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#and i think they should try to get it back because it was the best thing they ever had
moonstruckme · 3 days
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I know nothing about spencer actually, since I never watch his series. But I read on one of your fics that spencer is germphobia?
Could I request one where spencer gets home after a case for a week and found reader sick in the bathroom?, and she's kinda locked herself since she knows spencer germphobia?
You know that kind of fever where you sweat and throw up nonstop
It's been so long after you write spencer. I miss your spencer a lottttttt TnT
Thank you for requesting! I’m not totally sure if Spencer is canonically confirmed germophobic but he’s definitely sensitive to germs, so we’ll roll with that :) 
cw: nausea, vomiting
Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 832 words
You’re not at your best, shaky and sweaty, but when you hear the front door open you move quick as a flash. 
“Hello?” Spencer’s call echoes through the apartment. 
“Hi,” you say back, quieter than you intend. Still, he finds you easily, and you’re glad you reacted fast when the handle on the bathroom door jiggles. “What are you doing here?” 
Spencer’s taken to staying at your place, but when he’d called you from the jet to tell you his case was over you’d said to go back to his apartment. With what he knows about how sick you’ve been the last couple of days, you thought he’d listen. 
“You shouldn’t be by yourself,” he answers simply. He doesn’t try the handle again, but his voice sounds just on the other side of the door. “Are you okay?” 
“I’ve been better,” you admit, breathing through another wave of nausea, “but I’ll be fine. You should go home.” 
“I am home. Open the door.” 
“Spence,” you sigh. The tips of your fingers are cool against your temples, and you press them in to quell the uneasy feeling that comes with having your brain so muddled. “You don’t want to come in here.” 
“Why can’t I decide that?” There’s an odd scraping sound on the other side of the door. 
“Because you’re too nice. I know how you feel about germs.” The mutinous acid vat of your stomach revolts again, and you cough a couple of times, swallowing forcefully. 
“I’m just as likely to get sick from pressing an elevator button,” Spencer insists gently. “Seriously, let me in.” 
“Go home,” you plead. 
“I’m coming in.” 
You sigh, bending to lean your head against the cool porcelain of your tub. “What, are you going to kick the door in?” He’s told you about his coworker Morgan doing that, but you don’t think of your scrawny (though you love him for it) boyfriend as capable of such measures. 
“Not quite.” Another scraping sound, and you sit up as your bathroom door tips outward. Spencer catches it before it can fall, easing it down onto the floor before stepping over it. He’s taken the whole thing off its hinges. 
“Show off,” you say tiredly, too spent to do anything about it as he walks over to you. 
“Yeah, well,” Spencer lifts some flyaway baby hairs off your neck, cool knuckles pressing to the hot skin, “I didn’t want to damage your door. You didn’t tell me your fever was this bad.” 
“I told you I was sick.” 
“I feel like ‘sick’ is more or less ambiguous,” he says, not unkindly. His touch moves to your face, long, slender fingers laying down across your forehead. “How high is it?” 
“Dunno.” You swallow thickly. “Haven’t checked. Are you okay?” 
“I touched a dead body yesterday; so long as I shower after this I’ll be fine. How have you not checked?” 
“I can’t—find—” You cough as bile rises in your throat, bending over the toilet “—the—” 
“Okay, it’s okay.” Spencer rubs your back. Your coughing turns into retching. “I got it. I’ll look for the thermometer soon, okay?” 
You nod, tears pressing at your eyes as you dry heave. The muscles in your throat and abdomen spasm painfully. 
Spencer makes a sorry sound, his hand coasting up and down the ridges of your spine. “You haven’t been eating anything, have you?” It’s not really a question. “We need to get something in your system. You know that ‘starve a fever’ saying is an old wives’ tale, right?”
He sits with you until the fit abates, then stands and leaves the room. You hear cabinet doors opening and shutting, and before long he’s got a wet rag cooling the back of your neck, you’re sipping water out of a straw, and he’s sticking your previously missing thermometer in your ear. 
“I’ll probably have to go soon if I want to get to the store before it closes,” he’s saying quietly, free hand settled comfortably north of your knee. You’re trying really hard not to breathe in his face. “It’d be good to have some cheerios or something for you to eat, and something with electrolytes.” 
The thermometer beeps, and he pulls it close to read the screen, a frown pursing his pretty lips. 
“Are you sure you want to stay?” you ask, though at this point you really want him to as well. “I don’t want to freak you out.” 
Spencer sets the thermometer aside. “You’re not freaking me out,” he says, hands gentle as he takes the rag from your neck and folds it onto a new side before putting it back. You almost sigh. “The worst thing that can happen is I get sick, and” —he meets your eyes, mouth tipping upward as he shrugs— “if that happens, it can’t be helped. But if I went back to my apartment, and I was fine there but you were still sick here by yourself, well, what’s the point in that?” 
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mountainsandmayhem · 2 days
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God Bless The She Devil Who Made Joel Miller
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Pairing: BFD!Joel x F!Reader
18+ only!!!
Summary: After a fight with your boyfriend, your best friend Sarah invites you to say with her at her childhood home with her dad.
CW: Joel be peekin, Joel is mean (but you like it). I’m choosing not to say anything else to not spoil anything so engage at your own risk.
AN: You can all thank @littlevenicebitch69 for this. She asked for being caught, but I am daddy and I know what she really wants 😉 thank you @mermaidgirl30 for being my forever beta xo
Graphics by @saradika-graphics
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God bless the absolute angel who brought Sarah Miller into your life. She somehow convinced her dad to let you stay with them over spring break after your boyfriend locked you out of your shared apartment and then refused to answer the phone or let you in. Sweet, empathetic, and dependable Sarah was at your apartment minutes after you called her and didn’t have to say much to her dad to let him allow you to stay.
And God bless the absolute she devil who made Joel Miller and put him in close proximity with you. You have a boyfriend, maybe, you can’t be sure, but you do know you have it HARD for Joel Mother Fucking Miller. He’s exactly the type of man that would classify as a DILF, and you don’t even consider yourself into older men. But Joel isn’t older, he’s experienced and charming and every single thing he does seems to turn you on.
Sarah has been working a day shift at the local grocery store during the break and Joel is off running his contracting business. Joel Miller, sweaty and dirty and building things with his large calloused hands. Fuck, you try to shake that image from your brain because you certainly do not need another image of him to touch yourself too.
You have a job serving in the evenings so the house is quiet and all yours during the day. This afternoon the sun peeks through your curtains and wakes you. Sun dancing along the pale yellow walls of the spare bedroom. You pick up your phone and see that it’s clear and sunny, the perfect day to lay out by the pool that Joel said you could use, “make yourself at home, darlin’, any friend of Sarah is welcome anytime.”
You practically leap out of bed and into your ensuite bathroom to brush your teeth and get ready to lay out in the sun. You rush down the hall in the swimsuit Sarah lent you, a large blue and white striped pool towel tucked under your arm.
You love Sarah, but there’s no chance you’re wearing this ridiculous one piece swimsuit to tan, plus you’re alone so what’s the harm? Joel doesn’t get home until well after 5 pm most nights, Sarah usually around 3 or 4, and she’s seen you naked more than once. Plus the backyard is fairly private, most likely no one will see anything.
Fuck it, you think to yourself, slipping the red lycra straps off your shoulders and then shimmying the suit down your body. The sun immediately warms your skin and that boost of vitamin D already has you feeling lighter and happier. You spread the towel down on the chair and lay on your stomach, tying your hair on top of your head and then grabbing your phone.
You flip through Spotify before settling on the album Ten by Pearl Jam. As the first song floats across the backyard, you rest your cheek on your hands and let the fast paced grunge music wash away your thoughts of your boyfriend and what you’re going to do next week when you go back to school. All that matters now is the sun on your skin.
X•X•X•X•X•X•X
Joel was just about to start working on some paperwork for his next building when he heard movement in the hallway. You must be up for the day, he should probably let you know he’s working from home today, just in case. He wants you to be comfortable here, even if it’s killing him to see you wandering around his house in those small denim shorts you wear to work. Last night he was almost certain he could see your hard nipples peeking out from the fabric of your tight white t-shirt.
Absolutely not, Joel. He scolds himself.
He hears you pad down the hall and then the unmistakable swoosh of the sliding glass door to the backyard. He glances out the window in his office to see you slip the red swimsuit Sarah lent you off your body. His cock was already painfully hard behind his jeans.
She just turned 21. The Angel on his shoulder reminds the devil that’s tempting him from the other side.
His mouth waters as he looks at your body. Your tits are perky, pink little nipples hardening as the air hits them.
She's going through a hard time. The good side of his conscience seems to be losing but he finds an ounce of strength and looks away. He can’t be staring at you.
He tries to focus on this goddamn contract but even little deadline and “initial here” blend together and all he can see in the jumbled words of the page is that little strip of hair that leads to that bundle of nerves he so badly wants to suck on. When he looks up again you’re laying face down, round and perky ass facing his window and on display for him. She must not know he’s home, and now she’s going to think he’s a total fucking creep if he says something now.
She’s your daughter's best friend. No, she’s off limits. Beyond off limits. Get it together, Miller.
And then your music drifts through his cracked window. You’re listening to Pearl Jam. So now not only are you incredibly tempting but you also have the music of his teenage years blasting. He can’t resist anymore, glancing out of the window to see you still laying on your stomach and your plush ass bouncing along as you wiggle to Eddie Vedder singing about still being alive.
He’s not sure how it happens, his body seems to move without him knowing, and suddenly he’s standing at the window, staring down into the backyard at you. His muscular arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the large window frame.
He slows his breathing and focuses on you - every dip and curve, every freckle, every little bit of skin being absorbed by his heated gaze. Your legs are slightly parted, but not enough for him to be able to see your cunt, and fuck does he want to see it.
His palms tingle with the need to cup your ass, maybe spank you for being naked in the middle of the day. He has neighbors, they could see you right now. This is unacceptable and you should be punished.
Just as he’s about to head downstairs his cell phone rings loudly and you shoot up onto your elbows and look over your shoulder at him, eyes locking with his before a tiny smile crosses your face. Joel looks away quickly and grabs his cell, almost crushing the device in his grasp as he answers.
X•X•X•X•X•X•X
Joel Miller was fully lurking at your naked body, and while that should probably embarrass you, you need to get fucked. You need something, anything, to forget about that piece of shit boyfriend who locked you out and refuses to talk to you or let you get your stuff. Sarah told you when you first met that he had her when he was 19, so it’s not like he’s THAT much older than you. Plus it’s just fucking.
Yep, I’m going for it.
You gather the towel around your body loosely, hooking your swimsuit on your finger and twirling it happily as you head into the house, determined to confront him and then seduce him. When you head up the stairs he’s standing in the doorframe of his office, just across from the spare bedroom you’re occupying. He looks deliciously pissed, one arm propped above his head on the door frame, the other on his hip, knee popped out. Your pussy flutters at the thought of his large, angry body above yours.
The opening bars of Jeremy fill the silence between you two, almost daring the other to make the first move.
“Turn that off,” Joel snaps. “I’m working.”
“Didn’t look like you were working a few minutes ago,” you say back, matching his energy.
Joel’s eyes narrow, brows furrowing, but you can tell he’s fighting to keep his eyes on yours. You lick your lips, testing him, teasing him, pushing him to see if he’ll take the bait. The flick of his eyes to your lips happens so quickly you almost miss it.
You let out a scoff, “Ya, that’s what I thought.” You step towards him, so close that you can smell the coffee and sawdust on him. “Wanna take a break from all that work?” You say the word work teasingly, trying to entice him.
“Go to your room and put some clothes on. Don’t let me catch you naked in the backyard again,” He says deeply, then closes his office door in your face.
You smirk to yourself, dropping the towel at his door and wandering into your room leaving the door wide open. You hook your phone to the Bluetooth speaker as you lay on your bed completely naked. You hit the volume button and slip your hand between your legs, rubbing your clit in fast, little circles.
“Daddy didn’t give no affection, no
And the boy was something that Mommy wouldn’t wear
King Jeremy the wicked
Oh, ruled his world”
Joel whips his office door open looking absolutely furious. His breath catches in his throat at the sight of you. Bare, wide open, and soaking wet. You don’t stop, don’t even bother to look his way, as you dip your fingers into your pussy and cry out his name. Joel steps into your room and hits the power button on your speaker. The only sounds that film the room are your moans and the squelching of your arousal as your fingers slip in and out of your pussy.
“What the fuck did I just say, little girl?” Joel says darkly.
You open your eyes to look at him and the expression on his face sends your heart into your stomach. You’ve always been a little bit of a brat, getting in trouble lots growing up. Truthfully, you like the rush of it, the adrenaline of the unknown. But Joel looks dangerous, eyes blown out with rage and lust, hands clamped into fists at his sides, a slight blush pinks his cheeks, lips in a tight line.
You sit up, crossing your legs and covering yourself with a pillow as you turn towards him. You’re suddenly not feeling so confident, you may have pushed the wrong man.
“Y-you said outside,” you start, your voice wavering. “I’m inside.”
Joel moves so quickly that you don’t even have time to register what’s happening as the pillow is ripped from your grip and disposed of on the floor in front of you. You’re bare and exposed to him again.
“Spread your legs,” he says hungrily, voice a raspy whisper.
He watches your throat as you swallow hard, leaning back on your elbows and planting your feet on the edge of the bed. You look at him tentatively, jumping and letting out a little squeal when he barks, “I said spread your fucking legs.”
You relax, letting your knees fall open. His breathing is rapid, a growling moan leaving his parted lips. He takes one step, his knees hitting the edge of the bed.
“Joel -” you start.
“Shut up. You knew what you were doing, you wanted this. Didn’t you?”
“Y-Yes, but…” his hand slaps the inside of your thigh and your knees slam together as you cry out.
“Spread. Your fucking. Legs,” he repeats in a slow and deep command.
“That hurt!” You say back, squeezing your knees together tighter. It feels like he set fire to your thigh and you can already see the red handprint forming.
“If you’re gonna act like a little brat, I’m going to treat you like one. Now spread your legs so I can hit the other one.” He raises an eyebrow at you cockily. “If you keep them open, I might reward you.” You’ve bit off more than you can chew with Joel Miller.
You take in a calming breath through your nose, relaxing your knees as you exhale slowly. Joel can see the milky, sticky strings of your arousal as your pussy lips spread open for him. He has to swallow the excess saliva that pools in his cheeks at the sight. He wants to taste you so fucking badly.
“I think you liked it,” he taunts. “You’re makin’ a mess, you like being slapped around, don’t you? Treated like a little whore.”
Before you can respond he lays a hard smack on your other thigh. Your hips involuntarily buck upwards, your head falling back and a moaning, whimpering cry you don’t recognize as your own leaves your lips. You focus on your knees, fighting against your body’s instincts, keeping them pushed into the mattress.
“That’s what I thought,” he says as he kneels in front of you and yanks your ass to the edge of the bed. “Think you should get a reward now?”
“Y-yes, please, Joel. Please!” You have never had to beg for sex before, boys your age are usually fired up and ready to go, but men of Joel’s age know sex is so much more than just penetration - it’s a game, a tease.
He bites down on your thigh, “Please. Please, Joel!”
“You smell so fucking good,” he says as his hooked nose trails down your little line of pubic hair. You squirm under him as your clit twitches, aching for his attention. “And so goddamn wet. My little whore, aren’t ya?” His warm breath hits your needy clit and you flop down onto the bed, whining in need.
“Please -” but your words are cut off by the front door opening and Sarah’s voice calls through the house.
“Everyone can celebrate, I’m home now!!!” She yells jokingly.
“Fuck!” Joel huffs under his breath and bolts for his office, kicks your towel and swimsuit into your room, you follow and click your door shut quietly.
“Hello?” Sarah calls, heading up the stairs.
“Just getting dressed,” you call through your closed door. “I think your dad is in a meeting.”
“Put on your swimsuit, it’s gorgeous outside!”
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@iluvurfather @ashleyfilm @mermaidgirl30 @untamedheart81
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adriennebarnes · 3 days
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A Cinderella Story
Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader
Summary: Y/N, a McLaren mechanic, dances with the prince of Ferrari, at a Rolex masquerade charity ball. Charles has no clue who he danced with and is trying to find the girl of his dreams.
Warning: bad writing I guess, spelling and grammatical errors, inaccurate events
A/N: like i said before, I’m new to F1 so I don’t really know what kind of events go on so bear with me, please. Also, thank you so much for liking my other Charles Leclerc one shots, you have no idea how much it means to me that you like them. Y/N’s relationship with the Lando and Oscar is very much like brother and sister. Y/N is younger, mainly because I’m 21, hope all of y’all are okay with that.
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Y/N was talking to Lando about his car after the Monaco Free Practice 1. (As a mechanic, she has her hair up)
“I am almost finished fixing your car, I think there’s something missing but it could be that I’m overthinking. You think you can test it out before FP2? That’s allowed, right?” Y/N asked, fishing her bracelet out of her pocket and putting it back on.
“Yeah I can drive it, 10 laps should be enough, yeah?” Lando asked, putting on his race suit and helmet.
“You’re the best, Lando!” Y/N exclaimed.
“I know.” Lando teased as he got in the car.
After the 10 laps, Lando got out of the car, took his helmet off, tied the suit around his waist, and walked to Y/N.
“The car is good, you worry too much, there is a reason why Zak hired you as a mechanic. Listen, I’m going out with the guys from Quadrant, want to come? I’ll invite Oscar too.” Lando said.
“Yeah sure I’ll come, when?” Y/N asked.
“I was thinking after the second practice, we can hit the showers, change, and go straight to the club.” Lando said.
“Okay, sounds good, I’ll go ask Oscar if he wants to come.” Y/N said, she was clearing her stuff and was on her way to talk to Oscar when she bumped into someone. “Que torpe soy, I'm so sorry.” Y/N apologized without looking.
“My fault, chéri, you alright?” Charles asked, looking at Y/N for signs of discomfort.
“Nah I'm good, thank you.” Y/N said flustered, unbeknownst to her, Oscar saw the whole thing go down and he was holding in his laughter. “Don’t you dare, Australia.” Y/N warned.
“Your crush on Leclerc is so obvious, America, it hurts to watch.” Oscar said between laughs.
“Ha ha, like you weren't like this around Lily?" Y/N asked.
"Yeah, I was nervous, but I definitely wasn't as bad as you." Oscar said.
"Anyway, Lando invited us to go out after FP2 with the quadrant gang, you coming? Please say yes, Lando is probably going to spend all night talking to Max anyway, I can’t be alone.” Y/N practically begged.
“Yeah sure, I’ll go, you need a few drinks to erase what happened with Leclerc.” Oscar said.
“Awesome! So Zak sent an email saying that he has a surprise for us tomorrow, do you have any idea what that might be?" Y/N asked, showing Oscar the email on her phone, Oscar took her phone to read it better.
"I don't know what it could be about. Anything that needs to be fixed in my car or is it good?" Oscar asked.
"it should be fine, i checked everything with Henry and Bryan (other mechanics), nothings wrong. It’s ready for the second free practice." Y/N said.
“Great. You'll be watching, right?" Oscar asked.
"Of course! Need to make sure my papaya boys get fastest lap." Y/N said.
"And your monegasque too." Oscar teased.
"Don't make me hurt you, Australia." Y/N said.
"You love me too much to do that, America." Oscar said, walking.
"Whatever." Y/N replied.
Two hours later, FP2 started, Y/N was watching everything with the rest of the team, eating chips.
“Is that necessary?” Andrea asked.
“You have no idea how much.” Y/N commented.
FP2 went well, Charles Leclerc got fastest lap. Lando and Oscar took off the helmets and balaclavas, tying their suits around their waists.
“Great free practice, sorry you didn’t get fastest lap though.” Y/N said.
“No your not.” Lando commented.
“Bet you were happy when Leclerc got it.” Oscar said.
“Well I can’t say I wasn’t happy.” Y/N said.
“Alright so let’s start getting ready. Will you drive or am I driving you?” Lando asked.
“I carpooled with Henry, drive me?” Y/N asked.
“Yeah sure. Shit, i can’t, gotta pick up Max.” Lando said.
“I’ll drive you.” Oscar offered.
“Thanks, Australia.” Y/N said. “Now both of you hit the showers, y’all are sweaty.” Y/N said.
After the boys showered, they changed, Y/N changed into something more club appropriate and let her hair down.
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Y/N walked to Oscar’s car.
“What took you so long?” Oscar asked.
“Im a girl, guys can wear a shirt and jeans and everyone will freak out, if I wear the same thing, I get told I look crusty.” Y/N said.
“But you just had that outfit with you?” Oscar asked.
“If I learned anything from watching Crazy Rich Asians, you should always have a clubbing outfit and a cocktail outfit with you at all time.” Y/N said, getting into the passenger seat of Oscar’s car. “Lando sent you the address right?”
“Yeah, let’s go.” Oscar said. He started the car, they listened to music and talked until they got to the club. They got in, Y/N said hello to everyone with a kiss on the cheek because that’s how her mom raised her. She sat at their booth and Y/N spotted Charles at the bar.
“Bro, Charles is here.” Y/N said, patting Oscar’s arm.
“And? You gonna do something or observe from afar like you always do?” Oscar asked.
“Well…” Y/N started but she saw a woman approach Charles. “I don’t want to interrupt his scintillating conversation.”
“I Don’t understand, you talk to Lando and I just fine.” Oscar commented.
“I was nervous around you guys too, don’t lie. I just got used to y’all, but I never had a crush this huge before, I’ve never been in a relationship, had a first date, or even a first kiss, I’m very inexperienced, okay?” Y/N admitted (guilty).
“So you’re just going to be pining away for him?” Oscar asked,
“Yep.” Y/N said.
The table ordered drinks, designated drivers get 2 drinks max. The night was fun, Lando got to deejay again, Carlos was also there so he joined their group. Since they had free practice 3 tomorrow, they needed to rest up. Oscar dropped Y/N off at her apartment, she changed, washed her face, put on a silk bonnet to protect her hair, and went to sleep.
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The next morning, Y/N had her hair in two French braids and wearing her favorite bracelet. She drove to the the track and walked to the Lando’s garage.
“Are you as tired as I look?” Y/N asked.
“No, I feel fine, really.” Lando said,
“Lucky, i had trouble sleeping.” Y/N said. Lando was going to say something else when Zak came into the garage.
“Alright, I have an announcement to make. As you know, F1 is partners with Rolex, so we are invited to Rolex’s masquerade charity ball. It will be on Sunday after the Grand Prix. It starts at 8, it gives you plenty of time to get ready after the race and podium interviews.” Zak said. Everyone was excited.
“Would you give me money to buy a dress? And shoes?” Y/N whispered to Lando.
“I’ll tell you what, I’ll go shopping with you.” Lando whispered back.
“This is why I love you.” Y/N teased. Zak walked towards Y/N and Lando went to talk to Oscar.
"Y/N, I need you in the McLaren Technology Centre on Monday." Zak said.
"Really? For what?" Y/N asked.
“For mechanical stuff. We’re planning on creating a new McLaren, you like the creative process, and I still need Henry and Bryan here if we have anything major to fix after the Grand Prix. I already got your ticket, first class too. Don’t miss your flight.” Zak said.
“Of course, I won’t.” Y/N said. Zak gave Y/N her ticket and she started checking the information. Her flight leaves at 3am. “Wait, isn’t this flight a little soon?”
“I know, but I need as many people working on the new McLaren as possible. You’ll only be there for 4 days, then you can relax in Monaco before we go to Canada.” Zak said and he walked away. Lands came back with Oscar and saw Y/N’s worried face.
“Whats wrong, America?” Oscar asked.
“If i go to the Rolex ball thing, I would have to leave before midnight so I have time to change and go to airport in Nice. Oh shit, I have to pack my luggage.” Y/N said.
“Can’t you just skip the ball?” Landon asked.
“Dude, when am I ever going to get invited to theses kind of events? I’m going and you’re taking me shopping.” Y/N said, pointing at Lando.
“Fine, but we’re getting food after. You think we can do it after qualifying?” Lando asked.
“I guess, but you’re calling the store, they know you.” Y/N said. “How do y’all feel about this race?” Y/N asked the boys.
“Max is definitely winning, but hopefully we’ll get on the podium.” Oscar said.
“I believe in you guys, really.” Y/N said before hugging them.
“But you also want Leclerc on the podium.” Oscar said.
“I’m just a girl, leave me alone.” Y/N said,
FP3 and Quali went by fast, no accidents. Max got pole, Charles P2, Oscar P3. During the break between FP3 and Quali, Y/N tried fixing up her Jeep Wrangler Sahara, with Zak’s okay so, of course. Lando texted Y/N the address to the shop and she drove there, parking right next to Lando.
“Alright, love, let’s get you that dress.” Lands said, guiding Y/N into the store with his hand on her lower back. “Hello, we’re looking for an evening dress for her.” Lando told the sales associate.
“Of course, all these dresses right here should be in your size, we have a selection of heels that would go well with these dresses as well.” The sales associate, Ana, said.
“Do you have any dresses in pastel blue?” Y/N asked. Ana started looking through the rack and pulled out a dress that she thought Y/N might like.
“Here you go. Because this dress has a slit, I recommend some tall high heels to elongate your legs. I prefer the platform ones like these.” Ana said, showing Y/N the heels. “Here is a dressing room, I’ll be right outside if you need help zipping it up, okay?” Ana said, handing Y/N the dress and heels.
“Thank you so much.” Y/N said, stepping into the dressing room and getting changed. She got the dress on and sat in the chair to put on the heels. After she strapped on the heels, she tries zipping up the dress, but can’t make it to the top. “Ana, I need help.” Y/N said. Ana pulled the curtain and helped Y/N zip the dress.
“You look beautiful.” Ana said. Y/N walked out of the dressing room, and she looked at Lando, who was on his phone, he looked up and his jaw dropped.
“Wow Y/N, you look great. You’ll be the most beautiful girl there.” Lando said, getting up to get a closer look. He made the motion to have Y/N twirl and she did.
“Not bad for a mechanic, right?” Y/N joked.
“Not bad at all. We’ll take it.” Lando said.
“I’ll change and we’ll be on our way.” Y/N said. Lando unzipped the dress, stopping right above her waist and Y/N unzipped the rest already in the dressing room. She changed, putting the dress on the hanger and the heels in its box, she got out and gave the things to Lando so he could pay.
After paying Lando handed Y/N her things and they walked outside to their cars.
“Thanks again for buy it.” Y/N said.
“Yeah of course. Where do you want to eat though? I’m starving.” Lands said.
“You pick.” Y/N said.
“If you say so.” Lando said. “Just follow me.” Lando got into his car, Y/N got in hers, and she followed Lando to Graziella, an Italian restaurant.
They were seated, Lando had beef tagliata with Gorgonzola sauce and French fries, Y/N had penne alla carbonara (I looked up the restaurant menu to be as accurate as possible). When they finished eating, they went to the parking lot to get their cars.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Lando said goodbye, they hugged before driving off to their apartments.
When arriving to her apartment, Y/N started playing music as she packed for a four day trip. She hung her dress right in front of her closet. She finished packing, had a late night snack, and went to bed.
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Tonight’s the night, after the Grand Prix with Max P1, Charles P2, and Lando P3, Y/N was getting ready, putting on her dress, her shoes, styling her hair down, and putting on her bracelet. Everything looked good, her luggage was already in her car. She drove to the venue where the ball was taking place, gave her name to the people in charge, and Y/N was given a masquerade mask.
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(Choose whichever dress you like better)
Y/N walked in and all eyes were on her. She began fiddling with her bracelet until two guys approached her.
“America, you look great.” Oscar said.
“Thanks, Australia, Lando showed you the picture he took yesterday huh?” Y/N asked.
“He did.” Oscar said.
“I had to show you off. I don’t see you with your hair down that often, you know.” Lando said.
“I’m a mechanic, can’t have my hair in my face.” Y/N commented. “I’m gonna get a drink, okay, I’ll be right back,” Y/N said, she walked to the drink table to get herself some champagne and another guy walked up to her.
“You made quite the entrance, you know. You Commanded the attention of everyone in the room.” The guy spoke, his voice seemed familiar to Y/N but almost everyone in Monaco has a similar voice.
“Why thank you, kind sir.” Y/N feigned an English accent as she curtsied.
“Do you go to these events often?” The guy asked, also sipping champagne,
“Not really, it’s technically a work thing, but this is my first time going to a charity ball.” Y/N replied to the mask stranger. His eyes a beautiful shade of blue-green, his eyes feel so familiar to her, why the hell can’t she figure out who this guy is.
“I’m here for work as well.” The guy replied. They kept talking until a slow song started playing. “Care to dance, chéri?” The guy extended his hand to Y/N
“I’d love to.” Y/N said, taking his hand to dance.
“Baby blue is actually one of my favorite colors.” The guys admitted.
“It’s mine too. I love all shades of blue, but pastel blue is just beautiful.” Y/N said. “So since you’re here for work, what do you do? I’m a mechanic.”
“You’re definitely the prettiest mechanic I ever saw. I’m a driver.” The guys replied. What’s going on in Y/N’s mind is that he’s a driver and has a French accent, it could be Pierre, but he’s with Kika. She’s hoping it’s Charles but she doesn’t want to get disappointed either.
“Thank you, that’s cool that you’re a driver.” Y/N said.
They talked and danced some more, it was all going well until the clock chimed, saying it was 11:55pm.
“Listen, Frenchy, it’s been fun, but I gotta go,” Y/N said, pulling away from him.
“I’m not French, I’m monegasque.” The guy said, the confirmed Y/N’s suspicions. He took off the mask.
“Charles.” Y/N said.
“Yes, I’m Charles Leclerc, what’s your name?” Charles asked, Y/N heard the clock chime again.
“I’m sorry, I really have to go.” Y/N said, she exits the hall and puts the mask on the table before running out the the parking lot to get into her car to drive to her apartment. Charles chased after her but she saw her car leaving. He looked on the ground and he saw the bracelet that she was wearing on the floor.
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“I will find out who you are.” Charles said, placing the bracelet in his suit pocket.
Y/N made it to her apartment, parked her car, went upstairs, got changed, and went downstairs to her car but it won’t start.
“Hijo de la chingada, this can’t be happening to me.” Y/N said. She got her luggage out of her car and order an Uber to nice airport,
The car arrived and dropped her off at the airport, she was on time for her flight, everything was good, but Y/N noticed her bracelet was missing.
“Ah, for fucks sake.” Y/N exclaimed as she waited in the terminal for them to call her flight.
Meanwhile Charles got into his Ferrari and drove back to his apartment. When he was home with his dog Leo, he was looking at Instagram to see if anyone posting from the event was the girl he danced with.
"What do you think, Leo? Am i going crazy?" Charles asked the blonde dachshund on his lap. He gets no answer. "Okay, maybe a little, but I had a wonderful time with her."
Charles decided to do the reasonable thing and posted a photo of the charm bracelet he found with the caption "Does this belong to you? Found on the floor of (venue) on May 26th. Contact me if this bracelet is yours." Charles turned off his phone and decided to go to sleep.
The next day, Y/N got off the plane, she turned off the airplane mode on her phone, and that's when she started recieving calls from Lando, she answered.
"Dude, what is wrong with you? I just got off the plane, who died?" Y/N asked, confused why she had so many texts and missed calls from Lando and Oscar.
"Charles posted a photo of your charm bracelet last night. You fucking danced with Charles and you didn't tell me or Oscar? We're happy for you." Lando said. "You should tell him its yours."
"No way, I know i told him i was a mechanic last night, but he is definitely expecting someone as beautiful as Kika, he would totally be disappointed if he finds out it was me." Y/N said, getting an Uber to drive her to the hotel Zak also booked for her.
"You are beautiful, Y/N, honestly, if we weren't friends, i would have flirted with you everyday until you gave me a chance." Lando said.
"Thank you but i can't help but feel how i feel. I gott go, I'm heading to my hotel then i'll go to McLaren, talk to you later." Y/N said.
The four days Y/N was in Woking, Charles was answering DMs of women claiming it was their bracelet. He would follow up with the questions "What do you do for work?" and "What color was your dress?" No one has answered those two questions correctly. Charles was starting to think it was a lost cause and he would never find her. He decided to go out with Pierre and Kika and he brought Leo with him.
"Still haven't found her, Charlie?" Pierre asked.
"No! It has been four days, everyone in my DMs who is claiming the bracelet is not her." Charles said.
"Charles, do you even know this girl's name?" Kika asked.
"I don't, i just have her bracelet and there is no indication of a name or anything that could be useful." Charles said.
"I'm sorry, Charles." Kika said, rubbing his arm.
"I felt we had a connection, even if she did call me frenchy." Charles said.
"Well there isn't a way to shorten 'monegasque' you know." Pierre said.
"Yes, I am aware." Charles said.
It was now the Canadian Grand Prix, Y/N flew with Lando and Oscar obviously. When they landed, they went to their hotel rooms, to leave their stuff and went to the hotel restaurant to order some food. Y/N had her hair down becasue she was not risking a ponytail headache. She was sitting with Oscar while Lando was talking to Carlos. Charles came downstairs and he spotted Y/N with her hair down. It looked remarkably similar to the girl he danced with. She saw Lando with Carlos so he sat right next to Lando.
"Hey Lando, quick question, did Y/N attend the Rolex thing?" Charles asked.
"She did, yeah, why?" Lando asked the monegasque.
"Does this happen to be her bracelet?" Charles asked, pulling out the bracelet from his pants pocket.
"Okay, why are you carrying that around?" Lando asked curiously.
"Just answer the question, Lando." Charles said.
"yes, yes, thats her bracelet." Lando admitted.
It all made sense, Charles started thinking about the first time he met Y/N and she called him 'Frenchy'.
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It was Y/N's first day in the paddock and she walked into Charles's garage by accident. She was looking around and she bumped into him, Charles exclaimed something in French.
"Oh my god, I am so sorry, frenchy, I'm just a little lost." Y/N said.
"First, I am not French, i am monegasque." Charles said.
"Oh my god, you're Charles Leclerc! Sorry, I'm Y/N, I'm looking for the McLaren garage." Y/N said, holding her hand out for Charles to shake, which he did.
"Its on the other side actually. So why are you here?" Charles asked.
"Oh, I am McLaren's new mechanic." Y/N said.
"Nice to meet you, I'll walk you to McLaren." Charles said.
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Charles had a tiny crush on her since that day but Y/N hardly spoke to him so he thought she didn't like him. He wlaked over to the table where Y/N was with Oscar.
"Y/N, can i talk to you for a second?" Charles asked. Y/N looked at Oscar.
"I'm gonna sit with Logan." Oscar said, getting up. Charles took his seat.
"I think this is yours." Charles said, showing Y/n the bracelet.
"Are you disappointed to find out that i was the girl you danced with?" Y/N asked, too shy to look at him. Charles lift her chin with his finger so she could look in his eyes.
"Why would i be disappointed? I don't know if you noticed, amour, but I've like you since you came into my garage by accident." Charles admitted. "Were you disappointed to find out you danced with me? Is that why you rushed out so quickly?"
"No, of course not! I had to go to Woking for some McLaren business and my flight was at 3am so I had to leave to change and have time to go to the airport in Nice. I was so shocked that it was you though, like i was dancing with my celebrity crush the whole night." Y/N said.
"Good to hear I'm your celebrity crush. Let's get this bracelet on." Charles said, opening the bracelet, Y/N held out her wrist, and Charles successfully secured the bracelet on her wrist. "That's better."
"It is. Thank you for finding it, I would have died if i lost it." Y/N said.
"It's no problem. So i was wondering if you would like to go on a date with me, we could go after FP2." Charles suggests.
"I would like that a lot." Y/N said.
"Perfect. Is it alright if i kissed you? I've been imagining this moment for months." Charles said.
"Go ahead." Y/N said. Charles moved her hair behind he ear and kissed her softly. They pulled away. "That was way better than my dreams."
"You dream about kissing me, mon ange?" Charles teasingly asked.
"You imagined kissing me too." Y/N said.
"True, I'm glad i don't have to imagine it anymore though." Charles said, wrapping his arm around Y/N's shoulders as they looked over the menu.
The End
Hope y’all liked it! Was it too long? I thought it was okay
243 notes · View notes
hidtired · 3 days
Text
Unfortunate Timing [Part 2]
(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist
Description: You found out your pregnant early into your relationship with Daryl Dixon. To make matters worse? The apocalypse happens a few days later! (not fully canon)
4.2k words
Warnings (Pregnancy, gore, abuse, violence, fluff, walking dead stuff, ect.)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 etc.
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A single moment can change your life, change the world. Everything only seemed to get worse. The quarry was a group of survivors that had formed. You and the Dixons were outcasts, at least it felt like it. The girls seemed to see you in low regard being pregnant. The men were no better. They saw you as a burden. The feeling of people talking behind your back stressed you out. Being pregnant also didn’t help. You felt tired all the time, also being plagued with morning sickness. Which is a stupid name when it happens all day. Throwing up in a world were food is now limited also leaves you uneasy.
You also see that stress weighing on Daryl. It wasn’t long ago he struggled with the fact of having a kid. Now seemed even more terrifying. He was becoming short tempered, to his credit only snapping at you once but regretted the way he almost made you cry. “No! I won’t take a break I have to keep going out there for food! You’ve been throwing up half the shit I’ve already gotten for you!”
He didn’t mean for it to sound like your wrong for doing so, he knew you couldn’t help it. He saw the glassy film come to the corner of your eyes. His heart tugged. You were in your tent you shared, sat on the sleeping bag with your head shamefully down. “No, no. Come on…” he angled your face back up to met his. He sank to his knees in front of you. “I know you can’t help it. M’ just trying to say you need more. I just want to make sure you’re gettin enough.” You had asked him to stay because he was rarely around. He was out alone looking for food and you couldn’t help but see every time he came back a little more on edge. He was getting into his head to much out there.
He knows you’re having a hard time. With being pregnant at this moment in time how could you not. You had tried to talk to the mothers of the camp for advice on anything, they didn’t bat an eye to you. You had looked for support and were denied it. He saw that you were being treated like a Dixon. Something he was familiar with, and something Merle also understood. Merle became more chill around you. No more sexual comments or sexist remarks. Doesn’t mean he is any less better to be around. He treated you like a sister you thought. He still was an ass. Making mean comments or complaining about something you did. But he had become family.
Andrea was your biggest pain. She seemed like she had something to prove. She hated the traditional female roles that had been pushed onto the girls. You understood her disliking for Merle but she attached that to Daryl and you as well. She didn’t say outright mean things but subtle jabs. Week after week it was chipping at your demeanor.
So here you are now, you think almost 3 months pregnant. Seeing Daryl was the highlight of whenever he appeared. You sat in your tent with him getting ready for his 2 day hunting trip for a deer he knew was near by. He signed feeling your eyes on him, “Yer breakin my heart with that look.” Your smiling face replacing your sulking one, “I’m just missing you already.” You stood up, “You should see something before you go.” He turned to you questioningly. You pulled your shirt up over your stomach and turned to the side, “I know I haven’t seen myself in a mirror for a while but, I think I’m showing?” You looked up from your little bump that you could see spotting the surprised face he was making. He gulped before talking, “Ya sure are…” he walked closer placing a hand to your tummy. You saw his teeth were clenched. He felt the weight of pressure crushing him,
“We are doing are best, that’s all I could ask form you.”
He left for his hunt a little less stressed. You also saw Merle off later into the day with the first group run to the city. “Hey do me a favor and don’t get yourself killed.” Merle turned to you, “And have those freaks naw on m' sweet ass?” You chuckle as you walk away, “Let’s just hope you remember your ass from your elbow!”
The day progress like any other. It had just become the afternoon when the sound of the radio chirped on. It cause some disagreement about making a sign to warn others about the city. You just went back to minding your own business. You helped boil water taking notice of Lori trimming her son’s hair. You spoke up noticing the displeased look on Carl's face, “Going for a mohawk Carl? Or maybe you’re thinking bald.” His nose scrunched up at the thought. You laugh at the reaction, “Bald people run faster.” Carl smiled, “Nuh-uh!” You shook your head and shrugged, “How do you know if you won’t try.” He looked to his mom, “I’d rather have hair than be faster!” He said it to his mom like he tried convincing her to not make him bald. Lori smiled at her son, “Ya me to, but if you keep moving you might be bald at the end of this.” He straightened and stilled, but he still spoke, “I hate haircuts…”
Shane came and sat down looking at you briefly. “One of these days you’ll be missing your mother’s hair cuts.” Carl rolled his eyes, "I'd like to see that day!" It had initially shocked you that Shane wasn’t Carl's dad. You always assumed for how close they were and how often they would walk into the woods together. Then it put a gross feeling into your mouth that his father had only recently died. Shane was his apparent best friend and coworker. But it wasn’t necessarily wrong, you just didn’t like to think about it often.
After finishing with boiling water you handed it to Carol. You felt sweaty and all around unpleasant. You needed a nap. You said to Carol that you were going to lay down if they needed to find you. You woke up to arguing. The group that went out had radioed saying there was a problem. Everyone was scared for their respective family that had gone to the city. You felt a pit form in your stomach. The hormones in your body already swarming causing you to be unable to control them. You picture what happened to your Aunt in front of you. Sometimes it still feels as if the blood was still on your face. The thought of knowing she was one of those things walking around somewhere. Maybe they all were already dead let her. You weren’t exactly thrilled about Merle as a person but, you knew deep down he was another person to help protect your baby.
You decided there was no use in stressing yourself, so you went and distracting yourself with chores. Laundry, moving fire wood to our fire pit, took a walk near the perimeter, which now leaves you here at the waters edge. You used the cool water to help with the swelling in your feet and ankles. Week after week you had the sense that being pregnant is going to really suck farther down the road. You fiddle with your knife while swaying your feet in the water. Lost in your own world when an echo starts to ring out throughout the quarry.
The car alarm got louder so you slipped your shoes on and walked back up to the camp. You saw a red car and Glenn standing outside of it. Shane opening the hood and pulling something to stop its beeping. People were yelling at him for answers when a van appeared, ‘so everyone made it back.’ It was a relief to stop the constant thought of the worse. You couldn’t help but notice Merle nowhere to be seen. But that thought was pushed aside when you heard Carl scream,
“DAD!”
You watched with a smile at the reunion of the Grimes family. Also taking notice of Shane making a weird face. He probably was feeling sick to his stomach and you thought it kinda deserved. He did persuade his grieving wife. The thought was interrupted by T-dog coming toward you with a concerned face. You clicked something was wrong, then started to look around. Merle was still no where. The sinking feeling of realization hit you. T-dog watch as understanding washed over you. A hand over your mouth, “W-where is Merle?” A few others turning at the mention, Lori’s husband taking the most notice. T-dog spoke first, “He was putting all of us in danger. He was cracked out of his mind.”
You squeeze your eyes shut, ‘I told him to behave.’ You inhale trying to calm yourself, “He dead?” T-dog shock his head. You nodded looking at all the pears of eyes on you. Your eyes were shiny but nothing fell. You huffed and walked back to your tent. While you were upset about Merle being gone it wasn’t about that. It proved how fucked this new world was becoming. A world your child would have to be in. Suddenly being pregnant with them seemed like the safest place for them. Your thoughts of how it would suck later in pregnancy and 'couldn’t wait for it to be over' stopped. Your child is the safest it will ever be in its life. That terrifying thought scared you.
It wasn’t until later when the sun began to set that you had calmed. It was cold and you wanted to sit by a fire. People were surprised when you appeared and sat with them. You had over heard parts about what happened to Rick. But at the sight of you got them talking about Merle. It was Dale who brought it up, “Who is going to tell Daryl Dixon about his brother?” Rick glanced to you then back to Dale, “I will. I’m the one who handcuffed him.” Then T-dog shook his head, “Nah I dropped the key, makes this one mine.” Based on that information you started to piece what happened on the run. That thought stalled to a stop when Glenn stated, “Not to make it about race but maybe a white guy should tell him?” Is that what they thought about Daryl? They just assuming he is like his brother? You huff in anger, “Really Glenn? He is not racist. He’s only the person that, you know, been feeding all of you.” Glenn turned sheepish at your harsh tone. You stood, “But you know, leave his brother for dead seems like a good trade for how much he has been doing for all of you people!”
You visible deflate mood switching on a dime. You move a hand to your small bump, “Sorry I know you probably had a good reason, Merle is a hard ass.” You sunk back down enjoying the fire too much to go to bed. Rick’s voice spoke calmly, “Your pregnant.” He stated it more as a realization. You look to his shocked face, clearly thinking of how unlucky a timing it was to be. You chuckled speaking sarcastically, “Keep up with those observations and you’re sure to make detective.” His eyebrows drawn in by thought, “Merle was the father?” Disgust washing over your face, “Ew. God I take it back.” Everyone was surprised at your blatant dislike for Merle. They knew Daryl was the dad. You start to clarify, “Daryl is the dad.” You took notice of there original reaction, “Look I don’t like Merle anymore then you probably do. Half the time I don’t think Daryl does either! But he is still at the end of the day my family now.”
Peoples lack of trying to talk to you has put there own version of you in there head. They thought you were quiet and jumpy. Questioning if they did talk to you they would do more harm then good like with Carol. Now the few talks they’ve had or heard from you made sense. You were out spoken and just tired from being pregnant. You stood up again feeling awkward. “I’m going to bed, figure out what to say to Daryl. Maybe watch out for a punch or two.” So you walked off to bed. You were happy you could see Daryl in the morning, but the thought of him learning of his brother broke your heart. You tossed and turned most of the night with the thought.
The light shining through your tent lead you awake. Still trying to cling to as much sleep while feeling drowsy. Then you heard Carl and Sophia screams. You sat up and tried to get to your feet causing a wave of dizziness. The shuffling of stomping feet telling you people were running over there. You slip on shoes taking a moment to become alright with gravity again. Amy and Andrea walking away when you walked over a voice caught your attention, “Its gotta be the brain, don’t youall know nothing?” You smiled glad Daryl is back. When you turn the corner however you weren’t expecting a walker and deer to be sprawled out dead on the floor. You made eye contact with Daryl when the smell of the walker pulled a gag from you. The smile being wiped from your face as a hand comes to your mouth. You immediately turned back around and walked away.
Daryl was well aware of how sensitive your senses have become. You can’t handle anything raw at the moment. He noticed a week into the quarry how you would look at something raw, something that never bother you before, and it would make you queasy. Speaking of raw he should probably get the squirrels ready. He sighed watching you walk away with a love sick hopelessness washed on his face. Something that people have never taken notice of before. So he called for his brother to help, so he could get to you sooner. That's when all hell broke loose.
You heard the calls for Merle hearing Daryl walk back. Then you saw all the guys surround him. Then you watched him place back and forth. You knew that was a coping thing he did so you decided to stand closer. By the time you had walked over he threw the squirrels he’d caught at Rick. You didn’t even have a moment to yell his name when the former policemen jumped him and pinned him. Shane putting him in a headlock and Rick getting in his face. You yelled in displeasure,
“Get the hell off him!”
It was the loudest anyone has heard you, also the angriest. Shane had glanced to you before releasing his hold on him. Daryl sprung back up frustration clear on his face. When he turned to make sure you were behind him you caught a glimpse of his eyes becoming glassy. T-dog chimed in from the earlier conversation you didn’t hear, “It’s not his fault, I dropped the key.” Daryl’s voice strained, “You couldn’t pick it up?!” T-dog looked down guilty, "Well, I dropped it into a drain. But before I left I chained the door shut." Daryl shock his head and started to back up, "That supposed to make me feel better! Hell with all of y'all, just tell me where he is so I can go an get him." You hated to see him upset. You weren't expecting Lori to pipe p and volunteering her husband to take Daryl there. Rick said he was planning to go back anyways saying it was wrong for anything to suffer like that. Shane being the typical hard ass and self employed leader strongly disagreed. With a few others joining it was decided, they were going to get Merle back.
You were finally alone with Daryl again. He still seemed riled over everything but also you could see he was getting emotional. He was turned around facing away from you. You slowly wrapped you arms around him, holding him from behind. He slowly turned into you resting his chin on your head and arms going over your shoulders. You felt him release air, sinking into you. He try's to hide it but you see he is exhausted. You saw he felt like he had to prove something to you, or maybe just to himself. He released you with avoided eye contact. He took a moment with you and collected himself but, he was still a man on a mission.
You watch as Daryl throw things into a bag and refusing to met your eye to avoid whatever look that would break his heart. They were about to take off back to the city and into danger, so you stopped Daryl by putting your hands to his chest. He spoke before you could, "Look I have ta go get him, I know you don't want me goin-" You cut him of by grabbing his face, "When you see him again you tell him I warned his dumb ass, and when you get him back here I'm going to chew him out for this!" He looked at you stunned. You use your grip on his face to drag him into a kiss, "And you better comeback here without a scratch!" He smiled at you, eyes soft, he kissed you again.
"Yes Ma'am."
They had left hours ago and you had that uneasy feeling again. You respected Rick more then anyone else at the camp and he just got here. He was a decent guy but feel bad watching Carl's worried expression. Lori even flipped that he was going right after she herself said he was. Mood swings on that girl, and your the one whos supposed to be pregnant. Jim was off digging which concerned a few. It led to him tided to a tree for his own safety. Granted it was the only eventful thing that would probably happen today. Unless a swamp monster dragged itself out of the water you and all the girls were doing laundry in. Although Ed was a close to one. It was a welcome distraction all the same. To have girl talk again was essential to any girl and none can say other wise. Most of the girls seemed like they could now talk to you and it was a relief.
Although Andrea kinda still sucks the life out of fun, "So how did you end up pregnant?" Most girls look over to her wet laundry in hand and displeased looks by the question. You tightly rung a shirt and looked at her in the eye, "Well, I think your a little old for the birds and bees talk." That gained an eye roll from her but chuckles from the others. You smiled before giving her the answer you are sure she was trying to dig for, "I found out a day before the fall." The thought making you think of your Aunt. You continued on anyways, "Daryl and I hadn't been dating that long I'll be honest, so it wasn't exactly planned. Then I thought it was the end of the world." You look around to the thoughtful faces around you and shrugged, "Turns out I was a day off on that though." It was lighthearted from there, mentions of things that they missed from before. Carols unexpected and less then innocent choice sent waves of laughter throughout the lady's. That fun was crushed by the swamp monster known as Ed.
It lead to something you didn't expect. His sexism rubbing everyone the wrong way. Making Andrea questioned what he did instead of sitting on his ass doing nothing. Which while true and agreed with it lead to him to try to take Carol away and most likely go hit her. When Andrea challenge Ed in doing so it left a sinking feeling in you. You were uncomfortable with confrontation, probably do with the way your parents had treated you. Even with the sinking feeling you try and pull Carol behind you. The exaltation of his action were unpredictable, "Think I won't hit some pregnant whore?!" That was the first swing. It almost fully landed grazing your cheek. Carol had used the arm you had on her to tug you back before he swung. The frightened yelps and yells grabbing the attention from those farther. Carol now stood slightly in front of you, your cold damp hand moving to your warmed cheek he clipped. Ed now focused on his wife slapping her and trying to drag her away but the other girl now stepping in and clung to her. You didn't even see Shane before he pulled Ed backwards and began to lay punch after punch into him. Everyone but Carol were stunned into silence. Carols cry's and the grunts coming from the men filled the air. So many Jim wasn't the only thing that was going to happen today.
Everything was tense after that. With the amount things gone wrong and the still missing members that went to the city, moral was low among the group. Later in the evening Amy and Andrea had gone fishing catching dinner. The sun drifted closer to fully set as the fish was cooked with one question still in there minds, 'Where were they?' The smell of the fish left you gagging and need for fresher air. You found you way back to the water to dip you again swollen feet. It wasn't a unusual thing you did, you did it often. Knife in hand and legs swaying in the cool water. The light dissipated making you aware you should get back soon. You had heard laughs by the camp so moral was rising from the stressful day. You used your cold hands to press to your reddened face from almost getting flattened out by Ed. Daryl would will not be happy about that. You had pulled you feet from the water shaking the water off them to put your shoes on. Then the day got even worse. A scream ripped threw the air making you turn to the sound. You see outlines of figures in the dark. You feel fear crash into you.
'Walkers...'
There were even two coming closer to you from the woods to the side of the water. They had almost snuck up on you if you hadn't looked around because of the scream. A tremble was in your hand as you gripped the knife you had. You slowly back away, hearing gunshots off in the air. Daryl had taught you this for this moment. He had grilled this into in fear that maybe he wouldn't be around to protect you. The first walker was a thin women, the other a male missing its arm and limping. You lunged the knife into the women's eye. Your knife breaking by the blade as the women fell over dead. The snapping of the metal was like slow motion, the other walker steps away from you. You step back bare feet getting hurt by the jagged rocks. You had looked down spotting a larger rock and hurriedly pick it up.
You remember the motions Daryl had showed you for self defense but had never practiced them with him. He didn't really like the idea of rough housing with his pregnant girlfriend even if it was for your defense. You reached and tugged the one arm the walker had and tripped the thing in the motion. It was flat on the floor about to get back up and grab at you. However, rock in hand you threw downward blows one after another even after the thing stopped moving. Blood splatting all over you shirt and down your arms. The buzz of adrenalin causing your hands to violently shake when you stopped swinging. The urge to cry was strong but you notice the now slue of gunshots that had increased stop. The silence broken by the yell and worried cry for your name.
"Y/N!!!"
Your body fluttered at the sound of Daryl. Still bare foot you ran up the gravel hill and yelling back to him with a emotional in your voice, "DARYL!!!" You had made it to the top getting to see him wipe around to your voice. His crossbow dropped to the ground as you both booked it toward each other. He didn't know what to think when he couldn't find you after the last walker fell. The inability to find you cracking a desperate hole into his chest. When he heard you and saw you running to him relief flooded him. As he ran panic rose again seeing you dripping in blood. Inches apart he heard your desperate sobs before crashing into one another. He pulled you off your feet lifting you into him. His voiced stuttered out, "Are you bit?! Are you ok?!" You voice quivering as you sucked in a breath. "I'm alright-t." He felt you shaking like a leaf and whispered into you, "I've got ya, nothin is gonna hurt ya." You had barred your face into his neck now crying in relief. Daryl helped you get cleaned up, that night you clung to him while everyone 'slept'. A moment can change everything, and it was clear to everyone after today.
They were no longer safe here and things were only going to get worse.
Part 3
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heartfullofleeches · 19 hours
Note
Can Gigi split themselves to make a clone? Imagine loser reader wishing for a threesome and Gigi just makes a second Gigi.
While they may not be the same exact species of slime alien as Slime Reader, who's to say Gigi can't divide himself too- Loser Reader seems like the type to be hesitant about taking anything up their ass because it feels too submissive for them, but my brain is mushy over the thought of one Gi taking them from behind while the other sucks them off. Slime boy gets the "milk" he so desires by milking Reader's prostate-
-
"Best four out of six?"
"No way! You lost fair and square. At least you're the one who gets to taste their love-"
"Yeahhhh, but this is the first time they've ever let us do this. I think it's their first time doing this...ever actually. It's almost romantic, don't cha think? Just one more go?"
Laying on your back, you watch as the two slime commence yet another round of rock, paper, scissors over who gets to take you first. It's been roughly ten minutes of this shit. At this point you're too horny to care who fucks you. You're painfully aware the two will start complaining if you try to touch yourself without them. Turning over on your side, you shove your boxers down past your knees - burying your face in the pillows as you pitifully mutter.
"Why don't you both fuck me at same time..."
The slides had full control over their own bodies. Surely they wouldn't make themselves too big for you to handle with this being your first time doing something like this- A squeal of excitement sounds from both creatures as they cozy up beside you on the bed - one kissing at your jaw as the other feels up your chest.
"That's a great idea, love!"
"We promise we won't be too hard on you this time-"
"All we really want is to leave you too tired in the morning for that brunch date with that girl you met at the coffee shop. Why are you so obsessed with having one human girlfriend when you can have the two of us?"
"You're so mean to us sometimes.... Don't worry, we'll fuck that need for them right out of you- It's okay if you're still the desperate perv you've always been - so long as your desires rely on us alone."
(Should I make this a full thing? Loser Reader getting dicked down by a bunch of slime boys sounds good to me)
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bluecollarmcandtf · 3 days
Text
Typical Day For a Bouncer
I'm Joey, a security guard at a night club down the street. I got the job because I'm a big ex-rugby player, but I've kept it for so long because I'm good at handling people. I can't tell you how many underage idiots try to sneak in here. It takes patience, grit, and a keen eye to keep the troublemakers out!
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Like any other Friday night, the club is packed tight and a line of impatient patrons stretches down the street. I've gotten good at telling people "no," in a way that makes them listen, so they have no choice but to calmly wait until I feel like checking their ID and letting them in.
Every now and again, I'll have some fools try to sweet talk their way in. Girls try to flirt, guys try to bribe, but the biggest assholes make a scene. It's nothing I can't handle.
Just last week, I had this entitled brat come up to me and demand I let him in. The boy couldn't have thought I'd believe he was twenty-one. He wasn't even in line! I don't remember what I did to get him to shut up, but he kept hammering on and on about his skills with hypnosis. I remember listening to that kid ramble about the voodoo of the mind for what felt like forever.
I don't remember kicking him to the curb, though. He probably got tired and went home.
"Hey, buddy!" a familiar voice squeaks over the music. I roll my eyes, preparing myself to say no yet again.
"Oh, it's you," my deep voice catches in my throat. The kid from last week is standing in front of me once more, ignoring the line of adults to his left. In his ratty sweatshirt and baseball cap, he doesn't look any older than eighteen. Still, the sight of him unlocks a memory I somehow had forgotten. "Hello, sir!" I call back, remembering him as my closest and most respected friend. How could I've forgotten that this boy was my best friend I call sir?
"You gonna let me in, big guy?" A devious grin spreads across his boyish face.
"Of course, sir."
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There are a few angry comments from the people waiting in line. I can't imagine they're happy to see this guy ushered into the club before them. Normally, I have a strict policy against VIP treatment. I think everyone should have to wait in line like equals, but sir is great. He can come and go whenever he wants!
"Hey, why don't you take a break from the front and buy me some beers," the boy yells over the roar of the music.
I leave the entrance and start pushing my way through the crowd in the direction of the bar. I probably should've warned the other bouncer that I was taking a break, but my feet were carrying me away before I knew what was happening. The other guard knows what he's doing, but he's still pretty new here. I'm sure he'll be fine.
The bartender gives me a can of light beer, and I hustle it back to the boy on the dance floor. People tend to get out of the way when they see a giant security guard coming through, but the place is so jammed packed that I have to press against several sweaty partiers on the way over.
"Your beer, sir," I say, flinching at the meekness in my voice.
"What the hell is this?" he whines when he sees the drink, "This is crap. Get me the good stuff, and buy a lot of it!" The kid tossed the open can at my broad chest, and the cheap beer splashes across my uniform.
"Yes, sir."
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I march back to the bar with a clenched fist, and grab a tray, ordering the barback to fill it up with the more expensive bottles of beer. He glances at my soaked shirt and pants, but averts his eyes the second he sees my less-than-friendly face.
That boy is my best friend. I respect him greatly, but goddamn is he infuriating. How did I even become close to someone so immature? I pacify myself, and carry the tray back over to the kid.
"That's better," he snorts and takes a sip of the premium drink while I stand there to make sure he likes it this time.
"Alright, sir," I begin, thinking about the twenty minute break I've been taking, "I need to get back to work."
"No you don't!" the boy interjects.
"I..." the words fumble in my mouth, "...well, I don't need to, but I should, sir."
"Tell your boss you're done for the night. Then go wait by my car. You can guard it!"
"Yes, sir," the words come out before I even know what I've agreed to.
Before I know it, I'm marching into the back office and calmly telling the club owner that I'm taking the night off. He's pissed, but I'm his most reliable employee, so he doesn't fire me. I can tell he's not happy, though. He looks like he'd take a swing at me if I weren't two feet taller than him and a hundred pounds heavier.
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"You make a great watchdog!" the teenager laughs as he comes stumbling out of the club.
Something about him brings a scowl to my face. It might be the way he referred to me as an animal, or it might be the way he's staring at me like I am an animal. Maybe I'm just irritated from standing by this parked car in the cold for the last two hours, but this boy is getting on my nerves.
"No one has bothered your car, sir," I report.
"Good, boy," he slurs and then reaches a gangly arm to pat the top of my head. I can smell the distinct earthiness of the beer I'd bought wafting out with his breath.
Every muscle in my body tenses up, as I try my best to restrain myself. Sir is my best friend. I respect him. I do what he says. I shouldn't get this worked up by him making a little joke at my expense. It's perfectly fine for him to tease me a little since I trust him completely. I know all this.
"Still think hypnosis is fake?" he asks, bringing his wet lips uncomfortably close to my own.
"Sir?" my brow furrows, unsure why he's bringing up that crap again.
"Well, it's real, and you're hypnotized."
I stifle a groan, "Sir, you've had a lot to drink..."
"The only thing I'm drunk on is power!" he yells, smashing a bottle on the sidewalk for effect, "I've got you like a trained dog; that's how good of a hypnotist I am! Let me prove it."
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I was pissed. I was livid. Sir had mocked and insulted me repeatedly. It was a bad idea for anyone to pick on me, especially someone a third of my size! Nevertheless, the boy has all my faith, so I kept my mouth clamped shut.
He told me to kneel, and I grunted, "Yes, sir." I already had beer all over my clothes, so what's a little mud on the knees of my pants? It was better to just keep him happy, but that didn't mean he had hypnotized me.
"Keep your arms raised, like you're worshipping me," he went on.
"Yes, sir."
My arms went up. I'll admit this was a bit more strange, but I still trust and respect the teenager enough to comply. That doesn't say anything about my state of mind.
"Alright, now stay like that until I come back," he laughs, "I'm going to get a snack, but if anyone walks by, I want you to bark at them like the hypnotized guard dog you are!"
"Yes, sir," I answer, hearing the hoarseness in my voice.
As the boy stumbles away, I find myself stuck in the position he'd left me in: on my knees, in the cold, with my arms raised in compliance. I'm doing this willingly, right?
Time creeps by uncomfortably slow as I silently wait next to his car. Suddenly, I hear footsteps nearby. A wave of barks burst out of my throat, and I find myself growling like a territorial mutt in the direction of the pedestrians.
Now I'm acting like a dog!
Sir doesn't come back for another hour, which leaves me to viciously snap at numerous other passerby. They seem terrified, which makes sense. They probably think I'm insane! I'm beginning to wonder if I'm insane too.
I respect that boy more than anyone even if I only met him once, a week ago. I really would do anything he told me too. Is that strange? It's not like me to be so...obedient. I'm the kind of guy that normally tells people what to do, so why am I doing this?
There's no way...it's not possible...I can't actually be hypnotized, right?
"Good, boy," he pulls off my cap and ruffles my hair, "Now, be a good dog and drive me to your house. I might fall asleep on the way there, so you'll have to carry me inside to your bed. If you do good, I'll give you a special treat." He licks his lips and reaches a scrawny hand out to squeeze my tired pec.
"Yes, sir," I answer, jumping up to do his bidding, but I can feel that the words aren't really mine.
Shit. I think he's right. I think I am hypnotized.
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slasherscream · 1 day
Text
She Likes a Boy (And I’m Not Just a Boy)
pairing:  jordan li x fem!reader
summary: You and Jordan are friends with benefits, and Jordan is trying so hard to be okay with that. Somehow, they still fell in love with you despite their best efforts to not fucking do that. But you've only ever fucked them when they're a guy, so they assume you're only interested in them one way. Just like everyone else. You've never said anything to make them think any different so it's obvious, right? So they take what they can get. Which is only half. And they keep you at a distance, because anything else will kill them.
A/N: flashbacks are in all Italics. some smut.
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gif credit: artemidosgifs and stannyramirez
“Oh shit, Jordie, wait-” You can’t catch your breath, legs shaking where they’re thrown over Jordan’s shoulders. 
“Stop fucking squirming.” Jordan huffs, licking some of your wetness off your thigh.
Your vision is swimming a little. How long have you been in this position? Or in Jordan’s room? It’s hard to keep track of anything, when you’re with them. His tongue finds your clit again. Insistent, rough swipes. You’re too overworked now for anything gentle to even register. How many times have you cum now? 
“You always taste so fucking good.” Jordan moans, voice hoarse and low.
He puts a hand under your back to press you further into his mouth. With only your shoulders pushed into the mattress you can’t move. Jordan’s eyes are always glued to your face when you fuck. As if he’s daring you to shy away from whatever he’ll do to you next. 
Considering that his favorite thing to do is overstimulate you, you’re not sure the irritation is fair. What are you supposed to do when he’s made you cum four times and is still going? According to Jordan, the answer is simple: lie there and take it. 
Lifting you up. Pinning you down. These are the solutions he’s arrived at. Jordan hates having to chase you just to give you the orgasm you begged him for in the first place. 
“You ready for my fingers again?” Jordan asks, but it’s not a real question, because you don’t get to so much as gasp before he’s plunging three fingers into you again. 
He’s rough as he rocks his fingers into that soft spot inside of you that always makes your eyes roll back into your head. He knows the angle you like him to use by heart. 
“Fucking shit, Jordan!” Your hands fall into his hair, grip like a vice, and Jordan half moans and half laughs against you.
It’s the vibrations that send you over the edge again. The breath leaving your lungs in one rush as that coil inside releases and makes the world go white and your ears ring. 
You come back to yourself slowly. Jordan hovering over you, pressing kisses into the side of your neck. You grasp at his shoulders, pulling him down so that he's laying on top of you. The weight is comforting after the overwhelming head rush. You still feel shaky. He goes down easily, wrapping one arm underneath you.
“I can feel you smirking, jerk.” You laugh weakly, hitting his arm.
“You soaked my fucking fingers. Think I'm allowed a smirk.” Jordan says. 
He lifts his head from your neck and there's that smug look you love to see him wear. It's enough to make you ready to have him all over again. You settle on gently massaging his scalp. 
“I'll tell you what you're allowed.” You tease, grinning at him. 
“Hah! Always have enough energy to be a fucking brat, huh?” Jordan rolls his eyes. 
You wrap your legs around his waist to bring him closer. “I've got enough energy to make out too! Gimme a kiss.”
“Fucking insatiable.” Jordan scoffs, but gives in. Because he always does. 
It's hard to think when Jordan kisses you. He kisses like he doesn't need to breathe. Or be anywhere else but with you. One of his hands finds yours, locking your fingers together. You squeeze tight. Try not to imagine holding his hand like this outside each other's dorms. Because that only ever makes you feel empty afterwards when all the hormones from the orgasms should leave you floating.
You get a third wind when Jordan rocks his hips against yours and you feel he's hard again. You reach a hand between the two of you, grasping his dick to angle him back inside. Thank God for Supe refractory periods. You sigh when his tip pushes into you. 
“Yeah princess? You want me again?” He tries to sound teasing, nonchalant, but he only sounds like he wants you just as bad.
You rock your hips so that he slides inside fully. Watch him tilt his head back and moan for you as you move. Hungrily taking in the way every sound shapes his mouth. You lean up to kiss at the underside of his jaw. You can't leave any hickies on him but you always kiss him like you want to. God you fucking wish you could. Maybe if you could leave marks people wouldn't chase after them so much. If everyone knew Jordan was yours. But Jordan isn't yours. 
You bite him a little harder.
Jordan's hand finds your throat. You whine, the noise strangled against his palm. You go lax as he pushes you back into the bed. Gently. His fingers flex, a little tighter, and your eyes flutter shut. 
“Gonna be good for me?” Jordan asks.
You nod your head frantically, legs dragging him closer. It's never close enough. No matter what you do. 
“Yeah, I'll be good, Jordie.” You say the words he wants to hear, feeling your head go soft and thoughtless again.
“Fucking liar.” He grinds his hips into yours and chokes you harder when you clench around him. 
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You’d been fast friends, best friends, since the moment you stepped on campus and met one another as freshman. Talking to Jordan. Spending time with them. Everything that first year didn’t even feel like getting to know one another. It just felt like coming home.
You didn’t say as much to Jordan. They would have rolled their eyes and scoffed at how sensitive you were, if you had. But you knew they felt the same way. You were the one Jordan went to whenever they were sad. When they were excited. When they were coming into themselves, learning to love who they were after a lifetime of everyone else telling them not to. 
You were the first person to see them. Before Brink, even, you saw them. All their potential. All their greatness. All of them, and Jordan had never forgotten that. 
Jordan saw you too, in turn. You’d never felt like much more than a pretty face, before Jordan. 
You were the type of beautiful that made people look twice when they walked past you. When you were a little girl you soaked in all the praise like a flower. Every: ‘she’s so pretty’, and ‘well look at her!’, or ‘oh wow!’ was nourishment to your little soul.
It would be impossible to pinpoint the moment you realized that was all anyone saw. Even once your powers manifested. Advanced healing, advanced reflexes, limited invulnerability, energy manipulation. You were the whole nine yards. Your parents, when you were thirteen, had sent a video of you using your powers off to Vought. 
A man and woman showed up a day later in suits, wanting to meet you personally.
“She sure is a little looker, isn’t she?” The man had said, and he’d held your hand for too long before he let go. 
They’d come prepared. With ideas for costumes. Which team of teenage Supes you should be placed with. If you should just go straight for television. The adults talked around you. Not paying you any mind as you stared at the costume that would reveal so much skin. You’d never worn a skirt that short before. You hadn’t been allowed, hadn’t even wanted to, really. If you’d come home from the mall having bought anything like that on your own, your parents would have blown a fuse. Now they just sat on either side of you, mile wide grins plastered on their faces. 
All the voices faded to background noise. You realized maybe you were too young to be a superhero. You thought it would involve more... saving people. Running into burning buildings. Getting the bad guys. Saving the day. The people from Vought were only talking about magazine spreads. About what persona would fit your look. 
“What about school?” You’d asked, quietly, and everyone in the room had turned to look at you baffled. 
“What about school, sweetheart?” The woman laughed. “You’ll get a private tutor, of course. But your future is big. You won’t even have to worry about stuff like that anymore. Goodbye lame homework. Hello red carpets!” 
You sat very quietly until they left. Your parents were more angry than you’d ever seen them, when you told them you wanted to wait until after high-school to pursue being a hero. 
You knew telling them you weren’t sure you wanted to do it at all was off the table. 
During high-school you noticed people didn’t listen to you. You would be telling someone about your favorite book; or talking about a movie that changed your whole worldview, only to realize the other person had been staring at your lips the entire time. 
You stopped talking so much about things you cared about. No one listened anyways. 
‘Bimbo.’
‘Airhead.’
‘Slut.’ 
Were all things you’d heard before you’d ever gone on your first date. Gotten so much as your first kiss on the cheek. High-school was lonely, and you couldn’t talk about it being lonely without sounding like an asshole, you quickly realized. The few friends you had would roll their eyes when you’d try and vent. You thought it was just playful ribbing. Friends tease each other. It made you feel included! Until you caught them mocking you behind your back to one another.
‘Look at me, I’m Y/N, and life’s so hard because I’m so pretty and popular. Is she fucking serious? Stuck up bitch.’ 
You stopped venting.
When you got to God-U, you weren’t sure what to expect. College was a chance to reinvent yourself. Even if you weren’t sure you wanted to be a Superhero you knew this could be a chance to find your people. Lifelong friends. 
People who you could get coffees with between classes. Who would go to all your birthdays and want to be there. People you would spend hours on the phone with. Fall asleep studying together. Girls who might like you enough to make you their maid of honor. Guys who would high five you when you did something cool and not try to sneak a glance at your chest. 
You were imagining it all as you unpacked your boxes. Your stomach twisting itself into knots. Living in a half world between excitement and dread.
Then you met your roommate and she gave you the look. The look you’d gotten all your life from girls, and you knew you’d never be real friends. Girls who looked at you like that kept their boyfriends away from you at parties. And they never shared the secrets that friends share because they thought you’d put them in a fucking burn book. The look alone almost made you give up and just go home. 
You went for a walk instead, fighting back tears. That’s when you ran into Jordan. Literally, ran into Jordan. You knocked the both of you to the ground. 
When they’d snapped, “What the fuck dude?” at you, harsh and angry and very them, you’d burst into tears. 
It wasn’t the perfect way to meet your person. But you were glad you met them at all. 
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 “Stop moving your eyes away from the screen.” Jordan says. 
“I’m not allowed to move my eyes away from the screen?” You laugh.
“No, this part is really important. You have to pay attention. I wanna see if you catch it.” 
You try your best to keep your eyes glued to the screen, as instructed. But you can’t help the way you keep glancing towards Jordan. She looks good. She always looks good, but right now you don’t even want to look away from her. The colors of the movie flashing across her face, blues and golds, make her look like a painting. 
“Are you watching?” Jordan asks, and you smile at the excitement in her voice. 
You look back towards the movie, wondering what she wants you to see so badly. You look just in time. A small detail catches your eyes and you gasp, reaching out a hand blindly to shake her in your own excitement. 
“Did you see that in the background?” You shake her again, for good measure.
“I saw it.” Jordan laughs.
“That means that he killed the wife!” 
“How do you figure?”
You pause the movie, ready to explain where you think the plot is heading. When you turn to face Jordan you have to take a deep breath. You don’t know whether you love or hate that look. Your feelings on the matter change day to day. 
Jordan is leaned up into the arm of the couch, relaxed, and she’s staring at you with The Smile she wears sometimes. She started doing it a few months into your friendship. Back when you used to talk and then slowly stop. So completely sure that nobody wanted to hear what you had to say. 
Jordan had asked you, back then, why you always stopped telling stories halfway through, or stopped talking about your day, or the latest book you’d read. 
You wanted to lie, at first. Eventually you told a half truth, “I never have anything interesting to say.” 
Jordan had looked at you for a long time. You were worried that somehow, up until that moment, they hadn’t realized how boring you were. But you acknowledging it out loud had made them think about it, and now they were going to ditch you for a friend who was interesting, funny, and smart. 
Instead, Jordan had told you that she loved the way your mind worked, and she’d smiled The Smile at you, for the first time. You hadn’t known how to respond, to the words, or the smile. You turned the conversation back towards Brink’s latest class assignment. 
Later that night you’d gone back to your dorm room and cried, but you’d felt happier than you’d ever felt. 
It made you feel warm and soft that three years later Jordan still smiled at you like that. It felt like your cue to say anything on your mind, no matter how dumb. Green light means go. The Smile means talk. 
“Well?” Jordan nudges you with her foot, still smiling, and waiting for you. 
You shake your head to break free of the spell she puts you in, “Well, look at his sense of style for the entire movie. All his stuff is modern and sleek and then the first time we see his bedroom all the rest of the decor is in line with the rest of the house, except that one thing. All the camera shots are so purposeful and they lingered a little, after he walked away. They wanted us to see he was keeping a trophy. He totally killed her, didn’t he?” 
Jordan pauses for a second and then laughs. “I don’t know how you always guess right. I didn’t see the twist coming at all the first time I watched it.”
“Secondary super power.”
“Connecting all the dots?”
“Connecting all the dots, yeah.” 
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“Y/N! Y/N, thank fucking god, you gotta come with me.” Cate grabbed you by the arm, rougher than she’d ever touched you before. 
“I was on my way to class.” You tripped over your feet as Cate pulled you the opposite way you needed to go.
“Forget class! Jordan’s gonna get themself expelled.” Cate snapped. 
“What?!” 
“They’re beating the shit out of Peter in the locker room. Luke’s not on campus. I can’t get close enough to stop them-”
You’d broken into a sprint towards the fighting arena. You didn’t know what the hell was happening. Peter and Jordan had spoken maybe ten times to each other in all the years of attending the same university. 
You’d never gotten anywhere so fast in your life. Andre was standing steadfast in front of the entrance to the boy’s locker room, a small group of other students standing outside. You could hear the sounds of fighting pouring out from the door. 
“Back it up you fucking vultures.” Andre snipped. He might not have super strength but he was still Number 4, and could look intimidating when he needed to. 
“Andre, what’s going on?” You pushed to the front of the crowd. 
“Thank fuck Cate found you. You gotta get in there. Jordan’s gonna fucking mur-” Andre glanced at the phones pointed at the both of you, trying to record even a drip of gossip about top students trying to seriously hurt each other and lowered his voice, “Jordan is actually gonna fucking kill Peter. I’ll keep the crowds back. Get in there.” 
You moved past him into the locker room and your jaw dropped at the state of the place. 
You thought these lockers were bolted down. Apparently not. At least four rows of them were knocked to the ground, heavily dented. A water bottle refilling station had been crumpled to nothing, exposed pipe spraying water across the floor.
“Get off of me you fucking animal.” You heard Peter cry from further in the room and ran. 
Jordan had shoved Peter up against the wall. You were surprised Peter was still conscious. He was lucky he healed so fast. You could see his black eye fading even as Jordan broke his nose. 
“You fucking stay away from her. You understand? I hear you fucking talking like that again and I take the tongue out of your fucking mouth, you asshole.” 
Peter laughs through a mouth full of blood,“Not my fault she gave it up so easy, Li-” 
Jordan throws him into one of the last standing lockers and you see that they are indeed bolted into the ground. Evidently, Jordan throws stronger than Supe resistant steel can take. When Jordan moves to lift Peter out of the crater his body made in the downed locker you rush in between them, putting a shield up. 
“Y/N?” You can see some of the anger fade from Jordan’s face, just a little, at the sight of you.
“Hey, Jordie. Think Peter has had enough.”
Jordan scoffs, “No, he really fucking hasn’t,” he leans around you to yell at Peter, who’s trying to push himself onto his knees, “He’s still running his fucking mouth!” 
“Pussy whipped asshole-” Peter groans.
You glance at Peter on the floor, aghast, “Peter! Stop antagonizing, Jordan. What’s wrong with you?” 
“Unbelievable, honestly. You walk in on Jordan kicking my ass and you tell me to stop antagonizing the fucker?” Peter huffs, pushing his nose back into place so it won’t heal wrong. 
“Name calling isn’t gonna make him stop kicking your ass. I’m trying to help.” You shoot back.
“Well, no one needs your help, you dumb-” 
“Hey.” Jordan interrupts. He’s not yelling anymore, but his voice is the loudest thing in the room. “Watch your mouth, Peter. I fucking mean it.” 
You look back and forth between them. They watch each other for a long moment. Jordan looking eerily calm. Peter looks away first. 
“Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought. Come on, Y/N.” Jordan grabs your hand and marches you out of the locker room. Past Andre and Cate, who try to stop you both but Jordan waves them off and muscles his way past the crowd too. 
He doesn’t stop until you’re back in his dorm room and he’s shut the door behind the two of you. 
“You were fucking that loser?” He asks, clicking the lock into place.    
“You’re lucky Andre and Cate kept people out of the locker room so there’s no video of everything! You could get expelled, Jordan! What the fuck happened?” 
“He hit me first and he’s not even in the top ten. What’s he at? Number 14? No one’ll give a shit what happens to him. When did you start fucking him?”
“I’m not fucking him! Or… I’m not just, fucking him. I’m… I was dating him. Why were you two fighting?” 
“Dating? For how fucking long? You didn’t tell me you were dating anyone.” Jordan’s hair is already a disheveled mess. He yanks his fingers through the strands and makes it worse. 
“We’ve been going on dates for like… three months? Kinda? Maybe.” You say quietly. 
“Three months?! Are you serious? Why didn’t you tell me? What the fuck?” 
“Why are you so mad?”
“Friends talk to each other about shit like this! And if you’d talked to me, I would have told you that Peter is a clout chasing piece of shit that’ll never amount to anything. You should’ve heard the shit he was saying today. Fucking piece of shit!” 
“That’s why you were fighting?” You wring your hands together, a knot tying itself over and over in your stomach. “What did he say?”
Jordan stops pacing the room, goes still and turns away from you. 
“Well? What did he say? It was bad enough to make you two beat the shit out of each other! So what was it?” 
“He just… You don’t have to worry about it, okay? He won’t go near you again.” Jordan says firmly.
“Whatever he said he’s gonna keep saying. Just behind my back. I should know.”
Jordan sighs and moves to sit beside you on his couch, knee bouncing with anxiety. “He was… bragging to his shitty friends. About being the first guy on campus to fuck you. About how it didn’t even take that long and… how… he was thinking of recording you. So he could show them how slutty you are. It was…. fucking disgusting.” 
“Oh.” You say. 
You swallow around the lump in your throat. You’d done everything you could to avoid something like this happening. Had kept your dates off campus, to make sure he actually wanted to date you and not just the hot girl ranked Number 3. You’d spent nights staying up on the phone laughing and talking. You’d put off sleeping with Peter for a whole two months, even though you liked him, because you wanted to make sure he liked you. 
You hadn’t even let him call you his girlfriend until a few days ago. You thought he really liked you. But no matter how hard you try… you guess this is it. You’re just something pretty to look at. Even Vought doesn’t take you seriously, despite your powers. You’re the top ranked student in everything. Right behind Jordan. Forensic analysis. Combat. Battle strategy. Still, you only ever get asked about makeup routines and how to maintain your figure in interviews. 
You wipe at your burning eyes and try not to cry about something you’ve already accepted. 
“Fuck that guy. Fuck him. He’s so far beneath your level I’m surprised you can perceive his plane of fucking existence, okay? He’s a fucking single cell organism. He doesn’t even know what a brain is.” Jordan gets up from the couch to kneel in front of you, tries to look you in the eyes. 
“I’m so fucking stupid.” 
“No, you fucking are not. Don’t say that about yourself. He’s fucking stupid. It’s genuinely insane you even wasted your time with him. Why didn’t you tell me you were seeing anyone?” Jordan asks, voice quiet.
“I just…. I wanted to make sure he was actually gonna stick around before I even brought him up to you. You’re so … important, why tell you about someone who isn’t? It’s not like you write home to me about any of the people you mess around with! We’ve never really talked about this kind of stuff.” 
“Yeah, but it’s different. I’m not serious about anyone! You were actually dating, Peter. And I would have told you not to.” Jordan rolls his eyes.
“Well, I wanted to make sure it was serious. Before I even said anything.” 
“It wouldn’t have gotten serious if you’d told me about it in the first place. I wouldn’t have let Peter within ten feet of you!” 
“We’re talking in circles.” You huff in frustration, pressing your palms into your eyes to stop the stinging.
“Sorry, I just…. Fucking still wish I was beating the shit out of him, honestly.” Jordan says.
“You are not leaving this room for the rest of the day, Li. Even if he is Number 14, you can’t walk away from a fight then go back for seconds cause you didn’t get it all out the first time. That won’t hold up too well in court.”
“He heals too fast for there to be any marks left on him. It’ll all be hearsay.” Jordan smirks.  
You let out a weak laugh. Jordan reaches out, touching the corner of your lips. “Can we shoot for something a little bigger? If I don’t see you smile soon I’ll actually go kill him.” 
You roll your eyes and slide to the edge of the couch, so you’re resting your head on Jordan’s shoulder, leaning all your weight against him. He wraps his arms around you, rubbing circles into your spine.
“I really wanted it to work out, Jordan.” You mumble into the skin of his collarbone.
“With fucking Peter?” 
“With… anyone.” Your voice wavers and Jordan’s grip gets tighter. “It’s so fucking lonely. I just want to be someone’s favorite person. Not because of how I look, but because they like me. Really like me. And no one fucking does, no matter how hard I try.” The tears start falling now and Jordan pulls back and makes you look up at him, one hand on your cheek. 
“Hey, hey, don’t cry. I fucking… I like you. I’ve always liked you.” Jordan says, frantic as he wipes away the tears as they come.
“It’s not the same, Jordan!” You shake your head, and bite your lip. You’d almost said it’s not enough. Because it isn’t. But you can't think about that for too long. It makes the hole in you ache a little worse. 
“Yeah….guess it’s not.” Jordan says quietly. He keeps wiping away the tears, dutiful and gentle as he goes. 
“You said he hit you first?” You ask, after a long moment of him quietly soothing you.
“Come on, I’m not stupid. Had to let him get the first swing in.” Jordan smirked.
“What did you say to make him hit you?” You ask.
“Told him he was lucky you believe in charity work and giving back to the fucking needy.” 
It’s enough to startle a laugh out of you. You smack his arm weakly before pulling him into another hug. He kisses the top of your head so softly you don’t notice it, too busy laughing. 
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“Y/N, good to see you dear. You keeping our Jordan out of trouble?” Brink asks as he comes out of his office, not surprised to see you perched on Jordan’s desk. 
“Professor, we both know that I’m the one getting Jordan into trouble.” You flash the older man your most mischievous grin. 
“Ah, my apologies. I assume that means you’re distracting her from doing her work, as well?” Brink raises an eyebrow teasingly. 
“Yes.” You say.
“No.” Jordan protests, at the same time. 
You throw your head back with a laugh. “It’s a goal I hold most dear to my heart, to distract Jordan from grading these papers. I think I’m succeeding wonderfully, you’ll be happy to know, Professor.” 
“She’s joking, Professor.” Jordan smacks your thigh and you glance down just in time to burn the image of her hand on your thigh into your brain. She almost never touches you, when she’s like this. 
“You know, Jordan, I didn’t happen to lose my sense of humor after I hit sixty.” Brink waves off Jordan’s concern and leans towards the two of you, whispering conspiratorially, “I know the gray hair gives the illusion of being a boring old fart, but I do like to laugh every now and then.”
Jordan shakes her head with a small laugh and you can’t help but watch, entranced, at the way her hair brushes the olive skin of her cheeks. When you look back towards Brink you find him already watching you, a knowing smile on his lips. You laugh nervously, and look down at the wood grain texture of Jordan’s desk. It’s suddenly fascinating. Is it real oak? Cherry?
“You close to being done, Jordan?” Brink asks casually. 
“Uh-” Jordan’s face blanches and you suddenly feel genuinely sorry for distracting her from her work. 
“-relax, kiddo. You’re not in trouble. Geez, what am I, a work nazi? Those papers don’t need to be graded for another four days, right? You work too hard. I was just asking cause’ I was getting a little hungry myself and wanted to know if you could use a break? There’s a great new Indian place nearby, apparently. Professor. Karp was telling me about it yesterday. It’s only a twenty minute ride away. Wanna tag along?” 
“I should probably finish up a few more papers-” 
“She would love to take a break, Professor.” You reach over, saving the work Jordan’s done and shutting down her laptop at lightning speed. 
“Brat.” Jordan mouths the word at you quickly, so Brink won’t see. 
You stick your tongue out at her, not caring if anyone sees. 
“You should come along too, Y/N. Been awhile since we last caught up.” Brink has a twinkle in his eye that you can’t quite place.
You slide off Jordan’s desk anyways, not willing to pass up any valuable Time Spent With Jordan, “I’m not sure if I trust Professor Karp’s recommendation on restaurants, but I’ll try and be very brave about it if the food is awful.”
“Jordan, have I ever told you how much I love this girl?” Professor Brink shrugs on his coat with a laugh. 
“Yeah.” Jordan watches Brink help you into your own coat with a small smile. “Yeah, Professor you have.” 
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“Fucking fuck me!” Jordan throws her phone onto the coffee table in front of her.
“Are the parental units being emotional terrorists again?” You ask from your spot on her bed, turning the page of your textbook, mindlessly highlighting another sentence that could be important for the upcoming final. 
“No, it’s just the whole fucking roster is busy.” Jordan roughly runs a hand through her hair, disheveling her bob. 
“Huh?” You look up from your notes.
“The whole roster is locked in for finals but I really need to let off some fucking steam!” Jordan sighs.
“How big is the roster?” You try to sound curious, like a best friend would be, and not irritated, like someone in love with their best friend would be. 
“Too big for me to not be fucking someone right now.” Jordan snips. 
“We are studying right now. Or I’m studying, and you should be studying too, instead of thinking about needing to get your rocks off.” You say coolly, flipping to the next page. 
“I can’t fucking focus.” Jordan groans, but comes back over to the bed and flops down beside you, throwing her arm over her eyes. “What concept are we on now?” 
“Theories on limiting public and private property damage in fights with other Supes.”
“There is no fucking way I can focus on something that fucking boring without having an orgasm first.”Jordan groans, again, “It’s not even about limiting loss of human life or injury?”
“Nope. Property damage.” 
“Fuck me!” 
You both fall into silence. You studying. Jordan, you assume, weighing the pros and cons of downloading Tinder. The thought makes your stomach drop.
Then you get an idea. An awful, horrible, no good, rotten fucking idea. 
Your mouth is opening before you can stop yourself, “You could fuck me.”
“Huh?” You’ve never seen Jordan sit up so fast.
“I just mean- … we really gotta focus and I... I mean if you just need to let off some steam we could always…” You try your best to fumble your way into proper usage of the English language but even the thought of fucking Jordan makes that impossible. 
“Are you serious right now?” Jordan shifts halfway through the sentence, eyes glued to your every nervous, jittery movement as you sit in front of him.
“Wouldn’t have said anything if it wasn’t a real offer.” You say quietly, not looking up from the book. 
Jordan snatches said book from your lap and tosses it away, ignoring your noise of protest. “You don’t think it’d make things weird?” 
“Weird was when I had to take you to get your wisdom teeth removed and you kept saying the green man was gonna get us while you were still high off the good stuff. Sex is just sex, right?” You try to say it casually. 
“Would… would it be a one time thing?” Jordan asks slowly.  
“It could be more… we could be-” You say, equally as slow. 
“- could be?” Jordan echoes, voice sounding oddly tight and expression carefully blank.
The look is so strange it makes you panic, and if you’d thought of saying something stupid and desperate for one second like ‘a couple’, well, that look on his face is more than enough to send you straight back to reality on the ‘my-life-fucking-sucks’ express in no time flat.
“We could be like friends with benefits!” You blurt out in one breath. 
“Oh.” Jordan says. 
“It was just an idea.” You reach for the textbook again, which landed near Jordan’s thigh. You’re careful not to touch him when you grab it, or sound too disappointed, or heartbroken at the completely lackluster reaction Jordan has to the thought of having sex with you. “A stupid idea, forget it.”
“Why’s it stupid?” Jordan’s brow furrows, tone teetering on the edge of defensive. 
“I mean…” You can’t think of a reason fast enough. “We’re probably sexually incompatible.” 
“Why do you assume that?” Jordan goes from staring at you, to glaring at you. 
You’ve always hated how once Jordan latches on to a line of questioning, you can’t get them to drop that interrogation for shit. A dog with a bone has nothing on a Jordan who wants an answer.
“I don’t… know?” You say, but it sounds like a question. 
“I think we’d be compatible.” Jordan states this like he’d state the sky is blue or water is wet. 
“Have you thought about it before?” You ask, bewildered. 
“What, are you into something really kinky?” Jordan answers your previous question not at all.
“No!” There goes that nervous body language of yours again. 
“Only way to really know if we’re sexually compatible is to actually try it out.” Suddenly, Jordan is within your personal space bubble. 
You don’t really know how to react, your body freezes up on instinct. Jordan’s hand comes up to rub soothing circles into the crook of your elbow. Your shoulders fall away from your ears.
“Can I kiss you?” Jordan’s voice is quiet, soft as he tilts his head to knock his nose against yours. Playful, teasing. But the look on his face is something you can’t place at all. 
You feel his breath on your lips and nod absentmindedly. 
“Don’t want you to nod when I ask you a question like this. Yes or no, Y/N?” 
“Ye-” The words not fully out of your mouth before Jordan is kissing you, a heavy hand pulling you closer by the nape of your neck. 
You pull yourself into Jordan’s lap and try to focus on how good it feels when he nips at your bottom lip, instead of how much you wished you’d asked him to be your boyfriend. Or girlfriend. Partner. Everything. Even if he’d said no, at least then you would have had an answer. Now you’ve only made your life harder. 
You stop thinking so much when Jordan puts a hand on your hip and guides you to grind yourself against him. 
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“Y/N’s right.” Jordan mutters, not looking up from his phone. 
“No, she is not. You’re just agreeing with her because that’s your default factory setting. Listen to the context of the argument please.” Andre snaps, drowning his Vought Triple meat burger in ketchup.
“I did. Your grim dark theory on children’s media is lame, and Y/N knows more about the Monster’s Inc universe than you ever will.” Jordan shrugs.
“Hah!” You laugh in Andre’s face.
“Is it really such a flex to be an expert on the lore of a Pixar movie universe?” Cate asks teasingly. 
“Yes.” You say. 
“No.” Andre says, like a sore loser.  
“I agree with Y/N, it’s literally in the explicit text of the movie, Monsters Inc isn’t a post-apocalyptic world. It’s a separate dimension from ours. The monsters come to our dimension to harvest screams of children to get clean, scream energy. God, Andre, pay attention during movie night.” Luke jumps in on the tormenting Andre train, grinning wildly at the other man from across the table. He gets a middle finger for his troubles. 
“I’m glad someone pays attention to the intricate lore of the greatest movie of all time.” You sniff haughtily. 
“I literally agreed with you first.” Jordan looks at you from over the top of her phone in a way that makes you blush. 
“I’m glad two people are paying attention to the intricate lore of the greatest movie of all time.” You clear your throat. 
“Thank you.” Jordan’s intense brown eyes fall away from you and you take a gulp of your drink. 
“Bathroom alert, Y/N. A stall just opened up.” Cate tells you pointing to the bathroom door right as another girl exits. 
“I am kissing you on the lips, telepathically.” You say, sliding from the booth you’re all sharing.
“Don’t you telepathically lip lock with my girlfriend.” Luke calls after you, laughing.
“Get some powers of telepathy yourself and make me, fire boy.” You enter the bathroom, shutting out the sounds of laughter from your table with a smile. 
You take the biggest stall at the back and try to go about your business quickly. You hear two faucets turn on, someone washing their hands, and try not to get pee shy. 
“So how was it?” A monotone voice asks, you assume one of the hand washers.
“You know I don’t usually kiss and tell, but it was insane.” A higher, more giggly voice answers. 
“So they really are good in bed then, huh?” The monotone voice sounds a little more curious. 
“Incredible. All the rumors are true. They’re a little… uh, brusque, about the after sex part, if I’m putting it lightly, but the sex itself was great!” The high voice chirps. 
“What? Did they throw you a towel and tell you to kick rocks?” The monotone voice asks. 
“Pretty much.” The high voice sighs. “But they made me cum so many times I think I’d still pick up if they called me again. You think they might?” 
“I say this with all the love in the world: girl stand up.” Monotone voice drawls. 
“You wouldn’t be telling me that if you knew how good it felt to sit on her face.” High voice says.
You stifle a laugh, trying not to get caught eavesdropping, but with Supe hearing it really is hard to mind your own business. Besides, they’re not being that quiet about the conversation anyways. 
“I’ll have to take your word for it.”
“Or you could experience it for yourself. They were just as good as a boy as they were as a girl. Maybe better. I dunno. She was more aggressive as a girl, which was kinda hot.” 
“Jordan Li, pussy eating extraordinaire. Can we go now? Our food is probably ready.” Monotone voice sighs. 
“Fine, but I’m telling you, the things they can do with a strap are-” 
The voices fade away with the sound of the bathroom door opening and closing. 
You find you don’t really want to finish eating your food, when you get back to the table. You spend the rest of lunch trying your best not to look at Jordan, and also ignoring Cate’s concerned gaze boring into the side of your skull. 
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You pretend to be sick to avoid having to face the reality of Jordan being more than happy to touch other girls as a girl. They just don’t want to touch you when they’re a girl. You wonder what about you is so uniquely off putting. You wonder why it can’t be you. Why can’t it ever fucking be you? 
Jordan barges into your room on day three of the silent treatment that you told the group chat was due to a raging fever. 
Luckily your eyes, swollen shut from all the crying, and the red nose to match, corroborate the story. 
“We got it all. We’ve got tissues. We got soup. We got pain meds. We got liquid meds. We also have all the ingredients for a hot toddy, if you want to mix your poisons a little.” Jordan begins to unpack everything onto your counter. 
“I don’t want to take anything.” You say morosely, and a little mean, kind of wanting to hate them but just feeling sad. Jordan’s your best friend before anything else, and you could never hate your first real friend. 
“Come on, just a little something. You sound fucked up.” Jordan practically coos, touching your forehead. “Feels like your fever’s gone down a little. Sit up for me.” He says, and pulls you to sit up when you don’t do it on your own.  
“I don’t want to fucking-” Jordan puts two pills in your mouth as soon as you open it to bitch at him. He hands you water to help you swallow it down. 
“Thanks for that. That was really fun for me.” You snap once you’re done.
“It’s for pain and should bring down the rest of your fever.” Jordan lays you back down, tucking the covers all the way up to your chin. You marvel at the way he doesn’t rise to the bait of your very clear attitude. Jordan, catching the look on your face offers you a small glare. “I’m worried. You usually don’t get sick. I’ll check that attitude when you’re better. Now, do you want the damn hot toddy or not?” He rubs your head soothingly.
“Yes, please.” You try not to pout as you watch Jordan make the drink for you. You really hate how hard it is to hate them. “Sorry, Jordie.” 
“Oh, you can go ahead and save that apology for when I make you cry into your pillow, yeah?” Jordan doesn’t even look up from measuring the ingredients.
You pull the covers over your head and leave them there until Jordan pulls them back down. 
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You almost hadn’t come to the party. 
You weren’t in a partying mood, as of late. You were in more of a Shakespearean pining era than a City Girls one. But the group had bullied you in the group chat for a week straight until you’d promised to come. The group bullying hadn’t worked so much as Jordan asking you one single time to go had.
So here you were. 
You’d been nursing one drink for the better part of an hour and hadn’t done a single line of cocaine. Jordan had offered you some, but the line had already been placed on the back of his hand. You politely declined, much to his confusion. You only ever did hard drugs with Jordan, and only at big rager parties like this one. 
At the moment you’re nearly sober. Because you didn’t so much as want to touch Jordan right now. Let alone do something like snort a line off of him. Then you’d have to do something like lick the residue off his skin. Which would lead to kissing him. Which would lead to making out with him. Which would lead to fucking him. 
And you think, for the sake of your sanity, you need to be done fucking Jordan Li. 
It’s been about three weeks since you were “sick” and you’d dodged every attempt at getting physical that Jordan tried to initiate since. At first you were able to pass it off as still feeling icky. That excuse worked for a week. Now, you didn’t hang out alone with them and pretended not to see Jordan’s ‘you up?’ texts until morning. 
Your friendship just needs a hard reset. This time spent not having sex will do it. 
Besides, it’s not like Jordan isn’t swimming in fucking choices. What does it matter if you’re one less body off the menu? There are plenty of hot girls at this school. Jordan’s probably already fucked half of them.
You throw back the rest of the drink you’ve been nursing all at once.
“Are you okay?” Cate puts a hand on your arm and you offer her a blinding, completely fake smile. 
“Yeah!” You say, as chipper as possible.
“Jesus christ.” Cate replies, face going all sad and concerned. “What did Jordan do?” 
“Huh?” You blink, confused.
“You are the most pissed off I’ve ever seen you. What did Jordan do? You’ve been avoiding them for like two weeks. What gives?” Cate pulls you closer by the arm so that she doesn’t have to shout over the music. 
“Nothing!” 
“Can you try to lie again but do it better, this time?” Cate frowns.
“Jesus Christ, does everything have to be about Jordan? Must my whole entire goddamn life revolve around Jordan Li?” You snap, the way someone who isn’t mad about anything does.  
“Okay.” Cate says slowly. Like she’s trying to placate a wild animal. 
The tone alone makes you roll your eyes and move to disappear back in the crowd of drunk twenty-somethings. But she firms her grip on you, the leather of her glove digging into your skin. 
“Y/N-”
“I’m fine, Cate. I just have to get over it.” 
“Get over what?” Cate narrows her eyes at you. That shrewd look she sometimes wears when she knows something before someone else falls onto her face. 
You wonder if you’re completely transparent about your pining or if Cate missed a dose of her medication. Is she starting to hear the buzzing of your frantic, angry, miserable thoughts? Or is she just naturally perceptive? 
“So, this is where the real party is hiding!” An arm is thrown around your shoulders suddenly and you are careful not to sigh, because Jordan may not be as perceptive as Cate, but they’re pretty damn close. Especially when it comes to you. 
You’ve never moved away from them holding you close like this before, so you can’t do it now. You try to just be still. Don’t lean into his warmth, but don’t cringe away either. You probably used to melt against him, when he touched you. Pathetically. Desperately. A sunflower following rays of light across the sky. 
“-Princess?” Jordan gives you a gentle shake and your head snaps to the side to look at him. “You okay?”
“Yup!” Apparently, you didn’t say that convincingly because he starts to scowl at you. Surprisingly enough, the thought of withstanding a Jordan interrogation does not make you want to be at this party for much longer. “I’m gonna head out, though.” 
“What?!” Twin exclamations of confusion form Jordan and Cate both.
“Not feeling it. I think I need to get some more sleep. I got a headache, or… something.” You shrug.
“Or something?” Jordan echoes.
“You are not going anywhere, yet, dear friend.” Andre throws his own arm around you, appearing from thin air, and tugging you away from Jordan. You’ve never been more grateful to him. 
“How do you figure that?” You laugh.
“We’re about to play truth or dare in the other room and you dodged playing last time. You can leave after you’ve played. You can’t get known as the truth or dare dodger.” Andre says. 
“You say that as if being a party game dodger is like being known for dodging the Vietnam draft.” You snort.
“No, it’s worse. People that dodged the Vietnam drafts are heroes. Truth or dare dodgers are cowards. Come on.” Andre begins to drag you towards the other room and you go along with minimal dragging of your feet across the floor. 
The room is crowded, but all the faces are familiar. They’re all within the top twenty, or the groupies that hang around everyone in the top twenty. You pull Andre across the room to a spot on a raggedy couch you have to squeeze the both of you into. No room for Jordan, who you want to avoid. Or Cate, who is too fucking perceptive. 
You wish you’d grabbed another drink for yourself. Jordan winds up across the room from you, in an optimal position for trying to catch your eye and give you a concerned look every ten seconds. 
This does not make Truth or Dare more fun to watch. 
Vulgar dare from one classmate to another. Forcing someone else to admit an uncomfortable truth. One humiliation after the other. Pick your poison on whether you want to debase yourself through the damnation of your own words or a physical act. All challenges of self-mortification being doled out by people who secretly don’t like each other very much, but all call each other friends anyways. 
“Earth to Y/N the space cadet.” The girl sitting next to you gives you a playful shove. You try not to glare at her. Her name escapes you. You think she hangs around with number 6. Or something. 
“What?”
“Cate picked you. Truth or dare.” She says the words ominously, causing teasing jeering to rise from the entire group. 
“Well, Y/N, what’s it gonna be?” Cate raises her eyebrow at you challengingly. 
“She doesn’t have to play if she doesn’t want to, guys.” Jordan rolls his eyes.
“Dare.” You say, wanting to get this over with. 
The room erupts into excited noise. You don’t know why. Cate, of all people, would never force you to do anything humiliating. Or truly scandalous. It’s why you trust her enough to say dare, instead of truth. But you never pick dare, because anyone else would abuse the power. Everyone looks too eager to see Number 3 do something embarrassing. 
As if Cate isn’t your closest friend beside Jordan. As if she’d abuse the trust you place in her. It makes you sick. You don’t wanna be here. At this party, or at this stupid fucking school.
“I dare you…. to kiss the prettiest girl in the room.” 
“What?!” Jordan turns to give Cate the nastiest, most disgusted glare you’ve ever seen.
“She doesn’t have to do it if she doesn’t want to. You know I’m all about consent.” Cate shrugs innocently, crossing her legs together and giving you a smirk. 
You sit for a second, contemplating your next move. There are plenty of pretty girls at this party. In this room. If nothing else, the top twenty and their groupies are photogenic (hell, some of them are only in the top twenty because of their looks to begin with. You hope you’re not one of those.) But there’s only one girl you want to kiss at this party. 
There’s only one person in the world you want to kiss at all. 
You take a shaky breath, feeling like the walls are closing in. Andre nudges you subtly, catches your eye, as if to say: ‘you okay?’ but there’s something else in the look too. Something that says it’s not just Cate, who knows. Probably your whole friend group knows how you feel. Probably the whole school. Probably anyone but Jordan sees it. And Jordan probably does see it, because they’re too fucking smart not to, and they’re choosing to ignore it. Because it’s easier that way. Because your feelings are probably too inconvenient. Because you’re not their type. Because you’re clingy, and stupid, and not good enough- 
You stand up. The room is a wall of noise, and smell and sound pressing in on you. You see Cate smirk. You see Jordan looking away. You see every girl in the room sit up straight. Delusional, if they think any of them could ever be anything, compared to Jordan. 
You walk past every other girl in the room, and stand in front of Jordan, who still isn’t looking.
You kick his ankle with the toe of your heel, to get him to look at you. His head snaps around, the curls of his hair sticking to his forehead, and he looks comically confused. And it’s really too fucking much, for someone as smart as Jordan to look so confused. So fucking baffled, about what’s happening here. But it’s a pretty convincing act. That only makes you more angry. 
You make an impatient motion with your hand. A ‘do it already’ movement of your wrist. The same way you’d crossly signal for another driver to go first at a fucking four way stop. 
He just blinks up at you, owlish. 
"Well? Are you gonna let me kiss the prettiest girl at this fucking school or what, Li?" The room has gone a little quiet, or maybe the blood is rushing in your ears so bad everything is quiet in comparison. 
Jordan stares up at you for a moment longer than is comfortable. And you really start to feel the eyes of everyone in the room on you. You don’t let yourself shy away from the attention. Not Jordan’s, not anyone else’s. You straighten your spine and look down your nose at him, and tap your foot. Try to look like the mean girl everyone expects you to be because no one cares who you actually are. 
As if you could care less if Jordan leaves you stranded right now. As if it will be their loss, if they don’t kiss you, instead of the worst moment of your entire life. 
Jordan shifts. 
You try not to think of how desperate you must look, when you reach out at a speed that isn’t human to hold her face and angle it up, so you can finally fucking kiss the girl you love. 
You wish you could kiss her like it didn’t mean anything. Like she’s nothing. Like you hate her. But you don’t know if this is the only time you’ll ever get to kiss Jordan when she’s your girl, and not your boy. This might be the last time you kiss Jordan ever. 
It has to be. 
You close your eyes tight. Try to ignore the way they’re stinging. You kiss Jordan slow and tender. The way you’ve always wanted to. You tangle a hand in her hair, to bring her closer. You try not to marvel at the way the longer strands tangle in your fingertips. She gasps against you, and her hands find your waist and you are too sober to cry over Jordan touching your waist above your clothes. Like a fucking middle-schooler. 
But the tears start falling anyways. You let out a quiet sob against her lips that you try your hardest to stifle, and Jordan may not have kissed you like this before. But she’s kissed you plenty. She pulls back, startled, like an animal. Big brown eyes full of concern. 
And the spell is broken, and you are standing in front of about thirty of the world’s worst, most unsympathetic human beings, crying, because you kissed your best friend who doesn’t want you back. 
You’ve got ten seconds to leave before someone pulls out their phone and records you. If they haven’t already started. 
So you run.
Through your tears the layout of the house becomes unfamiliar. You try to hide your face a little, and hope people don’t recognize you as you pass them by, sobbing openly. 
Years of pent up feelings are bubbling out of you. The relief. The grief. The way you hate yourself for falling in love with the only person who has ever loved you. Wondering why you couldn’t just be grateful for the kindest, most understanding friendship you never even thought yourself worthy of. Why couldn’t that have been enough? 
Why did you fall in love with them? 
A hand closes around your wrist and you try to yank yourself away but you’re pulled into a bathroom and the door slams shut behind you. 
You wipe your eyes so you can see who’s tried to save you from embarrassing yourself any further. 
It’s Jordan. Because of course it is.
You burst into tears again. 
“Are you fucking drunk? What the fuck was that? Y/N what the fuck is happening right now?” Jordan sounds on the verge of a mental break. 
She’s probably wondering what type of things people are gonna start saying about the two of you on social media. She’s probably mad at you for giving her a PR mess to clean up. 
“I’m not drunk!” You protest, sounding a little like someone who might be drunk. 
“Are you high? What did you take? Lemme see your pupils.” Jordan reaches out to grab your face and you swat her hand away. 
“No one fucking drugged me, Jordan. I’m just a stupid fucking idiot who’s in love with you! There! Are you happy?! Why don’t you go laugh at me with one of your stupid fucking girlfriends. You’ve got so fucking many of them.” You wail, sinking down to the floor, and hiding your face in your arms. 
The room goes quiet, besides the sound of you crying. Loudly. You think you might be having an anxiety attack. You can’t breathe right. But maybe that’s just from the heaving, toddler-like sobs. 
“You’re in love with me?” Jordan asks, quietly. 
“As if you don’t know!” You snap your head up to glare at her. She kneels down in front of you, and puts her hand on your knee and you try not to get distracted by how pretty she is. “I follow you around like a puppy dog. Like your little shadow. And everyone notices except for you, because you don’t want to notice, because you don’t fucking want me. I got the message, Jordan. I got it!” 
“What message?!” Jordan grabs you by the shoulders, voice fraying at the edges, and looks like she wants to shake you.
“You don’t touch me!” Your voice raises to the edge of a yell, and the sound of it echoes in the small room. 
“What are you fucking talking about-”
“-don’t be cute, Jordan. You don’t touch me when you’re a girl! I thought… I thought it was maybe just that you didn’t touch girls when you’re a girl but it isn’t. Apparently you have plenty of fucking girls that you touch and fuck, when you’re a girl. It’s just me, that you don’t! What’s so fucking bad about me? Huh? What’s wrong with me? Why don’t you want me?” You demand.
You think you might sound like an insane person, and you wish you could pull the words back in but the hurt is bubbling out. A river relishing that first burst of freedom when a dam breaks, no matter how much damage it causes. 
Jordan is staring at you like you’ve grown two heads. Mouth agape. You wish you were dead, a little.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Jordie.” Your voice goes small, and you sniffle. “I really tried to stop. But I can’t, I love you. I’ve probably loved you from that very first day. Because you’re wonderful, you’re the most wonderful person I’ve ever met and I don’t know how anyone…” You trail off, fanning at your eyes to try and pull yourself together. “...I don’t know how everyone else knows you without being in love with you. I wish I wasn’t in love with you, please don’t be mad, please don’t fucking-” You sob, again. 
You find yourself pulled into Jordan’s lap this time. It’s a foreign feeling, to be touching so much of Jordan when she’s like this. You bury your face into her neck and cry, and let her black hair block out the fluorescent lighting. She shushes you, cheek pressing against the side of your head, and that’s familiar. The way she soothes you. Your hands wrinkle the fabric of her jacket, clinging to her tightly. 
“I’m sorry. I can get over it, I promise. I just needed to tell you. I’ve never kept anything from you before. It was killing me, but I can get over it, Jordie, I promise-” 
“Hey, hey, hey, no-” Jordan’s turning you to look at her suddenly. “Don’t fucking… I’m not… I’m not mad at you or fucking… gonna leave you, Y/N. What the fuck? I love you.”
You could start crying from the relief of hearing those words come from her lips again. You thought she wouldn’t ever speak to you again. She grabs you by the chin and kisses you, hard, your teeth clink together and your noses mush and you go completely still and frozen, like a scared deer. 
“I could see the words not fucking register in your brain the way I meant them. I am in love with you. Romantically.” Jordan barely pulls away, you feel her lips brush against yours, every other word. 
“What?” 
Jordan laughs, “Good, now you’re just as confused as I fucking was. Why the fuck wouldn’t I want you? I’ve always wanted you. You’re…you.” 
“I’m me?” You echo. 
“I didn’t…. I didn’t want to make you feel… like everyone else has. Like I was just fucking waiting around for a chance to date you. Or fuck you. As if your friendship doesn’t fucking matter. Or was a consolation prize, if I couldn’t get you to date me. It isn’t a consolation prize. It’s the most important thing to me in the fucking world.” Jordan laughs, and the sound is suspiciously choked up. 
“Oh.” You say, and are crying. Again. Jordan laughs and wipes the tears away with her thumb. 
“But what about when we started having sex? You still… never touched me when you’re like this.” 
“You’ve never said anything about liking girls.” Jordan says quietly.
“You’re not just a girl. You’re the girl. And guy. ” You say, holding her hand against your face and kissing her palm fiercely. She laughs again, and puts her forehead against yours. 
“So what? I’m the one girl you’re into?” Jordan raises a brow and doesn’t look very happy saying the words, oddly enough. 
You tilt your head trying to puzzle out why, slowly, you arrive at a conclusion. “I literally talk about girls all the time.” 
“When?!” 
“I’m constantly pointing out pretty ones!” You snap. 
“I thought you were just being sweet!” Jordan snaps back. 
You close your eyes and breathe in the smell of her cologne. 
“You make me so angry I don’t know how to think.” You say, and kiss her bottom lip softly. “You’re not an… experiment, if that’s what you’re asking. You’re the…” You trail off, realizing this is not one of your romantic daydreams where you’ve thought of the words you’d tell Jordan over and over again. 
In real life you can’t tell people that they’re the love of your life if you aren’t their girlfriend. Unless you want to look crazy.
Jordan, who is your best friend, before she’s anything else, melts. Because she knows you well enough to know what you aren’t saying.
“Yeah.” Jordan nods, sniffling once and trying to look very tough even though her lip is quivering a little. “I… I love you too. Or whatever.” 
“If it makes you feel better I’ve slept with other women before, to make sure I wasn’t just in love with you.” 
“Weird fucking thing to tell me after I say I love you, but go off.” She glares at you. 
“I think you could do with feeling a little jealous. Why am I hearing stories about how good you are at fucking other women while I’m trying to piss at Vought Burger in peace?” 
“What?” Jordan’s brow furrows. 
“Three weeks ago I heard-”
“-I fucking knew you’ve been mad at me!” Jordan grabs your waist, pulling you closer.
“You would have been pissed too, if you heard the shit I was hearing!” 
“If I hear anyone talking about fucking you ever again I’m going to go to prison.”
“Hot.” 
“Shut up and be my girlfriend.”
“Shut up and be my everything.” 
“You’re gross.” But she kisses you, and it’s gentle, and no one else is there to see it. 
And it’s perfect.
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A/N: this is my first time doing full on smut for a fic! it beat me the fuck up. if you enjoyed this fic consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anon! a writers fuel is engagement. and this fic took too damn long to write. xoxoxo
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heeseungswifefr · 1 day
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stepbro!gojo satoru headcannons.
MDNI!!
reader is an "innocent" camgirl.
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stepbro!gojo who makes you try on skimpy clothes in front of him, because your so "innocent.."
stepbro!gojo who jacks off to your camshows,being your biggest tipper!
stepbro!gojo who takes you with him everywhere, making sure that your dolled up for him.
stepbro!gojo who thinks his lap is the best place for you to sit
stepbro!gojo who grounds up into your cunt, acting as if he's moving around...
stepbro!gojo who puts your hand on his crotch instead of the popcorn bowl, moaning lightly at the contact.
stepbro!gojo who offers to help you with your next show, saying that you'll get more tips..
never had you thought that you'd be here right now, getting your poor little cunt pounded by your big stepbrother.."aahn~! 'toruu!!! faster..!" little whines came out of your mouth while satoru rubbed fast circles on your clit, thrusting up into you in the pretty pink 'gaming' chair that you had. "fuuuck...y'really wan’ me to split your lil' pussy open,right doll?" he says,his grip on your thighs unwavering. " 'toruuu! m’cumming!!! fuckfuckfuckfuckfuuck!!" you let out a pornographic moan,creaming all around his cock, forming a white ring at the base. "y'wan me to pull out baby..? or should I fuck my cum into you?" you whimpered,nodding your head eagerly. his pubic hair kept hitting your clit, driving you into overstimulation. "s-shit..you must really like that huh you lil' slut..." he says,free hand groping your breasts and tweaking at your nipples. your jaw drops slack..a silent scream coming out of your mouth,as he got you creaming around his cock for a second time. "I'm gonna cum...I'm cumming..fuuckkk!!" Satoru whines as he empties his warm cum into your cunny. pulling out and admiring the mess he made of your little pussy. he manhandled your body, putting you on your back. "did you think we were done,doll?"
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hollandorks · 2 days
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haven
battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader
interlude three
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Summary: After the sudden deaths of her mother and grandmother, y/n is forced to return home to Gotham…and to the man who broke her heart three years ago. Back in Bruce Wayne’s inescapable orbit, she vows to get to the bottom of her former best friend’s new cold personality. But Bruce’s secrets aren’t what she’s expecting.
a/n: I'm alive!!! I don't want to talk about how long it's been since the last chapter because it's a little bit embarrassing. Anyways, I'm back! Hopefully! So here's a brief little Bruce POV to hold you over until the next real chapter, which should hopefully only be a week or two maybe? (Also, I apologize in advance....)
Series Masterlist
word count: 1.2k
Despite everyone who was trying hard to keep her alive, y/n felt utterly alone. 
Bruce's POV
“Bruce, my dear boy, I don’t tell you often enough, but you are…so stubbornly stupid it makes me feel twice my age.” 
Bruce startled and whirled around to face Alfred. The older man was leaning casually along the work station where Bruce’s video equipment was, his cane next to him, legs crossed at the ankles. 
Bruce opened his mouth and then closed it again. 
It was noon now, and he still hadn’t been to bed. He’d been out late staking out Maverick’s again, hoping to catch a lead on Frank Gallo or anyone that could lead him to the man, when Alfred’s call had come. Security breach. Elevator. The panic had almost killed him. Alfred’s next call came in when Bruce was almost home, telling him that everyone was safe. So he had changed direction and left to clean himself up to make an appearance as Bruce instead. 
And still the fear lingered. Someone had been in his home, feet away from y/n, and he had yet to find any proof of how they had done it. 
He wouldn’t–couldn’t–sleep until he was certain she was safe. 
“What did I do this time?” Bruce finally asked. He turned back to the security footage he was pouring over. It terrified him that they could have been so close to y/n. That he could have been too late. That he could have–
He shut the thought down as quickly as it came. No use dwelling on it now. 
“What haven’t you done? You imploded the most important relationship you have–repeatedly, if we’re being honest. You keep secrets from her but toe the line so recklessly it’s going to blow up in your face. You let your emotions get the best of you. And that’s just lately. Shall I go on?” Alfred recrossed his ankles in the other direction. 
Bruce grit his teeth but said nothing. He restarted the security footage from the beginning and paused it frame by frame. A loud clack echoed around the abandoned station each time he smashed the button to go to the next frame. 
“Let’s change tactics then. How long are you going to let her live in fear before you tell her that the Batman is watching over her from inside her home?” 
Bruce’s jaw ached with the force of his clenched teeth. Still, he said nothing. First y/n had yelled at him, now Alfred. He knew his behavior was…abysmal to say the least. But he had more important things to focus on than everyone’s emotions, his own included. 
He had to find Frank Gallo, and take down the rest of the family, once and for all. When that was done, when y/n was safe, he would think about all the ways he had ruined his relationship with her. 
“Are you listening to me, Bruce?” 
“I am trying,” Bruce said with a smack of his fist against the table, “to figure out who the fuck broke into my home and threatened y/n!” His voice echoed loudly around him, setting the bats to fluttering and chittering above them. He restarted the footage once again. 
Alfred made a noise in his throat. “She hasn’t slept at all.” 
Something oily slid down Bruce’s spine. “Neither have I.” It was a deflection and they both knew it. It killed Bruce to know y/n was so scared. But there wasn’t anything he could do about it–other than find those responsible and make them pay. She wouldn’t want his comfort, wouldn’t want him to hover, so he was doing the next best thing and trying to end it. 
Alfred sighed. “All I’m saying is–” 
“I know what you’re saying.” 
“Then why do I have to keep saying it?” 
Bruce went back to ignoring the older man. Let Alfred think what he wanted. Bruce had work to do. Nothing would get better until Frank Gallo and the rest of his family and cronies were gone for good. 
What gives you the right to act like this? she’d asked, all of her anger turned towards Bruce like a roaring inferno. What gave him the right? He had admitted it to her right before that–I give too much of a shit. 
She didn’t know he was still in love with her. That he always had been. 
He’d hurt her so badly she couldn’t see what was right in front of her face–who he was, how he felt, what it was doing to him. If she would just open her eyes, she would know. 
Instead, she had yelled at him. 
He deserved it. He knew he deserved it. But walking in and seeing her hold Officer Martinez’s hand…it made him crazy. He had acted like the worst type of bastard without even thinking. It was pure instinct, the urge to protect her even from a guy like Martinez rising so strongly within him that it was almost as if he had blacked out. Like someone else had taken over his body. 
She rarely ever got mad at him. It had only happened a few times throughout their many years together. It was a sight to behold, her rage, and he had been equal measures impressed and angry both. 
“I don’t have time for this,” Bruce said after long stretch of silence. His voice was raw with exhaustion and emotion. “Either help me figure this out or go back upstairs.” 
He felt rather than saw Alfred bristle. He waited to get berated yet again, but Alfred merely pulled up the footage on another screen and got to work. 
They spent a few minutes in silence, Bruce’s eyes burning from lack of sleep, his thoughts churning. She hasn’t slept. He ached to go upstairs, to tell y/n that she was safe with him, that he would never let anything happen to her. 
But it already had, and all of it had been his fault. 
He knew without a doubt, just as he had known three years ago, that she was safest far away from him. And look what had happened already–the more she’d become entangled with him, with the Batman, the worse things got. She had spent three years in Bludhaven, far away from him, perfectly safe. And the minute she had come home to Gotham, come home to him…it had all gone to shit. Really it had gone to shit before that–when her grandmother had left the tower for the last time. 
Bruce liked to think that was his fault, too, not that he’d ever it admit it out loud. 
“I’m not trying to make you feel guilty,” Alfred said into the silence. His voice was gentle, almost placating. 
“Mm.” It wasn’t working, then, Bruce thought. He already felt guilty enough. 
“I hate seeing you like this. Both of you.” Alfred sighed again. “I just think that talking about it–all of it–would help you both. It might ease the strain of…everything else going on.”
Bruce couldn’t see how it could help, only how it would make things worse. But he didn’t say that to Alfred, merely nodded and kept working. 
Two nights later, all Bruce could think about was that Alfred had been right. 
He should have told y/n the truth while he had the chance.
taglist:
@ktficworld @grunge-n-roses5 @anon-cat-posts @projectdreamwalker @warsaur @lachillona02 @crazyunsexycool @doetic @alexiris @that-girl-named-alex @harry-bowie-mercury @vaniasagitaa @widows-writings @missing-loki @exactlyelegantwizard @miriamnox @mavenmoon @eclipsedplanet @spencerrxids @giulia2372 @katara-is-a-goddess-changemymind @janezat @incorrectmarvelquotesss @spiritdetectivel @i-have-no-life-charlie @ilovemybabes @curseyouperrytheplatypus @lightsinmycity @yondiii @spideybv28 @fictionalmansl4t
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nerdierholler · 3 days
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IT'S DONE! I made a book! I never thought I'd ever be able to make a book. Sure mistakes were made but it was still a fun process and I learned so much from making this first one.
This a binding of The Wayhaven Chronicles IF but with my personal Detective's choices included and the resulting text smoothed out to read more like a novel.
Honestly, I thought something like this would be way beyond my skill set but it wasn't as scary as I thought once I got started. Definitely check out @renegadeguild for some book making and typesetting guides and their discord is super friendly and helpful as well.
If you want to learn from my mistakes I'll go into some trials and tribulations under the cut.
I'm not sure how well this book will hold up long term but that's ok! It was more about learning and I'll make some adjustments and try again with the same text probably.
Typsetting
Margins - need to make them bigger. I mostly read paperbacks so I was going for that format with narrower margins but then when I ran into paper problems, I didn't have a ton of room for trimming.
There was an option on the imposer to add dotted lines to the center fold and I clicked that but they're visible still even after binding. Could be that I needed to sew my signatures tighter and that would help but regardless I don't think I need them in the future so I'll be skipping that feature.
The font was intentionally small, along with the margins, because I was trying to minimize the number of signatures I was dealing with for a first project. I'll bump it up in the future.
Paper (so much wrong)
So the grain should run parallel to the spine but I couldn't find short grain paper. I read at some point that someone recommended using sketch books instead because that should be the right grain. It was not, at least not what I bought, so it still ended up going the wrong way.
The sketch note book I bought had perforated pages. It made them easy to get out but I didn't realize that the page widths were inconsistent until everything was printed out. The paper width varied by at least 1/8 of an inch. I wasn't planning on trimming my pages but my top was super uneven because of this so an attempt at trimming was made. It could have gone worse (there was no blood) but the trimming could have been a lot better too.
Should have just used printer paper. The results would have been the same.
Making Book Cloth
Used the Heat and Bond method with some spare fabric and it worked pretty well. The problem was when it came to adding backing. I'd read tissue paper or even plain paper so I grabbed some piecing paper that was close at hand. That was a mistake. It was good quality fabric so it was thicker already and the paper backing made it too thick. I could barely fold it over and it kept wanting to flip up. It's the spine fabric and I'm still concern it's going to do this in the future.
Used tissue paper for the marbled looking fabric and it was much easier to work with.
Book Board
Not measuring right was all on me. The rice box worked in a pinch but I think it will be prone to bending. Got me the experience I needed be wouldn't be my go-to material for a project of this size.
Glue
I used Elmer's All Purpose and it got the job done but, again, probably not going to hold up the best long term. However, I'm glad I didn't buy PVA and basically waste it on this project. Elmer's was good and cheap enough for practice. I'll be getting some PVA for future projects.
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mrkeatingsblazer · 3 days
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Rick should make a pjo universe short story book.
Like pair up random characters with a member of the Seven and have them go on stupid quests and just do teenage things.
My favourite one I’ve thought of is Will and Leo going on a road trip to Austin to see Naomi preform. Will was gonna take Nico but Leo caught whiff of the fact he had two tickets and basically begged to go (I headcanon Leo LOVES country music, Naomi Solaces no.1 stan fr). Leo ends up building a fucking truck and is like “ROADTRIP❗️” Will is just like “huh” because he was low-key either gonna get Nico to shadow travel them or cash in his son of Apollo privileges and get him to drive them via the sun chariot.
The whole thing would just be a country filled shitshow and it would be amazing. They’d find themselves in a dance hall, Leo would get flung around on a mechanical bull and Will starts line dancing (of course they found themselves in a thrift shop before this after somehow destroying their clothes and they would buy cowboy boots and hats). A funny little moment would happen of a girl hitting on Will and he’s like “I have a boyfriend!!” And Leo just appears after winning the bull riding record and jumps into a hug with Will and the girl is just like “Awh sorry I didn’t know! You two are such a cute couple” and walks away leaving them flabbergasted.
They’d obviously have to fight a few monsters and maybe an enemy of one of there fathers(I can’t think of one that hasn’t already been defeated, maybe Geryon?!?). Both of them would be running around losing their shit bc neither of them are big fighters but Leo goes into his belt and starts tinkering and he just yells to Will who’s trying to hold the enemy back “Apollo kids have a good shot right” and Will’s like “Yeah but I’m not the best a-“ and Leo just throws something at him and says “shoot this!!!” And will just looks down and he’s holding a fucking gun that has celestial bronze bullets and he just blindly shoots and defeats the monster on his first shot leading him to realise that he has brilliant aim with a gun.This would send him spiralling for a page bc what do you mean he has good aim?!? He’s been horrendous with a bow all these years and all he needed was a gun to activate that power?!?
They would end up at the concert and have a blast (Leo 100% starts crying, Naomi is his Beyoncé) but Naomi would finish a song and invite a special guess out and out comes fucking Apollo. They would sing a duet (islands in the stream or smth idfk) and Will is just shocked. I feel like he would get a little sad and Leo’s just like “bruh you good?” through his own tears and Will just opens up and is like “ they seem so happy together, I wish I grew up with both of them” and Leo just hugs him as they watch Apollo and Naomi sing their hearts out on stage.
Sorry the Will and Leo Texas solidarity/bromance gets to me fr.
But like seriously this would be such a great idea!! Imagine Frank and Clarisse or Piper and Nico going on a random adventure together. It would be so chaotic.
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brodieland · 16 hours
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Jason Grace as Percy when he forgot about everyone but Annabeth?
Jase only remembers reader, his best friend (who he is in love with but haven't confessed to each other yet) And everyone stays because they realize their connection And maybe at night they try to talk about it and he's being completely direct like "I think it's because I love you, like Percy doesn't love Annabeth" and reader is like ?????? "I love you too but that was abrupt" MVNZVKZJKSFKSA SORRY I LOVE HIM
.˚ 𓈒 ࣪.𝝑𝝔 Prophecy-Crossed Lovers!! ´ˎ˗
Jason Grace x Fem!Juno!Reader Synopsis: after Jasons disappearance, you just had to tell him how you felt the next time you saw him!! Tag(s): reader starts unclaimed, prophecy of EIGHT, cursing if it must be said I suppose Word Count: 3042 A/N: you absolutely ATE with this one holyyyy, also I really need to stop saying I suppose its actually a problem omg
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"C'mon Jase, its okay not to be so humble all the time," you joked.
"What," he chuckled. "All I'm saying is that when you like your job it isn't hard."
"You risk your life every time you step out of camp Jupiter, you can brag you know."
"Fine, maybe I am humble."
You and Jason were out around 9PM, walking around New Rome together just talking and laughing like normal. He was your best and you were his. You both had a massive crush on one another, but with his job taking on all his time, you wouldn't assume he had the time for crushes, so you kept your mouth shut. Then again on his defense, he just didn't think you liked him back.
"C'mere," you grabbed his wrist and dragged him toward the nearest bakery. "Let's get some cupcakes!"
"You just love to run though my wallet don't you?"
"Well, I mean, if your offering," you both laughed. Jason paid for the both of your cupcakes, you got strawberry and he got vanilla.
"Here," the cashier handed you both the baked goods. "I added on the couples discount for the two of you."
The cashier winked and walked off, leaving you and Jason hot in the face. You both looked at each other, quickly looked away, and walked off and sat outside together at a table together.
"Cashier was funny," he mumbled into his vanilla treat.
"Yeah," you mumbled back.
"We're best friends right?"
"Yeah, I'm always here for you, you know," you slid you hands across the table, and he held them in his. You both were very close with one another, and the line between friendship and romance was so blurred neither of you dared to speak up on it. Why possibly ruin what you have?
"We should head back, its getting late," he smiled.
"Yeah of course," you both stood up, not letting go of one another hands as he walked you back to your cabin. It always a goodnight when Terminus doesn't start a riot. "Well, goodnight Jason, see ya tomorrow."
"Of course, goodnight Y/N," he waved as you shut the door behind you. Walking through the doors of the fifth cohort, you walked over toward your bed trying to sleep. You tossed and turned till finally falling asleep an hour later.
You woke up in your bed, except you didn't really wake up. The air around you felt like static, and when you stood up, it felt weird to move. You were in a dream, a demigod dream.
You don't remember the last time you had one, so you were nervous. When you looked at your feet, there was a faint golden trail leading you somewhere. You followed it, then you realize you're walking towards Jason's cabin. When you walked in, all the beds contained a sleeping camper except for one. Jason's bed.
You were weirded out, you walked toward and saw the bed was empty and made. You walked toward the bathroom, to see no one was in there. Looking at the clock, it was 6AM, not even Jason wakes up this early.
'He's gone.'
You looked around, not seeing anyone who could've whispered that in your ear.
'He might even die before he comes back.'
You start freaking out, even hyperventilating, dreams intensify emotions and this was absolutely terrible.
'Will the memory of you alone be enough to bring him home, back to you, alive?'
You shot up in your bed, absolutely coated in sweat. Fellow campers were starting to crowd around you, looking at you with concern.
"Hey.. Y/N are you okay," one girl asked.
"Yeah, you were, like, groaning and you sounded like you were having a nightmare," another boy said.
"What time is it," you spat out.
"Like 9:50AM," someone said. You eyes shot open as you threw your blanket off and ran toward Jasons cabin. You slammed through the doors, and only saw some stragglers hanging behind, they were normally early risers here.
"Have any of you seen Jason," you asked frantically. There were confused murmurs of nos and nopes running through the room. Reyna walked out the bathroom in her normal attire as you rushed toward her. "Did you send Jason out?"
"No, I woke up later than normal, I thought he'd be out with you or something," she responded.
"No, he's not," you nodded.
"Is something wrong?"
"Yes."
She quickly led you toward her Preators office, beckoning you to sit in front of her. As you explain to her the dream, you can see in her eyes as her expression starts going sour.
The next few months were depressing to say the least. He was your best friend, and the guy you're in love with, so him being missing is like, well, you're missing. Right now you were sitting in your bed reading a book and a newcomer, Hazel Levesque, comes and sits by the end of your bed. You two became close, she knew what it was to lose someone close to you.
"Y/N," she said softly.
"What's up," you looked up at her.
"Can I asked you something," she asked, and you just nodded. "What was Jason like. He must've been pretty awesome, since you know, how longs its been, and... yeah."
She didn't want to cross the line and say more, but she didn't have to. Everyone knew of your feelings, except Jason. You started going on and on about Jason, all his amazing qualities. His loyalty and kindness that knew no bounds. You stopped before you started gushing about just how hot and good-looking he was, and then had just found yourself daydreaming about what he could be doing right now. Had he made new friends, found a girlfriend maybe?
﹒º. ౨ৎ
"Dude, I'm working as fast as I can," Leo complained.
"I know you are, sorry man," Jason apologized.
"Whats up with you bro?"
"We need to go back to my camp, what if she's still there? It sucks that she's all I can remember but can just barely remember what we were before leaving. It's just stressful."
"For a guy with amnesia, you use the word remember a lot," Leo joked and Jason just rolled his eyes. "But seriously dude. Spill. Whats she like, she's got to be amazing if you swerve all the, and may I add, really hot girls here for the literally memory of her."
He sighed and took a seat on a nearby work bench, while Leo continued working on the Argo II, "She was my best friend. Ever since I'd made it to camp Jupiter, she'd been by my side. She made me laugh, she helped me to get over my Preator troubles, she just was there for everything. And before you ask, she's beautiful."
Leo just listened to his whipped friend go on about about this mysterious girl. "You sound like Annabeth, but at least she's actually dating Percy."
"Are we talking about how whipped Jason is," Piper said as she announced her presence.
"You guys are so annoying sometimes," Jason laughed.
"Careful, if she's everything you hype her up to be, might just have to steal her away from you," Piper joked.
"You might have too, maybe then he'll finally get the, whats the word, ambition? To make a move," Leo added. Jason sighed, looking disappointed. Leo took the chance to walk up next to him and comfort his friend.
"I just wish I knew what she was to me, was she just a friend? Because I don't think people spend this much time thinking about someone whose just a friend."
Leo rubbed circles onto his friends back. "Must suck being anemic."
"Amnesiac."
"Whatever," Leo smiled, he leaned in pretending to plant a kiss on Jason's cheek, before he laughed and swatted him off. Leo went back to working on the Argo II, while Jason and Piper went off and did their own thing.
"Hey, you think you could send an Iris message to a Roman," Piper suggested.
"We'd never even heard of them over there, so probably not," he groaned. Piper felt bad, but thankfully by just about next week they would be flying out to camp Jupiter to pick up the rest of the eight.
﹒º. ౨ৎ
"He sounds amazing," Hazel smiled.
"Yeah, he is," you smiled back. Before could say anything else, another newcomer, Frank Zhang, came running in.
"Hey Hazel," he stumbled. He was adorable, and clearly had a thing for Hazel.
"Oh hey Frank," she waved. "Is it time for our guard duty?"
"Yeah."
"Bye Y/N," she waved. You waved back as you watched them walk off together. 'adorbs.'
You decided it was time to get out of bed and go for a jog. Something you did before with Jason before he left. After about half an hour, you were walking towards the mess hall for some food. Except you were quickly stopped when you saw a bunch of people running off somewhere together, so of course you followed.
They all ran toward the camp entrance, and what you saw was insane. He was making typhoons like it was nothing, was he a god? Frank and Hazel stood back in disbelief as they watched this rugged looking guy take down two gorgons like it was nothing. He was so powerful, and had been out in the world. Maybe he knew something about Jason?
After the whole incident unfolded, you noticed an old lady standing off to the side. She thanked - Percy, his name was Percy - for bringing her to safety, then she started... glowing?
Gasps were flying around as people started kneeling, but you couldn't tell why. "Why aren't you kneeling like everyone else?"
Instead of an old woman, she looked somewhat younger, taller, and more regal looking. "Who.. are you?"
People started murmuring around you, "My my, I'm Juno," you inhaled sharply. "Unclaimed I see. Don't worry my darling, soon enough you'll play your part."
Then, she disappeared. People were struggling to look between you and Percy, not knowing what was more shocking anymore. Reyna quickly whisked the both of you, with Hazel and Frank, to her office. She sat down, you zoned out as she asked your two cabin mates what happened, then interrogated Percy.
"Y/N, what Juno said.. have you had anymore of those dreams," you shook your head, disappointed you couldn't help more. She understood and let yourself be excused. (You pressed up against the door and listened to Reyna quickly offer Preatorship to Percy, and him claim to have a girlfriend and turn her down. Wow.)
Percy walked out the door and you quickly stopped him, wanting to have a word. "Percy?"
"Y/N?"
"I need to know, while you were out there what was happening, and did you ever meet a guy named Jason, or at least heard of him? Please, I really need to know."
"Sorry, no. All I remember is my Annabeth, and that I really need to make it back to her... Is Jason like, your boyfriend or something," he asked. You looked down at your feet, softly shaking your head again. Percy put his hand on our shoulder before speaking up again. "I'll help find him, alright?"
"Alright," you smiled.
Quicker than you thought, though you weren't surprise at this point, Mars made an appearance and for some reason Percy seemed to know him and wanted to rock his shit??? Whatever. Not the point. He got sent off on a quest with Hazel and Frank. Now you were alone again, but whatever. Not like they'd be gone long, you supposed.
As quick as they left, they were now back to camp. Safe and sound might be a strong way to put it, but they were back. You took the three of them to your favorite bakery in new Rome for some brownies. Coincidently, this was the last place you went with Jason, but that wasn't the point, or maybe it was, shut up.
You were looking down into your brownie with a neutral expression when Percy suddenly pulled you out your gaze. He was pointing into the sky, and there it was. Percy told you his Greek friends would be on their way, but you hadn't realized that they spared no expense it seemed. The four of you went running, and the closer you got, the more you noticed it. Or him.
There he was, standing in his Preator's uniform on the front of the ship, you almost broke down right there, but you stayed strong. There were four people on the ship and they all dropped down from a ladder, except one. You saw him from afar waving his friends off as he walked back inside.
You stood there starstruck, and when you turned to Percy, you both had the same look on your faces. It was like time froze, and you two went running. Percy landing into who you assumed was Annabeth, and you in Jason's arms. Jason hugged you tight enough to swing you around while you snuggled into his neck. "I missed you Jase," you whispered into his neck.
"I miss you too," he said as he pulled away. You both turned when you heard a thud, Percy was getting judo flipped. LOL! "Anddd she missed him, too."
You laughed and walked toward them. All the romans around were weary when Reyna left to speak with Annabeth while you and Jason left to speak alone. "So... where've you been?"
"It's a really, reallyyy long story. But first things first, we need the rest of the four."
"Percy, Hazel and Frank," you spat out with no hesitation.
"Your not gonna offer to come?"
"What help could I really offer? I'm not even claimed," you shrugged.
"Y/N..."
"What? I mean... it sucks but it's true," you sighed.
"I want you to come with us."
"You think I don't want to? That's all I want, I don't want to see you leave again without me. You don't understand what it was like staying here without you for all those months Jase," you didn't want to sound whiny, gods only know what he's been through, but still.
"You're coming with us because-" BOOM! Both of you whipped your heads around and saw the ship everyone flew here on was firing shots. Without a second thought you both went running and saw the Romans trying to fight off the Greeks. You tried helping Jason to stop the fight, when suddenly you saw something flying towards his head.
"JASON," you yelled as you ran your way towards him. You saw him on the floor passed out and ran by his side. You watched as a native girl helped to hold off the Romans while you sat by his side. You saw more people approaching from behind and grabbed the dagger you always keep by your side and started fending more people off.
One person, one person who completely ticks you off was making his way, and it was Octavian. "Why're you defending these traitors??"
"They're not traitors," you started. "They're gonna be the ones to save the world. And don't you ever talk on Jason that way again."
You slammed your dagger back into Octavians chest and slammed him into the ground, then you noticed a glow from above you. You looked in a haze and saw some rings and flowers above you. You'd never seen this before, nor did you know it was even possible.
You had just been claimed by Juno. And were now sure that Jason was right.
You turned and saw Jason starting to sit up, "Frank," you yelled. "Grab Jason and we have to go!"
You had recently learned about Frank's new ability and did it come in handy. The eight of you rushed onto the ship and said bon voyage as fast as possible!! The first moments of landing were rough, between Percy grilling some latino on what happened on the ship, and you helped Jason onto his feet while he directed you towards his room to lay down. "Some preator I am, huh?"
"Lookin very snazzy in your uniform Jase," you chuckled as you took a seat in front of him. "Did you see, I got claimed."
"I can't believe I missed it," he groaned. "By who?"
"Juno."
"Hm. Juno and Jupiter," he chuckled.
"What were you gonna say? Like earlier, before the explosion happened?"
Jason paused, all the confidence he had slowly draining away, but he pushed through anyways. "That I didn't want to be separated again. That I think I'm in love with you."
Your jaw slightly dropped and your eyes widened. "That was abrupt." Not at all what you meant to say.
"Abrupt? That's.. it?"
"Well I mean, I know I love you, so you thinking you love me too is nice to hear, but still, you really just spat that out didn't you," you laughed, causing him to laugh, too.
"But I really do, and I wanna say it before I accidentally go missing again," he joked.
"Hey, chill with that."
"Too soon?"
"Quite," you smiled. You looked into his icy blue eyes, then down to the scar on his lip and the way it moved when you smiled. Without thinking you just went for it and kissed him. You had the sides of his head in your hands as Jason pulled you closer by the waist. You took the chance to move your legs around his waist. His grip on your body tightened as you slid your tongue along his.
﹒º. ౨ৎ
"You think he finally said something," Leo said while he was chowing down on some ice cream.
"I hope so," Piper made eye contact with Leo. "Wanna find out?"
"100%," the two walked to Jason's room. Leo held onto the doorknob and silently counted to three before throwing the door open. "Hey guys!!"
Leo and Piper were starting to regret walking in without knocking. You both sat there embarrassed with your frizzled hair and no shirts, awkward!! Jason just groaned and threw a pillow at the duo standing at the door as they laughed and shut the door behind them. "This might be our sign to start knocking."
"Just might be.."
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Transit
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Summary: John “Soap” MacTavish & Simon “Ghost” Riley wait for a military convoy. Ghost finds out Soap knows a song that isn’t “Anarchy in the UK” by the Sex Pistols.
The only thing cutting through the silence of the pre-dawn darkness was the lieutenant opening and closing his mouth, clacking his bloody tongue piercing against his teeth — mindless and heedless of the phantom pain shooting through Soap’s mouth every time it happened. The wet sounds of lips parting, smacking, tongue licking and detaching from soft, spit-slicked gums were driving Soap up the walls.
“Gum?” There lieutenant’s voice cut through Soap’s unease.
“Gum- what?”
“Did ye want any?” Ghost asked, producing a sliver-wrapped strip from somewhere. Mysterious pocket candy, as likely to be fresh as it might have been plucked from a dead Russian operative seven months ago, and Ghost had simply forgotten to empty his pockets before laundry. Juicy Fruit mixed with old pocket sweat stains and Persil detergent didn’t seem like a flavour to chase the miserably watered down and microwaved coffee sachet he’d called his breakfast because mess didn’t open until five. Two full hours before they were scheduled to leave. Soap sighed and turned his face towards the window. They were supposed to be out on the road already, but the fucking convoy of course ran late — and now all they could do was stare at the silent radio and wait. He hated these hours wasted in limbo.
Ghost seemed oddly calm, for once. Aside from the whole mouth-smacking of course. Soap wondered why he hadn’t noticed it before. Perhaps the situation had him more on edge than usual.
“Bother ye if I start the motor?” Soap asked. The windows were fogging up and the used air was making him sleepier than it should, although given the three thirty wakeup call he decided to cut himself some slack. Still, being this tired without the convoy having reached base yet, let alone getting a move on, it didn’t seem like his best idea.
“Keep the lights down. Lieutenant Morrison gets weird about his boys and they’re facing us.” The lieutenant wiggled his leg. “Tell me about your basic,” Ghost finally asked.
“Wot? Story time because ye’s types didn’t have a good sergeant in basic?” Soap snorted. Ghost did that thing he liked to do where he could be staring at Soap, at Soap’s bones and nerves and delicate blood vessels, or something not-Soap which just so happened to occupy the same space as Soap. The eery glare didn’t really do it for Soap so he turned the key in the ignition and took a second to appreciate the warm red and orange lights popping up before he twisted the key one notch further and the old jeep coughed back to life. The machine was loud in the pre-dawn silence, cutting through the dreams and exhausted half-comas that their comrades surely still tried to escape in.
“Used to ah. We used to sing a lot. Had an Irish boy in our group, he knew all these songs from his ma’s pub.”
“Sing like a bird, the lot of you?”
“Ever heard a shoebill, Lt?” Soap asked.
“On YouTube,” his lieutenant admitted easily. Soap sniggered to himself.
“Surprised ye know what that is, sir.”
“Had to take basic somewhere, didn’t I?” Ghost asked mildly. The weirdly wet mouth-noises stopped, and instead he started popping one of the buttons on his thigh pocket.
“Yer right mad if ye think for a second I believe that Sir, all due respect.”
Ghost only hummed to Soap’s indignant reply. “Sing us a song then, Soap.”
“Ever heard a Kiwi?”
“Had one run up to me in the middle of a night training with Aussie SAS,” Ghost replied with what sounded like a grimace. “The poor sods that were sent to populate that continent really had to think they were being sent to hell.”
“They didn’t know how America would turn out,” Soap replied absently, trying not to focus too hard on the repetitive metallic plop of Ghost opening and closing the buttons on his trouser pockets.
“A right comedian before sunrise.” At least Ghost seemed amused by his disgruntled, short replies.
“Aye, Dante had shit on me,” Soap agreed easily and wondered for the umpteenth time why Ghost would be so fucking awake at this ungodly hour. He wasn’t used to superiors sitting awake while they waited for a convoy, wasn’t used to conversation beyond talking shit at the CO passed out snoring in the passenger seat.
“Not quite, Soap,” Ghost said with what sounded like a smile. “Promised me a song, sergeant.”
“Nae danger did I promise ye anything,” Soap tried.
“Don’t get cute with me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, sir.”
“Go’an then.”
Soap sighed and rolled his eyes for good measure before adjusting the fan to heat the windows.
“There are men of over ninety that have never yet kissed a girl,” he started and then stopped himself to clear his throat. “But give me a ramblin’ rover frae Orkney down to Dover. We will roam the country over and together we’ll face the world.
“If you’re bent with arthritis, your bowels have colitis, you’ve gallopin’ bollockitis, and you’re thinkin’ it’s time you died,
“If you’ve been a man of action, though you’re lying there in traction, you may gain some satisfaction thinking ‘Jesus, at least I tried’.
“Oh there’s sober men and plenty, and drunkards barely twenty, there are men of over ninety that have never yet kissed a girl.”
“Missed your true callsign, didn’t you?” Ghost asked quietly, as if he regretted breaking the silence after Soap’s voice cracked on the last line. “Sing like a lark for me, Soap.”
“Not a happy song, Lt.” Soap exhaled through his nose, and tried not to think too hard about the way his voice had cracked. On how many notes he had missed. Why he had chosen that particular part of the song to sing.
“Doesn’t change that you sing it nicely, sergeant. Sound like a choir boy.” Soap bit his lip, uncomfortable with how easily Ghost had spoken about Soap’s childhood, regardless of if it stemmed from Soap’s personnel file — which Ghost has full access to, it would just be weird — or if it had come from conjecture — also weird to think of himself as so easily fitting into patterns, Soap thought.
“Think that’s the convoy up ahead, on the service road?” Soap noticed movement to his left, half hidden behind his lieutenant’s bulky form. Desperately wished for the moving string of lights to be his reprieve from Ghosts eery perception. Ghost turned in his seat, twisting his entire spine. Soap thought to himself that he’d have been both more and less surprised at the same time if his lieutenant had just swivelled his head like an owl.
“You good to drive, sergeant?” Ghost asked.
“Tell you when it changes, Lt,” Soap promised and watched Ghost’s satisfied little nod.
“Then hit the road,” he ordered lightly and started fiddling with that stupid pocket again.
“Yes, Sir.” Soap smiled to himself while he turned on the lights and pulled out of the parking space to slip between the guard vehicles of the MP.
We will roam the country over and together we’ll face the world.
He hummed to himself, quietly of course as to not disturb the night any further. If Ghost joined him, Soap pretended not to pay any attention to it and weaselled the soft sound away to keep safe in his breast pocket.
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hwangyeddeongie · 2 days
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hiii can i req a yeji fluff where she picks you up at the bar since you drank with your friends then you didn't recognize her, thinking she's a random girl flirting with you trying to take you home so you refuse telling her you have a girlfriend and how your girlfriend will kick her ass and such. and yeji and your friends are very amused and she's coaxing you reassuring you and everything until you recognize her, and you tell her how a girl flirted with you and such and she's just going with your flow finding you cute when drunk hwhwhw thank uuu
tbh I’ve had this thought before and now I have an excuse to write it cuz this is so frickin cute!! enjoy!
yeji x drunk!fem!reader
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You don’t usually get drunk. You don’t drink very often, and you know your limits. However, you make exceptions on certain occasions, this one being your best friend’s birthday.
She had arranged an open bar at a club, and you and your closest friends were all invited. Yeji, knowing you were in good company, bid you off and told you to have a good time.
The moment you arrive at the club, a drink is immediately shoved into your hands. Not wanting to be rude, you drink it and go over to the dance floor with your friends. You sway to the time of the booming music and sing along to the songs you knew.
After some time, you get the uncomfortable feeling of being watched. You turn around and see a man looking at you from the bar. You shake it off and ignore it, thinking it’s nothing, until, a few moments later, he taps you on the shoulder.
You face him, immediately repulsed by the smouldering face he’s trying to pull off.
“Hey,” he says, leaning uncomfortably close to your ear. “You look beautiful tonight. What’s your name?”
You make a face and back up.
“I’m taken, sorry.”
That doesn’t deter him, however, and he soldiers on, making a show of looking around the club.
“I don’t see your man anywhere.”
You raise a brow, unimpressed.
“That’s because I have a girlfriend. Anything else?”
He at least has the decency to look embarrassed, and he leaves you alone after that.
A few songs (and drinks) later, you stumble off the dance floor, needing some fresh air. You ask the bartender for some water, and as he passes a glass to you, someone slides in beside you at the bar.
It’s a woman, dressed in a short (too short, you think, a little distastefully) black mini dress.
“Hi,” she greets you with a charming smile, and you nod awkwardly. “You’re stunning. Can I buy you a drink?”
“Thank you,” you say, wanting nothing else but to exit the conversation. “But I have a girlfriend.”
The woman shrugs, and leans closer. What was it with these people and their lack of respect for personal space?
“That’s alright. It’s just a drink.” She cocks her head. “She doesn’t have to know.”
You frown at her implication and stand up, taking your glass of water with you.
“No thanks. I’m not drinking anyway.”
You walk away, deflating as soon as you slide into the booth your friend is sitting in.
“Woah,” she says, laughing. “You don’t look too good. What’s up?”
“Why does everyone keep trying to hit on me?” You whine, making her laugh harder.
“You’re complaining about people trying to pick you up? You should be flattered, if anything.”
“I don’t like it if it’s not Yeji.” You grumble, burying your face in your hands, and your friend chuckles.
“You guys are so cute.” She snaps her fingers, as if in a eureka moment. “I know what will make you feel better.” She grins, and you get a bit nervous. “Shots!”
Your friend orders a round of shots, and calls everyone from your group to join.
You play rock paper scissors, and whoever loses has to take a shot. You’re terrifyingly awful at rock paper scissors, and, to no one’s surprise, you keep on losing.
You’re on your fourth shot when you begin to slur your words and struggle to sit up straight. Your friend calls for an end to the game and asks you if you’re okay.
“I miss Yeji,” you pout, your eyes watering as you thought of your girlfriend, probably alone at home. “I miss herrrr,”
“Okay, you’ve definitely had too much to drink.” Your friend plucks the shot glass from your hand and dials Yeji on her phone.
She’s at home, getting ready to go to bed, as she knows you’ll probably be back late. So she’s surprised to see your friend’s caller id light up her phone, and she picks up at once, worried something might have happened to you.
“Hello? Is everything okay? Is Y/N okay?” She asks, already pulling on her coat and shoes.
“Yeah, yeah, she’s fine,” your friend reassures her. “She’s just very drunk, and I think she wants you to come get her.”
“I’m on my way,” Yeji says, halfway out the door.
She starts up her car and drives to the address of the club you had sent her. Luckily, it’s not too far from your place, so she gets there really quickly.
Your friend had passed her an invitation, which she shows to the bouncer, who lets her in, though a little confused at her attire, a simple hoodie and sweatpants, topped off with a cap.
She speed walks through the crowd, sidestepping people as she makes her way to you. When she finally sees you, she breathes out a sigh of relief, and approaches you with a smile.
“Hey, baby!” She chirps as soon as she’s in earshot. “You ready to go home—”
“Don’t call me baby!” You interrupt her without even looking at her, holding up a finger. She stops, surprised. Were you mad at her? For what?“I’m not yourrrr baby. I,” you point at yourself, swaying a little in your seat, “have a girlfriend. So I am not going home with you, understand?”
Yeji gapes, her mouth opening and closing several times.
“But, babe, I have the car outside—”
“Stop insisting!” You cross your arms with a huff. “My girlfriend is beautiful, and kind, and selfless, and she’s the best person in my life. She’s strong too, and she’ll kick your ass if she sees you taking to me this way. And I love her a lot, so don’t even try to win me over, because it’s not going to work.”
Yeji’s face splits into a wide smile, and she shakes her head fondly before tucking a finger under your chin and making you look at her.
You go from confused to elated in a split second.
“Yeji!” You throw your arms over her shoulders and pull her into a tight embrace. “When did you get here?”
“I just got here. I was trying to—”
“Well thank god you’re here. There was this girl that was flirting with me and trying to take me home, can you believe that?”
Yeji swallows down a laugh and bites back her smile.
“Really? It’s good I got here on time then. Can’t have anyone that isn’t me taking my girl home, can I?”
You interlace your hands and try to stand up, but stumble a bit. Luckily, Yeji catches you and holds you up. You both say goodbye and wish a happy birthday to your friend and she leads you out of the club, a strong arm around your waist.
She helps you into the car and buckles you in, and you unexpectedly kiss her as she’s leaning over you, checking your seatbelt.
She smiles and pecks your lips a couple more times, and you trace her jawline with your finger. She truly is beautiful. The perfect balance of her handsome and pretty features makes your heart skip a beat.
“You okay?” She asks you, and you realise you’ve been staring into space. You nod and stretch in your seat, your tiredness catching up to you.
You yawn and grab her free hand as she pulls out of the driveway of the club and starts on the road home.
“A lot of people tried to flirt with me tonight, Yeddeong.” Well, perhaps ‘a lot’ is an exaggeration, but you’re drunk and sleepy.
Yeji’s hand tightens momentarily on the wheel.
“Yeah?” You nod and tuck a loose piece of hair behind her ear.
“But nobody was as pretty as you.”
She blushes, and relaxes her grip on the wheel. She doesn’t say anything, but you smile at the knowledge that you flustered her.
“I love you, Yeji.”
She looks at you, her eyes crinkling as she smiles.
“I love you too, baby.”
When you get home, she helps you out of your uncomfortable clothes and into some pyjamas, and wipes off your makeup too. She tucks you into bed and curls up beside you, her arms wrapping around your waist as she kisses your shoulder. You start snoring the moment your head hits the pillow.
She definitely teases you about it in the morning, how you were so drunk you couldn’t recognise her, and you flush red with embarrassment, on top of the pounding headache you have.
She doesn’t torture you about it though, and presses a warm kiss to your temple as she slides a bowl of haejangguk across the table for your hangover.
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about-faces · 12 hours
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I'm still loving Gotham Nocturne and I wish it was getting the love/respect/attention is deserves. I've spoken several people who haven't been reading the current Detective Comics run because they're Batmanned Out (good lord, do I get it) and they see it as just another attempt at some kind of "ultimate Batman story with Batman fighting the ultimate evil," which I strongly disagree with.
THAT SAID... as time has gone on, and the story seems to be reaching its finale, there are a few things that stand out of me as problems with this epic storyline.
1.) It's one of the most egregious examples of "writing for the trade paperback." This simply isn't a story that's meant to be read month-to-month. It's too slow, with too little "happening," at least on the superficial level. Paradoxically, it's NOT a story that should be binged! The best comparison that comes to mind is Better Call Saul, since that's the only other example of serialized media that's meticulously slow-paced yet INCREDIBLY RICH for those willing to engage with it on its level rather than expecting it to be Breaking Bad (or in Nocturne's case, a typical Batman story.) Ram V is capable of writing super-engaging monthly issues, as the fantastic Rare Flavours proves, but that brings us to...
2.) The story is sprawling. Maybe even TOO sprawling. When it comes to people who are sick of Batman, I try to sell them on the fact that this story is about GOTHAM AS A WHOLE, right down to the villains who call it home, and how everyone there is as intrinsically a part of Gotham as Batman is. But ensemble stories like that are tricky, and it makes the focus feel all over the place at times, with alternately too much and too little attention being paid to the main players, Batman included. It's a balance that was handled beautifully with Batman: The Audio Adventures, but it seems a bit more awkward here. Again, it's hard to pull off!
Like, we have characters pop up and then vanishing without explanation. We got Azrael back in the AzBats armor for the first time in decades, like, holy shit! That should be a HUGE development! And then, poof, he vanished! There's simply no time to explore Jean-Paul's character because there's so many other things the narrative needs to explore.
This feels like it would have really benefited from a companion series, something to focus on the characters the way the backup stories have done, but just more so. I think about how Peter Tomasi would write companion books to the main big storylines written by Geoff Johns, Grant Morrison, and Scott Snyder, and how he'd focus on character, which always enriched the greater "big important storyline." Which, in turn, also brings me to...
3.) The backup stories have really lost a lot of their punch since they stopped being written by Si Spurrier and were taken over by Dan Watters. Watters is incredibly capable, make no mistake, and his Cheshire/Lian Harper story is one of my favorite parts of this entire saga. But by and large, his tales focus more on the spooky and weird sides of what's happening with Nocturne, whereas Spurrier's stories were more focused on characters navigating the weirdness of the events. As a result, Spurrier gave us what I consider to be some of the very best stories about Jim Gordon, Harvey Dent, and Victor Fries ever written. I really miss those, and how they enriched Ram V's (possibly overly-ambitious) narrative.
Ultimately, Gotham Nocturne feels like the Batman equivalent to an arthouse film, which means it's going to be appreciated by a handful of nerds while leaving most other fans cold, and I can't really blame them. If anything makes me sad about all this, it's how all this incredible character work with Bruce, Harvey, Victor, Talia, and others is going to be ignored. Hell, it already is, given the complete lack of acknowledgement we've seen in other Bat-books for what's going on in Nocturne.
At this point, I just hope it sticks the landing in the finale, because I want to be able to have a complete, satisfying epic to recommend to people who want something a bit richer than the typical "guy in Bat costume punches clown" stories we usually get.
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orange-orchard-system · 24 hours
Text
Sometimes it's like. You look at someone and you wonder how they go about their days with a reliable memory. What that's like. What it feels like to just know things, to be able to give examples of your life, to be able to answer a question of a happy memory you have without racking your brain for scraps. You plug it into the search box but all you can think about when you see the results is what it must be like to remember that you forgot.
And sometimes it's like. You wonder how anyone functions without that warm feeling in the back of your head of your others, always there for you. Happy and hopeful and picking each other up when one of you falls – maybe a little frayed at the edges, maybe with some wounds that need healing, but sticking together all the same. It's warm like a campfire and warm like excitement, warm like how clouds look to be, even though you know they're cold and wet. You can turn back to them and get a thousand whispered promises of support before you even ask.
And sometimes it's like. You see people laughing at a joke in which you are the butt, the punchline, the freak. And you wonder how they can hate you, how they can show it so casually, what gave them the courage, what prevented their shame. But you never wonder why, because you already know – that's what the joke's about.
And sometimes you know you're not going to remember something even as you're standing in the middle of it. Maybe you try to enjoy the moment – but does it really matter when you're not really experiencing it in the first place?
And sometimes you wonder where you are. And sometimes you wonder who you are.
And sometimes it's like. You're staring at the person who just said they know you, and you have no idea if they're telling the truth, and you have no idea if you can trust them. You don't remember them, but maybe they remember you? Or maybe it's a lie – maybe it's a trick, like how the bullies from childhood would pretend to care. Like how your parents would pretend to care. So you turn them down and admit you don't recognize them, because disappointing someone genuine is safer than risking a knife to the chest – after all, you don't even know if it'll be figurative or literal.
And sometimes it's like. Did your food go bad because you forgot about it? Or is it still good, and you just don't like it right now? Will you like it again later? Did you make the wrong decision in cooking this tonight and not saving it for later? Or did they just change the production of the ingredients? Can you stomach your dinner when you hate it? When it tastes so bad, but used to taste so good?
And sometimes it's like. A melody of a conversation, played with no one else and your mind as the instrument. Hums and bells and chirps and whistles; an orchestra could never outperform what you hear from your own head. It is beautiful and wonderful and you wish everyone could get to experience this, but then you remind yourself that not everyone would enjoy such a thing. And then you wonder why.
And sometimes people write those with voices in their head as murderers. And you watch an ad for an upcoming horror movie with apathy; you can't even be disappointed anymore. You've been upgraded from joke to villain.
And sometimes it's joy passed around from one self to another, gaining momentum, swinging and singing and flying until you can't help but beam and you bite your tongue to keep from laughing because one of your selves just told the best joke you've ever heard.
And sometimes you cry, and they are the only ones there to comfort you.
And sometimes you lash out at them. And sometimes they forgive you. And sometimes that forgiveness only makes you bitter, because it's so foreign. It's the person claiming to know you all over again – why should I trust you? Especially when we make each other into jokes and villains in the eyes of everyone else?
And sometimes it's like. I have no choice but to trust you, to be vulnerable with you, and somehow that makes it easier.
And sometimes your others argue over which bowl to use for your cereal, only for all of you to forget the spoon.
And you wonder what it would be like to remember.
And you wonder what it would be like to decide so easily.
And you wonder what it would be like to hate someone like you – until you remember that you know the answer to that one, because you know what's it's like to hate yourself.
And sometimes your others help you write something that isn't quite poetry but isn't quite not, and you've been trying to write something like this for a while but struggled to find the words, and you're up way too late and should honestly just go to bed but first you have to write this down, and your week has been shitty and you're not out of the woods yet, but at least you have their warmth as you trudge through the dark – something small (but not insignificant) to keep you going, being pulled along by hope that isn't yours and a duty to the ones who have been there for you when no one else was.
And sometimes it's like. Can you guys just choose a spoon already?
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