes widen in shock and the buzzing of the lights above was cast upon you both. At this point, the blinding rage boiled down into pure frustration as you heavily sighed and walked over to April, placing your hand firmly on her shoulder.

"I'm only going to say this once so listen up. Stop flirting with my boyfriend and stop playing with that boy's feelings. It's messed up and you know better than that."

April simply stood there before leaving through the back door in a huff as you slumped down leaning against the desk, burying your head into your knees trying to recollect your thoughts and mentally prepare for tomorrow.

"She seems disappointed. Alternate me's gonna thank you."

You darted your head to the front door which had Donnie, leaning against the doorframe with a smug grin and sipping some coffee from a worn-out mug. He still had his battle shell on but had his silky-purple hoodie wrapped around his waist.

"Oh god, did you see all of that?"

"No, I didn't see much," Donnie said, before sitting down next to you. "Except when you completely chewed out Other April and yelled at her."

You heavily sighed, trying to possibly push your face further into your hands. "Great. Just great. I know I was being a bit overprotective and it was only because I thought you liked-"

"Wait, you think I liked her?"

"I-maybe, I know it was stupid to think that but, I actually thought that she would take you away and..."

"And? And what?"

"And I would lose you to her and it will be the biggest regret and hurt I've felt in my life. It's just today's been the worst day ever and she even forgot about me which just added more fuel to the fire."

Donnie suddenly chuckled dryly before patting your shoulder. "Oh, sweet, sweet N/N. Never in twenty millennia will I fall for April. Especially that April. You and your oh-so-adorable attitude are all that I have eyes for."

"Alright, smooth 'Tello. I get it. It was very stupid for me to think that, anyway and I'm glad I have you." you smiled, hovering your hand over his shoulder before he nodded and you pulled him into a hug, him feeling the leftover heat from your body after you got completely soaked in the rain and snuggling his head into your neck.

"Plus, it was quite satisfying to see you put her in her place."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

(A/N: I hope you enjoyed this! take care and I hope you love this @jasontoddisbest <3)

#rottmnt #rottmnt donnie #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #save rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #fanfiction #rottmnt donnie x reader #donnie tmnt #donatello #rottmnt headcanons #tmnt 2018 #tmnt #tmnt 2k12 #tmnt 2012 #rottmnt april #tmnt2012 april #tmnt 2012 april

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i-want-all-the-cookies · 6 months

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I was so excited to read Weak Hero's "epilogue" today that I actually dreamt about it last night. 😅

But in typical dream fashion things weren't quite the same as in real life, and in this case instead of reading the last chapter, I was plopped down in front of a television watching the last episode of the anime. In the show, it was revealed that Donald had faked his death and that he also had a younger sister. They both had auburn hair, and it played a kind of flashback where it showed that Donald was bleaching his hair the whole time and he would also wear contacts to hide his real eye color, which was a deep chocolate brown. (Please remember this was a dream, and I am very well aware that this makes absolutely zero sense in real life lol). And just when it was about to show the reasoning for Donald's actions and what was going on with his sister, I had to stop watching because- again with typical dream nonsense- I was watching the show while inside a haunted house, and someone I was with had pissed off some of the ghost. And I had to abruptly step away from the television to try to calm the ghosties down and to stop them from totally fucking up my dumb friend. AND of course when I finally got back to the show the end credits were rolling, and when I tried to rewind the episode, or find out how I can rewatch it, I couldn't read shit-diddly of what was on the screen 😮‍💨. So I woke up super frustrated but also hopeful that the "epilogue" was going to answer all my questions.

Anyone who's read the "epilogue" by now knows that it, in fact, did NOT answer any of my questions. I personally wouldn't have even called it an epilogue, but more of an author's note. Since that was really what it was. 😒

I am thankful to the creators for their time, energy, and health that went into making this amazing story. I am still incredibly disappointed and dissatisfied with the ending, but I would still take that shit ending if it meant that I got to experience this story in the first place. Because, as stated in a previous post, I do love this story a whole lot more than I hate it.

Plus, my professional levels of delulu can let me pretend that ending never happened. Maybe I can even pretend my dream ending was the official ending, and I can just mentally fill in the blank spots that "dream me" didn't get to watch.

Then there's also always the option of reading fanfics! 😆

Now that I got that out of the way, ya'll know I can't leave without mentioning my fav and sharing the extras tidbits that were given to us.

I'm dying that Jimmy was ALWAYS meant to be the annoying, loud one! 😂

This👆 is 100% what I imagine texting Jimmy would be like. Family, friend or foe, there's no asking, just ordering or demanding 💀

And I'm not gonna forget our last goodbye to the only girls in the series 😥

#Gotta check my bingo card now #I'm pretty sure most squares will remain open 🙃#Weak Hero ending #Weak Hero #Thank You for all the memories ❤️#I still need to finish my own fics as well 🤡

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here2bbtstrash · 2 years

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look down on me like that - 6 (explicit)

genre: slow burn enemies to lovers hatefucking coworkers au, smut (w some eventual angst)

pairing: yoongi x reader

summary: your asshole coworker min yoongi has made it his personal mission to ruin your life.

word count: 6.2k

contains: ~explicit sexual content~ !! alcohol mention, some mildly twisty conversations about consent/regretting sex (everything in this series is very consensual tho just wanna reiterate), teasing, dirty talk, VERY semi-public sex with risk of being heard/caught, fingering, lowkey fingerwarming, hold the moan, light choking, finger sucking, dumbification if you rly squint, protected sex (in the office... oop 👀), fucking against a door lmao 🙌🏻

A/N: sooooo excited to post this hehe 💜 i know this chap is a lil bit of a shorty but they can't all be 11k, and i'm trying to give y'all a mild refractory period before we launch into even more chaos 💀 AND SORRY NOT SORRY FOR THE CLIFFHANGER ENDING..... i promise i won't keep you hanging for long 😘

read on AO3!

chapter five | masterlist | chapter seven

~*~

“So… it’s been nearly a week,” Jimin prompts just as you tip your head back to take a long swig of your beer. The bratty tone in your best friend’s voice only encourages you to chug another swallow before you set the glass back down. He doesn’t even have to say the since you fucked your coworker part out loud.

Using the provided scissors and tongs, he starts to cut up the strips of pork belly laid flat on the grill between you. “When’s the wedding? Have you named your kids yet?”

“I can’t stand you,” you whine, torn between wanting to kick him under the table and wanting him to share the meat he’s been so carefully preparing. The aroma is making your mouth water as it sizzles on the hot surface.

You settle for fixing him with your best death glare.

Jimin shrugs, unbothered. “That’s fine. I just wanna know how you’re handling the fact that you are now officially sleeping with the enemy.”

“Aht aht. Slept with.” You raise a finger to correct him, using your other hand to maneuver your chopsticks to pick up a marinated cucumber and pop it into your mouth. “Past tense.”

Jimin purses his lips, looking unconvinced. “Is that so?”

“Are you kidding me?” You make a face. “It was a moment of weakness, and now it’s done. What would be the point in letting him have it again? In letting him win like that?” You wave a hand dismissively. “Absolutely not.”

“You are so dumb,” Jimin laughs as he starts to extoll pork onto your plate. “I cannot believe you found good dick and now you’re actively declining it. After how insane you nearly went? You think that won’t happen again?”

“I got it out of my system,” you say with a proud shake of your head, popping a piece of meat into your mouth. It’s so hot it nearly burns your tongue off, but the flavor is well worth it, and you continue with your mouth full. “And I’m good. Moving on with my life.”

Jimin hums like he doesn’t believe a damn word. “And how’s that gonna work out for you in a couple weeks, when you and Suga are in Los Angeles together, breathing that sweet American air? And sharing a hotel room that just so happens to only have one bed?”

With the pork belly successfully secured on your plate, you have no reason to hold back from kicking him this time. “You watch too much TV.”

“Speaking of!” He pauses with food halfway to his mouth, dropping it back onto his plate as he digs into his pocket for his phone. “My comps finally came in for the show I’m dancing in this weekend. I’m not even going to ask if you have plans because I already know the answer, so you better fucking be there.”

You pick up your phone to see his text come in, face scrunching up as you chew. “Two questions,” you prompt. “One, I fail to see what this has to do with watching TV. And two, why did you send me two tickets?”

Jimin rests his elbows on the table, fingers laced together under his chin, somewhere in between posing cutely and looking like he’s about to read you for filth.

“Out of the kindness of my heart, because I am such a good fucking friend, I am giving you a chance for a little Business Proposal moment. Bring your Suga, see what happens.” He shrugs a shoulder. “One concert could change everything, you know?”

You grind your teeth together and reach for your drink as he uses your favorite show against you, humming the theme tune under his breath. “I really hate you.”

“You love me.”

“Unfortunately. But I am not bringing Suga to your fucking concert,” you clarify, glass halfway to your mouth. “There is a world of difference between wanting to fuck someone and wanting to spend an evening with them.”

“So you do still want to fuck him,” Jimin presses his lips together and raises his eyebrows. “Very interesting.”

“Don’t make me leave you with the bill.” You roll your eyes and down the rest of your beer in one swig.

An hour later, you’ve eaten your body weight in grilled meats and have thrown back enough beers that the world blurs gently at the edges, vignetted, as you slip out onto the sidewalk and say goodnight to your best friend.

You’d managed to convince Jimin to meet at the place that’s just a few blocks from your apartment, and it’s not a terribly cold evening, all things considered. The alcohol certainly helps keep you warm as you make the short walk back home, the still-busy streets humming and blinking soft around you.

It takes a concentrated effort to use your phone without tripping in your current state, and you thumb slowly through your texts until you land on the concert tickets from Jimin. When his words echo again in your brain, you do your best to chase them off with a frustrated sigh.

It will be a cold day in hell before you voluntarily spend an evening with Yoongi, you tell yourself. But it’d be nice to go with someone.

You’re scrolling down your contact list and lifting the ringing phone to your ear before you can decide whether or not it’s a good idea.

After two rings, the line connects, and a voice answers. “Hello?”

“Hi, Jungkook.” You giggle a little despite yourself. You’ve never spoken to your coworker in any state of inebriation before, and once his name leaves your mouth, you realize you’re a little more fucked up than you bargained for. But it’s fine, you tell yourself. You’re fine.

“Hi— is everything okay?”

You double-blink, not expecting the check-in. “Yeah, no, everything’s great.” It only occurs to you now that maybe you’ve interrupted whatever his post-work plans might be. “Sorry, I— were you in the middle of something?”

He lets out a sheepish laugh, and you imagine that his cheeks are flushed pink, the way they sometimes get after boxing class. “Nothing important. I was brushing my dog’s teeth, actually. You just, uh, usually text—”

“Wait,” you fully interrupt him. “You have a dog?”

“I have three dogs,” he corrects, with another light laugh that’s almost musical. “My sons.”

“Jungkook!” You exclaim in mock-anger. “I am hurt and betrayed that you have kept this information from me!”

“I’m sorry!” He giggles back, clearly flustered. “It didn’t come up! I’ll send you some pictures, I promise. They’re very cute.”

“You better,” you huff. “And here I was getting ready to be nice to you.”

“Oh?” Jungkook sounds intrigued. There’s a soft shifting sound on the line, and you find yourself wondering if he’s laying down in bed, phone pressed to his cheek. The image makes your heart sink a little, and you shove the feeling away to process when you’re less tipsy. “How were you going to be nice?”

You pause for a moment to cross the street, letting your fake-hurt charade drop. “Well, my best friend is a dancer, and he was booked to perform in this concert that’s happening tomorrow night. He gave me a free ticket and an extra, and I was wondering, if you’re not doing anything… if you want to go with me?”

“Yeah, for sure!” You swear you can hear Jungkook’s smile light up the phone. “That sounds awesome.”

You linger at the front of your apartment building, phone tucked to your ear, watching cars and bicyclists roll by in the neon smear of the city at night. “Awesome,” you repeat back. “I’ll text you my address if you want to come pick me up after work?” A little bubble of excitement floats up and pops in your chest.

“I can definitely do that.”

~*~

“You need to fill all this out for the Grammy’s trip.”

The large stack of registration paperwork lands on Yoongi’s desk with a resounding thud, but he doesn’t so much as bat an eye. Though you’ve put on a brave face and moved back to your desk in the lobby after the happy hour incident, you’ve still avoided any alone time with the genius in his lab, as much as you can help it.

Today, it could not be helped. Especially given your need for a change in schedule.

“And I’m leaving early tonight.” You add, trying to feign confidence, just be direct and to the point. “I need you out of here at five, Yoongi.”

He grunts a noncommittal response, but doesn’t look up from the screen of his computer. His eyes are squinting slightly at the tracks on his mixing software. You wonder for a moment if maybe he needs glasses.

You furrow your brow as soon as you process the thought—what the fuck do you care about this man’s eyesight? You give your head a subtle shake in hopes of dislodging the idea.

Yoongi waves a hand silently, as if to imply you’re dismissed.

You really don’t know what makes you say it. “Jungkook and I are going to a concert.”

At this, Yoongi’s concentration seems to falter. He glances away from the screen, head tilting slightly to one side as he eyes you. “A date with Kookie, huh? Cute. I knew you two would get there eventually.”

You’re not sure what other conclusion you expected him to draw from the information, but suddenly your face is hot. You have to suppress the physical urge to squirm in frustration, to literally stomp your feet like a toddler.

“Can you just be normal?” You snap. “It’s not like that. Not everyone wants to fuck their coworkers all the time.”

He spins a quarter-circle in his chair to fully face you with an eyebrow raised. “Does Jungkook know it’s not like that?”

You stammer at being put on the spot. “I-I’m sure he does.”

Yoongi blinks lazily at you. “Uh huh.”

Rage flares up in your gut before you can stop it. “Jungkook is a nice guy. He’s not a boundary-crossing creep like you.” The words sting like acid as they leave your mouth.

Yoongi gets to his feet so quickly you barely have time to process it.

For every step he takes towards you, you take one towards the door of his lab, walking backwards. “You know,” he mutters darkly, “I liked your mouth a lot better when it was on my cock.”

Your back finds purchase against the closed door, and you swallow hard, refusing to show fear. “Well, remember it fondly, because I’m not making that mistake twice.”

Yoongi falls quiet for a moment, eyes searching yours. You’re a little surprised when he takes a step back. “Do you really feel like I violated a boundary?” His voice is flat, nearly monotone, when he asks the question.

You fumble for your words, for the truth; both are hard to find. “I-I don’t know.”

He surveys you with an expression you can’t decipher. “I gave you plenty of opportunity to say no. Do you feel like you were too drunk?”

“No. I mean, I consented. I’m not saying I didn’t. I just… we’re coworkers.”

“I’m aware. You called it a mistake. Do you regret it?”

“Do you?”

He huffs a dry laugh. “You keep acting like I’m not stating it plainly here. I would love to fuck you senseless again any time, sweetheart.” The pet name is biting. “I’d take you right up against this door, if you wanted. But not if you’re going to regret it.”

Your mind swims as you try to make sense of this conversation. “What if I don’t?”

Yoongi takes a single step closer to you. “Well, then I’d ask you when you want it again.”

The expression on his face, as if he’s won some smug game, is endlessly infuriating. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction. “And what makes you think I’ll just give it up again?”

He just keeps smirking, eyes locked on you. “You tell me. I’m the one asking permission here.”

You tilt your chin up towards Yoongi, suddenly very aware of how close he is to you. Something in you pulls taught as you recall your conversation in the bathroom after he nearly came in your mouth.

“If you want it so bad, then beg for it.” The words spark between your teeth as you say them.

There’s a glint in Yoongi’s eyes, and a muscle in his jaw jumps, as if he wasn’t expecting that response. Then he slowly starts to nod. “Is that what you want?”

You refuse to look away. “Did I stutter?”

His tongue darts out briefly to wet his lips, and then he laughs an exhale, a single indignant breath. Eye contact never faltering, you watch as he drops to his knees in front of you.

“Can I touch you?” He asks. The silence of the room hangs heavy between you, roaring in your ears like white noise. Yoongi blinks once, dark lashes fluttering. “Please?”

You feel some last mechanism of inner restraint shatter as you nod.

Yoongi’s touch is deliberate but, surprisingly, not rough. His palms meet the backs of your thighs and begin to slide up, encouraging you to pull your hips off the door and allow him room, your shoulders still pressed flush against the wood behind you.

His hands keep moving, slipping under the back of your dress with no hesitation, only stopping when he finds what he’s looking for: the band of your panties, which he hooks his thumbs under and swiftly pulls down your legs, leaving the lacy fabric to pool around your ankles. You shift to kick them off and suddenly realize your mouth has gone dry.

“Do I have to use my words?” Yoongi asks, voice low. His hands retrace their path back up your thighs, but he takes his time with it now. You hate the way your breath is starting to go shaky from his touch.

“What else would you use?”

“My tongue.”

Yoongi has pushed the hem of your dress up, his mouth devastatingly close to your center and his hands cupping your ass. He stares up at you, waiting patiently for a response, dark eyes brimming with want.

You’re still not even sure of your answer as you start to say it, but then a firm knock at the door cuts you off, loud enough to rattle your brain inside your skull. Ice floods your veins as your eyes go wide.

“Min Suga?” Jungkook’s voice calls from the other side.

Your breath hitches in your chest. This can’t be happening.

“Hey, JK,” Yoongi calls, not moving from where he’s knelt on the floor in front of you, both hands still firmly grabbing your ass. “Sorry, I’ve–” he glances pointedly up at you, and it takes everything you have not to slap him when he continues, “I’ve kinda got my hands full right now. What’s up?”

“No worries, you gave me the code, remember?” Your stomach twists violently as you hear the distinct beeping of Jungkook starting to type into the number pad.

You tear your gaze away from Yoongi to your lacy underwear, in plain sight, too far away that you can’t possibly retrieve them in the mere seconds you have to react.

Adrenaline surges through you, enough to make you lightheaded, to make your limbs go numb. There’s no time to do anything. You flatten yourself against the door as the handle starts to turn and the overwhelming urge to cry rushes up into your chest.

Yoongi seems to finally take the situation seriously, because in a flash, he’s on his feet, arms caging you in on either side to push firmly back against the door. His forearms peek out from under the short sleeves of his black t-shirt— you can see the defined muscles there flex and work, the way his veins bulge under his pale skin as he presses all his weight into the door with a look of real, concentrated effort.

Fuck. You’re not sure you’ve ever been simultaneously aroused and on the verge of tears before.

“Sorry, Jungkook,” Yoongi tries again, and you can hear him attempting to keep the strain out of his voice. “I’m, uh– redecorating a bit in here. I’ve got some stuff blocking the door right now. Can we just talk like this?”

“Oh yeah, sure, okay!” Jungkook answers brightly. You squeeze your eyes shut, desperately willing this nightmare to be over. While you’re pretty sure Jungkook won’t try the door again, an animalistic part of you is still too terrified to do anything, frozen in fear at what nearly just happened.

You’re only distantly aware of Jungkook babbling on about work. “I’ve got a few questions about upcoming release scheduling, so I can know what content we need to get ready. Can you talk me through the rest of Q1 real quick? Just so I know what’s coming when.”

A shiver runs through you at the feeling of a touch, so barely-there that at first you think you might be imagining it.

Your eyes flutter open to find one of Yoongi’s large hands pressed to your throat, delicate fingers splayed over the column of your neck.

It could be aggressive, but it’s not. Decidedly not. His touch is featherlight, and he applies no pressure to your windpipe. If anything, the gentle weight of his hand is oddly… comforting. A word you would never have thought to associate with Min fucking Yoongi before this moment.

The silver chain bracelet on his wrist winks in the soft purple glow of his studio lights, and you stare at it in a daze, entranced. You can feel your adrenaline high beginning to crash: the world feels muted, faded, far away.

“Go ahead, Jungkook,” Yoongi prompts, and you wonder if you’re imagining that his voice has softened just the slightest bit.

You drag your gaze up to him as he starts to talk through scheduling with Jungkook, his tone all business. He’s not looking at you, eyes instead fixed firmly on the door in front of him, occasionally rolling up to glance at the ceiling when he’s trying to recall something.

As your heart rate starts to settle, you take a moment to drink in Yoongi’s features unobserved. The line of his jaw. The slight furrow of his brow. His full, pink lips.

Your throat jumps when you swallow under his touch, and he doesn’t look down, but his hand begins to move. His palm stays heavy over the slope of your throat, but his fingers and thumb move smoothly, tracing faint patterns over your skin, stroking along the muscles of your neck and setting every last one of your nerve endings alight.

Your eyes are heavy-lidded with lust now, and your head tips back against the door, all thoughts blotted out at his touch. Fuck, it feels good.

A gasp slips past your lips when you feel Yoongi’s other hand brush over your leg, and you pray the door is thick enough that the sound doesn’t carry. He’s still talking through scheduling with Jungkook, answering questions as calmly as ever, as his whole palm comes to rest on one of your thighs below the hem of your dress, fingers just barely teasing under the fabric.

When Yoongi finally meets your gaze, his dark eyes pierce straight through you, as if to pin you to the door. He raises one eyebrow in a silent question, and the meaning is unmistakable: another request for permission.

Arousal rolls through you like a riptide, and you’re dragged under before you can even think to fight it. The dramatics of the previous close call linger— it feels like you’ll die if he doesn’t touch you right now. The fact that you shouldn’t be doing this only makes you want it more.

You don’t look away as you nod your consent.

You spread your legs to allow him room, hips tilting up, and Yoongi slips his hand under your dress to snake between your parted thighs. Fresh desire mixes with the cotton-numb fuzz of dwindling panic in your brain, the knowledge that Jungkook is still inches away from you and talking as Yoongi’s hand approaches your center. You have to bite down on your bottom lip at the first brush of contact.

Their conversation continues on, but you don’t process a word of it.

Yoongi traces two fingers gently over the lips of your cunt, teasing devastatingly close to your clit before moving down to circle at your entrance, where he slicks them in the wetness that has already started to pool there.

He keeps his movements so slow, his touch so light; your mind belatedly catches up to realize that anything more will surely start to elicit an audible sound.

You wonder if maybe this is it, if he’s just going to torture you, his fingers running through your folds in long strokes that have your core throbbing until you can’t take it anymore. And then he laughs a little at a comment Jungkook makes and uses the moment of sound coverage to deftly press those two fingers into you.

You bite down even harder on your lower lip in an attempt to stay quiet. Yoongi’s fingers push in to the hilt, long and thick enough to fill you up entirely. It’s all you can do to keep your breathing steady— the feeling of him inside of you jolts through you with every inhale.

Desperate for movement and nearly shaking with hypersensitivity, you clench your pussy around his fingers in a silent plea for more.

As if in response, the hand around your throat just barely tightens. You don’t know whether to read it as encouragement or a warning, but it makes your eyes flutter closed all the same.

His fingers begin to curl at a truly torturous pace, and then they press so firmly into your g-spot that your knees nearly buckle.

You’re hardly cognizant of the room around you anymore, or the wood of the door digging into your back; nothing else seems to matter in this moment except the weight of Yoongi’s fingers and the way your walls grip tightly around them.

Your eyes snap open again when his other hand suddenly leaves your throat. You feel exposed without it, but you shiver all over as the warmth of his palm trails along your collarbone before traveling down the slope of your body to settle at your waist.

As soon as that hand stills, the other pulls back from the heat of your cunt, and he brings his fingers up to brush over your bottom lip. His eyes roam hungrily over your face as he asks another silent question.

You open your mouth like a reflex, and you willingly let Yoongi pet the taste of you over your tongue. Your lips close around his fingers, and your gaze stays locked with his as you hollow your cheeks to suck diligently, swallowing down your own slickness.

With a heady groan, he withdraws, leaning forward to brace the same hand against the door just next to your head.

It occurs to you now that he’s no longer speaking, no longer afraid of making noise. Jungkook must have left– you can’t say when that happened.

The returning silence of the room pulses like a heartbeat. Yoongi is hovering over you, lips slightly parted, close enough that you can feel the heat of his breath, and you swear the distance between you is narrowing by the second.

“Nervous?” He murmurs, so quiet you easily could’ve imagined it.

“Fuck me.” Your voice comes out a little hoarse.

“Hmm?” Yoongi freezes where he is, sounding almost dazed when he hums the question. Just shy of your mouth but invitingly, dangerously close.

Your hands are already fumbling to undo the buckle of his belt. “I said fuck me, Yoongi,” you snap. “Up against this door. Before I change my mind.”

The corner of Yoongi’s mouth just barely pulls up. “God, you’re bossy,” he murmurs, but then his arm is no longer caging you against the door, and he makes quick work of getting his pants and boxers pushed down.

When he backs off, you draw in a breath that’s like coming up for air.

Your head reels a little when you see that he’s fully hard and starting to drip precum: you’re not sure when that happened, either. He retrieves a condom from his wallet and makes short work of tearing it open with his teeth.

The thought of his mouth so close to yours again is terrifying in a way you don’t have words for. Before he can step back towards you, you turn and press both hands flush with the door. You reach down briefly to hike the hem of your dress up over your hips.

It’s mildly humiliating to present yourself like this for him, exposed, back arched, your pussy aroused enough to slick your thighs and just waiting to be filled again. And yet, not unlike the risk of getting caught, the shame only makes it hotter, in some twisted way.

Yoongi braces one hand against the door, gripping your hip tightly with the other. You breathe in shallow gasps as his cock teases your entrance, and then he slowly starts to press into you.

“Shit, Yoongi,” you whine softly, overwhelmed by the feeling of him fucking you open. The stretch of him makes your eyes roll back in your head, just as perfect as you remember, and all you can do is take it. When he bottoms out, you do your best to bite back a moan, wiggling your ass to fully sheathe him inside of you, wanting every inch.

“Fuck,” he hisses. You whimper again in response.

“We still have to be pretty quiet— these walls aren’t that thick. Guess you can’t scream my name this time.” His voice is dark, sardonic, and you grit your teeth as you look at him over your shoulder.

“Will you shut up and fuck me?”

“Didn’t realize you were my manager,” he huffs, but then he starts to thrust, hard and fast, and you choke on a barely-suppressed noise. You arch up higher to push back on him, your body begging silently for it, your walls fluttering as the thick head of his cock drags over your g-spot again and again.

Yoongi’s hand on your hip shifts, fingers splaying over the soft flesh of your ass, digging in hard enough to bruise. You inhale sharply at the sweet sparks of pleasure-pain, already edged close and losing the fight to stay quiet.

“How does it feel?”

You’re surprised by the question, and even more so at the sincerity with which Yoongi seems to ask it, voice low in his throat and a little raw. You have to scramble to find words through the haze of your impending climax.

“I-it’s good,” you manage. His hips snap into you even harder and you gasp again. “Fuck, really good.”

He exhales a dark laugh. “Yeah, I can tell. You’re squeezing me so fucking tight, shit.”

Your head nearly smacks against the door from how forcefully his cock is now pounding into your tight heat. You roll your eyes– of course he wasn’t sincerely asking. You want to kick yourself for even entertaining the idea that Min Yoongi could be anything other than a selfish asshole.

Despite that fact, his rough, relentless thrusts are enough to leave you breathless, and the pleasure builds hot and fast in your core. Your head is spinning, and a shiver rips through you when you suddenly feel his breath over your neck, hear his voice in your ear.

“Gonna think about getting fucked like this on your date tonight?”

The stifled whine you let out and the way your pussy throbs around him betray any denial you could’ve tried to make. You look back over your shoulder at him, attempting to say something, anything, and then Yoongi’s hand slips down to circle your clit and you lose the ability to think coherently at all.

“Wanna feel you come on my cock,” Yoongi murmurs, and you swear your legs almost give out.

It’s just white-hot pleasure now, and you have to clamp a hand over your mouth and sob into it as your orgasm crests, your thighs shaking violently under his touch.

“Fuuuck,” Yoongi groans hoarsely as you start to pulse around him, over and over. His breathing comes in ragged gasps that match the pace of his hips as he keeps rutting into you, until he pushes all the way in with a last grunt of effort and you milk his release out with yours.

You slump forward, heart racing, and brace your forearms on the door to let your head loll between them. Yoongi stays stationary for a moment too, the hand on your hip absent-mindedly kneading into your skin, before he finally shifts and withdraws from your still-quivering cunt.

With a steadying exhale, you slowly right yourself on shaking legs while he steps away to deal with the condom.

Once your path is clear, you don’t wait around to suffer any small talk. You move to retrieve your panties off the floor and pull them back on with the last scrap of dignity you can manage. Then you shove your dress down over your hips and cross back to the door.

You leave without a second glance back at Yoongi.

When you emerge from the Genius Lab, you make an immediate beeline for the bathroom, which is thankfully empty. It’s only once you press your palms flat against the cool marble countertop of the sink that you feel like you can breathe again, and you have to make a conscious effort not to hyperventilate.

Your mind is racing as you take in your reflection in the mirror and attempt to put yourself back together, trying your best to look like you didn’t just get fucked against a door.

A door in the office. Because you are at work. Where you just had sex with a coworker you hate.

The realization of what you just did, how stupid you just were, hits you like a train. Fuck. You’re met with the overwhelming urge to scream at yourself. What is wrong with you? Your eyes roam over your own face, as if you might find the answer hidden there somewhere; your bottom lip is slightly swollen from how hard you were biting down on it.

Can you call something a mistake if you’ve voluntarily made it twice now– and while stone cold sober the second time, no less? And what if it’s a mistake you want to make again?

That can’t happen, you firmly tell your reflection. You won’t let Yoongi get a third strike on you, and you certainly won’t let him fuck up this job for you any more than he already has. He is now officially out of your system.

You gently smooth out your hair, and then you pause, fingertips lingering over the skin of your neck. You tilt your chin up slightly to get a good look in the mirror. There aren’t any visible marks, but you can’t quite shake the memory of Yoongi’s hand closed over your throat— the way everything in the world seemed to blink out of existence under his touch, if only for a moment.

It’s over, you tell yourself again. It has to be.

With a resigned sigh, you run your hands down over the front of your dress, then check the back to confirm there aren’t any weird stains. As much as you want to hide away in the bathroom for the rest of the day, you force yourself back out the door and down the hallway towards the lobby.

Your heart creeps into your throat as your footsteps bring you closer to the Genius Lab, and you forcefully tell yourself that it’s not a big deal. You’re just going to walk right by and head to your desk to proceed with the rest of your work day, thoroughly unbothered.

At this point you wonder why you’re even surprised when the door swings open and Yoongi practically runs into you. You jump out of his way, startled— and you are surprised to see that he has his bag slung over his shoulder and his dark sunglasses on.

“Just heading out,” Yoongi mutters, and your only answer is to keep your gaze fixed on your shoes when you brush past him and continue down the hall.

You’re sure he must be following after you, and you have to swallow the urge to interrogate him— ask why he’s leaving so early, where he’s going. You don’t care, you remind yourself. Not having him around is a good thing.

As you approach the office lobby, you glance up to see Jungkook walking towards you from the other direction. He holds up a hand in a lazy wave, and you come to a dead stop.

It’s the first time you’ve ever felt anything other than happy to see your coworker. Now panic rises in your chest, a wonder if maybe, somehow, he knows what happened on the other side of the Genius Lab door.

“I was just coming to find you,” he says as he crosses to meet you where the two hallways join and spill into the lobby.

You can tell from the look on his face that he means it. There’s no hidden agenda. Nothing to hold over your head. It’s enough to make you exhale a small laugh of relief.

“Well, you found me,” you say.

“Leaving already, Min Suga?” Jungkook’s gaze jumps to look behind you, and dread pools in your stomach. You couldn’t imagine a more mortifying exchange right now if you tried.

Yoongi doesn’t dignify Jungkook with a response, only hums noncommittally as he slips past the two of you and heads for the exit. Your stomach clenches as you wait to hear the doors open and close, praying there’s no sarcastic remark coming, praying he’ll just leave.

His hand presses flat against the glass, and then he turns over his shoulder, as if he’s just thought of something. “You kids have fun tonight,” he quips dryly. Then he pushes the door open and slips out into the hallway.

Jungkook looks a little lost. “Oh, uh, did you tell Suga that we–”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, it sort of came up. When I said he needed to leave early.” Jungkook nods, and you’re eager to change the subject. “What did you want to ask me?”

“I realized we didn’t agree on a time for me to pick you up tonight. I was thinking seven, if that works?”

Your heart sinks a little in your chest as you take in Jungkook’s sweet smile, the expectant but patient look on his face, Baby-Star-Candy eyes blinking. Your earlier conversation with Yoongi echoes in your mind like a knife to the gut.

“Actually, JK, can I talk to you? About tonight?”

“Yeah, absolutely. Is everything okay?”

“Yes, yeah, I, uh– I just wanted to make sure you knew that…” You tense up as you prepare to deliver the blow. “This… isn’t a date. I was asking you as friends. That’s all.”

“Okay,” Jungkook says simply. His face betrays no hurt feelings.

You’re rambling, unable to believe it could be this easy. “I mean, I-I just… don’t think it’s a good idea, you know? For coworkers to date.” Or fuck, a snide voice in your head adds.

Jungkook nods. “No, I totally get it, but seriously, you don’t have to explain yourself to me. I really like being your friend.” He shrugs, as if that’s all there is to it. “So, I’ll pick you up at seven?”

Relief floods through you like a balm. “Seven sounds great.”

“Cool.” He’s already reaching into his back pocket for his phone. “Can I show you pictures of my dogs now?”

~*~

At 6:55, there’s a firm knock on your door, and you squeak as you dig through the bottom of your closet in search for the right pair of shoes.

You spent most of the last hour on FaceTime with Jimin, who did what a good best friend is meant to do: viciously tear apart nearly everything in your closet while bent forward in a straddle split, warming up for his performance.

The two of you had eventually (more or less) compromised on a black t-shirt dress with a denim jacket thrown over top. Though Jimin had derided the look as “basic”, you’ve decided you’re just fine with that.

You finally find what you're looking for, retrieving your white Air Force Ones and stumbling to pull them on your socked feet as you trip out of your room and towards the front door.

You lean down to tie the laces as quickly as you can, then flip back upright, blood rushing to your head so fast you feel a little faint. You’re not sure why your heart has started to pick up speed, but you let out an exhale as you reach for the door handle, hoping it might help offset these strange sudden nerves.

You turn the handle and swing the door open to greet Jungkook with a smile– and your jaw drops at the sight waiting for you on the other side.

chapter five | masterlist | chapter seven

#yoongi smut #yoongi angst #yoongi x reader #bts fanfic #bts x reader #look down on me like that

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buckysimp101 · 2 years

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Everything the Light Touches (18+) - Chapter Five

Mafia!Bucky x F!Reader

warning: language, angst (sorry yall but i promise the smut is coming, it’s just a slow burn besties)

a/n: the response from the last chapter has been AMAZING! I’m so glad y’all are enjoying this fic, I’m enjoying writing it! If you read “Love at First Grade” as it came out and you’re reading “Everything the Light Touches” now, you’re probably noticing that I’m not posting as fast and I feel like that’s just because I want to make this story last a little longer than my last. So. hope that’s okay, hope you enjoy!

Series Masterlist

The date with Liam rolled around faster than you expected. As you sat in front of your vanity, fixing your hair and your makeup and wearing one of your nicest dresses, a part of you couldn’t believe that you’d only been back in the city for 72 hours and already your mother had successfully set you up on a date. Liam had texted you this morning, Marsha must’ve relayed the news to him because you’d promptly discarded the contacts of everyone of your hometown acquaintances when you left for California a decade ago, and told you that he’d be at your apartment to pick you up around seven and to ‘wear something pretty.’ The semi-demand put you off almost immediately and had you dreading the date all day.

A small part of you was thankful that Pepper and Tony had given you a few days to settle back in before having you go to work, but if you had known your mother had planned this, you probably would’ve told them that you didn’t need any time to get back used to the city and you would start back as soon as the movers left your apartment. Not that it would’ve prevented your mother from setting up this date. Your whole life she’d been practically forcing the two of you to hang out, whether by inviting Marsha and Alexander over for dinner, or just by hosting parties and he happened to be there, Liam Stinson was always around.

He was the kid to pull on your hair and make fun of your bows or your pink dresses when you were in elementary school. In fact, Liam Stinson picking on you was how Bucky and Steve became your friends in the first place.

Twenty Years Ago

“Leave me alone, Liam!” You yelled as he tugged your hair in between his fingers, laughing as you struggled to get away. He managed to successfully free your bow from your hair and was now dangling it in front of you face as he teased.

“Awww, does the wittle baby want her bow?” He pushed out his lips in a mock pout as he held it just out of your reach, making you stand on the tips of your toes to try and wrangle it out of his grasp. An evil grin took over Liam’s face as he flung your bow into the mud puddle, your jaw dropping and tears welling up in your eyes as you watched your favorite bow sink into the puddle. Liam’s laugh was cut short by a loud “ow!” The noise had you whipping around to see Liam holding his face and running away from two boys.

“Are you okay? Did Liam hurt you?” the blonde one asked, the brunette still watching the path that Liam had taken to make sure he didn’t run to one of the teachers.

You shook your head softly, unsure if they were going to pick on you like Liam, before answering, “I’m okay, he just pulled my hair and threw my bow in the mud…” you trailed off to see that the brunette had picked up your bow from the mud puddle and was in the process of wringing it out before handing it back to you with a grimace, almost as if he was apologizing for not being able to clean it all the way.

“Thank you…?” You questioned, waiting for the boys to introduce themselves.

“Oh, I’m Steve, that’s Bucky,” the blonde spoke with a smile as he nodded his head in the direction of his friend. The first thing you noticed about Bucky, besides that you thought his name was funny, were his eyes. A blue so deep you almost got lost in them at just eight years old. You knew that the polite thing to do would have been to thank them for helping you and getting your bow but your mouth spoke before your brain could stop you.

“Bucky? What kind of a name is Bucky?” Your nose wrinkled a little before you realized what you had said but before you could apologize the boy in question was laughing.

“It’s my nickname, Stevie gave it to me. My real name is James Buchanan Barnes…but we agree that’s just a lot,” he spoke as if he’d had to explain his nickname a thousand times over in his short lifetime.

You nodded your head slowly before responding, “I like Bucky…but why not Jamie?”

His lips quirked up into a little grin, “you can call me Jamie if you like it.”

His words caused your cheeks to heat up and Steve to laugh at his friend.

“Well thank you Steve and Bucky for helping me…do you wanna play with me? We could play tag?” Twin grins etched upon their faces, the three of you chased each other around the playground of the rest of recess. You had always wondered what Steve and Bucky had said to Liam to make him run away but not tell any teachers about what had happened… but then you just considered yourself lucky that no questions were ever asked.

And thus a tight-knit friendship was formed. Or so you thought.

“You look great,” Liam drawled, his eyes raking over your body, as you had to force yourself to not roll your eyes and to thank him instead, returning the compliment as ‘sincerely’ as you could as he ushered you inside the restaurant. You weren’t necessarily lying. Liam Stinson was attractive in the robotic, young politician way. With short brown hair and brown eyes, a polite smile that could sometimes be viewed as a sneer, he looked like every young Senator you’d ever seen. All you could do was cross your fingers that the date would be over before you knew it and pray that your mother had only promised one date and not a follow up.

After the incident with Bucky and Steve all those years ago, Liam hadn’t teased you again. In fact, for high school his mother and Alexander had actually moved Liam to another private school closer to his house so you weren’t forced to see his face every single day. But, his mother was close with yours, which meant that you would occasionally see each other or be forced to hang out when there were parties hosted at your house. Occasionally, Bucky was there to act as a buffer, especially when his parents were invited, but the invitation extension to the Barnes family became less and less common as the years went on even as you and Bucky had grown closer, something that had confused you to no end.

“So your mom tells mine that you’re back in town for good. You’re working with Stark Industries now? Secretary?” Liam questioned as he leaned into the booth, smoothing one arm over your shoulders, making a shiver crawl down your spine.

Taking a sip of your wine for a little liquid courage you corrected him, “I am back in town, for as long as Stark Industries is at least. And no, I used to be an Executive Assistant, I’m now their lawyer.” Liam’s eyes bulged at that last tidbit, as if it was the first time he was hearing it and it wouldn’t have surprised you if it was. Your mother was not super thrilled when you had told her you were going to law school for corporate law. She had wished you would have stayed as a receptionist or secretary instead so that you could start a family faster. You’d very quickly shut those hopes down.

“Wow, corporate lawyer…that’s…wow,” he muttered as he sipped his own drink. You were about to question his run for Senate, something that you really didn’t care all that much about but you figured it was an easy turn of topic, when a voice you hadn’t heard in years interrupted you.

“Oh my god, Y/N L/N is that you sweetheart?” The all-too-familiar voice of Winnifred Barnes broke out as your attention was turned to the entirety of the Barnes family. Next thing you knew, you were being engulfed in a hug by Winnie, the comfort of her hug forcing up reminders of days past when she would hug you and tell you she loved you, and how lucky she and her family were to have you in their lives. George was next. When you were younger, he always acted a little more aloof than his wife, but he never failed to tell you how proud he was of you and how he knew you were going to go far.

When George pulled you in for a hug of his own he whispered in your ear, “heard you kicked the Bar Exam’s ass, superstar,” he winked as he pulled away, a look of mixed confusion and embarrassment pulling over your features. You knew after Bucky had left you that your parents had begun to massively limit their interactions with the Barnes family so the fact that George knew you were a lawyer had you slightly confused.

The only member of the Barnes family that was reacting in any fashion of ‘normal’ was Bucky. He didn’t say a word the entire interaction, merely keeping his eyes narrowed on you and Liam. The only words he spoke were to his parents so they could return to their table, yet another cold and harsh interaction to remind you that he was not the same man you had once loved.

“So…you seemed…pretty close with the Barnes family…what was that about?” Liam questioned right as your food was arriving, your stomach clenching at the mere thought of how close you’d truly been to them once upon a time.

“Oh…um…Bucky and I used to date. That’s all,” you offered the information as nonchalantly as you could, to try and make it seem like it was no big deal, but either the information or your delivery startled Liam as he almost choked on his lamb.

“Wait…you…and James Barnes…used to date?” His question sounded almost non-believing and borderline teasing, with a hint of interest as if he was digging for more. The tone made you square your shoulders and face him with as serious a look as you could muster.

“Something funny?”

“No it’s just…hard to imagine you with a mobster.”

Liam spoke lazily but intentionally, as if he was trying to get some information out of you or embarrass you or…both. But you weren’t having it. And as much as it pained you, you also weren’t about to out Bucky or his family legacy to Liam Stinson.

“James Barnes isn’t a mobster. He’s a businessman. Enough about the Barnes family. Tell me about your run for Senate.” The topic change worked because Liam launched into his story about fundraising, attending multiple charity events and even droning on and on about how helpful Alexander was during the whole thing. The topic became boring rather quickly but it gave you something else to focus on than the George and Winnie Barnes shaped hole that was re-forming in your heart. When the meal was finally over you thanked the universe that you didn’t run into Bucky or his family any more, and that Liam had stepped back from offering you a ride home. You thought that was it as you waited for your ride…until Liam brought up a little piece of information that you’d not been given.

“I had fun, Y/N. Can’t wait to do it again next week.”

The moment was spit take worthy, but sadly for you there was no drink to be found. Your head whipped towards him, eyes frantically searching his face for a sign that he was joking.

“What do you mean next week?”

“Your mom told me that we’d be going on these dinner dates once a week for the next month…she must’ve forgotten to remind you. But don’t worry, I’ll pick you up next week. Wear something like this again, your legs are killer,” he offered a sleazy winky before heading to his chauffeur and riding off into the night, leaving you in front of the restaurant with your mouth agape at the news bomb he’d dropped.

An earful. That’s what your mother received when you’d returned to your apartment and called her immediately to fuss at her for promising something you had no intention of delivering.

“Mom, no. I told you one date. Not one date a week for a MONTH!” You had practically screamed into your phone, trying to keep your heart rate normal as you listened to her tone deaf apology.

“Oh sweetie, it couldn’t have been that bad! I’m sure you had a great time, and it’s a free meal! Oh please just indulge your poor mother for a little bit,” she’d pouted, weakening your resolve until you finally groaned out a partial agreement to her plan. Promising to go on only one more date with Liam but no more after that. She agreed to the compromise pretty quickly, alarmingly quick if you had thought about it, but you merely brushed it off. Your first day at work brought up even strange news.

“A gala, Tony? Really?” you groaned after Tony entered your office to tell you all about the welcome home party he’d been planning under the guise of a gala. Tony Stark liked to party. You knew that. Hell everyone in Manhattan knew that. And a small part of you knew that you wouldn't be able to worm your way out of attending.

“Come on, Stark Industries is back in the city! We’ve got to celebrate it in style and YOU, my little cutthroat lawyer, are going to party and you’re going to like it,” he teased. You rolled your eyes, looking to Pepper in hopes that she’d be able to assign you with something to keep you busy but she just shrugged her shoulders as if to apologize and squeezed your arm.

“I know it’s soon to drop it on you, but we bought you a dress. And shoes. And we know you don’t have anything to do thanks to the fact that you have your personal calendar still linked with ours-OW!” Tony exclaimed, Pepper’s lips drawing together in a tight line after she elbowed him to get him to shut up.

“What Tony means is, we would love to have you there. We do already have some clothes purchased for you if you do come, but we’re not going to force you to go,” Pepper spoke calmly, her eyes glaring daggers at a somewhat sheepish Tony. Your sigh spoke volumes but you agreed, knowing that it would give you an excuse to not see Liam for your second date. Sadly, Liam only stated his understanding and how he would just reschedule your dinner for another time. The silent groan of dread filling your mind as you read his text to reschedule for the following week.

The gala, much like the first date with Liam, arrived quicker than anticipated. Even though Tony hadn’t given you enough time to truly prep for it, he’d obviously given Pepper enough time to plan a gorgeous party. The grand ballroom of the Plaza Hotel was practically glittering from all the camera flashes as more members of Manhattan’s elite began to crowd the hall. Sadly, a number of Manhattan’s elite included people you hadn’t seen in years, but they seemed to recognize you. One by one half of the parents of your old classmates, your parents’ old friends, and even neighbors you hadn’t seen in years approached you, asking how you were and what you were doing, how your parents were and if you were single. And one by one, their conversations became more and more overwhelming.

Your shoulders grew tense as you tried your best to find a way out of the conversations when all of a sudden, a warm hand slipped around your waist and a smooth voice spoke, “excuse me everyone, but Ms. L/N owes me a dance.”

Bucky Barnes stood next to you in his tuxedoed glory with a cocky smirk plastered onto his lips as he pulled you away from the growing crowd and forced you onto the dance floor. Anger simmered in your stomach at his manhandling and you attempted to rip yourself from his grasp, but his hands only tightened as they moved to your waist and your free hand, moving one to his shoulder. As he began moving the two of you around in a waltz he leaned in close to whisper in your ear.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Ms/ L/N. The way I see it, I saved you from the overstimulation you were receiving back there.”

His voice was cool, knowing, as if to prove that he could still read your body language after all these years. But the cockiness in his smirk only angered you more causing you to hiss, “I don’t owe you anything, Mr. Barnes. Now if you wish to keep your hands attached to your body, I recommend you letting me go. Now.”

Bucky chuckled at your threat but only continued to dance with you, even going so far as to pulling you tighter to him, as if proving that your threats meant nothing.

“I’ll let you go when I’m good and ready, Ms. L/N. But first I have a few questions for you.”

“Well I have a question for you. What the fuck are you doing here?” You spat, hoping your tone would show that you were only seconds away from completely losing your cool. Again, your tone and your threats seemed to do nothing to Bucky as he shrugged lightly and responded.

“Didn’t you hear? Stark Industries and Barnes Inc. have been connected for years. One would think a corporate lawyer would have done her research for the company she works for,” his voice was teasing but his eyes were serious and the pit in your stomach returned at the realization that by moving back to New York with Stark Industries you had unintentionally opened yourself up to Bucky and his ‘family.’

So that’s how George knew I was a lawyer…he’d talked with Tony…Tony and I are gonna have to have a real serious conversation after this…

“Now that I’ve answered your question you can answer mine, what were you doing with Liam Stinson the other night?” Bucky quipped, pulling you from your thoughts. You tried not to let the confusion show on your face at his question and instead attempted to goad him a little.

“Why? Jealous?” You cringed internally at the juvenile way you’d shot back at Bucky, but didn’t let that embarrassment show on your face. Instead, you focused on his eyes. They always told you how he truly felt when you were younger but now they were merely two balls of steel blue sat on his face, not conveying a twinge of emotion.

“How could I ever be jealous of him,” Bucky sneered as he spun you around before pulling you tight to his chest again, “only one of us has ever truly known you….”

Your anger bubbled over at what Bucky was insinuating and you ‘accidentally’ misstepped and stomped on his foot in the process. The brief stint of pain was enough to distract Bucky and allow you to stagger out of his arms. “Fuck you, Barnes. You don’t get to speak about me like that. You don’t get to touch me. If I want to go on a date with Liam fucking Stinson I will. And there’s nothing you can do about it.” Bucky straightened himself up, his eyes aflame with an emotion you couldn’t quite read.

“Liam fucking Stinson,” he growled before taking a step closer to you, keeping his hands to himself in fists by his side this time, “is dangerous, Y/N. You’d do well to keep away from him.” Something in Bucky’s eyes flickered as he spoke the last part, something akin to pain, before his harsh mask returned.

Your mouth twisted into a sneer at his audacity to speak to you like he knew what was best for you, “I’ll do. Whatever the fuck. I want,” you bit before whirling away and heading away from Bucky. Not looking back once at the man you left on a crowded dance floor.

Your heart thundered in your chest as you made your way to the born, requesting an Old Fashioned as soon as possible. Downing one. And another. And another. The booze coating your stomach as a way to try and drown out the sound of your heart in your ears. Bucky must have left, or at least he didn’t approach you for the rest of the night. And at some point between Old Fashioned 1 and 2, you pulled out your phone to let Liam know you’d see him tomorrow…and the week after that…and the week after that.

Because what better way to get James Barnes out of your head than by doing the thing he’d warned against?

a/n 2: Also, if there are any grammatical/spelling errors in this chapter, I apologize! I’m not feeling 100% today but I wanted to get this out to yall before my ridiculously busy work week!

taglist:

@youlightmeupfinn

@la-undercover-latina

@niki-is-a-thing

@gloriouspurpose01

@wintasssoldier

@crazyunsexycool

@the-fool-who-jingled

@missvelvetsstuff

@enchantedbarnes

@asoftie4bucky

@theluvcafe

@snufflet

@some-lovely-day

@mochie85

@fangirlvoice

@juulle987

@fab-notfat

@jackiehollanderr

@hallecarey1

@sherlockstrangewolf

@lokisasgardianvampirequeen

@tripletstephaniescp

@potatothots

@desert-fern

@dhoruwolfie

@emmabarnes

@sky0401

@broadwaybabe18

@thebuckybarnesvault

@wallace02sblog

@youngblood199456

@a-small-blue-nebula

#mafia!bucky x reader #mafia!bucky x yn #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x yn #angst #smut eventually #lovers to enemies to lovers #bucky barnes fanfiction #BuckySimp101 #everything the light touches fic

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torra-and-the-toons · 1 year

Text

Welcome to my Cartoon Blog!

Torra | she/her | 1992 | Autistic | Fan Artist & Author

Hello! If you’re reading this it means you’ve found my blog! Just a few things before we get started that you should know about me and what I do here.

I post about whatever cartoon is tickling my brain at the moment, and I flit between hyperfixations like I’m playing duck-duck-goose. Ed Edd n Eddy is the only fandom I have major projects in, but I partake in a lot of other fandoms too. So just know, if you follow me for one fandom, it’s bound to change.

I ramble a lot. I tend to voice my thoughts out loud randomly into the void that is tumblr just because I like to talk to whoever may be listening. If that’s not your thing, you may want to block the #torra rambles tag! Don’t worry, it won’t hurt my feelings. I know it’s not everyone’s cup of tea and I want to do my best to make this blog enjoyable for all kinds of people.

My askbox is open, but I no longer take requests or answer head-canon related questions, but I’m happy to say hi. No Anons anymore, sorry.

If you’re just here for my art, I suggest looking for #torrasart. For any art I posted before February of 2024, I used #my art, #my doodles just FYI, but mass post editor was too confusing to change it, so I left it as is.

I try to be generally sfw, but I might still post/reblog suggestive text posts occasionally, tagged #suggestive, so minors beware...

I don’t want to have to block anybody but I will if I have to...

Please keep in mind that I have a full-time job that takes up a majority of my time and energy, but in spite of that I’m working as hard as I can to bring these projects to life. I also have pretty bad ADHD, which effects my ability to stay focused, but I’m trying. All I ask is for your patience and understanding. 💖

Ed Edd n Eddy Stuff

At the moment I have a few serious projects that I’m working on: My fan-comic, “In the Ed,” my fanfiction, “In the Sky of a Million Stars” and my most recent venture is just my unnamed Torra AU where I unleash my weird furry self-insert/OC into the cul-de-sac like a lunatic because I can’t make normal human OC’s.

IN THE ED

Horror AU, Supernatural Themes, Trigger Warning for blood and possible gore, Content Warning for language and violence.

"Nobody knew it existed. In fact this was the first time anyone had set eyes upon this hilltop manor for quite some time..." Four years after the events of the Big Picture Show, the Eds and friends find themselves in a brand new, death-defying adventure that's sure to shift the genres.

tags: #in the ed comic, #wip shot, #in the ed refs

This fan-comic is also on Ao3 for slightly easier readability!

Introduction Page!

CHAPTER 1: Peach Creek Manor

[1-5] [6-10] [11-15] [16-20] [21-25 (coming soon)]

IN THE SKY OF A MILLION STARS

Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Trigger Warning for Suicide Attempts, Content Warning for language and blood

Eddy has always been a man of many fears, but above all else, his greatest fear has always been the inevitability of growing up. Now, with adulthood staring him in the face, he just can’t take it. Why couldn’t things have stayed the way they were? AU where the BPS never happened, and Eddy struggles with the changes happening around and within him. Loosely based on the song "One More Light," by Linkin Park.

tags: #a million stars fic, #a million stars art

Follow it on Ao3 to get the latest updates!

Torra AU [not official name, and no banner image yet]

Comedy, OC, Content warning for language but overall trigger-safe, I think. Unless you have a fear of tigers

tags: #torra oc, #torra au, #torra and the eds

The Isaac Saga [no banner yet]

Comedy with some hurt/comfort themes.

A collection of comics and drawings about the cat I made for Double Dee named Isaac.

tags: #isaac the cat, #small things with great ed

Small Things with Great Ed Part 1

[pages 1-5] [6-10] [11-15]

#pinned post #long post #I've wanted to revamp my pinned post for a while now

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farfromstrange · 10 months

Text

Chaos Theory | Michael Kinsella x Reader

Chapter Nine: I Want You

Masterlist ° Chapter List

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Michael takes care of you after a long day at work.

Warnings: Mentions of sex, but other than that fluff, fluff, FLUFF!

Word Count: 5.7k

A/n: This is so sweet y'all. I wrote some real domestic shit here and I am so excited to share this with you. I re-read it a million times and added even more fluff until I decided it was okay to post. Also, I said on AO3 that we have about 2-3 chapters with fluff before the Angst Train takes off again. The next one is a little angstier, but there is also a lot of fluff in there, and you're only going to start hating me after Chapter 12 :) If you want to be tagged or I forgot to tag you, let me know! (AND LOOK AT MY smiley little baby AHHH)

You find yourself at work when it finally happens.

Your phone pings and you look down to find two messages on your screen. One is from Michael, and when you open it, you have to stop yourself from laughing because why is he sending you a picture of your unicorn mug with a double espresso in it?

You store it away to answer later. The message that matters most to you is the one underneath. Maya’s name stands written over your lock screen and you have never opened your texts faster.

‘Dad gave me my phone back. Going on the field trip on Saturday. Got my friend to vouch for the money. They agreed. Thank you again, so much <3 Love you.’

You almost cry out of pure relief. You do cry, in fact, but just a little. A stray tear slides down your cheek from the corner of your eye.

Hearing Sarah’s footsteps, you quickly wipe your cheek and stuff your phone away, knowing that you’re not allowed to use it during work hours, let alone behind the counter.

“Girl, there’s this lad in the ‘no work’ section,” she says, clearly not noticing the tears in your eyes. “He’s like, so hot. I’d fuck him.”

You’re not even surprised anymore when it comes to your friend’s ability to have the most random conversations.

“Oh yeah?” you say, “Is that why you chose to personally bring him his coffee this time?”

“If ya looked at him, ya’d understand.”

You brush the wrinkles out of your apron and refocus on the dishes that still require to be washed after the first crowd of tourists came in and managed to ruin the three-hours worth of cleaning from the night before.

Truth be told, you couldn’t be any less interested in the customer she mentioned, and you don’t plan on checking him out. A few weeks ago, you might have. It used to be your favorite thing to do, battling about who gets to treat the good-looking customers that came into the café. But for you, that is over now. You don't need it anymore.

You found your good-looking customer a few days ago, and you would prefer to stay with him.

“What, not even an interested glance?” Sarah asks.

You shrug. “Why should I?”

“Because he’s hot–“ she breaks off into a gasp. “Oh, girl! You are down bad.”

You look away to hide the blush on your cheeks. “Shut up,” you retort, using the red towel next to the sink to dry the first few mugs from the rack.

She eyes you before stepping closer and pulling your shirt aside. You frown at her bold move, but after spending so much time together, you no longer have boundaries.

Sarah roams her eyes over your neck and the little bit of cleavage you’re showing. The hickeys are bright purple now, the edges slightly red where the blood is just starting to pool and she gasps again. She makes it sound as if she found out the most scandalous piece of information and you’re the main attraction in this case.

“You’re walkin’ ‘round with hickeys now?” she asks, her voice hushed yet loud at the same time.

It sounds like she’s squealing, almost, but you’re not sure if it’s positive.

“What are ya, fifteen?”

You pull away from her, pulling your shirt further up to cover at least the imprint of Michael’s lips on your breast. The one on your neck is for everyone to see; you didn’t bother covering it up, you’re embracing it, and you considered taking a picture to drive him crazy at home. If only he knew the glances you’ve received throughout the day, he would be at the door in a second, caging you against the wall and–

Sarah calls your name, her fingers snapping in front of your face. You blink out of your haze, your cheeks even redder now as the arousal floods through your body and meets with the yearning between your legs.

She was right; you are down bad.

“These look brutal,” she comments, but now she doesn’t seem as angry anymore.

Maybe Michael is growing on her.

Instead of berating you, she leans her hip against the counter and smirks. “Did ya have sex last night?”

You bite your lip. It feels weird to be talking about it because your love life has been non-existent for a very long time and you forgot what it’s like to tell your friend about good sex, but Michael is exceptional in bed and he never leaves you dissatisfied. It’s something you should brag about and yet it’s so intimate, something special between the two of you because every time you do it, it’s different. There’s not just unbridled desire between you, the emotions are just as raw and they make the experience so much more intense.

You sigh softly when you think about the feeling of his lips against yours, your neck, and the rest of your body. His hands burn their marks into your skin. The way he sounds, smells, and feels. You can’t tear your mind away from the man he is, and he is all yours.

Sarah’s smirk widens into a grin. “Oh, yer gettin’ dicked down every night now, huh?” she says. “And you’re enjoyin’ every last minute of it. I bet yer thinkin’ ‘bout it right now.”

“You know,” you say, trying to somehow save yourself, but it’s futile because she’s right; you are thinking about him right now. Snapping out of it, you continue, “You are very invested in my sex life for someone who claims she doesn’t like the guy I’m sleeping with.”

“Yes, I am a hypocrite, but I’ve noticed that you look a lot… happier, and if he’s good in bed, I mean, why shouldn’t I profit from these stories? I’m chronically single. Doesn’t mean I like Mister I’m-A-Mobster, but if his cock is good–“

“I don’t like the thought of you thinking about his cock.”

“Alright, alright, just let me have a little somethin’. I just want to know some details. Bread crumbs. Just a taste. Please? I don’t want his cock, but I want to know more about it, if ya know wha’ I mean.”

The corner of your mouth twitches as you lean in, wanting to keep this as private as possible. “Well,” you say, a mischievous glint appearing in your eyes and reflecting in the mug you’re polishing right now, “My dining table suffered a little last night, and I’m not talking about spilling food.”

Sarah gasps again, burying her head in her hands. “Oh, my God!” she as much as shrieks, and you have to squeeze her shoulder to stop her from causing a scene.

“Yeah,” you chuckle, and it sounds almost proud.

What have you turned into?

She claps her hands excitedly. “Did it break?” she asks. And she almost looks disappointed when you tell her that no, it didn’t break. It only squeaked a little and left scratches on the floorboards after you were done fucking on it like wild animals. But that’s all that happened to your precious dining table.

“It should have broken ‘cause that’s the best kind of sex. If it doesn’t, yer not doin’ it hard enough.”

You snort. “Let’s just say he knows how to make me come,” you say.

She smirks. “Like hard, or–“

“Mhm.”

“Does he cuddle after sex? Be honest.”

“The cuddliest.”

“Aw, man!” She fans herself. “What else?”

“Well, the way he does it… oh, Sarah, if only you knew.” You sigh. “So good.”

Her eyes widen, hoping you will spill a little more than a few mysterious bits and pieces, but then your lips curl up and she knows she has been defeated.

“That’s all you need to know,” you say.

“Ugh,” she says, “You’re boring!”

She pouts when you turn away from her to treat the next customer who just came in.

Passing by her as you prepare the order, you halt to whisper something into her ear, “If you give that hottie your number, you might get good sex, too. Maybe even some morning cuddles like me. This café turns out to be a great match-maker.”

Seeing her face, it’s clear that Sarah considers taking your advice the second it leaves your mouth and reaches her ear.

You have an excellent day. After Maya’s text, there is seemingly nothing that can ruin your mood. The customers are all nice to you and you give them your best smile, which results in a lot of tips. You can already see a brighter future for your bank account, considering Ava allowed you to close up shop at the end of the day and do some overtime to add some more hours, and you have never been more grateful.

You promised her you wouldn’t get overworked so easily, but when you’re finally done cleaning the café, your feet and back hurt and you’re almost too exhausted to even make your way home. But you still do because your thoughts flick to Michael and you know you won’t be alone when you get home. That’s all that matters to you when you make your way to your car and drive home.

Slowing down at the gas station, everything seems normal again after the shooting except for the police taping locking the place down for business, but you don’t feel as much threat coming from it now that the worst is cleaned up.

Hearing that Michael’s family was involved in the shooting shocked you to your core, but death doesn’t scare you, it hasn’t for a long time, and neither does violence. What scares you is the fact that it is so damn messy, and you don’t fully understand the magnitude of the life he grew up in and his family continues to lead.

You don’t appreciate violence, so you don’t appreciate them making a living with the suffering of others – with bloodshed and drugs. It must eventually grow sad and lonely, right? It must be traumatizing. Michael is traumatized. He lost so much to his name and now he’s broken. You can’t imagine the others not feeling that way unless they’re psychopaths in which case you never want to meet them.

They’re dangerous and you should stay away, but Michael does not fit on that roster. And somehow, when you think about it, you’re more curious now than ever about what the Kinsellas have got to hide.

With every step up the stairs to your apartment, your feet grow more tired. You just want to get out of these clothes and these shoes, maybe take a hot bath to get rid of the ache in your muscles, and sleep. You have been so wound up and in your head thanks to Maya and your incompetent family, you didn’t notice how awful you have been feeling.

You open the door, almost crying from how exhausted you are. Only after closing the door and locking the deadbolt, do you notice that the apartment is rather warm. Your heater doesn’t always work perfectly, so it’s often too cold. Tonight though, you can feel the comfortable heat of candles and a working heater hug you as soon as you step inside.

Then you smell it. The softest whiff of pasta and garlic lies in the air. You sniff, trying to make out if it’s your neighbor’s cooking or coming from your kitchen. When you hear the clanging of utensils ahead of you, you realize that it’s not just anyone making dinner in the complex, it’s Michael. In your home. For you.

He somehow got the heater to work and still turned on a few candles to make it more comfortable for you before you got home. Now you want to cry even more because it is just so considerate, no one has ever done something of this magnitude for you before – and it’s somehow only the bare minimum.

You leave your coat and bag by the door, slowly walking down the hallway toward the kitchen. “Don’t get startled, I’m not a serial killer,” you say.

Michael’s head whips around when he senses your presence, his frown quickly turning into a smile. “Hey,” he says. “Yer home.”

Home. It’s a normal thing to say, but he’s referring to your apartment, the one he is staying in, and now he even cooked for you. It feels like he belongs here now, with you.

He’s wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and a cozy, green sweater. You remember it from the first day you met. The color reminded you of the cloudy Dublin weather, but also the grass whenever it rains.

He smells good, you can tell it from where you’re standing, once again reminding you of ground coffee beans, rain, and Michael. It’s his unique scent that draws you in the most. It’s woody, almost, but also holds a certain whiff of leaves in autumn and the feeling of the soft summer air during a clear London night. You can’t explain it; there are too many sensations when it comes to him, and none of them can be put into words.

“You okay?” his gentle voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

Your eyes are a little wider than usual, cheeks already flushed from the warmth as you look around. “What’s all this?” you ask, your voice carrying a soft, quiet tone.

Michael frowns. “Dinner?” He smiles shyly. “I thought I’d, uh, make you somethin’ ‘cause ya said ya had to work late again today, so… Sorry, I–“

You raise your hand. “I’m not mad.”

“What?”

“I’m… you did this?” Your eyes soften even more. “For me?”

“Well, yeah, who else would I be doin’ this for? Wouldn’t cook dinner all fer myself, that’s kind of… tha’ would be a lot.”

“Michael, I…”

“Are you sure yer okay?”

With silent steps, you approach him. He follows you with his curious gaze, eyebrows furrowed as he tries to read you. You wrap your arms around his neck in answer, pulling him down into a kiss.

He smiles when he pulls away. “Hi,” he murmurs. “What was tha’ for?”

“Being you,” you say.

It warms your heart that he went out of his way to make you dinner. He made sure the apartment would be warm enough for you because you hate the cold and he notices how much you freeze at night, and how much you rely on his body to provide heat. But you were always too proud to get someone to look at your heater, so he took a look at it for you and found an easy fix. He did all of that without batting an eye, using his time alone for good, and you’re not sure how to react to that.

“Your heater had a few loose screws,” he answers your unspoken questions. “Fixed ‘em, now it’s warmer. And your tomatoes were ‘bout to go bad, so I decided I’d make some spaghetti ‘cause that’s the only thing I remember how ta make.”

You place your hands on his face, stroking the faint blush on his cheeks. “Thank you so much…”

“Ya don’t have to thank me, love.”

“Yes, I do. That’s not something I can expect, especially not after such a short amount of time together. I mean, I haven’t always been completely open with you and that would be turn-off for a lot of people, and it would prompt them not to cook dinner or- or fix my heater. I’d totally get it if you didn’t trust me and tell me now that this won’t work out, but I–“

Michael shuts you up with a sweet kiss pressed to your lips. You’re quick to stop rambling, the softness of his lips moving against yours eliciting a warmth that comes from deep within and not from outside, and it reminds you that you’re home. It’s not the apartment that makes it feel that way, it’s home.

Ever since you moved to Dublin, you had been searching for a place to call home, but your four walls have almost just been an apartment, and you struggled. Now that Michael is here with you, you feel less stranded and alone and more like you’ve finally found somewhere you belong – and that is his arms and his lips, offering you a sanctuary and a home.

Your eyes are still closed when he pulls away. “I want ya t’be comfortable ‘round me,” he says.

You can feel his hot breath fanning across your face, his fingers painting delicate patterns on the back of your neck where he is holding your forehead close to his.

“Michael, I–” you begin, but the words elude you.

“Shh,” he shushes you with his index finger against your lips. “It’s okay. Let’s just… have dinner, and then I’ll run ya a bath, and then we’ll watch a movie. I wanna be with ya. I don’t care if it takes a day, a month, or a year fer ya to open up ta me ‘cause I have so much left to tell ya, too; as long as I get to be with ya and get to know who you are, that’s all I care about.”

You nod in response, unable to find the right words. You have always been just a caretaker and telling people the truth has never become important before because no one cared before, but he does. With Michael, it seems that you have found someone who sees you for who you truly are, flaws and all. You have found a home. In his eyes, you're not just someone who exists solely to take care of others. You're worth more than that, and he's taking care of you for a change to prove that to you.

With a quivering smile, you brush your thumb against his cheek, cherishing the warmth beneath your touch. "I... I want that too," you finally manage to say.

He leans in and kisses the pad of your thumb. “I know you do,” he says.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but–”

“Shh, let me take care of ya. You’d say the same thing ta me right now. And don’t say no ‘cause we both know ya would.”

Your shoulders slack as you sigh. He’s right; you can be quite the hypocrite sometimes. He smiles when your protests die down and takes your hand to lead you to the table.

Watching him, you are amazed by how natural he looks moving around your kitchen. He’s in his element, and you mentally add another talent to his list – he seems to be an excellent cook, or he can at least stand his own in a kitchen, which is something not many can say about themselves.

With a shy smile, he places the pasta in front of you. Michael put in the extra effort to plate the food well enough to make it look as delicious as it smells. You decorate coffee cups for a living, you know the eye of the beholder plays a big role in how food and drinks are consumed, so you appreciate it even more that he used herbs to garnish the spaghetti.

“I’m not the best cook,” he begins.

You glare at him from across the table, grabbing your fork. “It smells good,” you tell him. “And I’m sure it tastes just as amazing.”

“If it doesn’t, we could still order pizza.”

“Michael, darling, please stop expecting the worst from yourself whenever you create something.”

“I can’t help it, I–”

You shush him, digging into the pasta and taking a huge bite as if to prove to him you would still eat it even if it tasted like trash. You love cooking and you often do so for others because it is therapeutic, in a way. You used to cook for your sister all the time, and you would help your mother when she couldn’t. You used to make dinner for the whole family to prevent confrontation or any unnecessary violence because the fear was greater than hunger, and so food became a means for survival in more ways than once.

You don’t like to dwell on the past, but there is a reason why you often cook for yourself rather than order takeout; you don’t know any better, and that’s also why in every relationship you have been in, you were the sole provider when it came to breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

Having Michael cook for you is something you never thought you would experience, let alone enjoy, but the second the delicious taste of tomato sauce, garlic, and spaghetti meets your tongue, you are in heaven.

“It’s made with love,” Michale murmurs, “I hope that’s enough.”

You reach out and gently touch his hand. “This is…” you lick your lips. He is an amazing cook, he even exceeded your expectations. “It's delicious,” you say. “And I don't just say it because I like you. This is really good.”

His eyes light up. “Really?”

“Yes, really. This is probably the best fucking pasta I’ve ever had.”

“It’s an Italian recipe,” he says, slowly beginning to curl his own spaghetti around his fork. “Birdy brought it home with her after one of her trips and she taught me ‘cause Anna, when she was still little, I mean, loved pasta more than anythin’...” He chuckles. “So I thought I should learn how to make spaghetti, but I always thought… well, never mind.”

“You thought everyone was just pretending to like it for your sake?” you ask.

He shrugs. You must have hit a sore spot. Nodding, you return to eating your pasta, enjoying every last bite with a soft smile playing on your face. When you meet Michael’s eyes, he’s watching you intently, his hazel eyes carrying a look you haven’t seen before, and it makes you frown.

“What?”

“Nothin’,” he quickly looks away, flustered.

“Tell me.”

“It’s nothin’, I just… I can’t believe yer here.”

“Well, I am very real,” you say as you finish your last bite. “And you just cooked me probably the best dinner I have ever had in my life, so… not getting rid of me that easily, Mister Kinsella.”

His chuckle resembles a giggle and the sound swells your heart. You look over your shoulder, standing at the stove now and filling your plate with some more pasta. “What?” you ask.

“Hungry?” he teases.

You poke your tongue out at him. “Fuck off! I didn’t have the time to eat today.”

“I’m not judging.”

“You better not.”

“Lucky for ya, there's plenty more where tha’ came from.” He gestures to the pot on the stove. “Help yourself.”

You add another spoonful of sauce. “Oh, I intend to,” you say.

“And I encourage ya to do so.”

You sit back down across from him, your legs now crossed, and you dig into your second serving with enthusiasm. Michael watches you throughout.

“Was it stressful?” he asks eventually. “Work, I mean.”

Swallowing the bite in your mouth, you shrug. “It was pretty tame today, actually, compared to yesterday’s mess, but I was in pretty early and then I had to close up, so it’s been a long day.”

“You shouldn’t be overworkin’ yerself.”

“I’m okay.”

“Maybe you should ask fer fewer hours, hm? If I do happen to get the job, ya won’t be as understaffed and—”

“I asked for the overtime,” you cut him off.

Your words hang heavily in the air as he processes your words, then immediately frowns when they start making sense in his head. “Why?” he asks.

You finish your plate and set it aside, shrugging. “Needed the money,” you say.

His frown deepens. “How much?” His hands pat his pockets as if he’s searching for something, maybe even his wallet.

You raise an eyebrow. “Michael, you don't have to…” The last thing you want is to take money for him without him knowing why you're short this month.

He interrupts you, still. “Please, just tell me,” he says. “How much?”

You sigh. “Fine,” you relent. “It's not that much, just a couple hundred quid. But that's why I asked for more hours. It's just to make rent due this month. Please, don't–”

You’re not sure why the most human struggle embarrasses you so much, maybe because he doesn’t know the full story, and maybe because he thought you had somewhat control over your life and now he realizes that you don’t. It makes you feel utterly pathetic.

He looks at you so softly, you want to cry. He pulls out a roll of money and places it between you on the table. You don’t even want to know where he got it from, a feeling of unease spreading through your body.

“I don’t have rent to pay,” he says. “I got that from… well, doesn’t matter. Point is, I got that after I got out and was still searchin’ for a job, and then I started with Amanda and I… I don’t need it. I have some stashed away for emergencies, and if yer strugglin’ to make rent due, then you need it more than me.”

If someone from his family gave him the money, it surely is connected to drugs or any other kind of crime they use as their main source of income. He notices your hesitation and the bewildered look in your eyes, and he sighs, sliding the money back to his side.

“I get it,” Michael looks down at his hands, “Ya don’t want it because of– Sorry.”

You reach out and gently place your hand over his, stopping him from retracting the money. “No, wait,” you say. “I'm sorry. I appreciate your kindness more than you know, but…”

“I don’t want ya to question where it came from. I get it, trust me.”

Your lips curl into a sad smile. That’s what you’re doing; you are questioning where it came from and if it could get you into trouble if you were to pay this money into your bank account. You’re questioning if Michael had something to do with getting this money in the past, or what his family did to get that batch in the first place. It looks like a lot of money, and part of you wants to take it because it would help your situation, but your common sense speaks louder than words. Besides, you don't know how to accept help even if it’s served to you on a silver platter.

“This isn't because I don't trust you,” you feel the desperate urge to add, “This is just me… and the fact that I’m just as confused as you are, and this…. I can’t take your money, no matter if it’s from your family or not. I have to find a way to get back on my feet on my own. Somehow… I can make rent due. I have to.”

Michael gently takes your hand and places it over the money. “Yer gonna work yourself to death,” he whispers. “I just… I just want t’ help ya. If it makes you feel better, I will pay all of yer bills and your rent, you don’t even have to touch it, but I can’t watch ya do this to yerself longer than ya have to.”

You meet Michael's eyes. It's both overwhelming and comforting at the same time how concerned he is. His offer is tempting, and a part of you wants to let go of your pride and accept his help. But another part of you is fiercely determined to stand on your own feet. You don't want to be dependent on anyone ever again. But it's money, and it isn't as easy to come by as you originally thought when you first moved across the sea.

You bury your face in your hands. “I don’t want to be a burden to you,” you admit quietly.

“Yer not,” he says, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder. “Please? Can I help ya just a little?”

Taking in a deep breath, you nod.

“Is tha’ a yes?”

“Yeah,” you answer huskily. The unshed tears in your eyes are burning, your body exhausted and overly sensitive.

He smiles, getting up and walking over to your side of the table. “C’mere,” Michael urges, his arms already outstretched for you. “Let me hold ya. Yer exhausted.”

The comforting scent of his cologne envelops you as you place your head against his chest. He embraces you tightly, his strong arms holding you as close as he humanly can, you let out a soft whimper. His hands work their making over the sore skin of your back, and you find yourself falling further into his arms until all you can feel is him. You can smell him, hear his heartbeat and feel his breath tickle the crown of your head as he leans down to kiss your scalp. You lose yourself in the feeling and for a moment, you allow yourself to breathe, shaking off the weight of the day and the days far before that.

“Thank you,” you whisper, your nails clawing at his shirt. “For everything. Just… thank you.” He caught you when you were falling, and you are still not quite sure what you did to deserve this kind of devotion.

Just as you took care of him, he is taking care of you now; isn’t that what a relationship should look like? You heard about it, but you have never experienced it before he came along, but you know you don’t want to live without it anymore.

He keeps his promise of running you a bath. The hour you spend in the tub of warm water and bubbles soothes the ache from your muscles and offers your feet some sweet relief. Your favorite candles adorn the side of the tub and you sink further into the bath, wanting to be consumed by this cozy feeling forever.

The door opens eventually after a gentle knock, and Michael comes in to check if you’re still awake – it’s sweet that he wants to prevent you from drowning, which you appreciate because knowing you, you would fall asleep in the bathtub and fight for your survival later.

He settles down at the edge of the tub, gazing over you. You reach out to take his hand.

“Wanna come in?” you ask.

“If ya want me to,” he says.

“Always.”

“Okay.”

Michael sheds his clothes and you watch curiously as he undresses. You move a little to make space for him behind you, and he slides into the tub with you.

You lean back against his broad chest, his arms encapsulating you instantly. You sigh. His warmth matches the one of the bath water and you find yourself hulled into a serene state of mind that doesn’t happen very often to you.

He strokes your arms and your hair, getting some of the strands wet that you tried to tie out of your face, but with him so close to you, you don’t mind. You relish in the gentle intimacy of your moment together, and even he seems to relax visibly behind you, his muscles slacking as he pulls you fully into him.

His heartbeat thuds against your ear as you turn a little, listening to your favorite lullaby. His chest moves your head up and down with every rise and fall.

You’re content.

You spend some more time in silence together before the water runs cold and you are forced to get out. You get up first, wrapping yourself in a towel. Michael watches your every curve with a gentle smile on his lips, and maybe he’s a little flustered seeing you so effortlessly naked moving around him as if you have been together for years.

As you brush your hair and tie it back up into a bun, he gets out, too, and dries himself off. You don’t talk throughout, you simply share stolen glances and soft smiles, his arms wrapping around your waist and hugging you once again. You speak through the language of touch and you both know how to translate.

Later that night, he makes some of the Popcorn he found in your cabinet, and prepares some drinks while you settle in on the couch with a giant blanket that covers you whole.

When it comes to picking a movie, you find yourselves at a crossroads because you share very not-so-similar interests.

“Just put on what you want,” you say.

“No,” he retorts, “That defeats the purpose of a movie night.”

“But I don’t want you to be unhappy.”

“As long as I have ya in my arms, I can never be unhappy.”

He makes you blush with his comment and you cave, putting on a movie from your watchlist. It’s a new one, something Netflix just put out. A rom-com. Michael is not a fan, but he settles in next to you anyway, pulling you into his chest.

The blanket lies over you both as the intro of the movie starts, and fatigue instantly settles over you. His hand cradles your head close to his heart, his other arms draped around you. He’s your rock, quite literally.

You cling to him, your body succumbing to the exhaustion of the day and the mental turmoil you have been in the days before. It all falls off your shoulders in his arms and you find yourself gradually sinking deeper into the pits of sleep before you can even taste the buttery popcorn he prepared.

His fingers move along your scalp, massaging the skin, and that’s the moment when you begin to clock out completely. Your eyes roll back. You lose yourself in his touch and his gentle whispers in your ear, the stupid comments he makes about the movie you can barely pay attention to, and your eyes flutter closed.

Looking down, Michael notices that you have drifted off to sleep. A small smile forms on his lips. As he’s turning off the tv and adjusting you so he can carry you to bed, the sudden movement startles you.

“I’m awake,” you slur, your eyes open, but your mind still asleep.

“Shh,” he cradles your head and places you back on his chest, “I’m just movin’ ya to bed,” he says. “Go back to sleep, love. There ya go. Good girl.”

You close your eyes again, your consciousness slipping once more.

Michael lifts you up and gently takes you to bed. Tucking you in with the same loving touch he's always had, he makes sure you're comfortable first before even thinking about himself. You nestle into the softness of the blankets, his warmth still lingering on your skin. As he pulls away, you instinctively reach out, afraid he might slip away if you don't keep him close to you.

He climbs into bed next to you, and as soon as he's next to you, your body curls into his. “Don’t go,” you murmur. “Stay.”

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you in closer as your bodies mold together, fitting perfectly like two puzzle pieces. “Always,” he whispers. His lips find your forehead. “I'm right here.”

And he won’t be going anywhere, that much he promises.

Tagging for this Series: @bellaxgiornata @mattmurdocksscars @ms-murdockswift @your-not-invisible-to-me @shouldbestudying41 @glowstick-lesbian @acharliecoxedfan @roseallisonparker @norestfortheshelbywicked @1988-fiend @loveroftoomanyfandoms

#michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x you #michael kinsella fluff #michael kinsella #michael kinsella angst #michael kinsella fic #kin amc #charlie cox #reader insert #chaos theory

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fandomgirlz01 · 2 years

Text

Lightsabers and Guitars Pt. 2

Charlie Gillespie x Reader

Imagine on my fandom instagram?: No

Prompt?: No

Request?: No

Requested prompt?: No

Edited: Yes

Word count: 5,445

Ko-fi

Masterlist

Warnings Here

You can listen to the story be read out loud here.

Post Date: August 8th 2022

Post Time: 12: 32 pm

Summary: When the reader gets tired of being around her friends she tries to leave and ends up finding herself in a fight with one of those friends. Reader then stomps off and finds a quiet place {she believes nobody else will be there} where she can practice swinging her lightsabers. What happens when she and Charlie stumble upon one another? Will they become friends? Or maybe something more?

PSA: I am still learning Guitar so I’ll write it as best as I can for you guys. I just looked up the chords and wrote those, but I am unaware if they are the official chords so bare with me here. If you guys know that any of them are wrong please please please consider letting me know and I will fix it as soon as I can.

Y/n’s Pov:

“Knock knock. Is y/n in there?” Siana asks as she taps on my forehead, effectively snapping me out of my mind.

“Yeah. Sorry. I just have a lot on my mind,” I answer as I shake my head and yawn, then start to pour myself some juice.

“I’m sure you do. It’s been about a month you’ve been seeing this Charlie now,” she taunts as she smirks, wiggling her eyebrows at me.

“That’s not what it was at all,” I verbalize as I feel my cheeks heat up.

“Oh, you're so blushing right now! So that’s a total yes! You were thinking of him!” she shouts as she pokes my cheek with her pointer finger.

“No, I wasn’t-” I start to reply, but my phone stops me mid conversation as my text tone goes off.

“Is that Charles as your text tone…” she continues to tease and I roll my eyes.

“Yes… he insisted on it so I’d know it was him…” I explain as I lift it and it lights up.

“That’s actually so, so cute,” she coos and I roll my eyes.

“We’re just friends…” I reply as I smile while replying to his text and she shrugs.

“Don’t listen to me… but honey, he most definitely likes you… I bet today is the day he makes a move. Hell, he’ll probably do that whole arm around you to show you the chords thing…” she remarks as she does some weird hand gesture, making me quirk an eyebrow at her.

“Ok… what the hell was that hand motion?” I ask her with a giggle.

“What! Isn’t that how you play a guitar!” she shouts and I giggle, shaking my head.

“No. That is definitely not how you do it. Charlie would cringe so hard at whatever you just did,” I explain as I wave at her and she shrugs.

“Well, whatever. I’m not the roommate who’s into that stuff, that’s you,” she waves her hand in dismissal and I laugh, shaking my head.

“Yeah. Yeah. Imma go shower now…” I gesticulate over my shoulder and she rolls her eyes.

“You're showering to go to the beach? Oh! Wait, it's for Charlie isn’t it?!” she questions, but then quickly changes to a declaration and I roll my eyes.

“It’s so for Charlie, isn’t it! So you do like him! I was right!” she says as she happily claps before starting to push me to my room.

“Go! Go shower and pick the cute red bikini. The one that brings out your eyes…” she declares and I guffaw at her.

“I can’t pick that one!” I exclaim and she gives me a look of confusion.

“Why can’t you?” she asks almost like she’s offended.

“That one’s far too sexy for me!” I exclaim and she guffaws at me.

“Honey, sexy is what you want in this situation,” she explains as she goes into my closet before returning with the red number.

“Are you sure? Cause I really like him…” I finally admit as I play with my fingers and she claps.

“Sweetheart, listen to me! I’m the one who gets most of the guys,” she explains pointingly as she sits down next to me.

“I know… it’s just this is the first real guy I’ve been around after my whole swearing them off thing…” I nervously explain and she nods.

“I know. Your last relationship wasn’t the best. But hey! Maybe you waited three years for Charlie. Maybe he’ll be better then stupid Greg,” she remarks before giving me a grossed out look.

“Oh, he’s definitely better than Greg,” I agree and she smiles.

“See! So isn’t it worth it to see where this thing will go?” she asks me and I sigh before nodding in agreement with her.

“Yeah. I guess it is…” I agree with my own smile.

“Well, go get in the shower then!” she declares as she again pushes me towards the bathroom.

“And wear the red piece!” she yells from the hallway and I giggle, shaking my head.

~ Time Skip ~

I pull up at the beach and turn my car off. After taking a moment to look over myself one last time, I start to get out of the car. Once I’m out, I pop my trunk before going around to get the practice sabers out along with my backpack and old guitar.

I close my trunk and look around once before locking my car. I then walk to our spot where we meet up every week. I set my bag down by the wall before looking around for Charlie.

After looking around, I don’t see him so I just sit against the wall and take my phone out. I text with Anna for a bit before a dog comes running up to me and starts to lick my face. I start laughing as I pet Koa and Charlie comes up behind him and pulls him away from me.

“I am so sorry. He must be really excited to see you today,” Charlie explains as Koa runs off to the water.

“It’s ok. Really. I’m glad to see him too,” I reply with a light giggle.

“So, which are we practicing first today?“ Charlie asks as he now sets his stuff down by mine.

“I was thinking we could practice the guitar, then sabers. That way we can go for a swim after getting all sweaty from the sabers,” I explain and he nods before opening up his guitar case.

“Ok. So did you practice the chords that I taught you last week?” he asks as I bite my lip and nod lightly.

“I did practice, but I’m still having a little trouble with them,” I inform him and he nods his understanding.

“Ok, then we’ll start there,” he decides out loud and I nod before pulling my guitar onto my lap.

“Ok. So put your fingers on your chords and I’ll help you fix what’s off,” he explains and I nod before starting to try and place my fingers right.

“You almost have it. Just this finger goes here and this one goes here. It’ll feel a little foreign at first, but I promise the more you practice this song it’ll just start to feel natural,” he explains as he moves my two fingers into place.

“Now try playing the chords,” he orders and I nod before sticking my tongue out and trying to play the chords right.

I play the first two right, but then both me and Charlie cringe as one sounds completely off. I take a break with a huff as Koa runs up to his daddy and licks his hand. Charlie chuckles before petting his baby’s head and after a few minutes, Koa seems satisfied when he runs off again.

“Ok. Play it again, let me hear it and see what’s up,” Charlie tells me as he watches and observes as I place my hands back onto the chords.

Again I play the first two right, but as I play the next one it sounds off again. I giggle when I see Koa cringe.

“I take it even Koa doesn’t like how that chord sounded,” I state and Charlie chuckles before looking over my guitar.

“I think your guitar may be out of tune again. Good time to practice tuning it then,” he notes and I nod as I pull out the little tuner I bought at the beginning of last month.

I put it on the end of my guitar before starting to try and tune it like he taught me to. Once I think I have it, look up at him.

“You think you have it?” he asks and I nod.

“Ok. Let me see,” he comments before I hand him the guitar.

He plays a few chords before fixing one or two of the pegs. Once he’s done, he looks up with a smile as he hands me back my guitar.

“You did good. I just made a few small tweaks,” he explains and I nod with a smile.

“Ok. Let’s try the chords again. You got this,” he tells me with another smile.

“Ok Luke…” I joke with a roll of my eyes and he smiles.

“So you watch Julie and The Phantoms then?” he asks with a grin and I nod.

“Oh, I most definitely did. I also watched Speed Kills and Love You Anyway,” I tell him and he blushes lightly.

“Well, what’d you think?” he asks and I give him a serious look.

“I thought they were bad…” I deadpan as seriously as I can.

“Oh…” he falters and I giggle as I shove his shoulder.

“I’m joking. I loved them. Especially Speed Kills. I got to see teenage Charles. What’s better than teen Charles?” I jokingly ask and he gasps with his eyes widening in surprise.

“That was so mean! Umm, maybe 23 year old Charles!” he exclaims, rolling his eyes as he crosses his arm like a child would and I giggle again.

“Mean is my middle name. Didn’t anyone tell you? And… I guess 23 year old Charles isn’t so bad…” I tease, bouncing my eyebrows at him and he shakes his head.

“What will I do with you, huh?” he asks and I grin before winking at him.

“I don’t know, love me maybe…” I trail off with a giggle and he shrugs.

“What’d you really think of them though?” he asks seriously now and I smile.

“They were great Char, but I definitely like Speed Kills more than Love You Anyways,” I explain and he nods as I smile when I see a light blush come over his face.

“Why’d you like Speed Kills better?”

“Ok. Each has its own qualities, but I like more action. Love You Anyways was a little slower. And don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love romantic movies, but action is just so much more thrilling,” I explain. “Especially when you're single and a hopeless romantic that nobody really has eyes for.”

“Hey. That’s not true… I’m positive there’s some guy out there for you,” Charlie declares and I smile as he blushes lightly.

Why is he blushing?! Omg…!

“Well, thank you. If you're confident about it, guess I can be too,” I agree with a shrug and he grins.

“Also John Travolta is in it, duh. If John Travolta is in it, it’s an amazing movie hands down,” I continue and he chuckles.

“John Travolta is THE sexy Danny Zuko. Who wouldn’t like a movie with the man in it,” I express and he chuckles, shaking his head again.

“Well I won’t say you're wrong. That man is a legend,” he agrees with me and I grin.

“Right?!” I beam as I look over at him and he smiles.

“What was he like to work with?” I ask and Charlie chuckles.

“He was great. He literally took me under his wing while on set,” he tells me and I smile.

“That’s so cool. Danny Zuko showed you the ropes,” I beam with a smile and he chuckles.

“What’s your favorite of my works then?” he asks and I smile.

“Actually, it’s Julie and The Phantoms. A good second is Runt, even if you're only in it for like, point fifteen seconds,” I joke and he chuckles with a smile.

“Yeah, I had fun on both. In Julie and The Phantoms I made so many friends that became like family. I’m sure you’ll get to meet them soon,” he explains and I grin as his passion shines through him.

“On Runt, we all just acted crazy when the tougher scenes were done. Cam was always the head of the crazy-ness, but he was also the calmest on set,” he explains as his face changes to one of pure sadness.

“I’m sorry he passed. I did hear about it. It must have been gut wenching,” I sympathize as I set the guitar to my side before scooting a little closer and laying a hand on his.

“It was. His heart was always so open. I remember being like ‘bro, I watched this kid on TV…’ He was so nice to everyone he was around. It was crazy… I really wish you could meet him. He’d like you,” he tells me while getting choked up and I smile as I rub his back now.

“I’m sure I would have loved to meet him,” I quietly agree with him and he smiles a watery smile.

It’s quiet for a while as we both just watch Koa play in the water. He sniffles for a few minutes and I lay my head on his shoulder as I continue to rub his back. Koa comes running back over to us and he plops down in front of Charlie.

I let out a light giggle when Koa’s head tilts to the side as he looks over his dad. He walks over and nudges Charlie’s hand. Charlie lets out a light chortle before petting his dog on the head.

Koa nuzzles his head into it with a little face of contentment. Koa then rolls over and closes his eyes as Charlie pets his stomach now. I find myself suddenly perking up, pushing my head off his shoulder as I think of a way to make him smile.

“I will say the fans of Julie and The Phantoms got a real treat in Episode 2. 4 minutes and 44 seconds in, but who’s counting…” I try to flirt with him, but fail miserably when he turns his head and looks at me.

I still count it as a win though when he slowly grins and I try to push my blush down as I clear my throat. I turn away for a small moment to hide my blush as I pick the guitar back up and lay it across my lap.

It’s like when I actually try while looking at him, I fail it every time… ugggh dumb idiot… at least it made him smile.

Koa lets out a whimper as Charlie stops rubbing his stomach. Unsatisfied with him, Koa lets out a loud huff as he shakes his head. He gets up, making me and Charlie laugh as he runs back over to the water.

“So you have the time I take my shirt off memorized then?” he playfully jokes as he bounces his eyebrows at me and I feel the blush rush quicker up my neck again.

“Correction, Siana does. She has a thing for abs… a thing that’s way over the top if you ask me,” I admit with a shrug of my shoulders, but he just gives me a coy grin.

“So you don’t like my abs?” he coyly asks and I groan, rubbing my face.

“No, you have very nice abs… I’m just saying she’s the one that paused it… I’m going to shut up now…” I try to explain, but my tongue only starts to do what it always does as I spiral and stick my foot in my mouth.

“Well I’m going to take the compliment. Thank you very much,” he jokes with a chuckle and I groan again.

“You enjoy making fun of me, don’t you?” I whine out, only making him chuckle again.

“Sorry sweetheart, but it’s so very fun,” he responds and my stomach flips at the nickname.

“So unfair!!!” I cry out and he laughs like full belly laughs at me.

“Oh, hi baby!” I exclaim, putting the guitar down as Koa comes up to me now and I pick him up.

I cradle him like a small baby and he nuzzles into my stomach as I lightly rub his stomach like his dad did just moments ago. I hear a chuckle, making me look up to see Charlie watching the scene practically with heart eyes.

“What?” I ask him and he scoffs playfully.

“You treat him like a real baby,” he points out and I grin.

“He is a baby!!! A sweetheart of a baby,” I point out right back and he chuckles, shaking his head.

“He loves you more than me at this point and he’s my dog,” he exclaims and I giggle as I continue to rub Koa's belly.

“Daddy’s just jealous, isn’t he?” I ask Koa who now has his tongue stuck out.

Koa lets out a bark and Charlie scoffs, rolling his eyes. I look back up at Charlie as I set Koa down on all fours and he runs off again.

“I am not jealous…” Charlie denies as he crosses his arms and I giggle.

“You so are. Let’s get back to the guitar now? Yeah?” I ask as I once again pick it up and he nods.

“Ok. I’m going to try those chords again,” I tell him as I place my fingers back to where they are supposed to be.

I start to try the chords and again I play the first two right, but the next one comes out sounding off again. I huff again before quickly putting the guitar down to the side. I bring my knees up and wrap my arms around them before leaning my forehead against them.

“This is no use. Maybe we should change the song. I don’t think I’ll be getting it anytime soon…” I muse as I put my chin onto my knee while I watch Koa.

“We don’t have to change the song. You’ll get it. It’s ok to mess up a whole bunch of times,” he explains as he puts his hand on my back and starts to rub it.

“How?! Huh, Char?! We’ve been working on it for a month and I’ve been stuck on this same chord practically the whole time,” I bark out in anger at myself and Charlie just nods.

I look at his face and he seems upset. I sigh as my anger disparates and I slowly start to feel guilty.

“I’m sorry Char. It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. It’s me who can’t get it,” I quietly mummer and he quickly shakes his head.

“No, no. It's ok. I’m not mad, I promise. It’s not your fault. It’s ok to be a little upset. Learning something new can be hard sometimes,” he is quick to reassure me and it works.

“I don’t know why I can’t get it…” I whisper out as I turn back to watch Koa.

It goes quiet for a moment, but Charlie still rubs my back. Tears come to my eyes, burning them but I refuse to let them fall.

“Here. Let’s try something else,” Charlie cuts into the quiet as he reaches behind me to get the guitar.

“What?” I ask, but he doesn’t reply.

He just pushes lightly on my back and I give him a confused look. He motions for me to move forward away from the wall and I confusedly do. He slowly sits down behind me before pulling me back into his chest and my eyes widen.

He brings his one arm up and over as he pulls the guitar over my head. He rests the guitar in my lap and I relax into him.

“This ok?” he asks me and all I can bring myself to do is nod.

“Ok. Put your hands on the guitar…” he tells me before trailing off.

I do as he tells me and shakily bring my hands up before putting them onto the guitar. He then moves his hands and puts them over mine. He positions both of our hands over the chords before he starts to help me pluck them.

I smile as I finally reach the third chord and pass them each better than I’ve been doing. We continue on like that until we finish the song.

“Oh my gosh. Charlie, I did it!” I beam as I turn back to look at him and he grins.

“See, you got it. I’ll keep helping you and lessen up a little every time. Don’t worry, you’ll get it. Here, I’ll also name the chords as we go so you’ll remember them for other songs,” he explains and I nod as I turn back around.

He lessens his hold just a bit before we start to play again. He squeezes my finger lightly to signal the first chord to me and I pluck it before letting it ring out light.

“This one is A Dm then you switch to a Bb which is a B flat like I taught you at the beginning of last month,” he explains the first two chords that I have no problem with.

“The next one is an F chord and that one becomes a C chord,” he explains again as I play the chords with a grin.

“Then switch back to your Dm and B flat,” he tells me as he guides me back to the first two chords.

“Then back to F and C,” he states as he still guides my hands.

It’s only then that I recognize the song that he’s teaching me. I stop him from playing and he stops before I’m pushing his arms up. I crawl out from underneath his arms and sit up onto my knees as I excitedly grin at him.

“I know the song now!” I exclaim and he smiles.

“Ok. What is it?” he asks me and I jump excitedly.

“It’s Perfect Harmony, the song Luke will never know about…” I start off happily before my face falls.

“Poor Luke will never know, Char,” I burst out as tears come to my eyes and he chuckles.

“You really ship Juke that hard?” he asks and I quickly nod.

“Ok… ok. Don’t nod so hard. Your head might fall off,” he jokes and I groan.

“Boys don’t get it…” I huff as I turn back around and plop back on the ground with my arms crossed.

“Oh! Come on, I was joking. Yes it’s sad, Luke will never know about Perfect Harmony,” he agrees with a playful roll of his eyes.

“Really though, that scene had me crying so hard…” I admit and he grins again.

“I’m glad you liked it,” he adds and I smile before scooting back to be right next to him.

“Can you teach me that dance too?” I ask and he chuckles.

“I mean, I guess. I don’t know if I remember all of Julie’s parts though. I know I remember Luke’s after doing it like twenty times with Mads, but I’m not too sure about Julie’s,” he explains as he shrugs.

“Couldn’t you just ask Madison herself?” I ask and he chuckles.

“I guess I could. I didn't even think about that,” he admits and I giggle.

“I’ll talk to her about it later,” he promises before smiling.

“Wanna continue working on the chords now, though?” he asks and I nod eagerly, making him chuckle as I move back over between his legs.

He grabs the guitar again before setting it into my lap. I put my hands on the neck and body first then he puts his back over mine.

“Ok. Do you wanna start off where we left off?” he asks and I nod.

“Ok well, we left off on the third Dm and B flat. This is the one you’ve been having so much trouble with. I think you just get all switched up in your head,” he explains as he moves both his and my fingers back to the chords.

“Then comes the C and F except before it was C, F so they just switch places,” he continues to explain as his hands still lightly guide mine.

“Now from there you just do that all a second time,” he tells me before just plucking the chord in the same order.

“And there you have the first verse,” he informs me as his hands come away from mine for a moment.

“Really, that’s all it is?” I ask and he nods.

“Do you wanna try it on your own now?” he asks with a light grin.

“Yeah. I know you're here if I need you,” I agree and his grin widens.

“Ok. Let’s see it then,” he agrees before pointing at the guitar that’s still in my lap.

I wonder for a moment if I should move or if he will, but when he stays I decide to just stay too. I then position my hands into the first chord before plucking the chords by myself this time.

Same as the last two times, I get the first Dm and B flat and the F and C out perfectly, but when it comes up to the third Dm and B flat, I have to concentrate a little harder. I finally get it and I smile as I stop and excitedly look at Charlie.

“I got it!” I exclaim as I grin and Charlie nods with a proud smile of his own.

“See, I told you ya would. Now there’s nothing to it, you have the whole first verse down,” he points out with the smile still on his face.

“Ok! Let’s keep going!” I excitedly sit back down and he chuckles.

“Ok. The chords are mostly all the same, just played a little differently, ok?” he asks me and I eagerly nod, making him chuckle again.

“Do you want my hands or just you?” he asks and I smile brightly at him.

“Yours for the first time, please. Then I’ll try it on my own,” I ask and he nods as he brings his back up to be over mine.

“Ok, the first part of the chorus is the F. Then you’ll give a B flat,” he explains as he again shows me the chords and I focus on trying to memorize them, but his chuckle pulls me out of my focused state.

“What?” I ask and I feel him shrug from behind me.

“You're just super cute when you focus,” he admits and for the millionth time today, I feel the heat run up my neck as I blush.

“What’s so cute about me when I’m focused? If anything, I think I look dumb,” I note and he chuckles again.

“Nope, it's definitely cute. You stick your tongue out and kinda space out,” he explains, making me throw my head back against his shoulder and groan.

“How is that cute?!” I proclaim and again he chuckles as he shrugs.

“I don’t know, but it is. And it’s 100% you,” he responds and I lift my head to shake it.

“Sometimes I don’t get you, Charles,” I joke and he just smiles charmingly.

“That’s my charm,” he jokes back and I playfully scoff.

“Charm, my ass,” I mutter and he gasps.

“You don’t think I’m charming?” he asks and I giggle as he playfully pouts.

“Oh, stop the pouting. Your lip will fall off…” I state with a laugh when his mouth falls open.

“Ha! Got you at your own game!” I shout as I poke his thigh.

“That’s not nice,” he grumbles and I giggle.

“Oh calm down, of course you're charming,” I affirm with a fake roll of my eyes as I pretend he’s being dramatic.

“Thank you for admitting the truth,” he playfully jokes and I again roll my eyes.

“Drama queen,” I mutter and he gasps again.

“Take that back,” he shouts as he pinches my side, making me squirm.

“Nope! Not happening,” I joke back and he grins.

“Oh, you wanna play that way, huh?” he asks and my eyes widen.

“Koa! Dogpile!” Charlie shouts as he effortlessly moves so now I’m laying on my stomach with him on top of me.

“Koa. Baby, don’t…” I warn the sweet baby of a dog, but he doesn’t listen to me and hops up onto his dad's back.

“Koa! You betrayed me!!” I shout out with a giggle and Koa just tilts his head to the side.

After a moment of looking at me, Koa jumps off Charlie and comes around to me. He licks at my face and I giggle as Charlie pushes him away after almost ten licks or more.

“Ok. Koa, I know you're sorry,” I coo at the dog as he sits before me.

“I’d pet you, but I’ve got a lump on top of me right now,” I tell the dog and Charlie gasps again.

“You did NOT just call me a lump,” he retorts and I giggle.

“Oh, I 100% did. What ya gonna do about it, huh?” I admit as I finally get myself turned around.

“This…” he remarks and before I know it his lips are on mine.

I let out a small gasp as it was a surprise to be kissed by him. I really wasn’t expecting it, but that being said I wasted no time in returning it. His hands rest on my hips as my own arms wrap themselves around his neck.

My hand treads into the hair at his nape and I massage his neck with my other thumb. He deepens the kiss and it isn't how I expected the kiss to be; no fireworks or sparks or anything that ignited something within me, but there is something else... something indescribable, a sort of happiness that flows through me like a warm buzz. Yes, definitely better than the fireworks.

It lasted for a while, us kissing, wrapped up in our own world before it was rudely interrupted by a bark that made us pull apart from one another. We both laugh as Koa squeezes in between us to lick both of our faces. Koa then runs back over to the water and Charlie smiles lightly as he sits up and pulls me with him.

“So. I was wondering if maybe you’d like to go out with me?” He asks as he pushes some of my hair back and plays with it.

“Depends. Where, you taking me?” I ask jokingly and he grins.

“So that’s a yes?” He asks and I playfully roll my eyes.

“No. I’m just asking where you're taking me for the fun of it. Of course it’s a yes Char,” I joke and he chuckles, shaking his head.

His thumb rubs my cheek as he continues to grin at me. I smile as I lean into his hand as I reach up with mine and grab onto it. I close my eyes for a moment before opening them back up to see him looking at me with a gleam in his eyes.

“Can I kiss you again?” He asks me and I giggle.

“Ever so polite Charlie…” I joke as I look into his eyes.

“You don’t even need to ask bubs. Just kiss me,” I whisper out and he nods.

His other hand comes up to my cheek as his lips land on mine and I smile as he tenderly holds me. Our lips mold together as I hold onto his wrists. All to soon though he slowly pulls back before putting his forehead to mine.

“Wanna skip the lightsaber work today and just go for a swim then maybe cuddle while we watch the sunset?” He asks as I turn and sit back against the wall.

“Sure. We can dedicate next week to sabers. Can we finish the song before swimming though?” I ask and he grins as he puts his arm around my shoulder.

“I’d say that sounds reasonable. As long as I can steal a few of these from you,” he replies before leaving a peck on my lips making me smile and cuddle into his side.

“Works for me. Steal as many as you’d like,” I agree and he smiles as he rubs the top of my shoulder.

We sit cuddled up for a little while longer before finishing off practicing the song. Then we go for a swim and Koa plays around where we are. Once our swim is up we both get out and grab our towels before drying off a bit.

Charlie walks over by our stuff and lays his towel out before turning around to look at me. He motions down to the towel as he gives a light bow making me giggle.

“After you Angel,” he offers and I once again grin.

“Don’t mind if I do,” I remark with a giggle as I walk past him before taking a seat on the towel.

He sits down next to me and again puts his arm around my shoulder. I lay my head on his as he pulls me slightly closer and together we watch the sun go down behind the horizon letting our night end on a very positive note.

To Be Continued…

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tic-loud-tic-proud · 1 year

Note

Hi! I heard something in class today that sounded absolutely wild, and it wasn't said by an individual that I have any trust in regards to mental health etc (they literally said that adhd is contagious which uh. not getting into that krkskdje), but I thought I'd ask around in case there's any truth to it since I don't know nearly enough abt tourettes to say for certain its untrue. Basically, they said that their psychology student friend did a research paper and found that seeing tik toks of people with tourettes can make kids (I believe the psychology student's study group was 7 yos or something around there) get tourettes too. Now, I believe that tics can be "contagious" (like stims) aka u have tourettes and can then get a new tic from another person w tourettes, but nothing in their claim said that these kids previously had tourettes, just that they got it from tiktok. Do u know anything abt this? Is it completely ridiculous or have you ever heard anything abt this happening? No problem if you don't know or arent sure, its a pretty out-there idea (from my perspective), and I hope it isn't a horribly annoying q. Have a nice day!

I've answered this question multiple times but Tumblr search sucks and I can't find any of the posts. So even though I hate talking about this topic I'll do it again.

(My answer is really long. Some text is bolded, not for emphasis but to make long paragraphs easier to read.)

The whole "TikTok tics" thing has completely torn the TS community apart with infighting (you can read more of my opinions on that here). My own neurologist is one of the leading doctors studying the phenomena, and trying to convince people to stop calling them "TikTok tics" and use the term Functional Tic-like Behaviors (FTLBs) instead.

I want to start by saying anyone who has sudden-onset tics, or tic-like behaviors, needs to see a doctor as soon as possible. There are many cases where sudden-onset tics are a result of untreated brain injury, heavy metal poisoning, and severe nutritional deficiencies. Tourette Syndrome is far from being the only disorder that causes tics.

Most of my followers know that I dislike TikTok. At the same time, whether a person with TS wants to post videos about their life on the platform, is none of my business. I am very grateful to people that are spreading accurate information and awareness about TS to people that otherwise wouldn't care. I do believe that despite many creators' best efforts, negative stereotypes are starting to arise again- some that I've never even heard of. The "all Tourettics say swear words" stereotype is as prevalent as ever, but so is the "if a Tourettic says swear words they're faking" stereotype. I've even heard "real people with TS can't hold eggs or read books out loud or cook" stereotypes which are completely new to me. TS is never one size fits all. It's different for everybody.

What I do dislike about TS related videos on TikTok is that many of them go back to seeing us as entertainment. I have always struggled with being seen as a spectacle, I have very strong trust issues because of this. I know even some of my dearest friends think my tics are entertaining, which, I don't want to blame them for that, some of my tics can be funny, but TS itself isn't. People with TS are not clowns, we are not performers, we are not here to entertain anybody.

I don't think that TikTok causes Tourette Syndrome, because TS is never contagious, it's a defect in the brain that we are born with. I believe that this issue is very complicated and influenced by a number of factors. Nearly all of the people who are developing FTLBs are young women or transgender individuals who already face misogyny and transphobia, which both often incorporate the belief that young women/transgender individuals will constantly lie in order to gain attention. In addition to that almost all of them already suffer from severe mental health issues- depression, social anxiety, eating disorders, and body dysmorphia mostly. Because of quarantine and the pandemic, more and more people went online more often.

Humans are social animals. We all feel a need to be in groups. I believe a major part of this issue is that young people especially are figuring themselves out and need to feel a sense of belonging. If a person's "For you" is nothing but videos of people within a certain group (not even just medical communities, but goths, emos, metalheads, and other fashion- or music-based subcultures are experiencing this), you will feel left out. I'm absolutely not saying that this is the fault of the people watching or creating these videos, I'm blaming it on the exploitative algorithms that TikTok and other social media websites use to funnel users into generally obscure niches. Many industries thrive on the consumers' feeling of being left out so this method works very well and makes money for the platform.

I would highly suggest reading this article that goes more in-depth to the causes of "TikTok tics". Social media is far from being the primary cause. This isn't the first time we've had a "Tourette's outbreak" either, and it probably won't be the last.

To answer your question of "have you ever heard of this happening", yes, unfortunately I have first hand experience. My ex-girlfriend claimed she suddenly caught Tourette's from me and now has a TikTok account where she spreads misinformation "awareness" about Tourette Syndrome. She would write down my vocal tics in a notebook whenever we were around, claiming she just thought "they're so funny I want to remember them", and then would go home and film TikToks pretending to have the same tics she'd written down beforehand. She's a terrible person for many reasons and I could probably spend some time talking more about her but I know nobody is interested in that.

What's most important is that anybody with tics, anybody with TS, anybody with FTLBs, still deserve support and proper medical care. At the end of the day this is far from being an individual issue. It's shown some major flaws in the (American) healthcare system, that doctors are so quick to dismiss and ignore the real suffering of young women and transgender individuals. Every single person with tics is impacted by this issue (directly or not). Accusations of faking are at an all-time high, and it's getting harder and harder for me and many other Tourettics to trust people (again, see this post). I have friends and people close to me, diagnosed with TS, who are being accused of faking by their own doctors, and are having their diagnoses under review. In 2021 (which I consider the height of this frenzy) I went to the #1 TS specialist in my country after being on the waitlist for 3+ years, and even she questioned my diagnosis and told me that I would be cured if I deleted my (non-existent) TikTok account.

Just a week ago a young man with TS who was very popular on TikTok died as a result of a tic. For years he had struggled with TS and for years people had accused him of faking. TS is serious. It's not a trend.

Every single person deserves compassion. Every person deserves a chance to be believed, to be listened to (even my ex). Nobody deserves to have their legitimate concerns shunned and ignored, especially by medical professionals. Whether someone has FTLBs, Tourette's, PANS/PANDAS, FND, or any tic-causing disorder, we deserve help. We deserve our experience to be heard. We deserve to be believed.

#long post #this is the last time i will be addressing this #tourette syndrome #tiktok tics #fakers #fakeclaiming #jfc its christmas eve and i spent an hour of my life writing this out

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little-bit-of-everything-tbh · 1 year

Text

Fake boyfriend..?

Bakugou Katsuki x reader x Kirishima Ejirou

Read first: announcement

Read next ^^ - here

Tw: cursing, also maybe some spoiler

Things you should know:

1. I will follow my storyline, there may be some spoilers! I will not focus on anime storyline, sure it will be there but I will focus on my storyline mainly.

2. I decided that this will be story, I don't know how long it will be, how much chapters will it have, I'm doing all this spontaneous and I just hope to have a good time writing this, and I hope you have a good time reading it!

3. No hate! If you don't have anything nice to say don't say it. I accept criticism but not hate thank you very much.

4. This is my first time actually posting what I write so please don't be too harsh on me :>

5. Reader is going to be using she/her and will be referred to as female

6. I may or may not change name of this story because I'm still not sure what to call it. If you have any suggestions you can comment or put it in my ask box or whatever it's called I'm still trying to figure out things here.

7. And the most important! Have a good time reading this. If you have any suggestion of how can I update this story/chapter don't be afraid to text me or comment or whatever!

Part 1 - 2 weeks before U.A High

Kirishima is my best friend. We met when we were little and we were practically inseparable, and, if we're being honest, we still are.

Now it's about 2 weeks before end of the middle school, and we're sitting in class talking about what high school we want to access. We were supposed to choose what school will that be like 10 times till now but I still don't know! I'm indecisive so it's hard for me...

I groan to myself and hit my head on the desk but it doesn't go unnoticed from person behind me. That's when i heard it—

"Pssst!" and a little poke to my back.

I slowly turned and I made eye contact with scarlet eyes that belong to my one and only best friend - Ejirou Kirishima.

"What?" I asked not in a mood to talk.

"Have you thought about that thing?" He asked all excited and happy.

"..." I broke eye contact, not answering.

"C'monn what's the worst thing that can happen if you choose it??" He insists.

I was quiet for a few more seconds and then I answered him.

"Fine, I'll enter for that stupid school" I said and rolled my eyes at him, not even a second later grinning from ear to ear.

"YES! You will not regret it y/n! I promise! We will go and be heros together. Man, i can't wait..." he then started mumbling to him overexcited self about how its going to be the best time ever, or something like that.

I just laughed a little and turned around waiting for class to be over.

When the bell finally rang for the end of the class it was lunch time.

"Yess babey! Lets go eattt!" I jumped and hyped up Kirishima to hurry up with getting his things.

"Jeez, y/n, calm down. I'm coming im coming!" He said getting his things in hurry.

"That's what she said!" I laughed out loud and exited the classroom waiting for him outside.

After a few second he exited as well and I 'boo'-ed at him scaring him.

"Jeez! You were dead 5 seconds ago and now you're all overjoyed!"

"I knooww, but now I get to eat, so I'm not grumpy" I laughed.

He just rolled eyes at me and continued to walk.

When we got in cafeteria someone yelled my name. I looked right and left only to find one and only girl who could yell my name in the middle of cafeteria. It was non other then pink alien girl - Mina Ashido.

"Hey Min!" I waved at her like fucking sims - getting my hand all the way up and then waving maniacally.

She came over and we started making small talk until we got our food and sat down at the table.

"So." Mina said shortly and clear.

We looked at her in confusion, then at each other and then again at her.

"So what?" Kirishima said while I was drinking my chocolate milk.

"Are you two together yet??" She asks and get up all excited, expecting for our answer to probably be yes this time.

We just rolled our eyes and i groaned.

"Mina, if you're gonna hang out with us only to try and get us together then we can't be friends bestie" I said half sarcastic half honestly.

She fake sniffed and just answered, "but you have to get together ONCE ALREADY"

"Yeah, but Mina you're trying to get us together almost 3 years now. Please stop for our and yours sake too" Kirishima said and I nodded agreeing.

She huffed, rolled her eyes and just said "Fine"

Later on we just had some small talk while enjoying our food. When lunch was over, there were some boring classes and I almost fell asleep like 3 times, but every time Kirishima poked me with a pencil, and whispered for me to 'stay awake'.

When last class was finally over, Kirishima and I walked out of school talking.

"So tomorrow you're going to train with me" he said

"What? I did not anticipate in that!" I disagreed

"Well, you didn't do any training all this time, and you have about 2 months before the exam. You better start as soon as you can." He reasoned.

And he was right damn it. "Fine. We'll train tomorrow, text me about time and place okay?" I asked and he just nodded.

"Will it be hard training?" I asked, not really wanting to die out there.

"You'll see" he said and just chuckled.

Great. I'm gonna die out there.

#bakugou x fem!reader #x reader #xreader #anime #boku no hero academia #katsuki bakugou #ejirou kirishima #mina ashido #bakugou x reader #kirishima x reader #my hero academia #fake boyfriend..?

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chenyann · 2 years

Text

A bat like roommate!!

Lilia vanrouge

Have you heard the rumor of the bat like roommate?It was said that y/n had lost their old roommate and is looking for another,After posting online that you were looking for a roommate a boy answered your ad,a strange boy moves in y/ns life turns upside-down!Now let's take a peek of what it's like living with a strange boy named Lilia vanrouge!

cw: gn!reader, crack & fluff, sfw, unfinished and lousy editing. F/n= friends name Stay tuned for the next rumor...

A new message

As you were typing away on your laptop your phone let out a loud ding.

1 new message from f/n

"Heyyyyy y/n I just had a great idea!!"

You groaned as you looked at that message, thinking about what your friend had to say.

[What is it???]

You sat your phone down waiting for a reply,typing away at a post you made on magicam.

Your phone made that annoying ding sound again;god you really need to change that notification sound.

1 new message from f/n

"So you know how you've been looking for a roommate, I think you should make an ad!"

You sighed,sincerely F/n could be really dumb at times making an ad means making alot of strangers have a chance to know your address and possibly stalk or kill you,but you digress.Was it really such a bad idea; I mean nobody is gonna drop from the sky to be my roommate….you pondered what you should do and after taking a sip from your water you came into terms.

You're gonna put up an ad.

You texted your friend as she gave you support and you put up the ad.

Hello,I am looking for a roommate,I live in a apartment by NRC there is a spare bedroom with a connected

Bathroom 1090 sq.Ft we have walk-in closets,a small private balcony,dishwasher and internet there is a gym and pool on the apartment complex (which is animal friendly)

Water, internet,electricity and the bill will be split by us, if you want a roommate and like these terms please dm me!

You cringed at your own post and hoped nobody would see it,you let it go as you went out to your friend's house to go give her a whole essay on how her idea was corny.

After being gone for what seemed like hours actually it was just for 40 minutes you had notification in your inbox from 'Muscle red' that's a stupid name you thought as you read his dm.

'Hello, my name is Lilia and I read your ad about a roommate,benefits of living with you seem very decent,I would like to know more about the apartment.'

After talking to him you decided to let him move in.He can't be that bad, what's the worst that can happen!

Another flower

Woken by a knock at the door you grumble to yourself as you walked to the sound opening it to see what looked like an emo 8 year old, oh wait that's Lilia.You snapped back to reality when you heard a snicker from the door,"well look who is prepared, are you really gonna help get my stuff In your pajamas?"

Yep he is gonna be a problem, from that very moment you knew he was gonna be a weed in your little ecosystem you have in your head.Lilia had this vibe about him,A vibe of a old man hiding in a grunge aesthetic.He made no time to poke and prodder at you,making snide comments to you every-so-often.Every Time you shut his Q&A session down it made him even more determined to 'bother you'.

Lilia didn't make no plans to stop pestering you, infact he has been asking you dozens of questions every ten minutes."so why did you want a roommate?" He had a cheeky grin, a cheeky grin you wanted to wipe off his face.

You remind yourself that its temporary, that his existence in your life will end sooner of later so you should stop the weed before its spreads.That is if you want to keep that ecosystem you have, to keep your garden of life safe from weeds.You spent years making that ecosystem, making the gardens and the animals;Years of your life spent on it, you won't let a random boy ruin those years of work.

"I needed help paying bills" you said honestly

And that is when it stops🧍‍♀️

Also a rant below on why it's unfinished

I started that post on August 27....And announced it on the 27.....I-i now I know I promised it but um ima just give yall what I have because I know dam well I'm not about to finish this shit💀 and I'm sorry but I just...I haven't felt like making a fic since my last one😭 if I do finish it, then okay yall can have it.But I'm acting like I don't have 4 other fics that I didn't start on soooo Yeah I honestly would maybe go back to this if it was just headcanons but I likely wont💀 I also have 6 drafts 1 of them are a fic I-i don't know anymore,IM TRYING TO GET THEM OUT BUT ITS SO HARD

#lilia vanrouge #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst #twst wonderland #yako going crazy!#lilia x reader #lilia x y/n #lilia x you #Sjkanskakakanakka don't look at me like at #I'm trying #twst fanfic

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gunnythecatmandy43 · 1 year

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LOOKING FOR BETA READER TO READ A FANFICTION OF EYELESS JACK X TRANS MALE READER ! DM ME TO WORK OUT STUFF. Btw I'm posting my 1 chapter here then on AO3 and also Wattpad ya know the normal stuff anyways here his the chapter))

((NAME:"HIT THE ROAD JACK"))

Chapter 1: Prologue

Friday night is a night for people to relax and hang out as any average person would do right? . However, you liked to chat on online websites and put out a few friend ads. Jeez, how sad it was to think that you had to send out ads for new friends knowing that you would probably end up talking to a creep or someone even worse. You stared at your screen waiting for a message or a sense that your ad worked. You put your headset on, then cracked open a can of soda propping your feet up on the table.

After what seemed like an hour, you looked at the screen and stared as a message popped up on the “Happy Friend,” group chat app that you just got a few days ago. You put your drink down and move over to the mouse swiftly grabbing it, you move over to the message with the cursor clicking it now seeing a chat on your screen you open it to see a “Hello” pop up in a blue chat bubble.

You take a sip of you soda and type back a short message

{Name}: “Hi” you yawn, closing your eyes after a moment you hear a ding from your computer, your wandering gaze lands on the message seeing what it says.

(Lucky92): “ Hi, I’m Lucky I saw your ad and I wanted to try and be friends!” you think for a moment then talked to yourself out loud like someone was there,

“Not a bad name..” you text back “Hello Lucky.”

{Name}:``Glad you took interest in my ad. Not many people answer ya know?”

After what seemed like a minute, the girl replied “Yeah I’m just very lonely so why not make a new friend right?” You smiled a bit and typed back “So anything you wanted to ask?” Lucky typed back at a very fast speed “ Yep!, would us getting together in person be alright ..?”

{Name} : “Uh..Yeah sure?”

(Lucky92): “How about tomorrow at let’s say..7:30 p.m. near the woods?”

You felt weirded out and typed back with a uncomfortable feeling

{Name} : “ Well, I’m not a big fan of going into the woods alone with someone I just met at 7:30 p.m..Like a weirdo.

(Lucky92): “But a bunch of people from town are going too so why not go with me?”

{Name}: “But how do you even know where I live?”

You bite your lip looking away you never sent or said anything on the ad showing where you lived.

So how did she know where you lived…

(Lucky92): “…..You sent it out in the ad”

You go back to the ad and take a look, you scan for a moment and let a short breath out. You did leave a link to what town you lived in; it's a pretty small town indeed. How stupid could you be to leave that big part of that information in!

You head back into the chat, and type back.

{Name}:”Sorry, I forgot I added that and forgot to take that out.”

(Lucky92):”Oh, that’s ok stuff happens, but, I do live near you, so will you go to the party with me?”

You seemed a bit worried about what would happen if you said yes, but you had been asked to go to the party by your coworkers beforehand.

You never really paid attention since…. nobody got time for that!

Nevertheless, you decided to go anyway.

You type back in a fast motion with a simple…

{Name}:”Sure.”

(Lucky92):”Amazing,so happy to hear that you’ll be there!”

You look at the text,Your body seems to jump at the thought of meeting a rando online in person.

Both of you say your farewells and goodnights and head to bed,you toss and turn in your bed unable to sleep.

Your mind and body was telling you that you made a big mistake. You kept trying to throw it out of your head,but it stuck to you like gum chewed up old gum. You hoped tomorrow was not as it seemed to be in your mind.

Time: 7:12 Day: Saturday

You wanted to leave early to get a few things at the gas station you may need on the way. Like pepper spray, chips, and your favorite drink with those you were set you looked at the time 7:24, You started running towards the woods when you bumped into a girl half your size.

You looked down spitting your drink out on the ground then looked at her, she had blue hair with pink stripes in it. You thought she was trying to look like those store bought cotton candy you get every now and then which made you laugh a bit.

Your eyes followed down to her green eyes staring back at her. She seemed stopped at words looking up at you.

You seemed to not like the silence making you decide to say something “Cat got ya tongue?” you stared at her eyes wandering your face. You stared at her and thought something was wrong “Um..ya just gonna stare or…”

The girl snapped out of it looking at you “Oh, sorry I was just nervous um didn’t mean to knock into you”

Your mind stopped wandering away and came back to you after she finished speaking.

Then you soon said “Huh, oh no it's my fault I wasn't watching where I was going it’s my fault.” You smiled and grinned while looking at her.

She looked at you smiling back “But um anyways Do you know where this party is?” the girl held up a flyer for the same party you were going to. The shock on your face was just a tiny wide eyed glance. Soon you nodded looking at her “Yeah I’m heading to the same party..” The girl smiles happily “Great, mind if I follow you?” You were a bit weirded out at the fact that she asked you that nevertheless you couldn’t just leave her out here…well you could but you did’t want to be that bitch who would leave a person out here in the slowly coming dark passing over your head. So you decided “Sure why not”

She smiled “Thanks!” she grabbed onto your arm making you cring a bit like she was some kind of weird spec of dirt on you but you let it go just staring at her, Soon both of you started running to the party that soon felt like a death trap to you and will soon turn into a roundhouse kick in the face probably.

#fanfic #creepypasta #eyeless jack #eyeless jack x reader #ideas

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tahanann · 2 years

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𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮

❝ To whoever finds these letters, I hope they reach you well ❞ ✎▫✧⭒....

Fandom: Hetalia Relationship: F/M Pairing: Alfred F. Jones (America) / (Female) Reader Chapter list: 00, 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14 Also posted on: AO3, Wattpad, Quotev

Chapter 03: " I hit homeruns when I was young" ✎▫✧⭒…

(Y/n) had only been reading Jones' letters for a few days, but she wakes up every morning almost giddy to hear a word from him. The woman knew that it was strange for her to feel like this. In fact, she questioned why she was like this, but she never found an answer to it. Maybe it was because it felt like she had company in her new home.

She was growing fond of jones, after reading three weeks' worth of letters. His banter manage to make her laugh sometimes. When she said that Jones was good company, she really meant it. Sometimes Jones would mention his close friends, and how tight-knit they've become ever since joining the army. He's talked about how the days have been warm, despite the war around them.

Jones enjoyed being around his friends, shooting and fighting for a cause that he believed was right. He speaks of heroism in his letters, wishing that one day he too would be regarded as a hero, be it just a family hero or the town hero.

Whenever (Y/n) reads his letters, there's some sort of pang of guilt and sadness nestled in her stomach. It made her sick, but she tried to laugh it off. The woman pitied him, seeing as he wanted so much in life. She doesn't know how his story ends, but she hopes and prays that it won't end horribly.

Another day has passed in the woman's home.

(Y/n) flutters her eyes open as the sun shines in her eyes. The woman sat up from her bed, rubbing her eyes as she yawned. She edges off her bed, put on her slippers, and started her morning routine. As she didn't have work today, she figured that she might spend it with her dad. The old man had texted her earlier in the week, asking if he could come over.

As (Y/n) hadn't seen her dad in a while, she agreed. He would be coming over today. Her mother was busy working anyway.

The lady made her way to her room, fully awake and fresh for the day. She pushes strands of her hair back as she looked through her phone. Her dad might take a while to get her, so...she has time. Hopping off the mattress, she reaches underneath to pull out the box. She picked a letter from the stack and tucked the container back under the bed. She was ever so gentle when opening it.

A smile appeared on her features as she read the greeting.

Good evening babe! Today was a bit eventful! It was a rest day for our group and someone sent out the other soldiers to fight in the field today. The majority of soldiers crowded the radio since they were talking about the latest game between the Boston Red Sox and the New York Yankees! Let me tell you, babe, the amount of cheering and screaming we had tonight was as loud as the soldiers yelling at each other during battle. Even Charles and Alex were fighting with each other! You know how they are. When it comes to baseball, they are definitely rivals. They always like different teams, but as for me? Well babe, Boston all the way! Hey, if you're a fan of New York Yankees, I don't really mind. Well, there might be a few moments where we might bicker, but hey, I honestly hope it ain't serious! Besides, there'll be more sports memorabilia in our home right? Well, I don't want to assume that you like sports and all! We just never really talked about sports when we were together. I don't think I bothered asking, honestly. If I did, I would have taken you to a Red Sox game for a date! Anyway, speaking of sports, and since I have a lot more paper, let me tell you about my sports history! I would have loved to bring it up to you when we were still together, but unfortunately, that didn't happen. I don't think I've ever told you that I was on a baseball team back then! Before my ma and pa moved, we were in Boston, hence why I'm such a big fan of the Red Sox. Got to support the local team you know? Anyway, I actually joined a mini-league in elementary and high school! I dreamed of becoming the best hitter out there! Well, as you can probably see, I didn't really get there. All the academics were catching up to me. Of course, I could have pursued it in college, but with the economics major, it was getting harder to have free time. Maybe one day I'll be able to play one game, especially when I get home. Hey, if you ever wanna try hitting home runs I can always teach you when I get home! I would love to teach you baseball. If you're already a home runner, then, maybe we can compete to see how many home runs we can get. Please continue to take care of yourself, babe. I can't wait to see your next letter. From your super cool and super handsome and super awesome boyfriend, A. F. J.

(Y/n) looked at the letter, specifically at the paragraph where Jones was talking about teaching his sweetheart baseball. There was something crossed out between "I would love to teach you baseball" and "If you're already a home runner..." She tilted her head to the side as she eyed it out. Jones has never crossed out the words in his letters. Most of the time, his writing was tidy, with a few grammatical errors here and there.

What was he trying to erase?

She sat there for a moment, thinking if she should try and uncover what he was trying to say. She was already trying to figure him out, might as well see whatever he covered up.

The woman placed the letter down on the bed and went to turn on the bedroom lights. Returning, she held the letter up in the air, turning it to a certain angle. The light illuminated through the paper, showing the many marks. There it was, the blocked-out text.

"I'd say I still got it, since I've hit a home run with you." (Y/n) arched her brow as she read the lines out loud.

"Are you kidding? that's what you blocked out?" A soft giggle escape her lips as she shook her head. She doesn't know whether she should grimace or laugh more at Jones' pick-up line. He could definitely use some work when it comes to pick-up lines.

It was weird. This was the only letter so far where he's said a pick-up line. Since he crossed that out, he probably read over the letter himself and got embarrassed by it. He didn't have a paper to write the letter over again, so he had to block it out.

A smile appeared on the woman's face as she tucked the letter back in its envelope. She placed it inside a drawer with the rest of the opened letters. She left her bed to get ready to meet her father. As she was still in her pajamas, she figured that she should probably change into more casual clothes.

(Y/n) knew her dad. He was the type of guy to bring her outside, complaining that she should get more sunlight. Her work and her hermit lifestyle made it impossible for her to get some sun. She doesn't know where he's going to take her but she'll prepare her bags.

Grabbing her bag of choice from her closet, she brought it out to the bed, placing everything she needs. Her wallet and portable charger were tucked in the main pocket. Whatever she considered was essential to her trip was tucked in her bag.

She lazed around in her room, browsing through her phone for whatever might interest her. She would stay there for an hour or two until her father called her cell.

"Hey," (Y/n) grinned, "Lemme guess, you're already outside dad."

"Yeah, and I honestly hope you're out of your pajamas because I'm taking you to the mall," (Y/n) father, Raphael spoke. A hearty laugh was heard through the cell as (Y/n) made her way outside.

"Don't worry, I already know you were taking me outside today, dad." She hung up the call and shoved her phone in one of her free pockets. The woman roamed around her home for a bit, taking out plugs from their sockets. It was to conserve energy and lessen the chance of her old home from bursting into flames. She made her way to the front door and locked it once she was outside.

There, parked in her driveway, was her father's car. She doesn't really much about cars, but she knows from her dad that it was an older version of a Dodge Challenger. Somewhere around the '70s. The red hot car revved its engine as soon as (Y/n) came into view. The woman could only roll her eyes before making her way to the passenger seat.

"You're gonna disturb the neighbors, dad," (Y/n) mumbled, buckling her seat.

"This neighborhood is too quiet. Gotta fill this graveyard with something," Raphael joked around. He backed up his car from the driveway and drove forward to wherever. He said the mall earlier but this old man's mind changes pretty often. He might take her somewhere else. Whatever the surprise might be, (Y/n) is sure that it isn't going to be that bad.

Throughout the ride, the woman talked with her father. Most of the time their conversations revolved around how he fared with his new wife and how she was doing with the new house. (Y/n) doesn't have any strong feelings against her father's new wife. It's an ok relationship. As for the house, a few cold spots here and there, but nothing out of the ordinary.

Well for owning an old house anyway.

The car eventually stopped in a parking lot, with the father leaving the car first. He was quick to his feet and opened the door for his daughter.

"Dad-" (Y/n) mumbled.

"Come on, let me be the gentleman this fine evening," Raphael grinned.

The woman rolled her eyes before exiting the car. She walked alongside her father as they approached the giant mall. It was a place she's never been to before. The ride to the mall did take a while. In fact, earlier, she had noticed that they passed the usual way for the local mall. They must be in another town.

They walked around together, with the father spoiling his child just like he had done in the past. Whenever (Y/n) had pulled out her wallet to pay for something, her father always barged in and pulled out his card. Every time he did that, the woman had a defeated look on her face, but she shook it off and laughed.

Raphael carried the many bags filled with both his and his daughter's stuff. They made their way to the food court, but they stopped.

"I've got a better idea. What do you say we go to some buffet or a fancier restaurant!" The bearded man grinned looking at his daughter.

"And walk in looking like this?" (Y/n) smiled, "those fancy restaurants will never catch me wearing just this." The woman tugged on her dad's arm, pointing at the food court. "Besides, we've spent so much already! You wouldn't want Jeanne getting angry at you again for spending so much on me."

"You do have a point," Raphael mumbled, "I mean maybe the new bags can make Jeanne smile."

"Maybe," (Y/n) hummed, "Still, you should probably save money, dad."

The old man nodded his head. He didn't want to prolong his conversation with her. He knew how his daughter is. If she disagreed with him, especially with matters like this, they would go on for hours. She's got her mother's mouth, that's for sure, but that isn't inherently a bad thing. It's what made him love her mother.

Raphael let his daughter lead the way as he carried the many bags. He found a spot for two and he let (Y/n) walk towards the restaurant they would eat lunch at. He messed with his phone, texting his wife saying that he's still with his daughter. The woman would take a while waiting in line, so he figured he could have a conversation with her.

(Y/n) returned with a tray of food in her hand. The young woman knew her father like the back of her hand. Whatever she liked, he liked as well. So their orders were practically identical to each other but each plate had its own twist to it. The old man looked up from his phone and beamed.

"Looks delicious," Raphael spoke.

"Well I hope it tastes delicious too," (Y/n) replied. She sat down in front of her father and gave him his food. The father and his child started eating right away. They were quiet for a bit, as they critiqued the food they ate. They looked at each other, sharing a glance and facial expression.

The food was good after all.

They two continued to eat, each taking a spoonful of their food. They slowed down after a bit, taking in their choice of drink. They shared a glance for a moment. Another conversation was about to start.

"You know you've grown so much. I remember just seeing you and you were this small kid in front of me," Raphael chuckled, "Now look at you. You've grown into a pretty lady. I'm sure you've caught someone's eye."

"Are you kidding?" (Y/n) asked, "Let me guess, you want grandkids don't you."

"Hey hey hey, I didn't explicitly say that." The old man sipped his drink, his (e/c) eyes looking to his daughter's pair. "Come on you're a young woman, you've got to at least have someone in mind."

The woman thought about it. Her mind started drifting to the people that she's met over her life. Most of the people she's seen so far were friends. Fondness, yes, but attraction, no.

"No one, so far, dad." The (h/c) haired woman sighed, swirling his drink.

Raphael nodded and smiled at her. It will take some time for a lucky person to come into her life. He knew it would. If it took him a while to find that special someone, albeit twice, it will for her. He knew not to rush, but of course, like any other parent, his desire for grandkids was really strong.

"Well hurry it up, I want grandkids," Raphael chuckled. He had said it in a tone that meant that he wasn't at all that serious. The old man pushed his graying hair off of his face as he sighed. His eyes connected with his daughter's once more.

"But in all seriousness, don't rush love. It'll eventually come to you if you've been hoping. That lucky person will eventually come into your life, just like how your two moms came into mine, and trust me, goodness, they realization will blow you away." Raphael sipped his drink, almost downing the remaining contents.

(Y/n) only nodded, smiling at her father. She knew how he felt and she couldn't help but laugh lightly. "I know, I know. How many times have you given me this sort of lecture?"

"Lecture? This is hardly a lecture. If you want a lecture, go ask your mom," Raphael snickered.

The two finished eating their food, cleaned up their table, and gathered their things. The father and daughter only stayed in the mall for a few hours, before they retreated back to the car. As Raphael placed their belongings in the trunk, (Y/n) browsed through her phone. She texted a few friends, most were work and close friends before she returned her attention to her father.

He sent her a smile before he looked ahead. He started the car and drove off. (Y/n) assumes it was back to her home. The drive back to her house was rather quiet, but the two found comfort in the silence. Eventually, (Y/n) had turned on the radio, as it was absent earlier. It fills up the air just a bit. The woman started to softly hum along to the music that played.

After a few minutes, (Y/n) started talking.

"Hey dad," (Y/n) said, "Did any of my grandparents ever fight in some war?"

"War?" Raphael mumbled, "There was your granddad that fought in the second world war for Allied forces. Not sure about your mom's side though. Why do you ask?"

"Nothing," (Y/n) sighed.

Her father arched a brow. "You know I'm not going to take nothing as an answer, especially since that question just came out of nowhere." His lips formed into a frown as he side-eyed his daughter.

The woman pursed her lips together as she looked away from him. "Well," (Y/n) whispered, "I found a box of letters and they're dated...they're dated back to 1940s. You know, when the war was happening." She found it hard to speak for some reason. She wasn't sure why. She gently messed with her arms as she tried to find words. Raphael gave her time. He knew she needed it.

Taking in a deep breath, she spoke again. "The letters are from a guy named Jones. I don't know his first name. I only know his last name because that's the sender's name. The letters were never opened and just kept in the house in the box and they were hiding under the closet in my room."

"Let me guess...you opened them," Raphael commented.

"Yeah," (Y/n) breathed out.

"You just unleashed a curse," the old man teased, laughing a little.

"Uh-huh. There's a curse on the house now I guess, and ooooh, a ghost is haunting me now," (Y/n) snickered. She shook her head, feeling a bit better that she got a laugh out. "But seriously, the letters are kinda weird. They're like...love letters or something. Well! Not really like those old love letters that Shakespeare might write or something, but you know, some sappy stuff. I just have this guy's letters to his sweetheart saying that he's excited to start a life with her."

"Did you open all of the letters?" He asked.

"N-No. I'm doing this one by one, actually." She replied.

Raphael hummed, "How many letters are there."

"Enough to read for a year, which is why I'm reading one each day." (Y/n) brushed her hair with her hands. "I wanted to ask if granddad had like...some sort of friend named Jones, but thinking about it now, he probably wouldn't have."

"Jones you said?" Raphael asked, "I dunno if your grandpa did have someone like that. We can't exactly ask a corpse you know."

"That's kinda grim," (Y/n) softly laughed.

"But, hey, I'll look into it. I can't exactly just go off of his initials or his last name but I wanna help you out." With a free hand, Raphael gently nudged his daughter. They shared a small smile.

For the rest of the ride, it was quiet. Raphael pulled up on (Y/n)'s driveway and made his way to the trunk. He didn't help his kid out of the car this time because she had to open the door. A cold gust went through (Y/n), making her shiver. The cold lingered until she moved to flick the lights on. She called her father over and asked him to place the shopping bags on the living room floor. The young lady thanked him before seeing him out the door.

"Hey stay safe alright?" Raphael mumbled. He gently pulled his daughter into a hug. (Y/n) hugged back as well.

"I will, dad." The two pulled away and the old man retreated back to his car. (Y/n) watched as her father drove away from her home. She lingered at the front door again, feeling a gust of cold wind wrap around her form. There it was again.

Seriously, what's with this house and it being so cold.

(Y/n) shrugged her shoulders and went back inside her home, where she stayed for the rest of the day. She did what she could to pass the day. She didn't want to think about the faceless soldier for the remainder of the day. Later at night, (Y/n) found herself staring at her bedroom ceiling. Her mind wandered, peeking into thoughts that drifted. It lingered on one.

Jones.

"You played baseball, surely that'll give me something," (Y/n) murmured to herself, "But then again, that doesn't shorten the list at all. In fact, I bet there are a shit ton of kids with the last name of Jones and played baseball back then." The woman rubbed her eyes as she turned her body.

Softly she sighed. "I feel like I'm chasing someone who doesn't exist. That's probably the case. Maybe this is just some prank from the past owners."

Even if it was, would she stop? No. She doesn't think she will.

The woman drifted off to sleep after she had cleared her mind. The moon gave her company for the evening, giving cool light to her covered form. Soon the morning came and ripped the moon from the sky. Brightly the sun shined. It was a new day, and a new day meant a new letter.

(Y/n) had done the usual morning routine and found herself drifting to her bed, her hands already making their way to grab the box that hid underneath. She opened it gently and plucked an envelope. This marks the 23rd letter.

Good morning babe! I know I didn't write to you for a few days but that's only because we ran out of paper at the base for a while. Some guy was using a lot of the papers to just burn them. What kind of idiot does that? Hey, I may be using a lot of the papers right now, but that's because I've been sending letters to you and ma and pa. I only have a few papers to fill up, so I'm sorry of all the words seem crammed together. I just don't want to write less to you and my folks back at home. Anyway, I'd say I'm feeling pretty good today! Some guy managed to get a few comic books from this bookstore and he brought them back to base. I'd say that it's a feat. I haven't seen comic books in a while and I'm honestly really glad that someone managed to get them in the base! I was super stoked when the guy gave me this special edition of Captain America. Even the boys laughed at me when they saw my face. They said I looked like some kid who just got their first baseball card. Does that sound too childish? If it does, then well, that's just another part to love about me then! I'm not forcing you to love that though, it's just maybe you can learn to love it. Hey if you don't really like comics, that's ok. I don't adore you any less than I do now. The Captain America comic was super cool though. It showed Captain America beating some soldiers down with his shield! He was saving people too. I wanna be as cool as him. Hell, I'm trying to be as cool as him! Being a hero is definitely in style right now, and right now babe I'm going to try and be that kind of hero you can look up to! I told Ma and Pa about the comic book thing already in their letter. I bet they'll even mention how they imagine my expression. They're probably going to compare it to the time they gave me this super limited edition baseball card for my birthday. Once I come home, I'm going to try and see if I can find the exact same Captain America comic and probably save it with my comic book collection back at home. Hey, can I ask a favor babe? I know you're at home right now and I don't know if you like comics or not, but if you can, can you start collecting Captain America comics for me? I can't grow my collection if I'm not there. I'll try and make it up to you I swear! With a lot of hugs and kisses and money too, if you want. Thank you in advance! Continue to take care of yourself out there, babe. From your superheroic and super cool boyfriend, A. F. J.

(Y/n) kept an amused smile on her face as she read the letter. Her brain's gears turn, processing everything he said. He was a comic book nerd and even called himself childish for it. Oh if he were to live in this era right now, he would probably blend in with people who collect manga and the rest of the comic book lovers. He definitely is starting to sound like he could fit in with society right now.

Other than the idea of Jones living in this time, another thought appeared. There were so many things that Jones didn't know about his girlfriend. He doesn't know if she liked pets, sports, or comics. Shouldn't they have talked about their mutual interests before they started dating?

Maybe their relationship was just a spur-of-the-moment thing, where Jones told his girlfriend that he was going to war. In turn, they would start dating for a short period of time before he was sent off.

Oh, the thought was horrible. Being together and then immediately getting pulled apart. The woman has to wonder though, did the girlfriend really love Jones as much as he loved her? He hasn't said that he loved her just yet. Maybe they weren't really in love.

(Y/n)'s lips arched into a frown. Everything her mind just proceeded. It was all terrible. The poor soldier.

She shook off her thoughts and sighed. She knew if she thought about it more, her mood might drop. She mumbled softly to herself as she stood up and tucked the opened letter in the drawer. She looked at it and hummed.

"Jones," she whispered to herself, "whoever your baby was, I'm sure she loved everything you mentioned." It was words of assurance to someone she doesn't even know. Someone she knew was dead. It helped her, though, as she was found softly smiling again. (Y/n) drifted away from her room for the rest of the day, her mind still stuck on the faceless soldier.

#hetalia #hetalia x reader #reader insert #hws x reader #aph america x reader #hws america x reader #x reader #fem reader #alfred f jones x reader #sorry i didn't upload in a while #college was kicking my ass

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hoes4dylanobrien · 2 years

Text

Mets Dylan (AU miniseries) 3/?

a/n: so being in New England myself I may have made Dylan a dunkin donuts kinda guy? Idk if he is tho, but I like the idea of it. LMK if you wanna be on my new taglist for this fic, friends :3

tw: Dylan being cute hungover, swearing

taglist: @roxic93

You idled in the office parking lot, debating whether or not to go in.

You were fairly sure what this was about. The picture that girl posted online that was quickly making headlines everywhere after being taken up by TMZ. You, a nobody, caught in a compromising position with your client, Mets star baseball player Dylan O’Brien.

It was not the best situation to find yourself in, especially after what you’d been trying to do went up in flames. You were more angry with yourself than Dylan, though. He was who he was, which was a womanizing dick most of the time. It was his M.O. He was predictable, in a sense. And that was why you were angry: you should have known better. He was doing what he was always doing, but for you to have gotten caught up in it, in those stupid mesmerizing eyes... It was only a moment, but it may have cost you everything. You knew it didn’t look good (even though NOTHING happened...) but your employer wouldn’t see it that way, and so you felt it was the calm before the storm. The dreadful thought that you may just leave here without a job crossed your mind.

Your phone lit up with several texts then.

A few from friends wanting to know the tea, one from Ray, your boss, that said I know you’re out there, y/n, I can SEE you from my desk... stop picking around and get your ass in here (yeah, your boss was pretty casual with you) and one from He Shall Not Be Named (childish on your part, you recognized).

Can you stop at dunks on the way there, i’m feelin munchkin today

You rolled your eyes so hard they went back in your head. The audacity of the asshole.

He saw you read it, and sent one text after the other:

hello????

answer me

y/nnnnnn

y/n, I can literally see you reading my texts. this is important. need to know my Dunkin's will be there. and ask for extra caramel drip on the macchiato, you know the one

You’d had it up to here with him, and couldn’t help shooting off a quick text.

I’m not your fucking maid or your executive assistant, Dylan. Ask them to get it, or, here’s a concept, get your grown ass your own Mighty Macchiato. You can certainly afford it.

The dot, dot, dots appeared. Then:

see now I'm worried you didnt say iced. You know I don’t drink hot coffee y/n

:((((

You looked up, muted your phone, and may or may not have screamed out loud.

Putting on your big girl panties after a good pep talk to yourself, you approached the front door and step inside. The doorman, Chris, greeted you with a smile. ‘Hey y/n, good to see you. How was the weekend?”

“Oh, you know...same old same old.” You didn’t elaborate. He nodded understandingly, and, judging by the look on his face you could tell he saw the story but thankfully didn’t ask about it. “Yours?”

“My grand baby was home. My daughter and her husband were visiting, so we got some good family time. Had us a good barbecue. DIdn’t want to leave ‘em to come in today.”

“Oh, wow, good for you! How old is she now? Lizzie?”

“Seven,” he said proudly. “That’s wild, I remember seeing her around the office back when she was only three, I can’t believe how fast she’s growing!”

“You’re tellin’ me!” He snorted.

“Well, I’m sure they had a wonderful time with you. Did they leave already?”

"Yeah, Eric - my son-in-law - was needed back at work so they packed up and left early this morning.”

Your phone buzzed again. There were an embarrassingly long stream of texts from Dylan, who apparently thought you were still talking to him, and the boss, who was now calling. He must really be steamed.

“Business calls?”

“Shit, yeah. Sorry, gotta jet. It was nice catching up though!”

“You take care now, Miss y/n.” He winked at your retreating form.

"I’m on my way,” you said by way of greeting as the elevator doors closed behind you.“Good. Because we’ve got a pile of shit on our hands.”

I sighed. “I know.”

“You really screwed up.”

“I know,” you repeated.

He just gave a long sigh, ending the call abruptly.

Out of habit you checked your social media, surprised to see several hundred new followers, and an inbox full of messages from both bots and real people wanting to know the scoop. Well, that didnt take long to identify you. Huffing, you almost put your phone away when you saw another text flash across the screen, figuring it was probably Dylan again harassing you with his Dunkin Donuts order that was really not happening. But it was somebody else:

I saw you in the news, so sorry that happened to you! I’m here if you’d like to talk, or not. I know I’m supposed to wait 3 days before asking for another date but life's short and I really enjoyed your company.

So James didn't see the picture and assume the worst. You were so thankful, and realized you were smiling as you prepared to text him back when the elevator doors opened.

Your coworkers all turned toward you as you walked by them, whispering. Your work bestie, Annika, was waiting by your cubicle, heels tapping, practically twitching at the prospect of getting the dish.

“Girl, you gotta tell me-

But before you could answer her, before you even had a chance to place your things on your desk, your boss was calling your name.

Everyone seemed to quiet then, not used to hearing the laid-back man so angry.

Annika mimed a drink, and you nodded subtly as you walked backwards toward Ray’s office. You’d be catching up with her after work, or if your luck turned, at a long boozy lunch after you were laid off.

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nightsidewrestling · 1 year

Text

D.U.D.E Part 14 - Sunday Morning (set in 2020)

Note: This is set in a universe where Men VS Women / Intergender matches can happen.

Chapter 1: here Chapter 2: here Chapter 3: here Chapter 4: here Chapter 5: here Chapter 6: here Chapter 7: here Chapter 8: here Chapter 9: here Chapter 10: here Chapter 11: here Chapter 12: here Chapter 13: here

Tags: @piratewithvigor @tantamount-treason @thedollmaker16 @janetreader

Around 2000 Words. 18+ in places (those chapters will be marked as 'Mature / sexual content' just to be safe). Please inform me if you wish to be tagged or untagged from posts. If the text is in italics and orange it's Kirby's inner monologue. If the text is coloured but not in italics, it's either dialogue or a P.O.V change (P.O.V changes will be in bold and translated dialogue will appear in square [ ] brackets), Key below. Quick note on Geia's text colour: Yes I do know that as Greed she should be in yellow but I decided to colour the men's dialogue yellow so Geia was changed to be pink like the other women in the story outside of the main 8.

The Main 8: Damo - Bio. Vi - Bio. Billie - Bio. Geia - Bio. Kirby - Bio. Honey - Bio. Eli - Bio. Sara - Bio.

Kirby's P.O.V:

It had been a month, almost three, since she had told Eddie everything.

He hadn't taken it well at first and she got scared, leaving before Eddie could stop her.

Well done idiot, now we're on our fuckin' own again.

Kirby had taken time away from everything in her life.

Wrestling... her other work... her family... friends... Eddie.

A fresh start, that's what we need.

She had begun attending church every Sunday, part of her hoping to bump into him every time.

Kirby had driven out to Orangeburg, South Carolina and spent the remainder of September there, gathering most of her stuff from Asheville in October and Yonkers in November and moving into a rented apartment in Arlington, Virginia.

She had cut off her ponytail and started dressing more formally. Suits, shirts and slacks. Switching between dark makeup and no makeup. She had even taken up a part-time job in an office to pay for her rent and other expenses. She had even gone to the extent of buying a new phone, keeping the old one purely for the memories.

Kirby's alarm clock starts ringing at'05:00', She gets up and checks the calendar, Tuesday 1st December. Almost three months since starting fresh. Just a few more days and people will stop searching for us.

Her old phone goes off and she answers without thinking, her brain kicks into gear a few seconds later and she doesn't talk, holding the phone next to her ear.

"Kirby, is that you?" Renee's voice asks, followed by Mox and Eddie telling her to put it on speakerphone.

Don't answer the question. Do not speak.

"Kirby, if you're there, answer us... please." Renee requests softly.

Stay silent, they'll hang up soon.

"C'mon, Ma, no more silent treatment," Eddie takes a deep breath, "Tell me how to find ya... tell me where my fuckin' wife is."

"Eddie, don't growl like that." Moxley warns.

Kirby hangs up and leaves the phone on her nightstand, walking into the kitchen and making her morning coffee as she goes through her call log.

Eddie spent all night trying to call us, text after text begging me to pick up the phone.

She reads a couple of his texts out loud, "'Ma please pick up', 'Kirby, I love you, call me', 'tell me where I can find you'... Holy fuck, I gotta call off from work today and sort this out... I can't have Eddie trying to track me down."

Kirby dials her boss and hopes he doesn't pick up on anything, explaining the situation by calling Eddie 'an old friend turned stalker' and praying her boss believes the lie. He does, or at the least seems to, believe what Kirby tells him and lets her have the day off to sort it out. Eddie phones right after she ends the call to her boss, Kirby goes against her gut and answers it.

"Hey Wifey," God, I can see his stupid grin in my head, "Mind telling me where the fuck you are? Or if it's even you I'm talkin' to, Ma?"

Kirby stays silent for a moment, trying to think of what to say.

"You're the one who picked up, the least ya could do is say 'hi'." Eddie grumbles.

Kirby can't help but giggle nervously, "I'll give you that one, Eddie, the least I could do is say hi." She murmurs her thoughts out loud.

"I fuckin' knew you were still alive," Eddie chuckles heartily, "Now ya gotta tell me where you went, our home feels empty without ya. Before ya say it, I know 'technically, Edward, it's just your home'," Eddie does an impression of Kirby before clearing his throat, already choking up slightly, "It's our home, I know ya gave me back the engagement ring, I found it and the note, saying to forget you, but you're still my fiancée... Kirby, please" Eddie sobs, "I'm beggin' ya, sweetheart, come back ta me."

"I'm in Arlington, Virginia." She blurts out before her brain can stop her mouth, "I have an apartment, and a job, and I haven't even spoken to my parents since I left."

"Ya haven't... but what about ya folks, ya family, ya 'obligations to the C.R.C'?"

A wave of emotions hit Kirby all at once, rage, sadness, fear, and all she can muster up as an answer to Eddie... a man she loves so much and hates to hurt, is the most brutally honest thing she's ever said, "I wasn't expecting to be alive for this long after running away... but every time I think of harming myself, I think of you and I can't do it... I know we never got married, but I can't stand the idea of making you a widower."

"I'm gettin' the next flight out there."

"Eddie, don't." She pleads.

"Don't? Ya just told me you've thought of endin' ya life... the life of the most beautiful woman in the world... my Celtic warrior queen, my better half, my angel of death-matches... my bride just fuckin' told me she'd thought of goin' to the grave instead of walkin' down the aisle." Eddie nearly yells down the phone, his emotions getting the better of him.

Kirby sits on her bed and sobs, unable to speak anymore.

"I'm flyin' to Arlington and makin' sure you're okay." Eddie tells her before hanging up.

Kirby texts him her address and apartment number, telling him how to get into the building. She walks to her bathroom and turns the shower on, getting undressed and grabbing a towel, she sits in the bathtub in the path of the water and cries silently.

After what feels like a century she moves, getting out and slowly drying herself off, she's in her underwear when there's a knock at the door... more of a pounding on the door than a knocking.

"Give me a second to get dressed." She calls, her voice weak.

The pounding gets louder and Kirby rushes to open the door, still just in her underwear.

"I fuckin' hate planes, but I didn't wanna drive ten hours to see ya." Eddie mutters, thrusting a bouquet of roses at Kirby.

She steps back and Eddie walks in whilst she inspects the roses.

"Are these-" Kirby goes to ask him why the flowers are covered with plastic and foil.

"I couldn't choose between flowers or chocolates, so I got you chocolate roses, I know, big dumb Eddie Kingston can't decide bet-" Eddie gets cut off by Kirby pulling him into a deep kiss.

It's as if they never parted, Eddie wrapping his arms around her waist, and resting his hands on her ass, Kirby wraps her arms around his shoulders, and chucks his baseball cap at the couch. He smirks against her lips, biting her bottom lip and roughening up the kiss, smacking her ass which makes her moan against his lips, just enough room for him to slip his tongue in her mouth. Kirby pulls away when air becomes a need and not an excuse.

"Ya like them?" Eddie asks softly.

"Like isn't the right word, this is so fuckin' genius of ya, I fuckin' knew you were smarter than how you act."

"Genius of me? Ya not mad I got you chocolates and not flowers?"

"Flowers die and you can't eat them when you feel down, chocolates don't and they make me happy... chocolate roses," Kirby beams, "well, they're... they're fuckin' genius, ya don't have all the packaging of a stupid box, with stupid little info cards, ya don't have ta throw them out because they're wilting... they're..." Kirby trails off, unable to come up with the right word.

"They're you," Eddie whispers, "Beautiful and pretty, and they taste so damn good, especially when you shouldn't be eatin' them 'cause ya know you'll get caught." He smirks.

"Does it always come back to sex with you, Eddie?" She teases, shaking her head softly.

"Not always, but when I think of you, my mind tends to go visual." He winks.

"Eddie, ya haven't seen nor heard from me in almost three months and all-"

He cuts Kirby off by kissing her, lifting her so her groin is level with his, carrying her to her dining table and putting her down on top of it. He weaves one hand into her hair and the other into her boxer shorts, caressing her inner thigh.

"Do I have ya consent, my bride-to-be?" He teases.

"Yes, Eddie... I missed how filling you can be." She whispers.

It takes Eddie all of five seconds to strip them both, carrying Kirby to the bed over his shoulder. He stands above her for a moment, taking in the changes she's made to herself. Not many, but a few noticeable differences, like the fresh bruises on Kirby's knees and shins, the cuts, scabs and scrapes on her arms, and her much shorter hair.

He takes his time, kissing from her fingertips to her neck, first on her right side then her left, smirking as he kisses from her neck down to her crotch. Eddie teases her with his tongue, moaning at the return of her taste to his lips.

"How did my lady get hurt?" He whispers as he moves to make out with her as he makes love to her.

"I may have had a couple trips and accidents recently, none I am happy to talk about." Kirby murmurs, moaning when Eddie starts thrusting.

"Ya can tell me, Ma, it's why we're a couple. So you have someone who'll listen to ya problems."

"I fell down the stairs twice in the last month, once by tripping over my own feet, and once by a stray cat, running in front of me when I was jogging up the stairs after work."

"And ya arms?"

"I got in a scuffle with someone at a bar, scratched up my left arm in the process. The next week I was jogging, with headphones in, and someone tried to grab me. They went to stab me, I used my right arm as a shield."

"And now ya husband's home, so nobody can fuck wit' ya ever again." Eddie smirks.

"I don't have the ring anymore, back to square one on the whole marriage thing." Kirby shrugs.

Eddie doubles his pace, groaning as he tries not to cum early, "Kirby, would ya be my girlfriend?"

Kirby moans out the words, "Yes Eddie." as she cums.

Eddie smirks as he follows her over the edge... literally, groaning in pain as he lands on his back on the floor, all 250 pounds of Kirby landing on top of him.

"Holy fuck, Eddie, are you okay, Papi?" Kirby asks, checking the fall hasn't given him a concussion.

"I'm fine Kir-" Eddie goes silent as Kirby picks him up in a bridal carry and places him on the bed.

"Sorry, I got concerned..." She whispers sheepishly.

"Shh, shh," Eddie puts his hand over her mouth, "ya could've fuckin' been carryin' me over ya shoulder every time we've had sex... you can carry me?"

"Well, you're not actually that heavy, I have picked up and carried men double your size, Eddie... would you, uhm, would you like a coffee?" She murmurs, sitting next to him on the bed.

"Marry me." Eddie blurts out.

"What did you just say?" She asks, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Marry me, at the nearest fuckin' chapel we can find, marry me."

"Eddie, I can't just drop everything to be in that world again, no."

"Kirby, I know I sound like I've lost my fuckin' mind, but... I need you in my life. I need my smart, sexy, strong, unafraid to tell her own father when he's crossin' a line, badass babe in my life. I can't be me anymore, not without you... Tony noticed that after ya left I got cruel, I started actually wantin' to hurt whoever I was facin'."

"I can't just drop everything all over again." She gets up, heading to the bathroom.

Eddie follows her, "Kirby, you are my calm. You are beautiful. Your blonde hair is like a sandy beach, your blue eyes are like the ocean, your scars show you've lived a story worth telling, those little beauty marks and freckles are like stars and ya pale skin... like paper, marked with ink, or snow, fragile but beautiful."

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