#[leans in close] She Put Ketchup In It And Said It Was The Same Thing As The Sauce .‿.

[keeps-ache]

which of these are better? :>

[aidtale-of]

Aidtale: Origins-Chapter 3

The same morning begins down in the Underground. Papyrus knocks on Sans’s door, calling to him.

“Sans? Sans, are you awake?”

No answer. Papyrus knocks until he’s sure Sans has woken.

“Sans!”

“What?” Sans grumbles, rolling over in bed, glancing at his clock and noting that it’s only 6 am.

“Sans, you have to get ready right now.”

“Why? It’s barely morning.”

“Because we have to be the first ones there. I heard from tv that some humans are nocturnal, so one probably fell at night. Plus, I’ve got some new puzzles I want to try out!”

Sans sits up in bed. “Alright, I’ll be out in a few.”

“Great!”

Footsteps recede from Sans’s door, followed by a door closing. Sans goes to head downstairs. He holds his foot out over the first stair, then teleports into the kitchen. He opens the fridge and pulls out a bottle of ketchup from his side, ignoring the sense of deja vu. He goes to sit on his couch, taking a moment to feed his pet rock. Still tired, Sans settles further into the couch. Papyrus comes out of his room to see Sans already napping on the couch. He stands over him in a huff.

“Sans! You lazybones! Are you sleeping again?”

“Nah, just resting my eyes.”

Papyrus picks up Sans and places him on his feet. “Nice try, but I’m not falling for that one again. Have you eaten?”

“Yep.”

“Great! Let’s go!”

They leave their home. As Sans goes to lock the door, Papyrus pats his non-existent pockets.

“Oops! I forgot something!” Papyrus runs back into the house, leaving Sans outside to wait. He comes back out with a box of bones. “Ok, now we can go.”

They walk through Snowdin, saying hi to everyone as they go. They walk all the way through Snowdin forest to Sans’s station.

“Alrighty Sans, don’t forget to recalibrate your puzzles. We don’t need anything failing if the human arrives.”

“I’ll get right to it.”

Papyrus, satisfied, walks away with his box of bones. Once he’s far enough away, Sans sits at his post, pulling a hot dog from underneath. As he eats, he gets a notification on his phone. He looks, and sees that it’s a text from Alphys.

“Hey Sans, I need you to look at this.”

She then sends a photo accompanied by some text.

“I was checking on some things regarding our research, and all of this just appeared out of nowhere.”

The picture is one of her computer screen. There are diverting lines going all over the place.

“u already sent me this” Sans texts back.

“W-what? What are you talking about? This is the first time I’ve seen this. There’s no way that i’ve sent this before. Though, now that you mention it, it does seem familiar.”

“ah, its probably just deja vu or smth. why do they stop like that though?”

“Uh, well, my theory is that there’s something powerful enough to simply stop time and restart everything.”

“kinda like flowey was doing?”

“. . . .Yes? But this looks wayyy different.” She sends a video accompanied by text. “Watch.”

The video shows Alphys scrolling through the timelines. Sans watches as the timelines start to lose variation, turning from varying lengths to the same, consistent, cut-off line, then disappearing entirely, leaving a number where a timeline should’ve gone. The count stops at 570, with the 570th one showing as in progress. 

Huh, that’s weird. Sans rewatches the video in curiosity.

“where are the other ones?”

“Idk. Like I said, i’ve never seen this before.”

“hmm. maybe you accidentally deleted it”

“Maybe… I’ll check. What are you up to rn?”

“working”

“:( ok good luck.”

Sans puts his phone away and leans back in his chair. He closes his eyes to sleep, then dodges a pellet thrown at him from Flowey. He opens an eye.

“Y’know, if you wanna kill me, you gotta try harder than that.”

“I wasn’t trying to kill you, just seeing if you were awake.”

“Why? Are you looking for Papyrus? Cause, uh, he isn’t here.”

“I don’t need him. I was looking for you because…” He grumbles.

“..why? Because it looks like you’re about to say something you might regret.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Depends.”

“...I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I need your help.”

Sans is taken aback. “Uh..is this some kind of joke? Cause it ain’t particularly funny.”

“Trust me, you were the last person I’d ever even want to talk to,” he sighs, “But, unfortunately, you’re the one with both the knowledge and strength I need.”

“What for?”

…

“In about an hour or so, a human’s going to fall into the Underground-”

“Cool, thanks for the heads up.”

“No! Not cool! They’re going to kill everyone. And I mean everyone! And the only way we can stop them is if someone takes their soul for good.”

“Uh-huh. Yeah. Sure.” Sans pulls his hood over his head. Flowey looks at him, displeased.

“You don’t believe me?”

“Well, I could, but even if I did,” he peeks from under his hood, “why would I help you?”

“You don’t want to see everyone die, do you? This does include you and Papyrus, y’know.”

“..Funny. I coulda sworn that that’s happened before. Though, that wasn’t because of a human, now was it?”

Flowey’s face scrunches, seething. “I thought your job was to help people.”

“My job is to watch for humans, not help weeds I don’t trust.”

…

“Fine. Don’t believe me.” Flowey scorns, his voice full of venom. “But when everyone you know and love starts to die and you wonder what you could’ve done, I hope you think about this moment and cry.” Flowey burrows into the snow, disappearing from view. Sans scoffs and pulls his hood further down. “By the way,” Flowey calls out from farther away, “at the very least, go see Papyrus before packing your things.” Flowey leaves again. Sans is left alone, so he goes to sleep.

Sans wakes up later to the sound of the door to the ruins closing. He takes a look, but can’t make out the person that just walked out, so he teleports closer. Taking a closer look, he sees it’s a human, just like Flowey said. Sans gives the same introduction and they go through the same old routine, telling the human to keep pretending to be one, then teleporting away. The day goes about as well as one could expect with trying to get a murderous child to participate in puzzles and japes. Soon, Sans finds himself in Snowdin Town, once again helping the monsters evacuate. He goes to his home and is about to pack his and Papyrus’s things, but pauses for a moment, thinking about what Flowey said earlier. Sans backs slowly from the front door and instead heads for where Papyrus was going to fight the human. Fog clouds the area. Sans can barely make out the shape of something disintegrating into the snow. He walks closer, the fog disappearing. The human walks away into Waterfall, stepping in Papyrus’s dust as they go. Sans’s mind runs a million miles a minute. How could this happen so quickly? How strong is this kid? This thing?...Why does this feel so familiar?

His phone starts to ring. Sans stares at his pocket for a moment, letting the phone ring, before he picks it up. Alphys is on the other end, yelling.

“Sans? Sans, help! I-I can’t find them! I can’t find the human!”

“They just entered Waterfall. Look near the entrance,” Sans tells her, his voice monotone.

“R-really?! Oh my gosh, they’re moving so fast! W-what about you and Papyrus? Are you two..Have you made it out?”

“No, we haven’t.”

“Where are you? Where’s Papyrus?”

“. . .”

“..Sans?”

“..He’s dead.”

“Oh. Oh god. I..I’m so sorry..”

Sans shakes his head, “It’s fine. We should focus on evacuations.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok. Get here as soon as possible.”

“I will. See ya.” Sans hangs up, staring at the pile of dust.

“Bet you believe me now.” Flowey’s voice pipes up from behind. Sans slowly puts his phone away.

“Yeah. Sure. I believe you.” Bones rise out of the ground around Flowey and lift him into the air, taking the dirt along with him. Sans turns to face him. “So tell me, if you knew what was going on, why are you helping them?”

“Ha..helping them? What do you mean?” Flowey’s voice tremors a little. 

“Don’t play dumb. Papyrus…all of his puzzles and traps are covered in vines, and last I checked, the kid’s not made of plants.”

Flowey shifts around, uncomfortable. “I was making things go faster. This timeline’s already screwed, and you weren’t going to help, so might as well let the human reset and try again.”

“Reset, huh?”

Flowey nods. “That human..they have..way more determination than I could ever hope for. That’s how they’re able to come back every time and kill everyone. If I remember correctly, they’ve reset about 570 times already.” Sans thinks for a second, then pulls out his phone as Flowey continues. “And the worst part is that no one else remembers. No one can remember. All of you just spout off the same stupid lines about ‘deja vu’ and…what are you doing?”

“Just checkin’ something.” He turns back to Flowey. “Ok, so, question. If you knew all of this was happening, why didn’t you try getting help before..oh, I don’t know, 100 runs? Or even 10?”

Flowey pauses for a moment in reminiscence. “I..thought they were…,” he shakes his head, “It doesn’t matter. I’m trying to stop it now, isn’t that enough?”

“Maybe.”

Sans looks back at his phone. The video Alphys sent earlier with the timeline list finishes playing, stopping at 570.

Flowey tries to look Sans in the eyes. “So? Are you helping or what?”

“Heh,” Sans puts his phone away, “sure. I’ll try to help… in the next run.” He starts to walk away. 

“What? Why the next run?”

“Well, it’s like you said. This timeline’s screwed, so why bother?”

“You’ll forget everything in the reset though.”

Sans thinks for a moment, then smiles wider. “Oh yeah, you’re right. Luckily, I have a solution for this. A passcode. One that only I know. I usually save it, just in case I come across a time traveler. So, next time, just pop by my window or something, tell me the code, then fill me in on everything, capiche?”

“Ok, what’s the code?”

Sans gets closer, gesturing for Flowey to do the same. He whispers the code to him. Flowey reels back.

“I’M NOT SAYING THAT! WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU!?”

“Well, that’s the code I have.”

“You gotta have something else.”

“Can’t. If I change it now, you’ll use the wrong code and I won’t know.”

Flowey grumbles, “You jerk, fine!”

“Cool.”

Sans recalls the bones, sending the chunk of dirt crashing back into the ground. He begins to walk off when Flowey calls out after him.

“That’s what they’re looking for, by the way.”

Sans takes a look back. Flowey continues.

“A change. That’s what the human’s looking for. So try to act normal.”

“That won’t be a problem.”

Flowey disappears into the dirt. Sans stares for a bit, then teleports into Alphys’s lab.

“‘Sup Al.”

“AH!” Alphys flinches at Sans’s sudden appearance. She readjusts her glasses. “Sans! I-I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I didn’t either, whatcha up to?”

“I, uh..I came up with a plan.”

“K. What is it?”

“Uh, well, I-I called..well, I didn’t call her, Mettaton did, b-but we called Undyne a-and told her what’s going on. So she’s going to help evacuate Waterfall and maybe, hopefully stop the human. And if..if she…if she can’t..then..uh..” Alphys readjusts her glasses, “S-sorry.”

“It’s alright. What happens if she can’t?”

“..If she can’t, then I’m supposed to call Asgore and t-tell him to absorb the human souls so m-maybe he can defeat them.”

“Ok. Where will the escaped monsters go?”

“Well, we could take them to less populated areas, or harder to access places. I-if we really need to, we could take them to places that have already been affected, considering that it’s unlikely the human would look there again.”

“Ok. Are we going to help?”

“I need to put out the notice to the other areas, and after that I’m going to help with Hotland.”

“Alright. I’ll go move some monsters in Waterfall.”

With that, Sans teleports into Waterfall. The day goes just as last time, and soon, Sans finds himself back to dying in the judgment hall, telling the human where he’s going and asking if Papyrus wants anything before dissolving into dust.

Next---https://www.tumblr.com/ask-aidtale/723938110179803136/aidtale-origins-chapter-4?source=share

Previous---https://www.tumblr.com/ask-aidtale/723937991398162432/aidtale-origins-chapter-2?source=share

[kingdom-in-flames-and-sugar]

Day three

I just got back home from a three day trip to Asheville NC. I went to the Biltmore Estate and honestly it was absolutely stunning, it is definitely something I want to do again and spend more time at, you definitely can’t do everything in one day sadly.

The only issue I had with this whole trip was my aunt. And I know how that sounds but this was my first time genuinely meeting her since I was about 5 years old, and while I think that she is very sweet and caring, as someone who works in the service industry currently, I hated how she treated most servers. Though, when she wasn't making us move from table to table or complaining about the lighting or temperature and demanding that it be fixed for her. She was very entertaining. 

As someone who is currently single and has been for a few years now, every time she saw an attractive guy “near” my age she would say “oh i’m her aunt and were trying to find her a boyfriend” or she would stop mid conversation to say “Oh look, he’s so cute isn't he?” cue the embarrassment if u will... 

here's a short list of a few people she did this too during our trip:

1: Two men we met in an elevator

2: The hotel manager of the hotel we were staying in

3: The two bartenders at Biltmore

There were a few more people I just can't remember currently, these instances were also the most memorable because of their reactions.

Though my favorite was definitely the two bartenders. We sat at the bar and our server was super funny and yes, he was very attractive. I asked if he had any recommendations from the menu and i was already looking at their pork burger so when he suggested it i wanted to try it. When i got the burger it tasted great, it was just a bit dry, and i could tell by the look on his face that he felt really bad, i'm assuming because he recommended it. But i truly did like the burger i just didn't want to put ketchup on it, he asked if I wanted to change my order, or if i would like them to make a new one, but we both settled for some mayonnaise. Which did wonders, I couldn't even tell that it was dry any more. 

Now when i think back, we made a lot of eye contact, almost every time i looked around the bar he would already be looking at me or we would make eye contact, and that could've been because he was just checking on our drinks or something. But it was the same for the other bartender that was there, if either of them were taking someones order or putting stuff away or anything i would make eye contact with them, and they were both very very attractive so i felt some type of way. Though our bartender did come around often and had a bunch of conversations with us about a bunch of random things.

At the end of our meal when he gave us the check, he didn't even charge us for the burger, and while were were packing up, both of the bartenders were there and we were talking about random stuff. I asked the second guy how old he was because he looks close to my age and he said “oh i'm 35.” when i tell u my reaction was plastered on my face. I looked at him and said “No, there's no way, I would've guessed 25, 26 maybe.” he told me he was flattered though. Then my aunt says “oh there aren't any cute guys where she's from so were trying to find her a boyfriend.” now the guy who was not our bartender leaned in and said “Oh really?” and the guy who was our server asked how old i was, and i'm sure that them finding out that im only 18 was not going make them super comfortable, but all in all they were very sweet and i was very flustered at the end.

[agirlwhoisaphantom]

Pancakes for Dinner - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You have dated Bucky for a couple of years and Bucky is ready to pop the question. But does everything go according to plan?

18+

Word Count: 4,285

Warnings: Fluff, a hint of anxiety, car sex, biting, cream pie, Smut

Author's Note: This was supposed to be fluffy but hey I'm glad it took the turn it did.

Nude Lipstick? Check.

Cute Heals? Already wearing them.

Wearing a dress that hugged your curves perfectly? Yes.

When you and Bucky got together, he promised you that he would take you out on a date at least once a month. It didn’t matter if you were both tired. He always wanted to take you out.

This time it was a bit different. Bucky was taking you to somewhere fancy. When you would ask him about the restaurant, he would simply try to ignore the question.

You were finishing up getting ready when Bucky was leaning on the doorframe staring at how beautiful you looked. He loved seeing you wearing your pajamas with ketchup stains, but whenever you would get ready, his mind would go wild. He had a smile on his face as his eyes were roaming all over your body. You were wearing a beautiful long black velvet dress that was a deep cut on the chest area. Bucky always thought that he was lucky to have you by his side. He was always grateful that you were.

Ring…. Ring…Ring…

Bucky’s phone started to ring. “I’ll be back, Doll. Steve is calling me.”

He goes to the bathroom downstairs and locks himself in it. He wanted to make sure that you were unable to hear his conversation with Steve. Luckily, you were playing music as you were getting ready.

“Buck, are you ready to do this?”

“Yes, I’m ready to ask her” he pauses as he places his hands on his pockets, holding an item. “I have everything planned out. She is going to love it” a small chuckle escapes his mouth as he starts pacing back and forth. “I’m a bit nervous about doing this.”

Steve takes a big breath, loud enough that Bucky was able to hear it through the phone. “There is nothing to be nervous about, Buck. You love her. Just remember all those things that you have told me, that you can’t wait to build a family with her, that you wouldn’t trade anything in this world for her”

Bucky started to breathe heavily as his steps were getting heavier. He knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, but he wasn’t sure If you wanted to do the same. The thought that your answer was going to be no, scared him.

He completely ignored everything that Steve was telling him. It’s white noise to him. He takes a couple of deep breaths. “I can do this. I have to go, Steve thanks for the pep talk. I’ll let you know when we leave so you and the rest can come to the house.”

Turning on the faucet, he throws cold water towards his face. “you got this, you can do it,” he whispered to himself.

Whenever you would get ready, Bucky would usually stay and watch you. He would compliment you and tell you sweet things to boost up your confidence. He didn’t care if he got a call. He would stay and let you listen in. So, it was odd that he left to talk to Steve about something.

Walking down the stairs, you notice that Bucky was at the bottom with his hand on the railing. Bucky’s eyes were digesting as he looked at you from head to toe. He was speechless. His eyes were sparkly, his mouth was hanging open slightly as he took in your appearance. To him, you were walking in slow motion. You looked so beautiful, he didn’t want to forget this moment.

Once you were at the last few steps of the staircase, Bucky extends his hand towards you. Without a second thought, you place your hand on his hand. “You look so beautiful, Doll.” He had a smile on his face.

Bucky was wearing a tailored black suit with a white shirt underneath, the two first buttons were unbuttoned, and his hair slicked back. Fuck, he looked good. “Babe, are you sure we can’t just stay in tonight and order pizza?” you knit your eyebrows together and push your bottom lip forward, making a pouty face.

“We have to go. The reservation is at 8pm” Bucky rolls his eyes as he gives a brief chuckle. He gets near you and places his metal hand on your waist meanwhile his other hand goes behind your head. He wanted to look at you up close. He wanted to see every little detail on your face. He mainly wanted to admire what was his. “Wait here. I have something to give you before we head out” He leans in to give you a forehead kiss.

Bucky heads to the kitchen to grab your gift. Your mind wonders what he could be talking to Steve about. Before your thoughts could continue, on the corner of your eye, you can see Bucky walking towards you with roses and a sunflower bouquet. Those were your favorite combination of flowers. “Bucky, you didn’t have too” your eyes start to water. You were so grateful to have him in your life.

Placing the bouquet on your arms, “I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. This is the first time we ever go out to a fancy place, and I want you to remember this” You get on your toes to give Bucky a kiss on his lips before you both head out.

Bucky held on the side of your dress. He didn’t want the tail of the dress to get dirty. When he opened the car door for you, he helped you by lifting the dress, making sure that it didn’t get trapped on the door.

Hungry eyes

One look at you and I can't disguise

On your drive to the restaurant, you shared laughs with stupid jokes you both would make. Every time your favorite song played, you and Bucky would sing your hearts out. You would dance. Meanwhile, Bucky would try to as he was driving.

A couple of minutes later, you were sitting across from Bucky at a very fancy restaurant. It was well decorated, and the ceilings were very tall with so many beautiful chandeliers. The place was dimly lit with a lot of candles.

You watched him look over the menu, and your mind wandered away from the food. You started to wonder when he had time to plan all of this and what was Steve’s call about. He was always with you, and if he wasn’t with you, he was with Steve and Sam. Your eyes were roaming all over him, from his steel-blue eyes to his metal hand. It brought you joy that he finally felt comfortable showing his metal arm in public.

“What is that beautiful mind thinking about?” Bucky asked you, breaking your inner monologue. Most of the time, he can tell what was going on in your mind. But due to him being nervous about what he is going to do later tonight, he couldn’t figure out what was going through your head.

Looking back down to the menu, “Oh, it’s nothing. Just wondering what I should get to eat.” You shrugged. With your index finger, you randomly pointed to something on it “hmm, chicken parmesan sounds good.”

Bucky shakes his head, and a lopsided grin forms on his face. “Ever since the day that I met you, you have never been a good liar,” he winks at you as he takes a drink from his cup of wine. “especially when it comes to lying to me.”

You take a big breath as you sighed “I’m just grateful” you didn’t want to throw any clues that you were suspicious of him. “that you are in my life, Buck.”

Bucky nodded, indicating that he felt the same way towards you. “I am too, doll. I have a feeling that you are a bit confused about why I brought you here. I just thought that it was time for us to go to a real fancy place” He looks up at you with wide eyes and places his hand on top of yours.

He was always thoughtful about the locations he took you. He always wanted to make sure you were comfortable and that you would enjoy being there. “It’s perfect, honey” you turn your hand so you can hold his hand.

He takes a big breath as he relieved his tense shoulders when he heard that you loved being here. “I should have brought you here sooner.”

“yes, you should of,” you said in a teasing voice.

Bucky sets down the menu and stares at you. “Mmm… you should be careful with that teasing,” He prompted you, leaning in towards you from across the table.

You grinned mischievously and leaned in as well, so you were closer to him “or what am I going to get punished later if I continue?” you asked in a low voice.

He had the same look you did as he nodded.

You gently bit your lower lip “oh, you wouldn’t dare,” you said slowly and seductively.

Placing his metal hand on your cheek, “Yeah, let’s see about that,” slowly moving it towards your neck, gently wrapping his metal fingers around it. He winked at you.

You both leaned back as the waiter came back to take your orders.

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

Throughout dinner with Bucky, there were shared laughs between the two of you. He would tell you stories about how he and Steve were as kids. How he was tall meanwhile, Steve was short that would always put newspapers on the insides of his shoes to seem taller. You always loved hearing his stories.

"Bucky, I love you" you placed your hand on top of his.

Bucky always had a surprised look on his face whenever he heard you say 'I love you' to him. He never thought that at some point, he would hear those words from another person. His eyes were slowly filling up with tears. "I love you too. I-"

His phone started to ring. It was Steve again. Bucky takes a big breath. "I'll be right back, baby."

Bucky got up as fast as he could. He was heading to the restroom. Watching him walk away in such a hurry made you more suspicious of what he could be doing. You started to overthink about the things that he could be doing. He never acted like this. Your first instinct was to text Wanda and let her know about concerns

8:37 pm Wanda, Bucky has been acting a bit weird all day.

Minutes pass by, Wanda hasn't responded, and Bucky was still on the call with Steve.

8:54 pm Sorry, love, my phone has been acting up. Why do you think he is acting weird?

This was odd. Usually, Wanda would respond to your messages rapidly, but this time it took her time. Why was everyone acting weird?

Bucky was walking back and forth in the restroom. He was lucky that the restroom was only one stall. If not, people would think that he was going crazy. "Steve, is everything ready?" he started to heavily breathe at the thought that things might have to be moved to tomorrow. "Please, just tell me."

“Everything is just fine, give us- Peter, stop throwing rose petals everywhere and just place them on a line on the staircase- yes, Bucky, everything is fine” Steve wanted to sound confident, but everything wasn’t okay. He didn’t want Bucky to panic even more.

Wanda rushed to get Steve’s phone out of his hands. “Bucky, she is suspicious that something might be going on” there was a bit of silence. “Go out there and tell her nothing is going on.”

The fact that you were suspicious of the actions that he was doing threw him off his balance. Bucky’s mind went blank unsure what he needed to do next. He froze into place.

Meanwhile, Bucky was spaced out. Steve was on speaker.

“Peter and Sam put down the fucking rose petals. Stop making a mess. Please, you two can tackle or attack each other later.”

“Bucky, are you still there?”

“See what you guys did. Bucky froze, and he is probably panicking” Steve sounded annoyed with what was going on.

“Cyborg, do you need me to Amazon Prime you a charger for that brain of yours to compute again” Sam yelled loud enough Bucky was able to hear him.

“Can you all just shut up? I should have brought the girls instead of you three bird brains” Wanda sounded frustrated and just wanted the decorating done.

“excuse me, I am-“

Bucky hung up the phone. He couldn’t handle hearing them argue anymore. He needed to calm down before heading back to you. He takes out the box that he had been holding on to for months. He didn’t want to open it. He was just looking at it.

You were scrolling through Instagram, Twitter, any social media platform to distract your brain as you were waiting for Bucky to come back.

“Hey, let’s get out of here” he grabs your hand and pulls you out of your seat. He placed money on the table to pay for both meals and tip the waiter.

You both were speed walking towards the entrance. Every 5 seconds, he would look back at you to see your reaction. You were looking at the ceiling at how beautiful it was. Every chandelier was different. None of them were the same.

“So, where are we going now?” you tilted your head as you gave him a brief smile. With what has been happening all day, nothing can’t surprise you anymore.

“We aren’t going anywhere. We are going for a drive around town.”

As Bucky was driving, you would occasionally lay your head on his shoulder. It was a quiet ride. Every time there would be a red light, he would gently tilt your head towards his direction so he can give you a kiss on the lips.

Looking through the car window’s you notice that Bucky was driving further away from the city. You wondered why, but you didn’t want to ask him questions. You knew that whatever place he was going to take you, it was going to be meaningful.

Turning around to see how far away you both were, you weren’t able to notice the city anymore. There was an occasional light through the drive but not often. Bucky pulls over to a random empty parking lot. He leans in forwards and takes off his jacket, wrapping you around it, so you weren’t cold.

Bucky presses the button to open the sunroof and turns off the car. You started to recline your seat, so you have a better view of the sky. Bucky did the same. He lifts up with his arm so you can lay your head on his chest.

Staring at the night sky. You weren’t able to see nor count the stars due to light pollution. But it didn’t matter to you. All you cared about was spending time with Bucky.

Placing your hand on one of the jacket’s pockets, you felt a rectangular-shaped box. “aha, I found what you have been hi-“ you take the box out of the pocket. Bucky widens his eyes, thinking that you have taken out that one specific box. “oh, it’s just your phone” there was a sound of disappointment in your voice.

“You think I’m hiding something don’t you” he laughs a little.

“You’ve been acting all weird today. Of course, I think you are hiding something” you push your lower lip forward and knit your eyebrows together. You wanted to see if making that face would make Bucky talk.

Bucky places his left hand on your chin tilting your head upwards, so you can see him more clearly. He gently takes a bite of your lip and pulls it towards his direction, closing your lips and his lips together. He pulls away for a moment. “I’m not hiding anything, Doll. I promise.” Slamming his lips back to yours, not giving you a chance to respond back. He slips his tongue into your mouth in a demanding way.

He takes your hair and moves it behind your shoulders. Moving his lips to your cheeks down to your neck. He tilts your head slightly, having full access to your neck as he continues to nibble on it. “Let’s go to the backseat, Bunny,” he whispers into your ear seductively.

You have always liked Bucky’s car, since the backseats had a ton of room. He was quick to help you move to the back seats, and he followed you. The moment you both were in the backseats, his lips were pressed against yours. Meanwhile, his hands were working on the zipper at the back of your dress. The hastiness making it clear that he wanted it off of you as soon as possible.

As soon as the straps were falling off your shoulders, Bucky cups your breast massaging them. You sneak your hands to unbutton his shirt. You started to move your lips towards his neck and grab his shirt pressing your lips against it, leaving lipstick all over the shirt's collar. You gave him a smirk as your hands traveled down to his pants, unbuckling his belt and zipper. Earning a gasp from him when your hand slightly rubbed against his hard length.

Bucky notices that you were struggling, so he moves his hand from your breast to push his pants and underwear lower. He places his hands underneath your dress, pulling it downward, exposing your breasts and your torso to him. Cupping his hands on your ass and massaging them. You took your arms around his neck as you climbed to sit on his lap. "All night, I've been craving to do this to you, Bunny" Bucky smirks as he sneaks his fingers down to your heat, pushing your panties aside. He rubs his fingers against your lips, circling them around your clit a few times before gently taking two of his fingers into you.

You leaned in forwards, placing your lips against Bucky's shoulder, biting his skin as you moaned, trying to be quiet. "fuck, Bucky."

Thrusting his fingers inside of you, he smirked to himself, knowing that he can make you into such a needy mess. He nibbled your earlobe as he slowly pulls his fingers out of you and proceeds to lick them as he stares deep into your eyes.

You stroke his cock a couple of times before moving it to your entrance. You let it go in slowly, letting out a quiet moan as you did. You rolled your hips and bounced on his lap in a matter of seconds.

Bucky groaned, his hands moved to your hips, digging his fingers on your skin. Occasionally he would move your hips to control your movements. He threw his head back, closing his eyes. He wanted to feel your walls clenching around his cock and hear your voice moan and occasionally whimper.

When you released a very loud moan, he had known that he had just hit your spot. Causing him to press his lips onto yours, slipping your tongue into his mouth as you tried to control how loud you were being. Bucky swifts your body so that you were now lying down. Your legs were wrapped around his waist as he continues to thrust inside of you.

You could hardly stay quiet. Placing your hand on the back of his head, you pull him down for a kiss, moaning into his mouth. Moving his metal thumb playing with your clit. Breaking the kiss, Bucky places his other hand on your mouth, attempting you to be quiet. "Bunny, are you close?" he grunted into your ear. You nodded rapidly as you threw your head backward. "okay, wait for me. I want to cum at the same time as you do." he mumbled against your collarbone. He started to thrust into you sharply, and his fingers this circling against your clit. You moaned loudly against his shoulder, your legs tightening around his waist and your walls clenching down around his cock. Causing you to bit down on your lower lip as you got closer to your climax. With every thrust that he went in deeper, hitting your spot. After a couple more thrusts, you both reach your climax at the same time.

You both knitted your eyebrows as you both moaned together. You two had to catch your breaths and come down from your high. Bucky pulled out of you and immediately went over to grab the tissues to help you clean yourself.

The window of the car was fogged up, and your makeup was running down your face. “Look at my messy bunny” Bucky takes a tissue and tries to help you clean up your makeup.

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

Driving home, Bucky completely forgot about the surprise he had for you.

Walking into your house, you see a trail of rose petals from the entrance to the staircase. "Bucky?" you had a confused look on your face.

"Let's go upstairs and take a bath" he forms a smile on his face.

Heading to the bedroom, the trial of roses continued. You simply ignored it but deep down, it made you happy that Bucky planned this when we got home. You grab your pj's and his. Meanwhile, Bucky was preparing a bath. You stared at yourself in front of the mirror. Wow, you were such a mess.

Bucky was lighting up the candles that were in the bathroom and placing them around. When preparing the bath, he makes sure it's at the temperature you like and filled with bubbles. He places the box next to the bathtub making sure that he could reach it when he needed to get it.

As you were heading to the bathroom, that same trail of roses lead to it. Opening the bathroom door, you notice the path ended. You see Bucky surrounded with lit candles and with the scent of roses. You walk up to Bucky, getting on your toes to give him a brief kiss on the lips "was this something you were trying to hide all day?" he nods in agreement "ha, I knew it" you lean on to give him a kiss on his cheek "I love it Bucky."

"I knew you would, Doll. Now turn around. I want to help you put up your hair," turning around, agreeing on letting him put your hair in a ponytail or in a bun. He was always so gentle he didn't want to hurt you, not tug your hair too hard whenever he would do that.

You start to undress, and Bucky does the same. He lowers his body into the bathtub. He takes your hand, helping you lower your body onto the tub.

He wraps his arms around you as you lean onto him. He nibbles on your ear and kisses the back of your head.

You grab a handful of bubbles and try to throw them in his direction. "Hey, you got bubbles on my eye," he complained as he grabs a couple of bubbles and rubs them on your face. You both were uncontrollably laughing.

"Doll, we should play a game" he gently pushes you forwards, exposing your back to him. "You need to guess what I'm trying to say, okay."

You give him a brief nod agreeing that you wanted to play with him.

Bucky takes a big breath as he knows that he is about to ask you, and no matter what your answer was going to be, there is no turning back.

With the fingertips from his right hand, he starts to spell out 'Marry Me.'

"wait, wait, Bucky, spell it again. I'm not sure what that word is"

Once again, he spells out 'Marry Me' against your skin.

You were still unsure of what it was, you shifting your body now being able to face him. "I know this is cheating, but I have to know what you spelled out" you chuckled a little.

"yes, that is cheating, doll" he takes a big breath as a big smile on his face forms. "Will you Marry Me?"

You froze into place, trying to process what he just said. "Do you mean that?" your eyebrows rose, and you had a smile on your face.

"Of course, I mean it" he takes a big gulp before saying anything else, "I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to make pancakes at 2 in the morning with you. I- I just want you."

"I-"you lean in forwarding, closing in the gap between you and him. Wrapping your arms around him, you stare at his beautiful ocean blue eyes. You get on top of him, sitting on his lap.

He places his hands around your waist. He was searching all over your face for any hints of you saying yes or no. "so is this is a yes?" his voice got small and a bit shaky.

Leaning in forward to give him a brief kiss, "yes, Bucky. I do want to marry you."

Bucky sighs in relief "you have no idea how relieved I am now" he chucked a little bit.

Placing your hand on his cheek, "you have no idea how happy I am, and I can't wait to have little munchkins with you," you scrunched your nose as you smiled.

He grabs the box that he placed outside of the tub and opens it revealing a stunning heart-shaped diamond with a silver band. Bucky grabs your hand, placing the ring on the fourth finger of your left hand. "I can't wait either, Mrs. Barnes."

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

If I Fell For You (Part 15) - Trouble In Paradise

Summary: The reader is enjoying settling into her newfound children’s book career and shares how important the bracelet she gave Jensen is to her. A rainy day allows the reader to enjoy her shift into motherhood despite all of the bumps that go with it. But not everything is smooth sailing for the happy couple...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 5,600ish

Warnings: language, angst, mention of past abuse, nightmares, major angst

A/N: Uh oh. Big uh oh. Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

________

Two Weeks Later

“Honey bun,” sang Jensen as he stepped into your home office you’d set up in the small reading room in the house. “Must you work today?”

“I do occasionally have to work on that drawing thing,” you said. He pouted and laid out on the daybed, picking up a copy of the third book. “Give me another hour to finish with these pages.”

“Can I hang out and watch you draw?” he asked.

“Knock your socks off,” you said. You picked up your stylus again and went back to your pad, Jensen sitting up and watching from the other side of the room. “You can sit closer if you want.”

He got up and pulled over a chair, crossing his legs in it.

“I basically draw using my stylus and this pad and it shows up on my laptop screen,” you said.

“We could get you a better screen, like your own separate work computer. I know your stories are picking up a lot of steam.”

“I’m okay for now. All I need to do is finish illustrating this book and my five book deal is done and ready for print,” you said.

“Can I make a request?”

“I would love to put in a giraffe for Zepp but the story takes place in the woods,” you said.

“Baby giraffe? Maybe just in the background?” he asked.

You backed out of your current page and went to the last two where the foxes and wolves were playing with their friends. You tapped on a tree and erased it, sketching out a loose shape.

“Look up a giraffe for me?” you asked. He tapped away on his phone and pulled up a picture. “Thanks.”

You drew a picture of a rough giraffe, softening it some before adding colors.

“You’re really good at that,” he said.

“The characters are easy. Backgrounds can get boring,” you said. You went back to your original set of pages and worked quietly, Jensen watching carefully. “Yes?”

“Just wanna spend time with you is all,” he said, resting his head on your shoulder.

“Okay, baby,” you said. You worked for another hour, Jensen asking the occasional question but mostly staying silent and close by. After you sent off the pages for review you turned to him, Jensen offering a soft smile in return. “All set with work for the day.”

“Awesome,” he said.

“Where’s the munchkins?”

“A movie,” he said. You ran your fingers through his hair and he leaned into it. “Tell me a secret.”

“A secret? I don’t think I have too many of those left from you,” you said. He opened his eyes and looked at you through his lashes. “What?”

“You said you got this on vacation,” he said, holding up his wrist, the bracelet you’d put on him two weeks ago still there. “When we were down there, I was talking to Ray and he kinda implied it wasn’t just a souvenir.”

“I was upset that day when he bought it for me. It meant I was safe was all,” you said.

“How long after did your mom…”

“A few months. She went on bed rest after that trip.”

“Y/N, I know when you’re holding back, honey. I would never judge or tell anyone anything. You know that.”

“You got hurt because you lost someone and you got hurt and it sucks right? But it’s kinda like something happened and then you heal from it right?”

“Yeah…” he said. “What don’t I know?”

“You know how anxious you were to get in the car and drive down to the beach?” you asked as he nodded. “You’ve never been afraid of a person, Jensen. It’s like that feeling...but everyday and you’re expected to live your life normally when you constantly have that over your head.”

He was quiet, glancing past you as the room grew darker from some passing clouds outside.

“Canada wasn’t the first time you saw your father since you were adopted, was it,” he said.

“You wouldn’t believe what a good lawyer and shitty laws will do for a piece of shit like that,” you said.

“You were a kid.”

“With zero physical evidence. Everything was circumstantial. So he got out and he came to apologize or some bullshit and Ray decked him.”

“The more I learn about Ray, the more I like him.”

“My mom kicked him in the nuts.”

“I really like that woman,” he said. You smiled and he moved his chair closer, pulling you into his lap. “I don’t mean to make you talk about your dad. I was curious was all.”

He went to take off the bracelet when you put a hand over it.

“I don’t want to remind you of something bad, sweetheart.”

“Like I said, I was upset. Very upset and in public and I went down to the beach to try to hide away. Ray bought that for me and told me I was safe when he put it on me. All it means to me is that you’re safe.”

“What about you? What do you have?” he asked quietly. You cocked your head and moved your hand to rest over his chest. “Alright, sort of a dumb question.”

“Not dumb,” you said, trailing your fingers down his chest.

“Guess you’ll just have to stay as close as humanly possible.”

“I don’t have a problem with that,” you said.

“Do you have a restraining order against your father?”

“No but that’s only because Ray managed to get him kicked out of the country. He found some loophole law. He was born in the Yukon so technically he’s not American and he got him kicked back.”

“Scratch that. Ray is my new favorite person,” he said. “If only we could send him someplace we’ll never visit like...a deserted island. Or Hell.”

“I appreciate the thought but I’m not scared of him anymore,” you said. “I am however afraid our plans of lunch at the brewery are going to get rained out.”

“We can enjoy ourselves right here. I’ve never heard a complaint yet about my grilling.”

“You know what? I got the perfect idea.”

“Okay,” said Jensen, sliding the foil packet off the grill and onto JJ’s plate. You’d decided to have lunch on the grill, sitting out under the covered back patio off the playroom. It was pouring rain but you were plenty dry there. “Chicken, marinara sauce and cheese. Then we got chicken, ketchup and baby carrots for Arrow. Zeppy wanted to try barbecue sauce and onion which sounded good to me and then Y/N went for the salmon and lemon.”

You helped the twins open up their foil packets and get their food on their plates, dicing up the chicken for them before going to your own plate.

“Daddy,” said Zeppelin while he chewed on a big piece of chicken. Jensen hummed and worked on his own food. “Can we play race cars after lunch?”

“Sure,” he said, JJ shaking her head.

“I don’t wanna play cars,” she said. Zeppelin stared at her and his bottom lip wobbled. “You’re a cry baby.”

“JJ, that’s rude,” you said, Jensen glancing at you and nodding. “Apologize to your brother.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled. 

“We’re gonna play cars after lunch and you’re welcome to join,” said Jensen. “Your brother goes along with what you girls want to play quite a bit so I think you can do the same for him.”

“I still don’t wanna play cars,” she mumbled.

“You play cars with the Padalecki boys all the time,” you said.

“Not little kid cars,” she said. “He doesn’t know how to play right.”

You saw Zeppelin getting upset again and sighed.

“There’s no wrong way to play,” you said. “Zepp’s littler than you. You gotta be the big sister and do what he wants sometimes.”

“Mom would have played dress up,” she grumbled. “Not stupid cars.”

“Enough,” said Jensen. “You’re old enough to know better.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Your brother wants to play cars. We played horses all morning long and you barely let him have a turn at that so like I said, we’re gonna play what he wants and you are welcome to join us but if you don’t want to, you can play something else,” he said. 

“Baby,” she said under her breath. Jensen didn’t catch it but you did.

“JJ you’re in timeout after lunch. Ten minutes,” you said. 

“I didn’t-”

“You just called him a baby. You want to make it fifteen?” you asked.

“You’re not my mom! You can’t give me timeouts,” she said.

“Half an hour now,” said Jensen. She stared at him and he shook his head. “Eat your lunch.”

Zeppelin spent half of it crying quietly and JJ barely touched hers before she was following Jensen inside. You threw your head back and sighed before you went inside to get some tissues. When you came back out Arrow was hugging him tightly.

“Let’s clean you up, buddy,” you said as you squatted down beside them. She let go of him and you wiped off his face and helped him blow his nose. “Feel better?”

“We can play dress up,” he said. You picked him up and hoisted him on your hip. 

“We’re gonna play cars. Arrow, do you want to play with us?” you asked. She smiled and nodded. “Hey how about you go wash your hands and then you can bring out the bucket of cars and we’ll play out here. How’s that sound Zepp?”

“Okay,” he said. Arrow went inside and you carried him around as you collected the trash and threw it in the bag you brought out. You tied it up and left it in the corner to put in the bin later before you you walked to the edge of the covered patio, rain coming down at a decent rate. “Y/N you’re my mom right?”

“I’m one of your moms,” you said. “I’m gonna adopt you that way everybody can know I am though.”

“Cool,” he said softly, resting his head on your shoulder. “Mom can we play in the rain?”

“Hear any thunder?” you asked. He shook his head. “See any lightning?”

“Nuh uh,” he said.

“Then we can play in the rain all you want,” you said. You walked out to the grass and spun around with him, getting a giggle out of him. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” he asked. You spun around again and he laughed.

“There it is again!” you said. He giggled and you spun around a few times until you were dizzy and took a seat. He hugged you and kissed your cheek as you noticed Jensen leaning against the post of the patio. He was smiling and you hopped up with Zeppelin, waving him around in the air until you were back under cover. You set him down and he ran over to Arrow, picking out his favorite cars from the bucket and handing her some. 

“Well that might have been one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen,” he said. 

“You took a picture, didn’t you.”

“Oh several,” he said. He glanced back at the twins and then at you. “It clicked for you just now didn’t it.”

“Being a mom? Yeah.”

“You didn’t look to me on how to discipline JJ and you made him feel better and you made him laugh. You went full mom there and I’ve kinda been waiting for that.”

“I know it’s just playing they’re arguing over but I just hate...there is so much of you in him,” you said.

“I know and that feeling will never go away but it means you love ‘em and loving them is my only requirement for us working so this was actually a really good thing.”

“Those two are so sweet,” you said.

“It’s the twin thing. Oh what fun we have to look forward to when they are teenagers and they lie to us for one another,” he chuckled.

“Yeah but I’ll take it. Did you really give her a half hour timeout?”

“Fifteen minutes. She needs to share more and he doesn’t like confrontation so he goes along with what she wants but it’s not her road or the highway.”

“She’s been a little…”

“I know. Since we told them about the engagement,” he said. “We gotta talk to her on her own.”

“Let me take a crack at her first?” you asked.

“You got a hunch?”

“I don’t think having a mom again is a problem. I think the idea of losing a mom again is.”

“That makes sense considering she was attached to your hip before all this.”

“I’m gonna go see if I can get to the bottom of this. Now go play cars,” you said. He kissed your cheek and you headed inside, drying off some with a towel in the laundry room before you went up to JJ’s bedroom. You knocked and cracked open the door, catching her splayed out on her bed. “JJ. Can we talk?”

She rolled and put her back to you. You sat down on the edge of her bed and took a deep breath.

“You know your brother did what you wanted all day. You have to share,” you said. She didn’t say anything and you lay back on the bed, turning your head. She rolled back the other way and you sat up. She rolled again and you tilted your head back. “JJ do you want me to be your mom?”

“No,” she mumbled. 

“Are you lying?” She didn’t move and you sat back, her face scrunched up. “Are you scared if I’m your mom something bad will happen to me?”

“I don’t want two dead moms,” she said. 

“I have two dead moms,” you said. She blinked her eyes open and sat up. “My first mom, I never met her. She died giving birth to me.”

“You only had a dad when you were born?” she asked. You nodded and pulled her into your lap. “Did he get married again?”

“No. My dad was very mad my mom died. He took that out on me. He was a bad guy. He went to jail and I got adopted by my mom when I was your age. Ray was her boyfriend. He acted like he was my dad in a lot of ways. I was sixteen when my mom died. I understand it hurts, sweetie, and that it’s scary and you don’t ever want to feel like that again.”

“I thought if I was bad you and daddy wouldn’t...and then I don’t have to feel bad again.”

“I am so sorry honey but you can’t stop that feeling from never coming back. The only way you could not get it would be to not love anyone or anything and that’s not a life at all. It’s the price you pay for loving someone. Your mom was an accident. But Daddy is young and I’m even younger and I promise you will not have to feel that way about me for a very, very long time.”

“How long?”

“How about fifty years?”

“Fifty years? That’s forever,” she said. 

“I’ll give you fifty years if I can be your mom and you stop picking on Zepp. Deal?”

“Okay. I’m sorry I made him cry.”

“I’m not the one that needs an apology,” you said. “Now do you want stay in here all by yourself or do you want to come play with us?”

“I can play?” she asked.

“Absolutely,” you said. You got up and carried her down on your back, setting her down to let her run off out to the porch. Jensen got up from his seat and held up a finger, ducking back inside to where you were.

“That’s what I like to see,” he said as she gave Zeppelin a hug and he handed her a car.

“I did have to promise not to die for fifty years.”

“Fifty? You got off easy. I had to promise a hundred after the accident,” he chuckled. “I should have noticed she was scared.”

“I have more experience being a scared little girl than you do. I got experience with letting people get close again too,” you said.

“How’s that working out for ya?” he smirked.

“He’s lucky he’s hot,” you said. He threw his arm over your shoulders and grinned. “Do you want to get married in the fall?”

“This fall?” he asked.

“Can we pull it off that fast?” you asked.

“Yeah. We don’t have to book a venue which is the hardest part. I don’t see why not. What’s the rush?” he asked.

“It’s easier to adopt them if we’re married,” you said. “I don’t really want to wait longer than we have to if that’s alright.”

“I’d say let’s go drive down to city hall and get a justice of the peace right now if I knew my mother wouldn’t kill me for it. How about I call up the lawyer and ask him to start prepping the paperwork as if we already were so it’s all set to go,” he said.

“You have a lawyer?” you asked. “They’d do that?”

“Y/N, honey. My taxes alone frighten me not to mention I own a business with employees and what qualifies as a business write off still confuses me and wait you don’t have a lawyer for your book deal?”

“Should I have one?” 

“Greg is your lawyer now,” he said. “He’s good. He’ll do all the paperwork for us.”

“Oh good cause all the forms online were confusing the hell out of me,” you said. He shook his head and pulled you in close. 

“Silly goose,” he said, a loud boom of thunder shaking the house. “Let’s get the crew inside before it pours.”

“Who wants to build a fort?” you asked that afternoon. JJ jumped up and down on the couch and Jensen walked in with an arm full of blankets and sheets. Three little hands shot up and Jensen lazily tossed the blankets on the couch, covering the three of them.

“Hm, where’d those three munchkins run off to…” he said, Arrow ducking her head out first, hair all in her face. Jensen giggled and she rolled her eyes, the other two climbing out. “Alright. I’m gonna grab clothes pins and a few more things. You guys start designing.”

You stood back and let JJ organize, figuring out her first choice of blanket for a roof was too small. Jensen returned with a bag of clips, some twine and the step ladder, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder.

“How they doing?” he whispered.

“Picking out the roof,” you said, Arrow rushing over and grabbing his hand as Zeppelin climbed on JJ’s back and held up a sheet over the two of them with one hand. You smirked and she let out another eye roll.

“Daddy, can you pick up Zeppy so then he can put the blankie up? I told them they’re too small,” she said.

“Sure,” he said. “Tell me where you want it to go.”

Twenty minutes later the family room was covered with sheets, tied off to the stairs, chairs, the ceiling fan after Jensen broke out the larger ladder to get up there and assured you it wouldn’t bring the whole thing crashing down. 

“Can we sleep in here tonight?” asked JJ. 

“I don’t see why not,” you said. “There’s plenty of room on the couch. We’ll bring down your comforters when it’s bedtime,” you said.

“Can we watch Cars?” asked Zeppelin, glancing at JJ. 

“Okay,” she said. She gave him a hug and picked him up, Jensen smiling to himself as he looked on.

“Can we get pizza for dinner like a real sleepover?” asked Arrow. 

“We did cook up all the chicken at lunch,” you said, giving Jensen a side eye.

“Yeah we’ll get one,” he said. “Why don’t you turn on your movie okay? We’ll be right there.”

You let Jensen pull you into the kitchen, smirking as he picked you up and sat you on the counter.

“Seems like today’s crisis has been averted,” you said.

“I’m sure they’ll go back to tormenting each other tomorrow but I’ll take it,” he said, reaching into the drawer next to you, pulling out a menu. “So. You interested in pizza?”

“Oh that looks interesting,” you said, taking the pamphlet out of his hand and tapping at a special. “One cheese, one speciality, boneless wings and garlic bread? My little carb loving heart is in love.”

“She’s not the only one,” he said, leaning up on his tip toes and kissing you. 

“Are you coming?” groaned JJ from in the fort. You shook your head and Jensen kissed your neck, even nibbling before he pulled back. You smacked his chest and he set the menu down, giving you a wink.

“We’re coming in right now. Don’t wait for us kiddo.”

You woke up sweating, Jensen shushing you, arms wrapped around you. You took a deep breath and caught the clock said it was almost three. You turned in his arms and buried your head in his chest, his hand rubbing up and down your back.

“You’re okay. Bad dream is all,” he said softly. You nodded and started to relax, flinching when there was more thunder. “Hey, it’s okay. Nothing’s gonna get ya.”

The thunder shook the house and you tensed up. Jensen pulled the covers over both your heads and you crammed in as close as humanly possible when more thunder hit.

“Honey look at me. Please look at me.” You lifted your head and saw a horrible face in front of you, a scream ripping out of your throat.

“Y/N,” you heard as you woke up absolutely drenched, Jensen’s hands on your face. “Honey, talk to me. Can you hear me?”

“Night terror,” you said quietly. 

“Yeah, JJ used to have them. I didn’t know adults could get them,” he said. 

“Can I have a cold washcloth? And some water?” you asked. He got out of bed and padded into the bathroom in his boxers, settling back into bed and handing you the water. You drank it down while he wiped off your face and neck, running it over your head. “Thanks.”

“You okay?” he asked. 

“Mostly feel embarrassed.” He frowned and you put the glass on your nightstand, staring down at your sweaty shirt. 

“Should I call Ray?”

“It was a stupid nightmare. I’m fine,” you said.

“You were sat up eyes wide open and talking and shouting and I couldn’t wake you up,” he said. “I know adults really shouldn’t be getting night terrors so maybe something triggered you or something during the day.”

“I know my triggers and I know when it’s just a stupid nightmare. Back off,” you said. You got out from under the hot covers and went outside to the balcony, the air nice and cool from the storm earlier. The slide of the door was loud in the the quiet and you rubbed your arm. “I’m sorry.”

“I’ve seen you have nightmares. That was a lot worse,” he said.

“I thought I saw someone watching the house earlier.”

“What?”

“It was the neighbor’s kid, the teenager. It was his friend and he came over late but I thought...it freaked me out. That on top of thinking about the fact my father is not rotting in a jail cell most likely sent me over the edge,” you said. He walked in front of you, resting his hands on your arms. “I’m okay. Needed some air was all.”

“Alright. Tell me if something like that happens again?” he asked. You hummed and he gave you a kiss. “Okay, sweetheart. Let’s head on back to bed.”

“What do you mean?” you growled into the phone the next evening. Jensen lifted his head from his book in the family room and you walked away, stepping out to the private patio area on the side of the house. “That’s not possible.”

“It’s been fifteen years. He has every legal right to be in the country.”

“In the country! He got an apartment seven minutes from where I live!” you said. “I have little kids here, Finn. Tell me there’s something I can do.”

“I can get a restraining order-”

“That doesn’t mean shit to him. I need him fucking deported. I need him gone.”

“Y/N, you know me. I have never agreed to it but he paid his debt as it was assigned and he quietly followed the law. He did what he was supposed to and I’m sorry but until he does something, I can’t do anything besides help you and your fiance’s family get a restraining order.”

“So until he does something horrible again, I can’t do anything about it.”

“Y/N.”

“No Finn. I appreciate the heads up but...I have to go.”

You hung up and squeezed your phone tight. He knew where you lived. He was minutes away and there was absolutely zero help until something went wrong. You sat on a bench and bounced your leg. Nothing could go wrong. You couldn’t let anything go wrong. Who knew what the son of a bitch would do to any one of them.

You stopped bouncing your leg just as you heard the door open. You lifted your head and stood, spinning around to Jensen standing there.

“Everything alright?”

“Actually no.”

“Who was on the phone?”

“My ex,” you said, swallowing. You crossed your arms and thought of the things Jensen had told you about acting and getting in character and all that. You were gonna destroy him. Fuck you were going to end up shattering him into a thousand pieces he’d never put back together. 

You couldn’t really lie just to keep them away from him, could you? 

You saw Arrow run past in the house and made your face hard. Broken heart but safe kids was worth it.

“I thought you didn’t talk to him anymore,” said Jensen. You turned up your chin and he smiled. “You are the worst actress in the world. Who was it really?”

“I think we’re moving too fast and I want to take a break and I would appreciate it if you gave me my space to figure this out on my own.”

“Uh, what?” he said. You brushed past him and he followed you in, all the way up to your bedroom. You got out a bag and he flipped it shut. “What the hell is going on? Who was on the phone?”

“My boyfriend,” you said. He stared at you and you sighed. “You’re a great guy but I’m sorry. I can’t do the house and kids thing. I want to go see the world and not be tied down and you’re just...you’re too damn old for me.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Maybe you should have trusted your first instincts when you saw me and Doug,” you said. He stared at you while you shoved some clothes in a bag. You slung it over your shoulder and he caught the backside of it. You took off your ring and put it on the table by the door, Jensen dropping his hand. “I just can’t do this anymore. It wasn’t you. I’m sorry. I really need to go.”

______

A/N: Read Part 16 here!

[bylerbigbang]

a ghost never leaves a haunted house

40k words | Rated Teen

It’s August 1985, only a month after the events that occurred on the Fourth of July. Everyone has seemed to move past the tragedies that have befallen the small town. Except Will Byers, that is. It’s the second week of high school and the Party is beginning to split apart at the seams. But he’s got bigger things to worry about. Like the strange tingling in the back of his neck and the horrific nightmares that have been plaguing his sleep. As well as a little girl with a missing friend, bound and determined to see her return home safely, no matter the cost. Will’s not sure how everything ties together. But he’s got a bad feeling that it has something to do with the ghosts that have been appearing, popping up with painfully familiar faces and stories.

The Upside Down is gone. Or so everyone keeps telling him. But Will knows the truth. You can burn all the vines and close all the gates. But you can’t flush out a virus once it’s already been spread. After all, how do you kill something that’s intertwined with the very root of Hawkins without affecting the real world?

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Read the fic here!

Check out the art: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8)

Playlist

Check out an excerpt below!

“Did you guys see the news last night?“ Lucas asked, suddenly. He scuffed his shoe against the floor. “About the missing kid?”

Mike’s expression grew pensive. “The one from Loch Nora?” He confirmed. Lucas nodded. “Yeah. My mom has been wigging out about it since yesterday afternoon. Now she’s decided to push our curfew back. She even made Nancy drop me and Holly off at school today. It’s ridiculous.”

Will hadn’t been allowed out past ten o’clock since nineteen eighty three. He might’ve found it annoying but it certainly wasn’t ridiculous.

“Same here,” Dustin said. “My mom wouldn’t even let me out to go to the grocery store. It’s like she thinks I’m going to get kidnapped walking down the street in broad daylight.”

Will smiled, humorlessly. “It’s happened before.”

Mike’s head snapped up. “Will—“

Will didn’t let him finish. “Is that what they think happened to her? A kidnapping?”

Dustin shrugged. “What else could it be? The kid lives in Loch Nora, for all we know someone could’ve snatched her for some quick ransom money.”

“I don’t think so,” Lucas disagreed. “Dad said he knows the family, apparently all the kids have their own bank accounts and shit.” He grabbed the apple off of his plate and started tossing it back and forth between his hands. “I heard him talking to Chief Powell last night and the police are pretty sure she ran away.”

Mike frowned. “What’s there to run away from?”

Dustin had a weird look on his face. “Steve said he used to run away all the time.” He tugged on his bottom lip with his teeth. “Just because someone is rich doesn’t mean that their life is perfect. Haven’t you seen Steve’s empty house?”

Lucas nodded, pointing at him. “That’s a valid point. I mean, what if she was being mistreated or something? Maybe her grandparents showed up and took her.”

“It’s usually the relatives,” Dustin allowed.

Will had a weird sense of deja vu. “That’s what Hopper always says. Ninety nine out of one hundred.” He stuck his fork down straight into his soggy turkey. “But what about the one percent? What about the kids that go missing without a reasonable explanation? What happens to them?” Will didn’t wait for an answer. He knew exactly what happened to them.

“You don’t think it’s the Upside Down, do you?” Mike asked, voice serious. He leaned across the table, just avoiding putting his sleeve into a ketchup stain. When Will didn’t respond right away, he panicked. “It’s not like you can feel him, right?”

“No,” Will said, strangely hollow. “It’s not him.”

Not this time.

Lucas shivered, which should’ve been impossible considering the sheer heat of the cafeteria. He wrapped his arms around himself. “But the gates are closed, aren’t they? Nothing can get out?”

Will watched as goosebumps started to prickle up and down along his arms. If he squinted, he could see the same little bumps appearing on all of his friends.

[bigasswritingmagnet]

Seek a Little Strange and Unusual

Fandom: Psychonauts Pairing: None Characters: Caligosto Loboto, Chloe Barge Summary: One day at the grocery store, Loboto overhears two parents discussing their...problem child. It's a very familiar sounding conversation. He may not understand why, but he won't let history repeat itself. Chloe isn't particularly fond of her human caretakers. The dentist who smuggled her out of the store is strange...but so is she. And he, at least, understands the importance of space helmets on alien planets.

[don’t make tumblr funnyposts about headcanons guys because you WILL become attached to them]

Cucumbers, lighter fluid, toothpaste, apple sauce, quick rise yeast, mineral oil...

Almost everything! All that was left was condiments. Except...had he written ketchup, or catsup? Did it matter? Of course it mattered, they were totally different things! Weren't they? Well, they had different names.

Lobot stared between the bottle of catsup and the scribbled list, trying to read his own handwriting.

"No, no! Put it down--Chloe put that down right now." 

Ooooh, drama! He loved drama. Loboto poked his head around the corner of the aisle in time to see a small child standing on their tiptoes, arms outstretched to the cereal boxes on the upper shelf. A brightly colored box of sugar pretending to be a nutritious breakfast was wrapped in a purple glow and descending, slowly. 

A woman materialized next to the girl. Her face was tight with anger and she snatched the box out of the air. Shoving it back on the shelf she hissed "What did I tell you? How many times do I have to say it, Chloe! Don't do that! Especially not in public! And I told you take that stupid helmet off when we're in the store!"

The child's response was unintelligible, muffled by the space helmet they were indeed wearing. He wondered what the big deal was. It wasn't the 1940's; nobody cared if you wore a hat in public anymore. Just look at him! He was wearing his showercap and no one had said a word! They just left the aisle as soon as they saw him.

“Take it off, now!” 

A man appeared and grabbed the woman's arm.

"Keep your voice down, people are going to come see what the fuss is."

The woman rounded on him, her expression one of frantic desperation. 

"I can't do this anymore."

I just don’t care anymore.

"I can't deal with this, the helmet and the moving things around--!"

He’s a monster!

"I know, I know--"

Soon we’ll be free of this devil child.

"I don’t know how much longer I can put up with this! If I have to deal with one more dismantled radio, one more time trying to get her to take it off for company, one more bent spoon--"

Every! Spoon! Bent!

"I've been asking around, and Johnson knows someone who can do a procedure that’ll fix her--"

They all agree on the diagnosis and what must be done.

He felt strange. Cold and hot and angry and...sad. The child didn't seem to notice the conversation. She was trying to float the cereal box back down again. She probably didn't understand what it all meant. She was young. Very young.

Younger than he had been.

He hadn't understood either, until it was too late.

The humans were arguing again. They were always arguing these days. Arguing about such petty problems, when they could be focusing on the whole galaxy around them. She ignored them. It wasn't like they listened to her anyway. How many times had she explained to the woman why she needed to wear the helmet whenever she left the hermetic seal of her room? It never mattered. 

The box of Chocolate Frosted Sugar Bombs landed gently in her hands. Excellent. She would slide it into the cart under the frozen peas. By the time they got to the cash register, the woman would be bound by social convention to make the purchase, or risk making a scene in front of the cashier.

Chloe still hadn't figured out what making a scene meant. The term was definitely in regards to public behavior, but was applied to anything from yelling in public to silent refusal to remove her helmet. Human rules were so strange and arbitrary.

The boxes in front of her rustled. Chloe tilted her head to one side. Odd. Sometimes things around her moved on their own, but usually she got that strange tingle in the back of her head when they did. She wasn't feeling it now.

The boxes of cereal parted, excess tumbling off the ends of the shelves. Two small lights gleamed in the newly made gap. One red, one green.

A metal claw shot out, grabbed Chloe by the shirt, and hauled her through.

She had half been expecting to be pulled into another dimension, but instead she was just in the next aisle. There was no time to feel disappointed before she was dumped unceremoniously in a grocery cart. Someone loomed over her, but Chloe only got the impression of blue skin and flowers before the stranger scooped up half a shelf's worth of bags of macaroni and dumped them on top of her.

It didn't hurt. She could breathe fine with her helmet protecting her face--see, she wanted to say, I told you I needed it--but she couldn't move very much. The cart rattled and bumped, one wheel squeaking obnoxiously. They paused briefly, and Chloe considered shouting for help, but didn't. She wanted to see where this was going.

So she stayed quiet and still, holding the box of cereal to her chest as a cheerful voice cried "No need to do your beeping scans! I know what I bought! Keep the change!"

Then they were off again. The sounds around her changed as they left the store and rattle bumped their way through the parking lot. She heard a trunk open up, and decided now was a good time to figure out what was going on. She had no interest in riding with the groceries.

Chloe made the purple glow around her hands and pushed until the groceries around her lifted enough for her to move. She popped out from beneath the macaroni like a beach ball being released underwater.

The stranger was. Strange. Very tall. The lights Chloe had seen were his eyes--or rather, small tubes where his eyes should be. They twitched and turned independently of each other. He was smiling at her, and his smile seemed to stretch much, much further than most human smiles.

He was wearing a labcoat and a shower cap.

"Hello!" he said. "I'm going to kidnap you and raise you as my own so your parents can't stick an icepick in your brain to take away your psychic powers!" He tapped his chin, brow furrowing. One of his arms was made of metal, and ended in three claws. "Although I already did that first part, so...I have kidnapped you and am going to raise you as my own so that your parents can't stick an icepick in your brain to take away your psychic powers!"

Chloe considered this with some alarm. She didn't know what an icepick was, but she was sure she didn't want anything stuck in her brain. Psychic powers? Ah. That would explain the purple glow. Her caretakers had been very frustrated by it. But could she believe that they would stick things in her brain just so they could be less frustrated?

Yes. She could believe.

Her chest hurt. The macaroni was heavier than she first thought.

"Will you let me wear my helmet?" she asked.

"Of course!" He patted his showercap. "Headwear is a very important personal choice!

Chloe thought some more.

"This is acceptable," she said, and lifted her arms. The stranger stared at her. Neither of them moved for several seconds.

"What are you doing."

"You need to lift me up."

The stranger stuck his hands under her armpits and did so, holding his arms fully extended out in front of him. She dangled in the air, up, up, so high up, higher than she'd ever managed on a swing, and without the heavy weight of rope and swing seat to remind her she was pinned to this mudball planet. She felt weightless, floating, a dizzyingly wonderful feeling.

They stayed like that for several moments.

"Is this what parenting is?" the stranger asked. "It's a lot easier than they made it sound."

Chloe was so high up, her vision extended over the sea of cars, and she spotted her caretakers--former caretakers--rushing out of the grocery store, looking around wildly.

"Put me down," she said. She would have liked to stay up there for longer. For hours. Maybe she could get him to do it again later. The man used to do it all the time, before the arguing started. The stranger set her feet on the pavement, and began to toss the cart's contents into the trunk without any care for fragility. He did not seem particularly rushed or concerned, for all that he said he was kidnapping her. And wasn't kidnapping illegal?

The car was nothing like the sleek blue sedan her parents drove. The man washed it obsessively, and acted as if you had removed an organ if you so much as borrowed a single sparkplug, even if the project was important.

Not only did this car look as if it hadn't been washed, ever, it also looked like it might dissolve if you tried. It was mostly rust held together by duct tape. The car was decorated in strange patterns picked out by objects hot glued to the sides: rubber ducks, dice, plastic flowers, and many, many teeth. From the looks of it, mostly Odocoileus virginianus and Procyon lotor, although she had to wonder about some of the molars.  

"Chloe!" someone shouted. "Chloe, where are you!"

Chloe opened the door of the car and climbed inside. There was a moldy grey blanket on the car seat. She unfolded it and draped it over herself. It smelled like seaweed and toothpaste. She tried to look as much like a non-child lump as she could.

The trunk closed. Through the thin blanket she saw the shadow of the stranger--her new caretaker--lean over her. He wound all three seatbelts across her, pinning her to the seat.

"Safety first!" he said.

The car's engine whined and groaned and the calls got closer. They wouldn't be able to see her under the blanket. She was hidden. It was safe.

All the same, she felt a rush of relief when the engine finally growled to life. The car shot backwards and then came to an abrupt halt with a crash and the tinkle of glass. The seatbelts held her so fast Chloe didn't even move.

"Whoopsie!" the man said. The car lurched forwards and came to another abrupt halt with another crash. "Sorry!" Forward. Smash. "Oopsie daisy!" Back. Crash. "Almost got it!"

This time when the car sped forward, it did not stop, although Chloe did hear a scream and a bump as they turned a sharp corner.

"There we go!"

Chloe waited a few more minutes before working her arms free and pulling the blanket down from over her helmet. The car was zipping down the road, swerving violently between the other cars. In the space of three minutes they shot through two red lights. Her new caretaker was humming an offkey ditty to himself, as if he was taking a casual stroll through the park.

"Who are you?" Chloe asked.

"I am Dr Calligosto Loboto! The greatest dentist in the world!" He threw out an arm dramatically and his claws punctured the roof of the car. She could see many similar holes clustered in the same area.

"My name is Chloe. I hail from the planet Cygnus A."

"Ooooh, you're an alien! That explains the helmet! You better keep that thing on, I don't want you suffocating in our atmosphere!"

Chloe couldn't name the feeling in her chest, except that it was a good one.

"That's what I kept telling them! Just because I can breathe your air doesn't mean it doesn't have a detrimental effect on my lungs!"

"Of course!" the doctor said, genuinely annoyed. "That's Alien 101! Boy, your parents are weird."

"They aren't my parents," Chloe said, firmly. "They're my human caretakers. They were looking after me while I'm on the planet. Someday my real parents will return for me, and take me back to the home planet."

"Makes sense to me! I wonder if that makes this less of a felony."

[works-of-fanfiction]

Harmless Fun - Graham Coxon x Reader

Summary: Graham agrees to a date at the funfair with the reader. (I imagined 2020/21 Graham whilst writing this, but you can view him however you like.)

Requested by: Anon - who wanted to see an older introverted Graham with an extroverted reader - I put a little spin on this with Graham coming out of his shell more throughout. I hope I did the idea justice!

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 2.8k

___________________

Among the extravagant rides, flashing lights and hundreds of people, Graham and I seem so small. We link arms as we walk into the funfair, exchanging a couple pounds each for fluorescent orange paper wristbands and glow-in-the-dark hand stamps shaped like goldfish. Graham’s smudges across his knuckles a little and we both make fun of the distorted icon on his skin. “That’s a very chubby goldfish.” I giggle, tracing the outline of it with my finger then comparing it to my own.

“No, yours is just starving. Look!” Graham points at my stamp, rubbing his finger over it to try and smudge it. It doesn’t budge and I laugh mockingly before tugging on his hand to drag him further down the gravelled entryway.

We reach a red arch covered in bright lights, mimicking a stereotypical dressing room mirror, like the kind you’d see in a movie. Graham and I spend the next couple of minutes dodging couples and families taking photos, the repetitive sounds of phone cameras clicking and flashes going off. Coming to a halt, I pull Graham to the side and grab my film camera from my tote bag. I wiggle it in front of his face, donning the classic puppy dog eyes to try and get my way. “Y/N…” He starts, taking the camera from my hand. “There’s so many people here. We can take a photo inside.”

“But this is such a nice spot! It’s so bright and sparkly. It’ll make such a pretty picture, Gra.” I beg, batting my eyelashes like a spoilt toddler. He sighs, winding up the camera and holding down the flash button until it lights up. I clap my hands together happily, giving him a quick side-hug before shuffling to the middle of the arch. “Ask him to take the photo.” I whisper, gesturing towards a man stood nearby. Graham shakes his head, holding the camera up to his face.

“Let me take one of you.”

“You’re just making excuses not to be in the picture!” I whine, my hands on my hips as I stare into the lens. Graham unexpectedly presses the button, the flash catching me off guard. “Hey! I wasn’t ready.”

“But you were posing.” He teases, winding the camera again. I shake my head, laughing as I link arms with him and lead him away.

“You still owe me a photo later.” I huff, grabbing the camera and tucking it back into my bag.

Graham chuckles, giving me a kiss on the temple and whispering in my ear, “I win.” I playfully slap his chest and he gasps, pretending it hurts. “Don’t hit the old man.”

“You’re not an old man!” I protest, standing on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He smiles, unlinking our arms to wrap his around my shoulder. He pulls me close and I settle into his side so perfectly, it’s almost like I was made specifically to be there. “Thank you for agreeing to this.” I say quietly, my arm lazily slung around his back, holding onto his denim jacket.

“Well, you were very persuasive.” He taunts, prodding me in the upper arm and earning himself another slap to the chest.

“Graham! Don’t say that in public.”

“Say what?”

“That! People will hear you.”

“Oh, they don’t know what I’m talking about.” He teases, leaning down to kiss my head. “You always know how to get your own way with me.” His hand slides further up my arm and onto my shoulder, gently massaging it. My eyes flutter closed involuntarily and Graham hums, the sound so smug it snaps me out of my daydream. He knows exactly what that damn shoulder thing does to me. I bat his hand away and point to the carousel which is the first ride we come across.

“You were saying something about me getting my own way?” I slip from his grasp and run to get in line.

“Y/N! The carousel… really?”

“Come on! It’ll be fun.”

Graham looks around, clearly worried or bothered about something. I leave the line before anybody joins behind me and go back over to him. “What’s wrong?” I ask, hands resting on either side of his arms.

“I’m just - I don’t know. We’ll stick out like a pair of sore thumbs on there.” He scratches his head, looking past me at the people climbing onto the brightly painted horses.

“Who cares?” I whisper, leaning closer to him and pressing a light kiss to his nose, before rubbing my nose against his. His glasses graze my face and I pull away, swiping his lenses with my sleeve to make sure I don’t leave any smudges behind. “Shall we?” I ask, holding out my hand to him.

He’s quiet for a moment, giving the carousel one last look before his eyes come back to meet mine. I smile hopefully, my hand still flat awaiting his to connect with it. He sighs and takes my hand, pushing his glasses up onto his nose with the other. “Alright. But I’m having that grey horse there.”

Graham’s horse is on the left, closer to the centre of the ride. I take the white horse beside him and hold onto the gold pole with one hand, the other still in Graham’s. He looks at me and smiles shyly as the ride begins to start, a corny rendition of ABBA’s ‘Mamma Mia’ playing on what sounds like an organ. We both roll our eyes and I listen out for the chorus, joining in with it. Graham bows his head, laughing quietly as I sing the lyrics at the top of my lungs, bopping from side to side and nodding my head to the music. “Why, why did I ever let you go? Mamma Mia! Now I really know - my my, I should not have let you go!” I sing, letting go of the ride to pretend I have a microphone in my hand. Graham leans over and grabs my wrist, pressing my hand back onto the pole.

“Hold on!” He shouts over the music and my tone deaf singing. I flash him an apologetic smile, cheekily blowing him a kiss and carrying on with the song. As the tune fades to an end, so does the ride. He jumps down from his horse and helps me off of mine. We head down the stairs and stand beside the ride control box where Graham stops to fix my hair, moving a piece out of my face and smoothing the rest with his palms. “Did you enjoy that?”

“Very much so!” I grin, staring up at Graham whose face is lit up by the carousel. His eyes catch the light and I can’t help but smile at just how beautiful he looks. The slight salt and pepper colour of his hair is more visible and I reach my hand up to run it through his fringe. “You’re so pretty, Graham.”

“Pretty?”

“That’s what I said.”

His gaze struggles to meet mine and I can’t help the giggle that passes through my lips. “Look at you getting all embarrassed! Is that a blush I see on your cheeks?” I tease, poking his cheek with my finger.

“Stop it…” He says, his voice small and unbelievably adorable. I wrap my arms around him to give him a hug, resting my cheek against his chest. He hugs me back, his chin resting on my head as we slowly sway under the lights. “Are you hungry?” He finally asks and I nod.

We head over to the food stalls and I find a bench, grabbing my scarf from my bag and laying it across the seat before sitting down. Graham stands, looking at the different options. “What do you fancy?” He asks, leaning down and holding onto my shoulders, his face hovering next to mine as I read the banner of each stall.

“I’ll just have some fries. Can we get donuts later?”

“Of course we can get donuts later.” He plants a kiss on my cheek and heads over to get the food, leaving me to save our seats. Taking the camera from my bag, I sneakily snap a picture of Graham as he waits for our orders. His attention is focused on something in the distance so he doesn’t notice the three clicks of the camera flash. One photo is never enough when it comes to Graham. Even if I filled a thousand albums with pictures of him, I’d still want to make it a thousand and one.

He’s back in no time with an extra large tray of fries and a bunch of sauce packets in his hand. He dumps the sauces on the table, putting down the food and untucking two cans of lemonade from under his arm. “I didn’t know if you’d want ketchup or mustard so I just got both.” He shrugs, sliding onto the bench beside me and tearing open a sachet of ketchup. He makes a space on the tray and empties the sauce out, wasting no time and tucking into the fries. I do the same but with mustard, and we assume a comfortable silence as we eat. The action continues around us as various songs play at each ride, all muddling into one and mixing with people’s squeals and screams. The scent of different foods surrounds us and almost tempts me into trying more, but I resist. We clean the tray of fries pretty quickly and decide to walk around, cans of lemonade still in hand as we explore the fairground more.

We spend the next twenty minutes making conversation about everything we spot around the fair. There’s stalls of handmade crafts and gifts which is something neither of us have ever seen before at an event like this. I marvel at the array of trinkets and lovingly crafted items, pointing things out to Graham that I think he might like. I come across a watercolour painting of a man playing the guitar, his silhouette illuminated by the night’s sky as he perches on the edge of a dock like a fisherman. The detail in the picture is spectacular, every brush stroke purposeful in making the painting perfect. I scuttle to Graham who’s a couple of stalls over and bring him over to show him the painting. I watch as his eyes light up like headlights in the snow, and we both look at each other with beaming smiles on our faces. No words need to be exchanged for us to combine some money and buy the picture. The artist carefully wraps the canvas in tissue paper before tucking it into a stiff cardboard box. I thank her and she thanks us right back for supporting her work. We look at a few other things before continuing on our walk.

“This’ll look great in your studio, Graham.” I enthuse, holding tightly onto the box. “Although I do wish you would’ve let me buy it for you.”

“It’s not just my painting, it’s ours.” He states simply, taking my hand and bringing it to his face to kiss the back of my knuckles. A rush of heat spikes up my neck and onto my cheeks, and my gaze falls to the ground like a lovesick rom-com character.

As we walk, Graham gets onto the topic of fairground mini games and how they’re rigged to make more money and have barely any winners. It’s hard not to laugh at his rambling, and I tease him for being so uptight about it. “I’m not uptight! It’s the truth!”

“It’s for kids, Graham.”

“Exactly! Which is why it shouldn’t be such a scam. It’s not fair for kids to keep losing.” As he speaks, I spot a Hook-A-Duck game and grab his arm to stop him. He notices the stall and frowns, his expression the complete opposite of the ear-to-ear grin taking over my face.

“Go on, Gra! Have a go!” I chime, wrapping my arms around his left arm like a koala bear attached to a tree. “That stuffed panda up there looks like he needs a home.”

“That stuffed panda is too big to be a real prize, Y/N. You’ll be lucky if I win that plastic snake down there.”

“It’s worth a shot.”

I pull him towards the game, handing money to the woman at the counter. She hands me the rod and I turn to Graham, thrusting it into his grasp. “You weren’t kidding.” He says, reluctantly taking it.

“Nope!”

He aims the hook towards the brightest yellow duck in the middle of the water. His grip is a little shaky and he misses the first couple of tries, but he eventually gets it. The worker grabs the duck and turns it over to show a big black star on the bottom of it. Graham drops the rod and looks at me, embarrassment covering his face as the large stuffed panda bear is brought down from the top shelf and handed over to us. “Congratulations! You found the grand prize duck.” The worker cheers, pushing the bear towards Graham. He awkwardly thanks her, picking up the oversized plush toy and carrying it over to the nearest bench.

I can’t contain my laughter as he stares at the bear, one hand on his hip and the other scratching his head. “Well, this is ridiculous.”

“He’s cute!” I squeal, sitting down and cuddling the panda close. “I’m going to name him Leslie.”

“Very funny.” Graham quips, trying hard not to smile but I can see the smirk beginning to tug at the corners of his mouth. I give the teddy bear another big squeeze, encouraging the smile to finally surface on Graham’s more than perfect face. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Who? Me or the bear?” I raise my eyebrows and he moves closer to me, bending down to press a gentle kiss to my lips. I grab him by his jacket and pull him closer, causing him to stumble a little and almost fall on top of me. He steadies his feet, kissing me again, his hand cupping my cheek. For a second it feels like we’re the only people there, until the screams of those on the dodgems pull us out of our private moment. We both jump at the sound, Graham’s cheeks turning slightly pink before he buries his face in my neck.

“Look at us snogging at the fair like a pair of teenagers.” He mumbles, his hair tickling my skin as he talks. I find his shoulders and push him to stand up straight, standing with him.

“Oh, let them stare! I’m not embarrassed and neither should you be.” I encourage, embracing him in a hug and fluttering kisses along his jaw. He squirms a little and complains about being ticklish, moving his head around to try and dodge me. He slips away and grabs the panda bear, throwing it onto his shoulders like a parent carrying their child, or a festival-goer balancing their drunken friend. I laugh, tossing our empty cans into the bin before linking my arm with his once again.

With a giant stuffed bear in tow, it becomes increasingly more difficult to get on rides and find somewhere safe to leave it. We settle on the ferris wheel, sitting beside one another with the panda facing us. Graham stays close, his arm wrapped tightly around me as we go up into the air and look down on the view of the funfair as well as the city around us. “Sorry we didn’t get to do much. Bloody stupid bear.” Graham scoffs, gesturing to the mountain of stuffing and fake fur occupying the opposite seat.

“I don’t mind. I’ve had a lovely time.” I rest my head on his shoulder, reaching over to hold his hand. His fingers entwine with mine, his thumb rubbing circles over the back of my hand as we listen to the faint sounds of the music below us. “I’m really glad we agreed to do date nights more regularly.”

“Me too, but I’m planning the next one. Preferably somewhere with fewer screaming people.”

“Here’s me thinking you enjoyed the company of overexcited strangers.” I joke, nuzzling my nose into his neck and inhaling the addictive scent of his cologne. He rubs his cheek against my head like a cat showing affection.

“I’d enjoy having you to myself much more.”

“Then it’s a date.” I giggle, kissing his cheek and feeling his short stubble tickle my upper lip. He turns his head for his lips to meet mine, kissing me as we both mumble “I love you”s against one another’s mouths.

Graham is the first to pull away, slouching in his seat and slipping his hand into my bag. He pulls out the camera and smiles at me. “How about we take that photo together now?”

[fbfh]

light up the dark [VI] - leo x reader

genre: mid adventure domestic fluff overture, romance, smutty lemony bit towards the end

word count: 3k

pairing: Leo x gothy!child of eros!fem reader

requested: very much so, yes

warnings: magic manipulation powers, feelings are hard and weird and scary, some innuendos, the phrase hot gusher out of context, the word dirty talk, trying to "proposition [someone] in front of two for one cookie crisp", brief credit card theft, jason thinks ketchup is spicy and gets clowned on for it, one use of the word lube in reference to mechanical lubricant, shirtless leo remember that one piece of shirtless leo viria art?????? remember the caption?????, your facade is beginning to crack, deadpan joke about being dead in space, making out, whole lotta sexual tension, brief mention of a boner, teeny tiny bit of grinding, getting interrupted, c*lypso

summary: after an extensive shopping trip, you, Leo, and Jason settle into your airbnb and wait for the others to arrive. Jason takes a nap, and Leo helps you dye your hair. You return the favor by helping him make dinner which leads to two things; a well timed boner, and a poorly timed visitor.

listen to: power and control - marina, 100 bad days - ajr, all I ask - adele

a/n: let's play spot the zack and cody reference within the first paragraph

also surprise the series isn't dead!! a shock to all but mostly me!!

as with all smexy smutty nsfw content, all characters are aged up to 18+

Standing in front of a wall of hair dye taller than you are should have been exciting. It would have been, except for the fact that all the colors were various shades of honey mist auburn. You really don’t want to have to make a separate trip to a beauty store for hair dye. Your eyes land on a firetruck red box, and gratefully, you realize you won’t have to.

“Perfect,” you muse, throwing it into your cart, along with the other stuff on the list you’d divided between you. You grab a few other things from the beauty section while you’re there; some makeup, eyeliner, a glass nail file, and a tiny pair of oil slick cuticle scissors.

Nearby is a guy a little older than you in a varsity hoodie and sweatpants squinting at a two in one shampoo label.

Perfect, you think, beginning to approach. You work your magic - literally - and within a few minutes you have his credit card. It takes way less time than it used to. You also didn’t have to smile and flirt nearly as much as you used to. You’re relieved that you don’t have to fake enthusiasm around rich douchebags the way you used to, and a new inky drop of fear begins to stain the corners of your mind. You can’t even bear to admit it to yourself, but you’re kind of scared. Before you can begin to question if you know what love is and if you’re capable of experiencing it without the influence of your divine heritage, you shove it all away. Not the place, not the time. You speed up a little, passing an endcap of candy, and knock a box into your cart.

On the other side of the store, Jason checks off items from their half of the list as Leo tosses items in the cart, talking along the way. Of course, you came up in conversation rather quickly.

“She’s… a real piece of work.” Jason says, treading lightly.

“You said it, man,” Leo agrees, sliding a pack of coke onto the bottom of the cart. Jason thinks for a moment before continuing.

“She seems to,” he tries to figure out how to phrase their dynamic, “not hate you as much as everyone else.” Leo laughs at the accuracy of the statement. He can tell Jason has something else to say, so he’s quiet while putting paper plates and napkins into the cart.

“Hey, Leo?”

“Yeah?”

“Just… don’t let her hurt you, okay?”

He stops for a second. He’s so lucky to have a friend like Jason, one that will genuinely look out for him, but sometimes people caring for him still catches him off guard. Really off guard. With no idea how to begin to verbalize that complicated mess, he takes a split second to collect himself.

“Thanks, man.”

His smile is sincere.

Don’t let her hurt you. Can he just do that? Not let someone hurt him? Especially someone like you. He’s only had a few long term crushes before, all just out of reach and only getting further away. Only one had amounted to something - not that he could call what he had with Calypso ‘something’. She certainly wouldn’t. He looks around, trying to shake off the sting. He starts to get that unsettled, itchy feeling when he focuses on stuff like that for too long.

‘At least I got some good stories out of it,’ he thinks, messing with the back of his hair and fixing his hoodie strings.

“Here.”

He turns around, coming face to face with you, holding out a box very close to him.

“Hot gusher.” You say softly. What? His cheeks heat up, pulse speeding up suddenly. He glances at Jason, who’s at the other end of the aisle asking an employee something. Are you implying something? Are you trying to proposition him in front of two for one cookie crisp? He’s unable to look away from your gaze, intense and striking. You couldn’t possibly mean what he thinks you mean. Your fingers brush and he’s struggling to find an elegant way to say ‘hey, maybe the grocery store isn’t an ideal place for dirty talk’.

“W- uh, sorry, what?” he says, laughing in an equally hushed tone, needing to make sure you meant what he thought you did. You glance down, then back up.

“They’re spicy gushers. I thought you’d like them.” the feeling is gone in a split second, the same time it took to arrive, and is replaced with relief. He looks down at the box, realizing he’d taken it from you at some point. He laughs at the ridiculousness of his previous panic.

“Thanks,” he says, a reflective smile on his face.

You realize how comforted you are to see him smile, really smile, when you catch yourself having to keep a neutral face. One of the first times your resting bitch face has been intentional. Before you can say you’re welcome, Jason comes back over. You hand him the card.

“Pin number’s 0401.”

They both stare at you, skimming the label of a granola bar, completely unperturbed.

“How…”

“Credit card theft.”

The logical part of Leo’s brain starts to speak up, telling him to raise his guard, that his stomach should be twisting. If you can just take someone’s credit card without a hint of remorse, who knows what the hell kind of damage you could do to him if he got closer to you? And he really wants to get closer to you.

“Oh,” you pull a small pop top tube out of your cart and hand it to Leo, “this is for you too. You know, since you don’t like coffee,” you trail off as he reads the label. Caffeine and electrolyte drink tablets, red berry rampage flavor. He looks up at you, feeling warm and… something else, something ineffable, at the gesture.

You stare at each other, eyes locked, surprised at the strangely intimate feeling stirring in both of you.

“What are those?” Jason asks, snapping you out of whatever that was.

“Spicy gushers,” Leo says, smiling again, “I didn’t even know they made those.”

“Hot mango,” Jason reads from the side of the box, “that actually sounds pretty good.”

“No way dude, you can’t handle spicy food.” He starts to protest, and Leo continues, “You think ketchup is spicy!” He looks shocked.

“Okay, that was one time! It was a weird brand and there was way too much pepper in it!”

You bite back a giggle at their bickering, taking note of how much better Leo seems to be doing and finding surprising comfort in their banter.

It doesn’t take long to get to the airbnb and get set up. You all dump your bags in your rooms, bring in the groceries, and shove everything into the cabinets in a reasonably organized manner.

Jason heads upstairs to unpack and call Piper, announcing a few minutes later that they should be here in less than two hours.

“Perfect,” you pull out your hair dye from the last bag. It’s not exactly the manic panic wildfire red you’d initially wanted, but it’s definitely better than nothing. You stare at the box for a second, then up at Leo who’s trying to get one more bag of chips to fit in with the others.

“Hey,” you say, just loud enough to get his attention, “do you… can you get the back of my head?” He looks at you, questioning, and you hold up the box dye. He smiles, once again noting your softened edges around him.

“Yeah,” he agrees, and minutes later you’re in the bathroom, adorned in a big tee shirt covered in all your previous hair colors. He’s staring at your shirt, eyes dancing over the swirls and splatters of color. It reminds him of a painting he’d seen once, unable to remember the name.

You shake the bottle, skimming the instructions again, then start speaking to him, eyes still on the box.

“Take a section of hair, about this much,” you demonstrate, holding out a section of hair, “rub in the dye like this…”

You hand him the second bottle of red dye, and he starts on the back. His fingertips start separating out a section of your hair, and you still, a shiver running up your spine. He hesitates for a moment, then continues, and you hope he hadn’t noticed. His breath fans your ear, and you can feel the heat radiating off his chest. Your lungs are shallow suddenly, squeezed tight like a bouquet clutched in a shaking hand. You find it almost impossible to focus on dying the front half of your hair.

You don’t want it to stop, you realize. His fingertips dancing along your hair, the glimpses of his incredibly focused face in the bathroom mirror, the way he’ll gently turn your head to make sure he didn’t miss a spot.

“Shit,” he leans back, hunching forward. You look behind you, eyes landing immediately on the spot of red dye on his shirt.

“Shit,” you echo. He looks back at you, waiting to see how he’ll react.

“Oh, it’s all good - no worries. I already have a ton of motor oil and lube - lubricant… machine grade, petroleum based engine lubricant-” he laughs, “stains on this shirt anyway. Don’t sweat it.”

You almost laugh. A giggle bubbles up from your chest and stomach, but catches in your throat. Before it can come out, he slips off his dye stained gloves, and tugs off his dye stained shirt from the back. It seems to happen in slow motion. In a mere moment, your eyes engraving every detail, every line and curve and freckle to memory.

There’s really no delicate way to put it; he’s fucking jacked. Deceptively so. You’re frozen in place, cheeks flushed. You suddenly wonder what it would be like to be wrapped up in his arms, held so close to him.

You snap yourself out of the thought, all of that occurring in just a few seconds. He leans past you, setting the dye stained shirt carefully on the counter, glancing at you intensely.

“Are you checking me out?”

You make yourself roll your eyes and turn away, replying, “I’m sure you’d love that.”

Angled away from him, you momentarily reprimand yourself, squeezing your eyes shut and mouthing oh my god. You turn back to him, not recalling the last time you had to deliberately keep up your aloof front around someone like this.

“So, are we finishing my hair or just gonna leave it like this?” you ask rhetorically, motioning to your half done hair.

He watches you do this, confirming his suspicion that you’re really not as cold as you let on. A smile blooms on his face, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything as… cute as that.

“Yeah,” he replies, slipping his gloves back on. The things you do around him seem to mean more now. He notices the way your eyes flutter closed for a moment when he plays with your hair, working in the dye, or the way you still for a split second when he gets a little too close to the side of your face, checking that he didn’t miss a spot.

He doesn’t want this to end either. But eventually, your hair is fully saturated with dye, the timer on your phone counting down slowly. There’s still some dye left. He sits on the closed toilet.

“Your turn. Do me.”

“What?” you laugh.

“Yeah, a little streak - up here.” He leans forward, sectioning off a part of his hair.

“Seriously?” you ask.

“Yeah. Unless you don’t want to match…” he muses. Your eyes get this dreamy look for the briefest second, then you’re turning back to shake the bottle some more.

“I guess… I mean there’s too much dye to throw out, we might as well do something with it.”

It’s his turn, now, to feel the warmth from your body, your hands running through his hair. His eyes want to close, and bask in the feeling, but he refuses to miss out on the view of you so soft, so close to him. It doesn’t last nearly long enough for either of you, and much too soon you’re pulling away and throwing away the gloves and empty bottles.

By the time you finish cleaning up and throw out the garbage, it’s time to rinse your hair. Hanging your head over the tub, you let the water flow over your head until Leo tells you it’s running clear. He does the same, and you point out too late that he only had to rinse the dyed part, not his whole head.

You both laugh as you wrap a towel around your hair, teaching him how to do the same.

“Sweet, I’ve always wondered how to do the spa snail towel thing.”

“The spa snail towel thing?” You try in vain to fight another laugh.

“Yeah, you know… cause it looks like a snail, and they do it at spas…”

“Oh… my gods…” you laugh, exiting the bathroom and heading down the hall, “I”m going to get changed.” you call.

“Am I wrong?” he asks after you, and you bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing. He heads to his room to do the same.

A few minutes later, you’re carefully pulling on your top, when he calls through your door.

“Hey, I’m gonna be in the kitchen, come down when you’re ready.”

“...Okay,” you agree.

You check your outfit in the mirror. You can still feel his fingers brushing your neck. Your head tilts at the memory. Snapshots of him pulling off his shirt in slow motion flash in your memory.

You realize how much of an affect the last hour has had on you. Your stomach drops.

You can’t possibly be falling in love. No way. Not a snowball’s chance in hell.

You’re not the falling in love type. At most, you’d hook up with someone a couple times on the rare occasion you thought they were hot, too.

Oh, you decide, that must be what’s happening. I just think he’s hot. I mean, duh. Of course he’s hot. Did you see him in there?

That’s all you have to do; hook up with him once, maybe twice, then you’ll get over it. It’ll make his ex jealous, and they’ll get back together. It will go just like it always has. Then you can move on to whatever the next crisis is.

You take a breath, resolving to follow the plan, exit your room. You throw yours and Leo’s old clothes and towels in the hamper, and head down stairs. He greets you, and pulls you into the kitchen.

“I have something to ask you.” Your brow furrows.

“...Okay.”

He takes your hand in his, the other behind his back.

“Will you…” he looks at you, gaze piercing, “...be my sous-chef.” he finishes, holding out an apron, matching his.

You study him, a hopeful, surprisingly confident look on his face. His hair is still damp. You’re sure yours is, too. You wait a beat, before replying slowly.

“Yes. But I’m not wearing that.”

“That’s fair,” he says, setting the apron on the counter, “I will have to dock your pay for being out of uniform, though.” You let out a puff of air from your nose, biting back a laugh. He pulls out a skillet, bowl, and oil, and begins preheating the pan. You watch him pull out more ingredients, and begin to set things up.

“Right now we’re waiting on that,” he says nodding at the stove. You nod, inspecting a bottle of seasoning he’d pulled out, and settle into a comfortable silence.

He thinks back to the last time you had time like this - playing twenty questions at your apartment. A pit forms in his stomach as he remembers the conversation veering to Calypso, as it always seemed to. He shoves it away. Not this time. He steadies his nerves. “So, you want to play twenty questions?”

You agree, coming closer to him.

“If you could go anywhere, where would you go?”

Your eyes flick over to the clock. You have a solid hour, hour and a half before the others are supposed to get here. You stare at him, brushing hair out of his face.

“I’d be dead in the endless void of deep space.”

He cracks a smile at how on brand that response was. Your fingertips trail down to his neck, rethen shoulder. The smile doesn’t leave his face, not completely. Your heart beats loudly in anticipation.

“My turn. Do you want to make out?”

His head snaps up, eyes locked with yours, trying to tell if you’re serious or if this is another example of your distinct sense of humor. But he can tell it’s not - there’s something a little too close to the surface in your eyes.

“Yeah. Yes, totally-”

You grab his collar, pulling him in for a kiss, and leaning back against the empty counter.

His lips are soft and warm, moving gracefully with yours. You barely register that the first kiss ends before you dive back in. You angle your head, deepening the kiss. He plants one hand on the counter, the other making its way to the small of your back. You flick your tongue past his lips, and his grip on your waist tightens. You clutch his collar tighter, other hand moving through his hair, still damp at the ends.

You can tell he’s enjoying what you do by the way his mouth quirks up ever so slightly at the corners, and by the way he starts to harden beneath you. You roll your hips into his, and he falters, sighing, breath fanning your lips. Not quite a moan, but you’re getting there.

The front door opens before you can.

Leo pulls away reluctantly, very reluctantly, and turns off the stove.

“That was fast,” he says, panting slightly and still very flushed. They’re not supposed to be here for a while, still.

A tall girl enters the kitchen, dark strawberry blonde hair pulled over her shoulder. She looks between you and Leo with a sour expression on her face.

“Calypso,” Leo says.

"...Hi."

[thran-duils]

Lost In Zero Gravity (P.6)

Title: Lost In Zero Gravity (Part Six) Summary:  Fem!Reader x Mob Boss!Tony Stark x Mob Boss!Steve Rogers.  Reader is a call girl who runs high end parties. She catches the attention of Tony Stark who invites her back to his room with his friend. She might have performed too well because she becomes their new favorite play toy and they don’t like to share. Words: 3,632 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Smut, prostitution, infidelity, angst, domestic violence, stalking, possessive behavior Author’s Note: Drug use in this chapter specifically!

Part Five || Part Seven || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

“You did not handle that well,” Tony said irritated, adjusting his suit as he settled back in the seat in the back of the SUV as the driver took off.

“Sue me!” Steve snapped. “She was a bitch.”

“Yeah, well, you were impulsive.” Steve gave Tony a pissed off look. “Really, it’s not like you. That’s my schtick. What’s up? What’s wrong?”

Steve chewed on his cheeks looking out the window. Tony leaned forward to try to catch his gaze. “Hey. Talk to me.”

With some difficulty, Steve breathed, “Cecile lost $200k on a bet.”

“What?” Tony asked, unable to mask his shock.

“Yeah,” Steve said throwing his hands out. He shrugged, giving a wry laugh, “She just texted me. Right before we got here. Fucking stupid.” He shook his head angrily, punching his thigh. His voice shook with his anger, “This is why I told her to stay the fuck out of gambling.”

“Fuck,” Tony said under his breath, tapping his fingers on his leg.

“Yeah, ‘fuck’ is right! That’s not chump change! You know, maybe if she wasn’t drunk half the time, this shit wouldn’t happen!”

Tony hesitated for a few moments before clearing his throat. “As terrible as that news is – because fuck me, I know that’s gonna dive into my funds too – but how about next time you’re already on edge, maybe let me know so I can handle the situation? Especially one as delicate as that?”

“I don’t need a damn lecture, Tony—”

“No, no, you do!” Tony interjected. “Do you remember what you just did? Grabbing Y/N like you did? Has it completely slipped your mind what recently happened? I mean—”

Steve hit the door and shouted, “Goddamnit, Tony, I know!” Happy eyed the two of them through the rearview mirror, gauging the situation. Tony shut his mouth, his eyes piercing Steve across the seat. Taking a shaky breath, Steve dug his fists into his legs. Calmer now, he said, “I know. I know. I’ll… apologize. Do something to make up for it.”

“Don’t let your marriage shit leak into this,” Tony told him firmly. Steve clenched his jaw and Tony said, “I’m fucking serious.”

<><><>

Tony was true to his word. He came back in the evening around 9:45pm, calling out for you when he closed the door. You were lying down on the bed and threw the covers back. Coming down the hall, you straightened out your top, smelling some hot cooked food.

You walked into the open kitchen, seeing he was taking food out of a bag.

“You eat yet?” he asked, not looking at you yet as he started opening containers. Without missing a beat, he went on. “Dumb question. I know you didn’t. Unless you just filled up on apples. Terence and Daryl said you didn’t order any groceries or food delivery. So… I got us burgers. My favorite.”

He was keeping an eye on you, that was plain.

Noticing you still had not come closer and he looked up, popping a few fries into his mouth.

“I like nightgowns,” Tony commented, running his eyes over your outfit.

You hesitated for a moment, debating about going back to your bedroom and slamming the door. You had had enough of their attitudes for the day, but Tony gave you a quick, playful smirk. He was just teasing. You relaxed, coming up to the counter.

“I like shorts. They’re comfortable,” you retorted.

“Hmm. The biggest tug of war for women. Sexy or comfortable. Well, it is your place so you can do whatever you damn well please, right?” He winked at you and dug back into the bag. “Got you some champagne. Thought we could celebrate your new place.”

He shoved your burger and fries towards you and went to the fridge. “Shit. We forgot ketchup. Good thing I asked for some.” He returned back to the counter and pulled some ketchup packages out of the bag, tossing them on the counter. The champagne bottle was back in his hands.

“Thanks,” you said picking up a few fries, eating them.

“Of course. Don’t want you to starve. Also… sorry about Steve earlier,” he said, popping the top off the champagne. He swiftly brought it up to his mouth to catch the overflow. He caught you looking at him and he shrugged. “Just thought I would apologize for him since he’s not here to do it himself.”

“Hmm,” was all you said as he moved past you to grab glasses.

Tony placed two glasses on the counter, his shoulder brushing yours. He poured two half full glasses and slid one towards you. You picked it up and he smiled at you.

“To your new place.”

“My new place,” you returned.

Glasses clinked and the two of you took a long drink.

Tony dug into his burger, taking a large bite. He let out a pleasured moan.

“Looks like you enjoy burgers more than sex,” you commented, picking your own up and taking a bite.

“That could be argued,” Tony admitted.

The two of you ate quietly then, Tony refilling your champagne glasses in between. He was making far more progress than you. You began wrapping up your burger but stopped under his gaze.

He eyed your half-eaten burger and your shoulders slumped, admitting embarrassed, “I did eat a couple – a few, actually – apples.”

Tony let out a sharp laugh, “Wow, you really are that stubborn. I’m impressed. Want me to put this in a Tupperware for you?”

“Yeah, okay.”

He went to work to put it in the fridge for you. “Seriously, order some food. Fruit is good for you but damn, you need some sustenance.” He turned back around, and his eyes fell on the champagne bottle. He shook his head and said, “I’ll put that in the fridge too. You can have that later. I do gotta get back home.”

“So soon?” you asked, pouting. If they wanted to earn trust from you, you knew the easiest way to do that was being as available as possible. You knew how to speak to men like them. “You don’t want to relax before you go back home?” You pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it onto the counter, your breasts free.

“You’re trying to stall me,” Tony stated, pointing at you, finishing the last part of his burger. With a full mouth, he stated, “You’re going to get me in trouble.”

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed your top back off the counter. Tony was there in a second though, yanking it from your hand. His lips crashed into yours, his hands roaming freely. You laughed against his kiss, pulling away. He tried to snatch you back, but you danced away, going towards the couch.

He shook his head following you, “You are really being a tease. And I am really full. I don’t feel like a chase.”

“Well, I’m only going over here,” you said gesturing at the couch behind you. “All you have to do is sit.”

His smirk was salacious, coming over at his own accord. He enveloped you back to him by the couch, pressing you up against the back. It shifted a few inches and you laughed, “You need to be careful.”

“I could tell you the same thing trying to get me riled up like you are,” he growled. He forced the two of you to walk around the back and the arm. He flopped onto the couch, freeing his dick from his pants.

Coming to your knees, you took him in your mouth. Tony chortled and it strangled as you sunk to his base, your tongue swirling. His hand came up to hold you there, bucking further into your throat. You struggled to keep yourself from gagging, relaxing as much as you could as he used your throat. His head brushed the back of your mouth repeatedly and you opened for his silken length until you could not handle it.

You gasped for air when you came back up and locked eyes with him. He nodded fervently, encouraging you. You licked at his tip, making him buck slightly. Another lick before you slowly swallowed him back down halfway, coming back up. His hand came to cradle you behind your head, his fingers pressing in to encourage you to go faster. You obliged him, your hand moving to play with his balls. He groaned against the sensation, bucking towards you.

Pulling away suddenly, you drew a disappointed sigh from him. Your other hand came to play with your sex that was already wet and ready; you loved giving blow jobs.

“Still no protection?” you teased.

“Fuck it, come on up here,” Tony gestured with both hands impatiently.

His cock slipped inside you, your arms hooked around his shoulders. He groaned loudly, throwing his head back. As usual, he did not leave you wanting. His hand came down to play with your clit when he felt he was getting close. You left him space to work, and he thrusted deep.

“Come on, come on, baby,” he panted.

He came down first, twitching. You forced his hand to your clit as he tried to relax, and he groaned but obliged you now. It only took a few moments before you came tumbling down after him. His hand fell limply to his side.

“Thank you,” you breathed, your foreheads touching.

He laughed, his hands coming back up to grip your sides and pull you closer. He kissed the tip of your nose affectionately. When he patted your ass, you took the hint and crawled out of his lap, standing bare in front of him. He took you in, smiling in approval.

“Dinner and sex. I knew this apartment was a good idea,” He said, zipping his jeans back up. He got up from the couch, straightening his clothes out. His eyes ran over your body again and he smirked briefly. “You just seem to know when I need release.”

“It’s kind of my specialty,” you retorted playfully.

Tony chucked you under the chin and then said, apologizing again, “I really am sorry about Steve’s outburst earlier. He has shit going on at home that he didn’t care to share with the class. He’ll get over it. Promise, sweetheart.”

“Hopefully with a better attitude the next time he visits.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Tony agreed.

You stopped him before he went for the door.

You shrugged sheepishly and asked, “Can… I get a pet? To keep me company?”

Tony stared at you for a few moments before shrugging in return. “As long as it’s a cat. I like cats. And you need to tell me when because there’s probably some stupid pet deposit and pet rent. Gouging you for every penny they can.” He leaned in closer, his lips almost touching yours. “Do I have permission to leave yet? Or do you have any other sexy schemes up your sleeve?”

You pecked his lips and said quietly, “The cat was the icing on the cake.”

He pecked you back and said, “Good. I’ll see you soon.”

<><><>

The next morning, you got out of the shower, wiping yourself down with a towel. Your robe was waiting on the counter and you wrapped that around yourself when you were dry, hanging the towel back up on the back of the door.

You froze then, hearing someone walk into the apartment, the door closing. You listened intently.

“Y/N, it’s me,” you heard Steve call from down the hall.

Relaxing realizing it was not an intruder, you tied the robe before leaving the bathroom.

Coming into the living area, you saw he was placing a bag on the counter. You approached cautiously.

“What’s… is something wrong?” you asked. You only asked because it was 7:30am.

Steve shook his head moving towards you and you faltered, shrinking away from him slightly. He stopped, exhaling sharply. “No. Nothing is wrong,” he said tightly. “I brought you breakfast. Tony said you hadn’t ordered groceries yet. It’s waffles and eggs.”

He turned away from you, going towards the cupboard to grab a plate. He started serving you up a plate and you came up to the counter, watching him. He fetched you silverware and pushed the plate towards you before making himself up a plate. He looked like he had barely slept.

“Thank you,” you told him.

Before he even took a bite, he apologized, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to act like I did yesterday. I felt like shit about it afterward, not that that excuses it. But really. I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry. I… I didn’t mean to get physical. I don’t have an excuse for that. Especially knowing your past.”

You did not actually expect him to apologize for it; that was new. And he seemed sincere. You swallowed the waffle you were chewing slowly. You shrugged, “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not but I appreciate you saying so,” Steve returned.

You took another bite and then asked, trying to extend an olive branch, “Wanna watch something while we eat?”

Steve gave a little laugh, “That’s… that’s actually what I came over here to do.” You furrowed your brow and he explained, “Just wanted a calm place to veg out and watch some TV. I thought here was better than other places right now. Choose something.”

“Fine,” you said, holding up one finger. “Broad City. It’s based in NYC and it’s about two girls in their twenties who just have crazy ass adventures. Or,” you emphasized, holding up two fingers. “What We Do In the Shadows. Also, NYC but it’s vampires. But it’s The Office style.”

“I just finished that,” Steve said.

“It’s a classic.”

“So I was told.”

“Did it live up to expectations?”

“Sure did.”

“So, do you want comedy one with two girls that’s super cringe but hilarious. Or four vampires – one is an energy vampire, not traditional – but it’s also cringe?”

Steve contemplated for a moment and said slowly, “The girls.”

“Of course you pervert,” you said, smirking, picking up your plate and moving towards the couch.

Steve followed you, sitting on the couch beside you as you pulled it up on Hulu.

You started him proper on the series premiere and the two of you ate, Steve going for a second plate. The man could eat. He was actually enjoying it and you made it through three episodes, plates long discarded on the coffee table, before he leaned back on the couch, looking tired.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, just didn’t sleep well. The food isn’t helping either.”

“That’s called a food coma.” He chuckled at that and you said, “I’m serious. I have it happen all the time.”

“I’m probably gonna pass out,” Steve admitted.

“I’ll be quiet,” you assured him.

He patted his lap, and you cocked an eyebrow. He beckoned you and said, “You can lay here with me and be quiet.”

You had had this happen before – it was rare, a man just wanting to cuddle with you. But you did as he requested, lying your head on his thigh. His arm laid across your chest, his fingers delicately playing with your side. The episode rolled on and at the change in episodes, you heard him softly snoring. You did not dare move. Truth be told, you had not slept well either and you ended up dozing off too.

<><><>

You awoke to the jangling of keys. Groggily, you sat up, your movement stirring Steve from his slumber. You blinked, seeing Tony walking into the apartment, kicking the door closed behind him. He was carrying grocery bags and he stopped for a moment, eyeing the pair of you, before he went to the island, putting the bags up on it.

“Taking a nap already? It’s only noon. Which means lunch time. Good to see you have actual food here,” Tony commented sarcastically, gesturing the bags he brought. He began putting things away in the fridge and cupboards.

You stretched, saying, “I just need someone to cook it for me. I’m tired right now.”

“You’re barking up the wrong tree. I’ve tried to cook food for the missus, and she’s blacklisted me,” Tony responded, much to your amusement. “How about we order French? That’ll be safer. I’ve been craving escargot.”

“Ew?” you said, lying back down on Steve’s lap, and Steve nodded in agreement.

“Oh fuck off, you both like clams,” Tony called over his shoulder.

“Clams are not the same as snails,” you pointed out.

“They’re just land clams.”

Steve and you locked gazes, the two of you frowning at that statement.

“Shit, he’s right,” Steve admitted.

“You’re goddamn right that I’m right. Just because the two of you are uncultured swine,” Tony said, coming around the couch and gesturing for you to lift your legs. You did as he asked and he sat down, pulling your legs back over his lap, his cell phone in hand.

“Is there linguine at this escargot place? Because I’ll take that,” you offered. “Shrimp. Specifically.”

“That’s Italian, Y/N,” Tony replied, scrolling through his phone.

“Then can we get Italian?”

Tony shot you a look but smirked quickly after. “You got it,” Tony stated, his thumb pressing on something on his phone. He was ordering real time.

“Breadsticks…?” you ventured.

Steve nodded, “Yeah, those too. And I’ll take spaghetti and meatballs.”

“You’re just… boring,” Tony muttered but he went to work anyway to order the food.

You stretched out your limbs and rolled back onto your side to grab the controller for the console. You pressed play on the show again, cuddling up amongst them, anticipating the food. It was weird for sure, relaxing like this between them. But they had got you here in the first place and all you could do was follow their lead. It felt intimate though.

<><><>

Tony left midafternoon after the food had settled, claiming that he had taken a long enough lunch break, leaving you and Steve again.

You walked back from the bathroom, finding Steve standing next to the window and the unmistakable smell of weed emanating from where he was. He heard you walking up and turned back. He saw you staring at the lit joint in his hand and he shrugged sheepishly.

“I don’t have anything to do today,” Steve responded, taking a puff off the joint.

“Isn’t there a no smoking policy?” you inquired, coming closer. “And can’t you not get drunk?”

“The window’s open,” he said gesturing at the open window. You smirked and he shrugged, holding it out to you. “You want a hit? And alcohol acts different in the system, dove. THC definitely does the trick for me.”

You closed the distance to him, taking it from him and wrapped your lips around it sensually, taking a long drag. You held it in before exhaling slowly.

“Professional,” Steve smiled.

“In a lot of different things I suppose.”

You held it back out to him, your other hand came down, running down his chest, caressing.

“You seem on edge,” you whispered.

He smirked, taking the joint from you. “That’s what the weed is for.”

“You sure I can’t help?”

His eyes flashed at the insinuation, taking another long drag. He exhaled his smoke out the window in rings. He held it back to you and you took another hit. He looked around and you followed his gaze. “Shit,” he muttered. “Wanted to save half for later. Didn’t think that through without an ash tray.”

You left him to finish it, going to grab a glass bowl out of your cupboard. You held it out to him, and he rose his brows. You shrugged, “What? I can put it through the dishwasher.”

“I suppose,” he admitted, coming over and gently putting it out. You placed the bowl on the counter as he said, “But, yeah. You can help since you mentioned it.”

Steve picked you up, your legs wrapping around his hips. You loved how strong he was, that was a perk. His kisses were ravaging, sucking earnestly at your jawline, neck, and lips as he carried you down the hall to your bedroom. He tossed you back on the bed and crawled on after you. He was earnest, his touch desperate. He was kissing every part of your body that he could.

The two of you undressed each other, tousling around on your comforter. Steve entered you with ease, the two of you lying on your sides. He nipped at your earlobe as he drove himself up into you, his hand caressing and squeezing at your chest.

You ended up on your knees, his hand pressing at the small of your back. You arched your back for him, letting him dive deeper.

“Just like that Cecile,” he grunted, his thrusts becoming shallower as he got close to release.

That drug you from your high immediately.

Who the fuck was Cecile?

You lost the rhythm and Steve came without you, his hands gripping you tightly.

He rolled off of you, breathing heavily. It did not seem to register with him what he had done. It was not the first time a man had called you by a different name mid-sex, but Steve had never.

Pushing past the disappointment of not coming and the uncomfortableness you felt, you turned over and he drug you to his side, holding you there as he steadied his breathing. Your hand laid on his chest, rising and falling with his breath.

“That was good, dove,” he exhaled, looking relaxed. His eyes were definitely red, high as a kite. “I think I might actually get some good sleep.”

“That’s good,” you said softly, tracing slow circles on his chest. You hoped you would fall asleep quickly too to avoid overthinking about what had just happened.

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld

Fic tags: @icant-hangout-imdrumming @oceaniamaddness @multifandom-superlover @imsonick @holl2712 @here4thefanfics

[talesofstyles]

The Law of Attraction

buckle up my little ballsacks you’re in for a treat. this is pure lawyer harry filth. honestly i’ve got no excuse.

massive massive thank you to @smokeinherperfume​ for letting me ramble about lawyer harry 24/7 and @for-fucks-sake-h​ for allllll the knife emojis FGHSHSGSGH ILY 🥺💛

p.s. all of my fics about lawyer harry are standalones so you don’t have to read them in order. but just fyi technically this one happens after Quid Pro Quo. hope you like it! xx

An orgasm crashes through YN’s body, causing her back to arch in her chair and her fingers to tug hard at the hair of the man who’s working his tongue between her legs. It’s half three on a Wednesday, and instead of skimming through stacks of her clients’ contracts trying to find loopholes or go through the first set of Interrogatories once again before she sends it to the opposing counsel later today; she’s got her former-nemesis-turned-best-friend kneeling before her chair, her skirt hiked up around her waist and her knickers haphazardly pulled to the side. She lets out a groan, which only eggs him on, and he lashes his tongue against her even harder.

“Enough,” she mutters weakly, her voice barely audible and she’s not even sure if he even heard it. She pushes his head away from her, but the stubborn sod only swats her hands away while growling and doubles up on his efforts. She can feel him shaking his head as he licks and sucks away, slipping his finger deep inside her the second she closes her eyes and proceeds to bring her to another shattering orgasm in just under two minutes.

She slaps her hand over her mouth as she reaches her high again, and Harry looks at her with a satisfied smile, before licking his shiny wet lips without breaking eye contact. The sight alone is almost enough to make her want to shove his head back to where it was half a minute ago. “Feel better?”

“Mhm,” she hums happily and Harry��s lips quirk into a gentle smirk. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure,” he replies as he stands up, before leaning over to button their lips together in a quick kiss.

“I think the pleasure’s all mine, but let’s rectify that,” she mutters as she pulls away. “What do you want? You tell me and I’ll give it to you. Do you want me to get you off slowly or do you want to fuck my mouth?”

“Fuck,” he groans in frustration. “You’re gonna kill me here. I’ve got a deposition in- shit, two minutes. I’ve got to go now. Catch ya later doll.”

She shakes her head, chuckling as she watches him rushing out of her office. “Later, shithead.”

Isn’t it just funny how the universe works sometimes? Six months ago they couldn’t even be in the same room without having a scream-whisper match, but here they are half a year later, happily handing each other orgasms like sweets on Halloween. Harry didn’t even know exactly what was bothering her today. He just sensed that she was in a real mood when he swung by her office, so instead of splitting a packet of KitKats right on the dot at three o’clock like usual, he closed the door and switched on the panel by the door so the transparent glass wall turned translucent to give them privacy, and then he went down on her without saying another word.

The perks of being friends instead of foes with Harry is that she gets to find out that Harry’s oral skills are not limited to advocacy and sarcasm. And not to mention that he’s a very generous man. Sure, it’s not a trait particularly needed in a best friend and colleague, but fuck if that’s not something that is much appreciated. At first, obviously it wasn’t easy for YN to hang the white flag above her head. Her ego was badly bruised when the firm made Harry Senior Partner instead of her in the beginning of the year, making her feel that all the long hours and the all-nighters she’d pulled were all for nothing. She felt like she gave up her social life for nothing, basically put her life on hold for nothing and gave her all to her firm for nothing. She felt unappreciated, and the easiest target to channel all her anger and frustration was Harry. Because come on, who else was she supposed to be mad at? Her boss? It’d be like being mad at Gandhi.

It definitely got much easier when she finally let the resentment go, the fact that he was the one being promoted. Especially knowing well the reason was only because he came from a bigger law firm, and that he came bearing gifts—the gifts being five huge clients from his old firm—when he came into her firm earlier this year. She’s accepted the fact that him being promoted instead of her doesn’t mean that she’s not a damn good lawyer. Hell, she’s got a hundred percent win record to prove that. It was easier to hate him when she didn’t know him, but as they began working on cases together and she got the chance to get to know him more, she knew he deserved it. 

If you ask YN, she’d most likely tell you that having a work husband surely beats having an enemy in the office. She loves having Harry as her best friend, her most trusted legal confidant when she needs to strategise on a case and well, as an occasional lover on a bad day. He is her number one ally and advisor, the person she can laugh with and be stressed with, have politically incorrect conversations with, and give her bone-deep honest opinions to. He supports her and helps her with her cases—not that she needs help because again, she’s one hell of a lawyer, but it’s surely nice to have an extra brain in the case sometimes. 

Fuck, she really does owe Harry a good one tonight for giving her a nice distraction.

A ding sound from her phone brings her back to reality. She darts her eyes at her phone for a second, and she lets out a heavy sigh when she reads the name on the screen. It’s a text to confirm the dinner meeting tonight at The Berkeley, definitely one that she can’t avoid since he’s a huge client, but more importantly, one that she dreads to meet.

You see, there’s a large part of life that we call normalcy. Eat, sleep, take a shower. Wearing underwear inside our clothes instead of outside like Batman and Superman. The sun rises in the east and sets in the west. Most people drink coffee in the morning. Thirty minutes of cardio three times a week. 

As pathetic as this may sound, pining for Luke, that said client who also happens to be her ex-boyfriend has been YN’s normalcy for the past two years. Luckily, his company is her client and not the man himself so she got away with keeping contact to a  bare minimum. Meeting him only about two to three times a year and only when it’s absolutely necessary and cannot be handled by his General Counsel. But apparently, his step-father decided to retire and pass his hotel business to him—honestly, as if he’s not bloody minted already—and he needs her now more than ever because even though he knows his way around the business world, this whole thing is a new territory for him. 

This is the second time in a week that he’s arranged a meeting and only God knows how many more meetings with him she could take. Because, as always, his presence means the absence of her sanity. And she hates it.

Welcome to YN’s fucked up life.

***

“I still don’t know why you want me to go with you,” Harry says, turning to look at her when they stop at a red light. Even though it’s dark outside, the neon-blue lights from the interior electronics cast the angles of his face handsomely.

He’s driving both himself and YN to The Berkeley where they’ll be meeting Luke for a dinner meeting to discuss his new business and his plan to merge with another hotel group. Which is an absolutely terrible idea and YN plans to talk him out of it tonight. It’s probably easier said than done though, because she knows Luke and she’s definitely familiar with how stubborn he can be. 

There are a lot of things about Luke that she still remembers. He pretends to hate those mini chocolate muffins but he actually loves them. He drinks his coffee at six thirty sharp every morning, yes, even on the weekends. He loves jogging and sometimes he wishes he’s an athlete so that he can get paid just to run and play football all day long. Even though he’s rich as sin—and God, fit as fuck too—he’s humble and definitely not flashy, so if you see him without his suits, you’d probably never guess that he doesn’t actually need to work a day in his life because he comes from old money. But Luke is different. He never touched his trust fund and he was determined to create his own business from scratch.

He’d just started his business around the same time YN started working in her firm as an associate, so she saw it right before her eyes how hard he worked during those first few years as he nurtured his business. His company was one of the first clients that she’d been assigned to work on, and when she got promoted to Junior Partner, her mentor gave her The White Company as her first official client. The timing couldn’t be more brilliant since she and Luke just broke up two days prior, but she knew there was no way she could turn down such a big business.

Fuck, she’s thinking about him again. She immediately makes a mental note in her head to ask Harry for an extra orgasm tonight to keep him out of her mind. But now she can’t help snickering at the thought because she makes it sounds as if she’s asking for extra ketchup. 

“Cat got your tongue?” He asks and she turns to look at him. He gives her a tiny smirk before his eyes get back on the road, but he reaches his hand out to her bare knee to give her a squeeze. “Still haven’t answered me, doll.”

“Sorry- what did you ask?”

“Why did you want me to go with you?” He asks again. “He wants to merge, right? That’s totally your thing. You don’t need me.”

“You helped me with his crisis a few months ago,” she reminds him. “Just thought we could do his business together again. He’ll be happy he’s getting two partners, the firm will be happy because they can charge double. It’s a win-win, really.”

“Bollocks that,” Harry laughs. “Worst bullshit I’ve ever heard.”

“That’s all, honest,” she feigns innocence.

“Honey, I didn’t go through law school for nothing, did I?” He replies without moving his head, keeping his eyes on the road. “You’re using me as a human condom, aren’t you?”

“What the hell does that even mean?” She drops her jaw in shock at the fact that he calls her out on the carpet just like that.

“You’re afraid you’ll catch feelings again if you’re left alone with him, so you bring me as a shield. Am I right?” He asks her with an accusatory eyebrow raise. “You know what, no need to answer that. Of course I’m right.”

“I told you, he’s just a client now,” she insists, trying to ignore her heart pounding in her chest as Harry’s hand inches its way up her thigh. It’s incredibly arousing, but she also finds it a little disturbing since they’re having a conversation about a man she’s head over heels for. She almost want him to stop but fuck if she’s going to ask him.

“Look, I don’t know exactly what’s going on here,” he says, and it’s really hard for her to concentrate on what he’s saying since he’s squeezing her thigh. His fingers pressing deep into her muscles and she can only wish they’re a few inches higher. “But if in any way you want to get him back, just say the word and I’ll back away, yeah?”

“There’s nothing going on, Harry,” she reassures him. “You’ve got to trust me on this. He’s just a client now.” 

“You sure?” Harry asks again. Turning to look at her briefly before he pulls into a parking space and puts the car in park, but she can tell by the tone in his voice that he doesn’t buy a single thing she’s said.

“I’m sure,” she nods reassuringly.

Harry grins as he reaches up and tweaks her on the nose. “You’re cute when you lie.”

“Shut up, shithead,” she mutters as she pulls on the door handle. It opens and she steps out, taking a moment to smooth down her dress. Leaning back down, she looks inside the car to look at Harry and give him a wink. “Now let’s go. The sooner we get this done, the sooner I can reciprocate.”

***

“You have it bad for him, don’t you?” Harry cocks an eyebrow at her accusingly, not even bothering to wait until Luke disappears past the lift to take a call.

YN blinks in surprise at his accusation, but instead of denying it for the second time tonight, she finally concedes. “Is it that obvious?”

“Holy shit,” this time, it’s Harry’s turn to look at her in surprise. He definitely wasn’t expecting her to admit it, but fuck if he believed that bullshit she told him in the car. “No, it’s not obvious. But I know you better than anyone in this room.”

She chuckles, before taking a swig of her Chardonnay. “True.”

“I meant what I said earlier in the car,” Harry reminds her. “Just say the word and I’ll back away. He’s probably still into you too.”

She just stares at him for a second. She’s obviously contemplating something, he can tell. He braces, wondering if she’ll finally tell him to back away. He has to remind himself to be cool, to just nod and smile if she actually does say that. They’re not exclusive, and as amazing as this last six months has been, he knows all good things come to an end. He has no absolute reason to be upset, he knows that. And as her best friend he only wants the best for her. If she thinks Luke can make her happy, then so be it.

He’s ready for her to tell him to back away. He does. Not saying that he’ll be happy, but he’ll accept it. So imagine his surprise when she gives him a smirk and says, “let’s go all the way tonight.”

Harry’s head shoots up, and he narrows his eyes at her. “You fucking with me?”

“I was hoping you’d be the one doing all the fucking,” she murmurs, still smiling coyly at him and somehow has the audacity to dip her eyes in a completely fake showing of shyness.

Harry’s eight-inch piece of equipment that had been jumping and twitching like an excited puppy now goes to full mast, pushing hard against his zipper. He drains the rest of his drink in one big gulp, not wanting to waste any time. “Stay here and wait for him to finish that sodding call. Make up an excuse for me and distract him while I go and try to get us a room upstairs.”

“You do realise that my flat is literally ten minutes away from here right? And your place is like, what, twenty minutes tops?”

“Upstairs is closer,” he lowers his voice huskily. “They have beds too.”

Her eyes sparkle with excitement. “Beds, huh?”

“What? Don’t fancy shaggin’ on a bed?” He says with a smirk, sitting straighter as he smooths his tie. “I’ll see if they’ve got anything with a balcony then.”

“You’re a lawyer, aren’t you?” She mocks, rolling her eyes. “Does the word indecent exposure mean anything to you?”

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

“I did,” she challenges him with a spark of defiance in her eyes. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

“Do that again and you’ll get the palm of my hand,” he tells her ominously.

“You’re all mouth and no trousers, Styles,” she taunts him. 

“Good luck trying to sit tomorrow.”

***

In less than fifteen minutes, YN is standing in a lift with Harry’s lips roaming her neck and his finger sinking deep inside of her.

She didn’t have to make up an excuse when Luke went back to their table after taking the call. Apparently, there was some emergency and he needed to get back to his office as soon as possible for an emergency meeting with the boards. She assured him it was fine and that they could easily arrange another meeting to further talk about his plan to merge with another hotel group.

Harry doesn’t waste much time as he pushes the button to their floor and the doors close. He stalks towards her, cupping her head to bring her mouth to his, and his other hand going directly between her legs. She slips her tongue into his mouth and touches it against his, the vibe of the kiss turning a bit dirty. It’s a thrilling turn on, causing waves of pleasure to pulse through both of them. His tongue ends up dominating hers in the most searing, sexually explosive kiss she’d ever been given.

His hand softly fondles her for a moment, and then he’s inside of her, curling his finger in a way that has her knees buckling. He immediately saves the day by pushing one of his legs in between hers to hold her steady. He knows he doesn’t have time to get her off before they reach their floor, so he breaks the kiss and roams his lips along her neck lightly, moving his finger in and out of her leisurely but so very deeply. Her hips flex against him, trying to demand more, but she’s just going to have to wait.

When the lift starts to slow near their floor, he calmly removes his hand, smoothes her dress down, and gives her a light kiss on the nose.

He’s smiling at her as he closes the door behind them, in a completely relaxed, but thank fuck we’re finally doing this and I’m here to fuck you senseless kind of way, and it manages to show the two dimples he sports on either side of his full lips.

Their lips meet again as he leans in, softly at first, just a taste to whet the appetite. His arms tighten around her, and he increases the pressure, urging her to open up and let him in. He’s a force to be reckoned with in a courtroom, and fuck if she’s not thanking her lucky stars that he’s just the same in the bedroom. He moves his lips against hers, making delicious little thrusts and flicks with his tongue, teasing and tantalising, all while stroking her back in the most incredibly sensual way that makes her tingling from head to toe. 

He loves how she just melts against him when he rubs her back, and how adorably dazed she looks just from a kiss. Grinning at her, he reaches a finger out to tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear. The blood in his dick thumps, eagerly demanding to move things along, but he’s determined to take his time with her. 

Her mouth waters as her hands work at his belt buckle. His cock is thick and hard when she pulls him free of his boxer briefs, and she drops to her knees with her hand wrapped around his girth. It’s standing straight up before her after she releases it for a second, and she melts at the sight. There’s one perfectly thick vein running straight up the middle, but then it veers off at an angle. And although this is certainly not the first time she sees it, she can’t help but cock her head to the side just to see where it goes. 

He palms the side of her head with one hand and holds her hair in a ponytail at the back of her head with the other. Looking up at him, she can see his jaw is locked tight and his chest is rising and falling rapidly.

She squeezes him hard, just the way she knows how he likes, and strokes up and down a few times, making him groan. His head falls back, eyes squeezed shut. “Please, sweetheart.”

“Ssh,” she shushes him before she murmurs low in her throat. “I’ve got you.”

She finally opens her mouth, bares her teeth slightly, and then scrapes them lightly over the tip. A long, deep groan rumbles out of him, his eyes remain shut tight. Exhilaration and victory swells within her, knowing that just that one tiny touch reduced him to utter helplessness. 

He opens his eyes, gazing at her. His voice is thickened and gruff when he says, “you’ve got no idea how beautiful you look while on your knees before me.”

She responds to him by leaning in, and without hesitation taking the tip of him into her mouth, making him groan in relief. He grips her lightly, his fingers pressing into her scalp as a means of holding her steady and not to force action. She licks and sucks, squeezing and stroking him with her hand. He’s watching her from above with lust on his face, and she’s savouring every little groan she drags out of this normally stoic man. She flutters her tongue on the sensitive underside just below the head of his cock, her hand gently squeezing his balls as she works his shaft. 

“Been dying to get that cherry lipstick on my cock,” he mutters softly, she can barely hear him. He grits his teeth as he slowly pulls out of her mouth. “Knew that red lipstick would look good on me.”

Her eyes slide to his cock, and she has no clue what her mouth looks like, but she’s absolutely sure most of her lipstick is gone since it’s smeared beautifully along the length of his shaft. She tries to take it back into her mouth, determined to bring him into completion that way, but his hand immediately covers her, holding her still while his eyes pin her in place. “Wanna be inside you.”

He helps her stand on her feet, and the next thing she knows, her dress pools around her ankle. His hands come to the back of her bra, flicking it open and pulling it from her. Then he drops to his knees before her. Fingers going under her knickers, he pulls them down just enough to gain access and runs his tongue up her centre. 

He had fantasised about her naked before him more times than he could probably admit that he has to blink twice to convince himself that this time is real. And fuck if it isn’t much better than his dreams.

“Bed,” he commands, and she crawls on it with the intent to lay in a sexy pose as she turns over to face him, but he’s on the bed with her, quick as lightning, and flips her to her back.

Her eyes go up to find him staring at her tits, and she can’t help but joke. “They don’t bite, you know.”

His gaze comes up to meet hers, and his lips curve slightly. “But I do. It’s probably going to hurt a little.”

A shudder ripples through her, and her nipples harden. His eyes flick back down to her breasts. She swallows hard at the anticipation, the thought of him getting a little rough with them is thrilling, but there’s something else she wants more right now.

“I’m fucking dying to be inside you right now,” he whispers in her ear. His admission elicits a deep moan to escape from her lips. “Last chance to change your mind, doll.”

“Please just fuck me already,” she whimpers, her hands roaming his body. Every glide of her fingers over his skin fills him with a fullness he’s never experienced before. “I’m losing my mind.”

With one hand pressed into the mattress, Harry uses the other to take his cock in hand. He dips his hips, pressing the tip right into her entrance. Blowing out a breath, he brings his eyes to hers and holds her captive, finally thrusts deeply into her. She screams, not in pain but in pure fucking ecstasy, as he fills her up. Harry bottoms out, his pelvis pressed hard into hers. 

Baring his teeth, he mutters, “fuck… that feels good.”

“Would feel better if you move,” she suggests with a smirk.

Harry stays completely still inside of her. He breathes in deeply, closes his eyes for a moment, and when he opens them up again, he gives her a sheepish grin. “I’m afraid to move. Afraid I might embarrass myself and blow my load in about two nanoseconds.”

She lets out a giggle, pretty sure that’s the one and only time in her life she’s ever done something so girly. Harry laughs huskily and kisses her hard. He doesn’t move an inch from his waist down but just kisses her deeply with thorough possession. When he pulls away, he tentatively circles his hips, grinding into her.

“Fuck,” Harry mutters, and drops his forehead to hers. “Yeah… definitely not gonna last long.”

Her hands go into his hair and she massages his scalp, incredibly touched and turned on over his reaction to her. She tugs on his hair, pulling his face away from hers. “Harry?”

He moves reluctantly and looks down at her with that same abashed look. She tilts her hips, clenches her internal muscles around his cock, and then rubs her thumbs into his scalp.

“Let go,” she commands him softly. “Fuck me hard and come as fast as you want. We’ve got all night.”

***

Harry’s hand reaches out, tapping the screen on his phone to turn the alarm off, laying silently in the predawn gloom pondering about his situation at this very moment.

There’s a naked, beautiful woman on top of him, and fuck if he can remember when was the last time he woke up with someone else in his bed. It’s not that he’s averse to cuddles; if the woman wants a cuddle with him after sex, he’d give it to them. The act of intimacy like that doesn’t scare him whatsoever. But normally he’d be out of their hair long before the sun is up, leaving them to wake up alone and him to start his day as if the night before didn’t happen.

He always tells himself to forget whoever he shags the night before no matter how great of a fuck she was, although he’ll allow himself to bring forth the memories when he jerks off if needed. 

YN fell asleep a few hours prior, spread-eagled over his body right after she collapsed from the most recent fuck-fest. She came, he came, then she fell forwards onto his chest and was out like a light. And he left her right there all night. Letting her lie on top of him, calling it a day well completed and went to sleep himself.

His hand slides down from her stomach right between her legs, his fingers swiping through her folds which become slicker with desire the more he plays. She softly moans in her sleep and her lower body starts to squirm. Her breathing hitches, and the second she cracks her eyes open, she gives him that happy, sleepy, please fuck me again smile. 

He gently eases her down from the top of his chest to lay beside him, rolling her to the side so her back is facing him. Then he pushes her outer leg up, sliding his body down just a little bit, angling his cock to slip into her from behind. 

Harry moves slowly as he’s spooned around her and she moans in pure bliss as he fills her up. The arm that her head is resting on comes up to curve across her chest and hold her tight. His other hand grips the back of her thigh firmly to pin her in place.

“More,” she whispers on a forced exhalation. 

“Fuck me,” he mumbles against her hair. “My girl wants more.”

And he gives her more. Fucking her exquisitely and with no doubt that neither of them has ever had it that good. He takes her higher and higher, the sweet words that he’s whispering in her ear is the complete opposite of the kinky shit they did last night. 

“Balcony?”

YN didn’t hesitate, following right behind him as he pushed the doors open. A light breeze filters in but it’s still muggy outside. They’re on the seventh floor, and they can still hear the rumble of engines and the honking of horns below them. The quiet darkness of Belgravia stretches out beyond.

Harry walked up to the edge of the balcony, which was made of stone and concrete, sitting about three and a half feet high. He pulled her into his arms and gave her a searing kiss. She moaned, slipping her tongue in his mouth and gripped onto his shoulders. The kiss was deep and wet, and honestly, the best kind of kiss.

He pushed her up against the wall, laying a palm over one breast. Squeezing, plumping, testing the weight in his hand. He rubbed a thumbnail over her nipple, eliciting the softest sigh from her. 

He brought his other hand south. Straight shot, right to her centre. Her head dropped to his shoulder as his fingertips continued to circle and rub against her. Within minutes she had his fingers deep inside her and his thumb working her hard. He wanted nothing more than to just line up and push his way in, but he waited. He waited until he saw her trembling became a little fiercer, her body tensed, and when she sucked in a large gulp of air, he knew that was his cue.

He quickly removed his fingers, bracing his hands on her hips and slammed forward. She took him all the way in and he cursed under his breath as he felt her spasm all around him when she came. For a second he thought about hitting it hard, chasing another orgasm, but then he decided against it, wanting to relish the scenery and listen to the sounds of the city.

“Let’s just quit our jobs and fuck all day,” Harry jokes as he drops her leg back down into place.

“Sounds good to me,” she laughs as she reaches around him, grabbing the complimentary bottle of water on the nightstand, taking a sip before she hands it to him and he finishes it in a couple of long swallows. 

“Thirsty?”

“Starving too,” he replies in a way that doesn’t make her think he wants some bacon and eggs. 

Within seconds, he has her on her back again as he slides down her body, roughly pushing her legs apart. Her hands shoot out, grabbing the sides of his head before he gets the chance to descend even lower. “No.”

“What?”

“Let me get cleaned up first,” she says lamely, pretty sure she’s killed the mood. “I mean… I’m filled with-”

Harry ignores her, cutting her off by dropping his mouth right between her legs and begins sucking. She shrieks from the warm contact, surprised by how sensitive she is, and as he lifts his gaze to hers, he murmurs. “That’s you and me together, and we taste fucking delicious.”

Her body trembles from his words, and through a dry and parched throat she croaks, “then by all means.”

“Thank you,” he says with a wink, then proceeds to bring her to another shattering orgasm that totally wrecks her.

[imaginesbymk]

“Find Me Under The Giant Rabbit.”

Reservoir Dogs/Pulp Fiction One Shot

SUMMARY: I read a Reddit fan theory that Mr. Pink survived, escaped the cops, got arrested and was then put on parole - leaving behind his old life and lying low as a waiter at Jack Rabbit Slims. What happens when you show up to the restaurant one night?

PAIRING: Mr. Pink/Buddy Holly waiter x Reader

TAGS: swearing, smoking + mentions of basically everything that happened in reservoir dogs which is the heist, violence, etc

NON REQUESTED

WORD COUNT: 2,870 (it’s long i’m sorry)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this is probably the cheesiest thing i’ve ever written, and it’s nothing tarantino would ever put in his films, also there’s no way PF and RS can legitimately tie in together 100% even though there are some factors to support otherwise, but i wanted to write this and see something lol :( leave a like/reblog + feedback!!!

[gif credit]

YOU put your car in park, shutting off the engine, and observed it from afar. It was one hell of a big restaurant, almost a bit too cartoon-like. There was a giant anthropomorphic rabbit on top, and the lights claiming the name were glowing a bright red and yellow. Mind you, this was in Los Angeles, so who wouldn’t blame you if you took one look at Jack Rabbit Slim’s, and mistake it for a restaurant at Six Flags? 

Dozens of bikers came in with their motorcycles, yet their engines couldn’t even overpower the chatter coming from newcomers left and right. You ignored a heavy tattooed biker dressed in all leather and denim catcalling you from afar, and you reached the front desk. 

A man dressed in uniform, most definitely in character, tipped his hat at you and led you to a table with only two chairs. You weren’t expecting anyone to join you in the other seat across. So what if you went for dinner by yourself? You didn’t bother asking anyone to join you for that matter. Not anyone you could think of at the top of your head would be any less boring.

You began tracing your fingers around the rim of the ketchup bottle when not even five seconds after sitting down, a lady approached your table with ruby red lips. 

Of course, you thought. Servers were dressed up as icons from the 50s era.

“Marilyn,” you say in awe.

“Close enough,” Instead of being seated in the Marilyn Monroe section being served by a Marilyn Monroe-looking Marilyn Monroe, you were greeted with a tall Mamie Van Doren, who is just as breathtaking as Marilyn refilling everyone’s coffee mugs from the other side of the restaurant. “How about I get you started with drinks?”

Ricky Nelson’s performance on stage came to an end when Mamie arrived with your food. You looked around the place while eating. People weren’t eating by themselves. Families, friends, dates, all of them occupied their seats. Now that you’ve noticed, you sort of wished you brought someone with you, otherwise the seat across from you is used as a footrest. 

So there, you propped your feet on top, and relaxed… then you sat upright. Your eyes fixated on the waiter in his section, which were the cars back in the 50s used as booths. You watch him walk towards one of them. The couple was a young woman in a blunt bob cut with bangs, and a man wearing a black suit with long black hair tied back.

You squint your eyes. It couldn’t be...

“Hi, I’m Buddy. What can I get ya?”

You blinked, dropping the half bitten French fry from your mouth. Holy fucking shit.

It was all coming back to you. The news broke out about the heist going wrong at the wholesale, all dead except for one, a cop who laid dead on the ramp inside the rendezvous was identified as Mr. Orange. Since he wasn’t supposed to know where you were from, Mr. Pink never turned up to your door as an emergency hideout, or to drag you with him on his getaway because he never had one. You never heard of him ever since. 

Here he was, Mr. Pink, alive and well, wearing glasses. What the hell happened? How long has he been working here? Is he supposed to be Buddy Holly?

“How do you want that cooked? Burnt to a crisp or bloody as hell?” you hear him ask the man in the suit who ordered a steak.

“Bloody as hell, and oh, yeah, look at this- vanilla coke.”

You noticed the irony. He left you in a black suit - and he comes back in white. Like he’d ever want to be caught dead in white, or pink.

“What about you, Peggy Sue?” he asks the woman, jotting in his notepad. You recognized the pun.

“I’ll have the Durwood Kirby burger, bloody. And… the five dollar shake.”

Were you about to laugh? Call out his name? That was enough for you to get antsy in your seat, but you didn’t want to draw attention. You saw him again while finishing up half of your meal, giving the couple their drinks and disappearing back into the kitchen. He was doing his job, but it wasn’t like he was giving his one hundred percent. For someone who preached to the Gods about professionalism, Mr. Pink sure lacked work ethic. Every employee was on point with their character impersonations as if you had travelled back in time. Meanwhile, he acted like himself and seemed bored while wearing an emotionless face, as if he hated his job and epitome of his existence. It was never a dull moment for him whenever he was with you, though.

You got up to use the restroom.

“We’re lucky we got anything at all. I don’t think Buddy Holly’s much of a waiter,” you heard the man at the booth tell the woman as you walk past them, spotting their food from the corner of your eye. It’s no surprise hearing that. Mr. Pink never looked like the type to work at a job like this.

You sat back down and soon, Mr. Pink reappeared, standing over to the side and watched the announcement of the twisting contest, smoking a cigarette. You see him eyeing two pretty blonde women walking past him, and he looked back his way, now in your direction.

He finally did what you wanted him to do, and he stares at you for nearly a solid minute.

You waved awkwardly. 

Mr. Pink tosses the cigarette in a random person’s ashtray and disappears behind the door once again. You darted out of your chair, and marched your way to where he headed, just as the couple he served got up on stage to participate in the twisting contest.

A Zorro waiter jumps in front of you. “Stop right there, mi amor!” his eyes darted at you through the cheap black mask he was wearing. “I believe the bathroom’s on the other side of the bar.”

“Where’s Buddy?” you ask Zorro.

“I’m afraid Mr. Holly is taking a quick break from unenthusiastically serving love birds in their cars.”

“Can you tell him I’m looking for him?”

“Once I see him.” Zorro then took out his sword and pointed it at you, a grin plastered on his face. “Now, shall I escort you back to your dining spot?”

Although you were aware this guy was only in character, you didn’t wanna risk getting kicked out, or having a realistic looking sword ripped through your body. You sighed and turned around, heading back. You noticed at your table a folded napkin beside your empty plate. Mamie Van Doren was last seen there, her back facing you with her heels clicking away on the tiles.

“Excuse me!” you called after the waitress. She ignores you, smiling down at new customers at an umbrella table.

Cocking an eyebrow, you used your finger to flatten the crease and read the note in bold handwriting.

FIND ME UNDER THE GIANT RABBIT. - BUDDY 

You threw the door open and ran outside, precisely under the giant rabbit of the Jack Rabbit Slim’s sign, just like he said on the napkin. You felt like an idiot checking every direction to find no one. Not a lot of the bikers were seen riding or hanging out around the parking lot, some people were coming and going, but you couldn’t find Buddy Holly.

Defeated, you turn to walk back inside. 

Mr. Pink rushed out the door and caught his breath. It looked like he was chasing you down before you could take off. A song used for the twisting contest kept playing from inside.

You didn’t run up to him and jumped in his arms or anything dramatic in that matter. You both stared at each other.

A few days before the heist you two stood across each other waiting for Mr. Brown and Mr. White inside the hideout. It was a quiet moment, not an awkward one. He just took that opportunity to study you, as you did him. It took him that moment to realize he was warming up to you. 

“Well hello there, Buddy,” you smile smugly.

YOU and Pink loitered at the side of the eatery, where the back door to the kitchen was located. He had taken off his fake glasses, showing his full frame.

“Okay,” you watch him lean against the wall, lighting his cigarette. “Talk to me. What happened to you?”

“What the hell do you think? Cops tagged me when I tried driving away. I was put behind bars, and by some fucking miracle this place took me in when I needed money.”

“You didn’t know any other crime bosses looking for a lanky dude?” Pink rolls his eyes at your joke. “I know the heist went terribly wrong, I saw the news. Everyone’s dead as Dillinger.”

“That briefcase had a shit load of two million dollars worth of stones,” Pink blew smoke out. “I swear, if that asshole undercover cop was never sent to set us up, I could have been enjoying a cocktail in Santorini. You’re lucky you called in sick that day.”

You shuddered, remembering how god-awful the illness was. “Never again. I felt like I was being hot glued to a sauna.”

You remembered the day of the heist. In fact, you mentally prepared yourself for something that you’ve never done before. You braced for what was supposed to go smoothly as Joe promised. Instead, you were woken up by the worst case scenario above 38 degrees. You were thankful Joe took it easy on you and promised another job next time. 

“All right, your turn. What did you do after that shit show went down?” Pink asks you.

“Just did my own thing. I wasn’t there so the cops never searched for me.” Pink took a slow drag, staring at nothing. He didn’t really look the same as before. Still lanky, except his hair was a bit more darkened and styled in curls, possibly because Buddy Holly had it permed that way. But his face read that he had been through a lot. Normally you felt zero pity for assholes like him, but you managed to blurt out, “I missed you.”

Pink, blowing out smoke in the air, eyed you up and down and furrowed his brows. “Likewise.”

Not only did it suck not being able to make money, you also couldn’t do it with Mr. Pink. As much as he kept his professionalism to a T, he squeezed in time to get along with you. It was no wonder Joe hired you - you were different than the guys, you moved differently and never felt small. Mr. Pink was drawn to that. 

Maybe that was just an understatement. He grew intimidated by something he expected to experience the least from in the job, and of course, straight out of a fairytale, you had to stop and ask yourself if you felt the same way, and if what you felt was right. Neither of you had any idea. It was against the rules to give out personal information to each other, and Mr. Pink took those rules very seriously, even if it was just one job that he most likely wouldn’t come back to unless a higher pay was involved and Joe Cabot liked him enough to recruit him again. 

If Mr. Pink grew too attached, if he let his guard down for one second, God forbid something would have happened to you. Without a doubt, he would have heavily blamed himself and walked away from the job without saying another word. 

His options were to wait until after the robbery to make a move, or do his job, get paid and leave. Whether or not it was out of selfishness was out of the question. Mr. Pink is already selfish in an intuitive kind of way, he’d rather avoid spiraling into a wave of emotions for one person - so he chose the latter.

“What?” Pink looked at you, feeling a bit tense. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Huh? No. It’s nothing,” you blinked, realizing you were staring at him longer than you should have. You shook your head, most likely shaking off the intrusive thoughts. Maybe this wasn’t a good time to tell him what’s on your mind. 

If anything, he’s most likely sleeping with the Marilyn Monroe waitress. “It’s just… you shaved the goatee.”

Pink nodded, looking a bit annoyed that there was no facial hair left on his chin to rub. “Buddy Holly had a clean face. For the record, the only advantage of this job is that I’m under disguise. Other than that, this place is a circus. I’m zooming back in time whenever I clock in.”

“It’s a 50s themed restaurant,” you state. “Working here sounds like fun. At least you get to dress up and experience pop culture.”

He scoffs. “No, fuck the 50s. Shit was all I Love Lucy and those puffy ass dresses.”

“They’re called poodle skirts, Pink.”

“Like I give a fuck what they’re called.”

“You know Buddy Holly smiled. He was a singer and a guitarist. If you keep up the attitude, no one’s gonna tip you. Nice Guy Eddie told me about your rant on tipping.”

“Ha! And? You will never find me up on that stage performing That’ll Be The Day, moving like a fucking animatronic.” Halfway finished, Pink tossed his cigarette aside and looked at you. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

You felt your cheeks flushing. Fuck. “I am?”

He nodded, putting his Buddy Holly glasses back on his face. “Yeah. It’s a breath of fresh air seeing you here.” He stares down at his wristwatch for a moment.

“Your break’s done?”

“It’s been done,” he says. “Fifteen minutes ago.”

You shook your head, chuckling. “You’re so fired.”

“This isn’t the first time I stopped caring, so my boss isn’t gonna bat an eye.” He had his hand wrapped around the back door which was supported by a wooden block to keep it open. “Look, I’ll see ya arou-”

“Pink?” Your heart rose up to your throat.

He turned back to you. “Hm?” 

You just had to do it. You reached up and kissed him softly. Pink didn’t shove or curse at you. His features softened, pulling you close to him and kissed you deeply. Even when you two pulled away, his arms didn’t unwrap from your waist. His forehead was pressed against yours now.

“My name’s Y/N,” you tell him.

He stares at you, no snarky, sarcastic comment left for him to give.

“I know you’re not willing to give your name up just yet, you can’t fully trust me, and I get that, but I won’t tell anyone what happened. You got lucky, I think… but I’m really glad you’re okay.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I’m serious.”

“Y/N,” he says your name for the first time. “You don’t have to go all sappy for me. Karma came in hot. Jesus Christ, I mean, I left you.”

“Not really. You didn’t know me. The cops had the place staked out the entire day, there was nothing you could do.”

He looked down at his shoes. “All right. But still, I feel shitty. Can I at least make it up to you?”

“How?”

Pink shrugs. “I get paid tomorrow.”

“Good for you,” you reply. “Save it like you’re gonna lose it.”

“I’ve had this job for a while now, I got enough to last. But once I win the lottery, I’m gone.”

“To Santorini?”

“With a cocktail in my hand. But that’s besides the point, right now I got enough to take you out on a date… if you’re down.”

“Where would you plan on taking me? Here?” you laugh.

“You’re funny. How about the movies? Overruled, I’m taking you to see a movie. I gotta know where you live first. It’s okay to know now.”

You nodded, you couldn't argue with that. Besides, you two would just be making out in the dark the entire time.

His hand was back on the handle of the back door. Pink pulled it open, looked back at you and smiled for the first time tonight. That warmed your heart, and you were certain it warmed his. He watched you stuff something inside his pocket square as you told him your address. He went back inside, shutting the door on you. You walked back to the front of the restaurant to pay for the bill, and went straight home. 

Mr. Pink shuffles past the chefs in the kitchen, feeling through his suit pocket to pull out his notepad and whatever you stuffed inside just moments ago.

I didn’t even serve them. Is this supposed to be for Mamie Van Doren? He stares down at the dollar bill crumpled in his hand. His frown suddenly transitions to a small but genuine smile. 

Fuck it. Nothing could stop him now. He definitely owes you a date night. He quickly stuffs the tip back in his pocket square, and comes out the sliding door. 

THE END

—

TAGLIST: @locke-writes​ @aryn-the-bearheart​

[engie-ivy]

James refuses to accept the break-up unless either Remus or Sirius will look him in the eyes and tell him he's not in love with the other anymore

“Yes, Moony,” James says in a mocking tone, and Merlin, Sirius could actually strangle him right now. “Tell me you broke up with Padfoot because you weren’t in love with him anymore.”

Remus just gives James an angry look.

Sirius sighs. “Look, Moons. If you’re worried about hurting my feelings, it’s fine. I already know, have known for the last three years. Hearing you say it now isn’t going to kill me.”

From second thoughts to first dates

“Lily’s going to kill me.”

Sirius is sitting on the floor of his flat with his back leaning against the couch. Remus is sitting beside him, and a very drunk James is sitting across from them. Sirius and Remus are pleasantly buzzed, but James is positively wasted. They watched the final of the Quidditch World Cup together, and after James’s favourite team lost, went to the pub where he made use of the opportunity to drown his sorrows.

Now they’re back at Sirius’s flat, sitting on the floor eating grilled cheese. Living alone without house elves has proven to be very beneficial for Sirius’s grilled cheese-making skills.

“Nah,” Remus says, laying his head back against the couch and closing his eyes. “She’ll just let him suffer through his hangover tomorrow and then it’ll be fine.”

“He’s supposed to have lunch with Lily’s sister and her husband tomorrow,” Sirius sighs. “After the disaster of their first meeting, Lily was hoping he’d make a good impression this time.”

Remus opens one eye to look at James, who is currently dipping his grilled cheese in the glass of water Sirius gave him instead of his ketchup. “Yeah, that might be a problem.”

“Don’t care to make a good impression anyways,” James says, chewing on his soaked grilled cheese. “Pompous nitwits the both of them were.”

Remus smirks. “Is that why you went on a rant about the newest broom models and made the husband think you were mocking him?”

James points his grilled cheese at Remus, making wet crumbs fly in his face. “He started it! Puffed up buffoon bragging to me ‘bout his bloody... muggle wagon.”

“Still, you should act your best for Lily’s sake.”

James shakes his head. “No use. Doesn’t matter how I act, they’re determined to hate me, so they’ll hate me. Pointless, trying to impress them, absolutely pointless.”

Remus lays his head back down and Sirius focuses his attention on his own grilled cheese, while James keeps babbling on about how pointless it would be to try and be liked by Petunia and Vernon Dursley.

“Pointless, so very pointless. No point anywhere to found. One of the most pointless things in the world. Almost as pointless as...” James seems to wreck his brain to come up with something in the same category of pointlessness. “Your break-up!” He eventually says, waving his grilled cheese at Remus and Sirius.

Remus responds merely by giving James an exasperated look, and Sirius is proud of himself that, despite the sting in his heart, he manages not to react besides lifting one eyebrow. “Prongs, that still bothers you? It’s been three years.” Another sting in his heart. Has it really been three years already?

“Has it really been three years already?” James asks. “That makes it even more pointless! Three years and nothing’s changed.”

“Nothing’s changed?” Now Sirius can hardly keep the annoyance out of his voice. Three years since he last kissed Remus, three years since he last woke up next to Remus, three years since he last looked into Remus’s eyes and could think to himself ‘he’s mine’, three years since the world turned into a continuous numbness with just memories of happiness, but sure, nothing’s changed.

“Yes,” James says. “You’re still each other’s most important person in your life, you still look at each other like that, and neither one of you has ever dated anyone else in these three years, so what’d you go and break up for?”

Sirius frowns. “Moony dated. That woman from work...”

James makes a dismissive gesture. “She was married, her husband was just abroad.”

“Not like that,” Remus quickly clarifies. “We just hung out as friends a couple of times, nothing happened between us.”

“Moony asked me to keep up the pretence, hoping that it would help you move on.” James lets out a laugh. “What a disaster that was! During that time, a bloke was chatting you up in the pub once, and Moony glared at him so intense I thought he was going to punch him!” James burst into a fit of giggles. “Remember, Moony? You were clutching your glass so hard, it shattered in your hand!”

While James keeps giggling, Remus gives him a look that gives Sirius a pretty good idea what that bloke in the pub must have endured.

James wipes the tears from his eyes. “I’m just saying, you could’ve saved me three years of dealing with jealousy, pining and fits of crying.”

Sirius flushes and grits his teeth. Drunk or not, James has no business letting Remus know how pathetic he’s been these last three years. “Don’t make Moony feel guilty about it, Prongs. He’s not obligated to be with me just for your comfort, so deal with it.”

James rolls his eyes. “I’d deal with it, if you’d have a good reason for the break-up.”

“What more of a reason do you need?” Sirius is now seriously annoyed. “When one person is not in love with the other anymore, there’s nothing else you can do but break-up. That’s just life, and yes, it sucks, but it happens, and it’s no one’s fault.”

James, however, insists on being stubborn. “I would accept that reason. So, let me put it this way: if one of you can look me in the eyes and tell me that he’s not in love with the other anymore, I’ll drop the topic forever and I’ll never bring it up again.”

Sirius pinches the bridge of his nose and decides to just accept his faith. “Moony, just tell him.”

Startled, Remus jerks his head up, from where he was intently studying a loose thread on his jumper. “What? Why?”

Sirius glances at him. “Because I don’t know about you, but I’m not particularly enjoying this conversation. I’d rather get this over with as soon as possible.”

“Yeah, okay,” Remus says. “Why me then?”

“Because that was the exact reason you broke up with me three years ago!”

“We could just wait till he’s sober,” Remus mutters.

“I want to get this over with, so please, just say it,” Sirius says frustrated.

“I just don’t know if we should indulge his drunken demands.”

Sirius now really loses his patience. “Moony, just tell Prongs you broke up with me because you weren’t in love with me anymore!”

“Yes, Moony,” James says in a mocking tone, and Merlin, Sirius could actually strangle him right now. “Tell me you broke up with Padfoot because you weren’t in love with him anymore.”

Remus just gives James an angry look.

Sirius sighs. “Look, Moons. If you’re worried about hurting my feelings, it’s fine. I already know, have known for the last three years. Hearing you say it now isn’t going to kill me.”

Remus opens and closes his mouth, and then stares down at his sleeve again, looking miserable.

“Moony,” Sirius says. “Why can’t you just tell him-”

“Cause Moony’s a terrible liar!” James interjects. “He can’t get the words over his lips, especially not in front of you.”

Sirius shakes his head and can’t quite keep the bitterness out of his voice. “He had no trouble saying it three years ago, so why would it be a problem now?”

Remus’s head snaps up to look at Sirius. “I never said I wasn’t in love with you anymore three years ago!” He flushes bright red and looks away again. “What I said was-”

“I know what you said!” Sirius interrupts. Like he’d ever forget the words that made his entire world come crumbling down. “You said you wanted to end things between us, because you didn’t want to be with me anymore. Why else would you not want to be with me anymore?”

“It’s because of the werewolf thiiiiing!” James shouts, making Remus and Sirius flinch.

“What?” Sirius asks, confused. “No, that can’t be. It can’t be because of the werewolf thing. I’ve never once made an issue of that.”

“That was exactly the problem!” Remus snaps. “You acting like it was nothing. You didn’t understand how much it would affect you, how much it would affect your whole life. You didn’t comprehend-”

“I comprehended just fine!” Sirius says, raising his voice in anger. “I comprehended all of it! I comprehended that we’d never have much money, as you’ll never be able to get a steady, decent job, I comprehended that we’d never be able to live in one place for too long, as eventually it’ll raise suspicion, I comprehended that there’d be parts of society we’ll always be left out of, due to prejudice and stigma. I did comprehend, I just didn’t care, and that’s a difference!”

“How?” Remus stares at him in utter disbelief. “How could you not-”

“Because I fucking loved you!” Sirius shouts. “I’d have given up everything for you.”

Remus shakes his head. “Then you must understand how, for that exact same reason, I couldn’t let you do that.”

“That was never your decision to make,” Sirius hisses. “It was mine! And I had decided long ago that it’d be you, no matter what.”

Remus stares at him again, and Sirius can hardly bear to see the emotions in his eyes. Emotions he can’t figure out. For a moment, he thinks Remus will get angry, but then he falls back against the couch and crosses his arms in front of his chest. “You tell him then. Tell him how I screwed everything up, and how you’re completely over me now and couldn’t possibly love me anymore.”

“Merlin, Remus, you’re such an idiot!”

Now Remus glares at him. “You’ve told me on multiple occasions how you’ve gotten over me.”

“Because I thought you had a good reason for breaking up with me!” Sirius replies. “I thought you had a good reason, and I didn’t want to make you feel guilty by letting you know how much of a fucking mess I still am, and how much I fucking miss you every day, even when we’re bloody together!”

“What are you saying?” Remus asks, voice suddenly trembling. “Are you saying that you’re not over me?”

“Are you saying that you didn’t fall out of love with me?”

Remus just stares at Sirius and Sirius just stares at Remus. He has no idea how to proceed, or how to go back. Back to half an hour ago or back to three years ago, he doesn’t even know.

They only come out of their contemplation by a drunken James loudly breaking the silence. “Still haven’t heard any reasooooons!”

Sirius apparates at a safe distance from the Potters’ home and starts dragging James towards his front door.

“Padderfootsie,” James mumbles. “D’you know how many werewolves have families? Of their own? So partners, not parents? I mean, I assume they all have parents, right? Where else would they come from? They don’t just shoot out of the floor.” James starts giggling again. “Can you imagine?”

“Prongs, please, I-”

“Zero!” James exclaims. “None whatsoever! It’s never been done! Too much weirdness about starting families when it comes to “dark creatures”.” He almost sticks Sirius’s eye out at the air quotes he makes around “dark creatures”.

Sirius doesn’t respond, so James continues. “Moony can’t just fall head over heels in love and fully throw himself into it with his whole being, without any doubts, like you and I can. Not with each other, of course. With Remus and Lily. Remus or Lily. Not both. Well both, but you know, one for each. You Remus, me Lily.”

Sirius really wants to get James inside as soon as possible, but James wiggles himself free from his grip to face him, and grabs his shoulders. “I know how much he has hurt you, I know. All I'm saying is, it’s different for Moony, but that doesn’t mean he loves you any less.”

“Merlin, Prongs.” Sirius swallows against a sudden lump in his throat. “I don’t know anymore if I never want you to get this drunk again, or wish that you’d gotten this drunk three years ago.”

Lily slams open the door and stalks into Sirius’s flat.

“Why, good day to you, Lilyflower.”

“Don’t you ‘Lilyflower’ me, Black,” Lily snarls.

Sirius rolls his eyes. “Aren’t you a ray of sunshine this afternoon.”

“Yes,” Lily says sarcastically, while taking a Butterbeer out of the fridge. “Waking up to find your husband knocked out on the couch really does wonders for your mood.”

“Well, you should be thanking me for the fact that he even was on the couch, instead of in a ditch somewhere.”

Lily swallows down a gulp of Butterbeer without breaking eye contact. “I would have preferred the ditch.”

Lily flops down on the couch with her drink and eyes Sirius for a while. “What are you doing?” She asks, after watching him pull on a fancy shirt and fixing his hair in front of the mirror.

“I got a date,” Sirius simply says.

Lily chokes on her next sip. “A...” She coughs a few times. “A date? You haven’t had a date since- in a long time.” She studies Sirius’s face, noting how, despite his efforts to look composed, he’s brimming with excitement. “That’s... That’s good, Pads. I’m happy for you.”

There’s a knock on the door.

Lily, not curious at all, turns around on the couch so she can watch the door as Sirius opens. Her eyes widen, and she can’t help how a small gasp escapes her lips, when she sees Remus Lupin standing there. He’s wearing his best slacks and his nicest jumper, and has even styled his hair. Lily looks with astonishment at the boys nervously staring and smiling at each other, dressed to the nines and well-groomed, like they didn’t eat pizza from the floor of Remus’s flat wearing stained sweatpants after not showering for days just the week before.

“Hi,” Remus says.

“Hi,” Sirius says.

“Hi!” Lily shouts.

Remus jumps, only now realising Lily is in the room. He blushes furiously and runs a hand through his previously well-groomed hair. “Oh, Lils, hi. I didn’t see you there. How are you? Is Prongs still alive?”

“Yes,” Lily replies solemnly. “I’m waiting for him to be sober enough before I kill him.” She gestures with her bottle between the two boys. “So what’s this? Are you two picking things up again?”

“No,” Sirius says hesitantly. “We’re more like... starting over?” A smile appears on his face with such genuine happiness as Lily hasn’t seen on him in... what? Three years? “This is our first date!” He adds.

Lily can’t help but smile back at him, bad mood almost forgotten.

“Well,” Sirius says. “We’ll better get going. There’re some left-over pumpkin pastries in the fridge, and there’s stuff for grilled cheese, but try not to burn anything this time.”

“Right,” Lily says. “You boys have fun then!”

After the door closes behind them, Lily turns around and slides back down on the couch. A huge grin spreads across her face. It’s been a long three years for all of them, but maybe, just maybe, all will be right with the world again.

[radiantroope]

Into the Wild || JJ Maybank

Chapter One: Denial

pairing: jj x reader

mentions: pope, kie, john b, sarah

summary: the pogues are going on their annual camping trip before the fall semester starts. tension between you and jj boils over, walking the fine line between just friends and something more. you wonder if the two of you can make it out of this.

warnings: underage drinking, drug use (marijuana), swearing, smut in future parts

author’s note: this is going to be a multi-part smut series! i love camping and felt compelled to write this. inspired by @storiesbymads and @ptersparkers with their series study sessions. please let me know what you all think of this, feedback is what keeps me going! love you.

masterlist || add yourself to my tag list

It was tradition since you were seventeen. A yearly camping trip with all of the Pogues. You’d travel off Kildare Island and into the wilderness of some random town in North Carolina. The destination every year was never the same. Everyone was twenty now, aside from you, having just turned twenty-one. This gave you the opportunity to buy a surplus of alcohol for the trip instead of scrounging up what you could find when you were underage.

The old Volkswagen bounced along the old country roads as John B pushed it to its limits. You were surprised it even still ran. Under the hood was a mess of duct tape and the fuel gauge wasn’t exactly accurate. The brunette boy had the funds now to get a new vehicle and you wondered why he hadn’t. Maybe it was the fact that the old hunk of junk held so many memories.

Your eyes shot open as John B pulled the van to an abrupt halt, body lurching forward. You huffed and rubbed the back of your neck as it tensed. You scolded your friend, “Jesus, JB. Next time ease up on the breaks.”

The Routledge boy simply scoffed in response and opened his door to climb out. Pope slid the back door open and you clambered out, Kiara and JJ following quickly after. You stretched your arms over your head then bent down to touch your toes, stretching out your aching back.

“Oh God, it’s never felt so good to stand,” JJ practically moaned as he twisted his back and cracked his spine.

“Disgusting,” Kiara muttered while pulling a face, walking around to help Pope and John B untie the camping gear from the top of the van.

Sarah reached into the back of the old car and started to get out everyone’s duffel bags. The blonde had thankfully learned her lesson when they were young when she brought two suit cases on her first trip with them. You teased her about it for the rest of the year and she swore you all were never going to let her live it down.

You attempted to drag the two large coolers to the door, grunting at the strenuous effort it was taking. One of them was full of food and the other of beer and water. JJ stood, leaning against the van puffing on his vape as he watched you with an amused expression. Finally you huffed and turned to the golden haired boy with a glare.

“Are you gonna help me or?” you trailed off, putting your hands on your hips.

He rolled his eyes and tucked his Juul back in his pocket before climbing over the coolers and standing behind them. He helped drop the cooler down on the grass, waiting until you slid it back to help with the other. The two of you dragged the large boxed containers over to where Sarah assembled rocks for the fire.

John B, Pope and Kiara were picking spots for the tents, making sure there was generous space between them for obvious reasons. Kie and Pope would be sharing one tent, Sarah and John B in another — leaving the only non-couple — you and JJ in the other. Said blonde boy walked over to take over setting up your little home for the next week after watching you struggle with the sticks.

“How many times have we been camping and you still can’t pitch a tent?” JJ teased as he skillfully put it together, glancing up at you with a small smirk.

You rolled your eyes and walked over to the drink cooler, pulling out your drink of choice, Mango White Claw. “I’m a small girl with tiny hands, okay. Me and tents don’t get along,” you defended yourself, watching over the others as they also got their tents put up.

“I’ve got a tent you’d get along with,” JJ remarked cockily, shooting you a wink when your head snapped to look at him.

That was the relationship you and JJ had since you were fifteen. Some would call it pining. He made sexual innuendos towards you and used his best worst pickup lines. There was an undeniable sexual tension between the two of you that everyone could feel. Though, you had this unspoken rule that the two of you would never cross the imaginary line between best friends and something more.

When Kie and Pope got together after John B’s disappearance all those years ago, the Pogues nearly fell apart. There was weird tension between the Heyward boy and JJ since the latter had been crushing on her for years — thank God he got over it a year later. Kiara and Pope had an on-off relationship for a while. When they were on, things were great aside from a few arguments here and there. But when they were off, there was a divide, and you all felt as though you had to pick sides and make time to spend with them both separately. When Pope went off to college, it solidified their relationship. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, you supposed.

Seeing the trials and tribulations of Kie and Pope’s relationship made you swear to yourself to never go there with JJ, no matter how badly you wanted to. Little did you know, the Maybank boy shared the same desires. He tried to drown it out with pussy and booze for a long time. He would get a girlfriend who had the same eye color as you or shared your mannerisms, hoping it would help him get over it. Yet it never did and they only lasted a week or two max. JJ had come to accept the fact that it was always going to be you and he would probably never find true happiness. You’d get married and start a family with someone else and he’d be forced to sit on the sidelines and watch. He spent many sleepless nights thinking about it.

“Just finish the damn tent,” you grumbled as you took a sip from your can and walked to Sarah who called for your help collecting firewood.

It was already fairly late in the day so once everything was situated at your campsite, you all decided to save your adventures for tomorrow. The fire was going and camp chairs for the six of you were circled around it. Pope and John B were fully focused on preparing hot dogs. They’d get one finished and hand it off to JJ to bun it and place whatever toppings were wanted on it.

“Y/N, you want anything on your dog?” JJ asked as he bent over the cooler, looking at you through the locks of hair that fell in his face.

“Just ketchup please,” you replied and pulled a Coors out of the cooler behind you.

JJ strutted over with the paper plate and bowed in front of you as he held it out. He gave you a cheeky smile and in a horrible English accent said, “For you, m’lady.”

“Why thank you, kind sir!” you replied in an accent just as bad, taking the plate from his hands carefully. You held up the can of beer and grinned, “And for you.”

If there was a physical embodiment of heart eyes, it was JJ in that moment. He placed a hand over his heart and took the can, rough fingers grazing your own. He bent down and placed a quick kiss to your cheek then walked back towards John B and Pope, but not before calling over his shoulder, “Love you!”

You shook your head and let out a soft laugh, turning your attention to your food. You missed the look Kie and Sarah shared, knowing smiles on their faces. The two looked over at JJ who hadn’t stopped smiling since your minuscule interaction. He looked almost like the same giddy sixteen year old boy they all knew and loved.

A while later, after many more beers and delicious s’mores, everyone headed to bed. Shared good nights were called between everyone as they retreated to their tents. You had already slipped in yours, changing into your pajamas before JJ barged in. By the time he stumbled through the small opening, you were already curled up in your sleeping bag. Your hair was tied up in a messy bun that pressed up against the pillow.

JJ kicked off his boots and pulled his shirt over his head. Your eyes flickered down to his toned abdomen for a moment before you turned over and closed your eyes. Ogling at your best friend would only make sleeping that much harder. You heard him rezip the tent and climb into his own sleeping bag that was only inches from yours. The two of you muttered drunken, sleepy goodnights before drifting off into dreamland.

You jumped awake in the early hours of the morning when the wind blew against the tent. You sighed softly and rested your head back against the pillow, breathing deeply to steady your rapidly beating heart. You reached for your phone and the time read 4:13 AM. You’d all sauntered to bed around one meaning you got roughly three hours of sleep. It was usually like that the first few nights of camping for you. The unease of sleeping vulnerably in the wilderness made you sleep extra lightly.

You sat up and glanced over at JJ whose face was barely illuminated by the moonlight shining through the mesh. His lips were parted slightly as soft snores and heavy breaths left his mouth. You cracked a smile seeing him like that, suddenly thankful he wasn’t a loud snorer like John B who you could hear from across your campground. You wondered how Sarah could stand sleeping next to someone like that.

As silently as you could, you crawled forward and slipped on your old Vans then unzipped the tent and slipped out. You closed it back and paused for a second to make sure you didn’t wake JJ. When you didn’t hear any rustling, you made your way over to the fire, that was now burnt branches and gray ash. You pulled the coolers next to each other longways then laid down on top of them.

One thing you cherished about the camping trips was the stargazing you were able to do. You couldn’t get a view like that back home, even in The Cut. The view was indescribable. You could see the satellites that orbited around the Earth, floating slowly through the atmosphere. You could lay there for hours, lost in thought as you gazed into the universe.

JJ awoke a short time later, almost as if he could sense you were no longer next to him. He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm and reached his free hand out to feel for your warm body. He was met with the cold material of your sleeping bag. He was still disoriented as he sat up and squinted into the dark tent, searching for his shoes to see where you’d gone off to.

The sound of JJ’s footsteps nearing where you laid startled you, not hearing your tent unzip or the still slightly drunk boy stumble out. His eyes were glazed over and he had a dazed look on his face as he wandered over, shirtless and in the same shorts he fell asleep in. The dirty black boots scuffed against the Earth with each of his heavy steps.

“What’re you doin’?” his groggy voice asked, an octave or two deeper than usual.

“Woke up ‘n couldn’t go back to sleep,” you responded, sitting up when he patted your thigh. You straddled the cooler and JJ did the same, right in front of you. His knees brushed against yours as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair.

You watched as his hooded eyes glanced around the campsite before falling on you. You had tilted your head back to look at the stars again. The moonlight illuminated your face in a way that mesmerized him. He could see the stars reflecting in your eyes, eyelashes brushing flawless cheeks with each slow blink.

JJ took the opportunity to pull you closer, hands going under your knees and pulling until your legs were draped over his own. You let out a gasp at the sudden movement. You barely had time to react as he wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face in the crook of your neck. His tangled waves tickled your jaw as it blew in the breeze. You smiled slightly and brought one hand up to the back of head, fingers gently combing through his soft locks at the base of his neck.

Goosebumps rose over his tanned back as the fingers of your other hand gently trailed up and down his bicep. He resisted the urge to place kisses on your neck, knowing he’d be shot down and quite liked the current position you were in. Which wasn’t unusual for the two of you. JJ was touch starved and found every chance he could to hug on you or cuddle you. You never complained, liking the feeling of his warm body securing you in an embrace. You’d never met someone who made you feel as safe as JJ did when they held you.

“You falling asleep on me, Maybank?” you whispered teasingly at the feeling of his breath evening out against your collarbone.

You received a hum in response, his nose brushing your throat as he shifted his head.

“Let’s go back to bed,” you suggested, leaning back to get a look at the boy’s face.

JJ pulled himself back to sit upright, jutting his perfectly pink bottom lip out in a pout. He shook his head and his hands slid down to your thighs to squeeze them slightly. You were made painfully aware of the skimpy sleep shorts you were wearing and a heat rose to your face. You practically lived in a bikini but something about JJ seeing you like this made you shy.

“I wanna stay here with you,” he muttered, cerulean eyes flickering between your own.

Maybe it was the lack of sleep or the alcohol still coursing through your veins, but in that moment you were finding it hard to ignore how badly you wanted to feel his lips against yours. Your close proximity allowed you to admire every feature on JJ’s face. From the scar above his left eyebrow from his father to the tiny freckles most people never noticed on his cheeks. You threw everything out the window.

The hand you had on JJ’s bicep slid up past his shoulder and onto the side of his neck, thumb stroking the stubble lining his jaw. He squeezed your thighs again in response. His heart was hammering in his chest at the idea of what was coming. He would never initiate it though, leaving the ball in your court. His intense gaze never left yours until your eyes drifted down to his lips and up again.

The corners of JJ’s lips twitched up as he watched your tongue glide across your bottom lip. He barely registered that you were leaning in until he felt your breath against his chin. He sat there, still as a statue as your plump lips brushed against his own. He half expected you to pull away and come up with some way to brush off what was happening, though he was pleasantly surprised when you instead locked your lips on his.

JJ kissed you back, of course, he’d be an idiot not to. One of your hands found purchase in the hair at the back of his head while the other gripped his waist. Your head tilted, intensifying the kiss as your lips worked in synchronized motions. One of his large hands left your thigh and cupped the back of your neck, applying gentle pressure to deepen the kiss.

The both of you were on cloud nine, riding a high you just couldn’t achieve through drugs and alcohol. It was something the shared kisses between you always did. This wasn’t the first time this had happened. Throughout the years the two of you had shared many kisses, some drunken spur of the moment kisses, others completely sober ones that you just couldn’t resist. You tried to keep yourself from doing it, knowing you were only hurting him in the long run and giving him a sense of false hope. Tonight he just looked so irresistible you had to seize the opportunity.

Your tongue swiped against his bottom lip, feeling his grip on your neck tighten. He allowed your tongue to slip into his mouth, mingling with his own. His other hand left your thigh and pressed against your lower back. He pulled you forward until your chests were pressed together and you were seated on his lap. His sharp teeth pulled at your bottom lip, quickly soothing the pink flesh with his tongue.

JJ’s lips left yours, trailing kisses down your jaw and onto your neck under your ear. You were in a daze. Your fingers gripped his hair and felt along his chest as a sigh left your lips. His hands wandered over the tank top on your back, continuing to leave wet, open mouthed kisses on your skin.

As you felt him pull the strap of your tank top down, lips beginning to suck at the bare skin of your shoulder, you were brought back to Earth. Your breathing picked up and gripped his shoulders to push him back, muttering, “J.. JJ, stop.”

The Maybank boy pulled away quickly, hands moving to hold your wrists as you now cupped his face. He stared at you and watched as many different emotions flickered in your eyes — none of which he could pinpoint. Here we go again. She’s gonna shut me down and pretend this never happened, he couldn’t help but think to himself. His chest tightened as he prepared for the softened blow you were about to give him.

You glanced behind to the other tents and both of you heard John B stop snoring for a solid thirty seconds before it started again. You looked back up at JJ felt your heart leap at the soft smile he gave you, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. How could you sit there and ignore the butterflies fluttering in your stomach after that kiss? How could you keep lying to yourself and say you didn’t want him? You couldn’t.

“Not here, not like this,” you murmured, leaning forward and resting your forehead against JJ’s.

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and let his eyes flutter shut. He nodded the tiniest bit against your head and placed a small kiss on your nose. His heart rate picked up at the fact that you hadn’t totally fucked him off. He thought maybe, just maybe, you were finally coming around and sharing the same feelings he did.

But you thought JJ just wanted to fool around with you, a fun and risky friends with benefits thing. You had no idea he was painfully in love with you. And shit was about to get complicated.

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[something-fanfiction-ie]

Out of the Lion’s Den

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of rape (not against the reader), attempted rape and assault (against the reader) angst, cursing, insults, the usual super dramatic shit you see in the taken down of an unsub

A/N: Wowie wow wow wow, so this is kinda long. And I know I said I was gonna post it like two days ago, HOWEVER! In my defense, I started writing it and then about halfway through I accidentally closed tumblr so it deleted everything I had. So I went to bed defeated. But it’s here now, that’s the important thing, right? Remember to like, comment, reblog, send me asks, and just be your usual amazing selves and give me the attention that my parents never gave me as the oldest of eight. As always, THANK YOU FOR SUPPORTING ME AND I APPRECIATE YOU GUYS SO MUCH!!

___

[ Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four ]

December 1998

It felt good to be back home in Georgia. The wind whipped at the trees outside of the diner you and you best friend were currently catching up at. The waitress, Flora, knows you by name and sets your usual in front of you with a ruffle of your hair and a couple of southern endearments.

“Tell me everything.” Madalyn says, reaching across the table for the ketchup that was placed on your side of the booth. You swat at her hand when she makes a grab for one of your fries. Her laugh is loud and feels like home, making you smile into your drink in a way you haven’t smiled all semester.

“I’d like to preface this conversation by saying that I feel like this would be a much cooler experience if I were the same age as everyone else.” You point out, brushing your growing bangs away from your eyes with an annoyed swat. Her eyes soften with sympathy, swirling a fry into the ketchup tucked into a safe space on her plate. She doesn’t say anything though, knowing that you have more to say.

“The classes are awesome. The campus is beautiful. I learn something new all the time, which was never happening when I was going to school here,” you pause long enough to glance around the room. It’s packed with all kinds of people, from old men clustered at the counter sipping on coffees to construction workers munching on hamburgers during their break, even big families squished into booths and tables for a nice Sunday family lunch.

“But?” You shrug in response, knowing that Madalyn will be able to read you like an open book if you meet her eyes. Across the table, the amateur profiler squints her dark eyes at you with suspicion.

“Everyone just kinda avoids me. The guys are cute, but they’re all nineteen and twenty. Most of the things to do on campus, you have to be eighteen for, so I mostly just spend my time at the library or at Aunt May’s doing homework.” At this, Madalyn stops eating, raising her eyebrows with a cheeky grin.

“I bet your grades are super rad,” You resist the urge to throw a French fry in her face after what she says next. “And besides, I’m the only friend you need in your life.”

“Actually, I have made a kind of friend?” Flora is over before you can finish the drink in your cup, filling the glass with a dark, blue pitcher. When you thank her, she reaches out to pat your cheek, mumbling something about missing you while you were gone.

“Should I be jealous? Is she pretty? She may be a big sister type, but I’m your soulmate.” You laugh into your sandwich having to cover your mouth when you take a bite and the laughter doesn’t go away.

Madalyn has been your best friend for four years, although time seems to have no meaning in your relationship because nobody would doubt it if you told them you’d known her since birth. While most kids in your age group had grown up thinking you were odd, Madalyn had decided that you were just interesting. That interest had turned into a friendship that would span years and miles more than many friendships do.

While the things you both enjoyed, like Leonardo DiCaprio and Ben Affleck, certainly brought you together, it was your differences that made you click like the pieces of a puzzle. Only true friends can debate on opposite sides of an argument and then end the night eating popcorn while watching Space Jam in the living room.

“His name is Harvey.” When Madalyn’s eyebrows go up this time, it is from surprise. You’ve never been one to socialize with anyone of the opposite gender, much less become ‘kinda friends’ with them. Plus, as a young lady of very womanly curves, she’s quite aware of the way some guys cross the line on a regular basis.

“(Y/N)-” You wave your hand in the air, once again pushing at the bangs that keep falling in your face. You should have never cut them in the first place, and you never would have if you realized what a hassle they would be when you started growing them out.

“I don’t like him like that. He’s just a really nice guy, helps me with homework and walks me to a class or two. We’ve never even met up outside of school.” Her eyes are still narrowed, a stray dark wave falling from the hair comb that pins the top half of her hair away from her face.

Eventually, she changes the subject. Trusting that you are smart enough to know when things have gotten out of hand and how to take care of it.

“So why are you growing your bangs out? I thought you liked them. Didn’t you say they make you look more grown up?” You unstick your thighs from the leather booth seat, pinning her with a look that she knows all too well.

“Now that’s a crazy story.” She also makes herself comfortable in her seat, preparing herself for a story. It’s probably a good thing you’re a phenomenal story teller, or else she would have gotten tired of all the stories you tell really quickly.

“So last month a girl comes forward and reports that she was cornered by a man she didn’t know on her way from the library back to her dorm. He held her at gun point and rapes her. It got kinda big, because she was rallying a group of men and women to escort girls around campus. And, I mean, I understand the unease she must feel, and I was sympathetic, but I was kind of confused why there was so much uproar over one rape.”

Having finished your own fries, you reach across the table and steal one from your outraged best friend. Before she can grab it back, you’ve shoved it into your mouth.

“Until a second girl comes forward and says that she reported the same thing happening to her a month ago. The campus, meanwhile, is doing nothing about it. No increased security, no curfew, not even acknowledged them.”

“For two girls?”

“For five,” The pause you take is natural, scooting the bottom of your cup across the tabletop so you could sip from the straw without picking the cup up, but it reads as dramatic effect. “And that’s not even the craziest part.”

One dark eyebrow raised into her hairline, waiting for you to continue the story and also answer the question.

“Every victim was a freshman, so they’re a little on the younger side, they all had the same hair color and style, all had the same body type, all were the same height, all had the same eye color.” This time you do pause for dramatic effect, using the silence to build the tension.

“And all of them look exactly like me. Bangs and all.”

Madalyn leans forward a little, suddenly very worried about you going back next month. As she hurriedly tries to make sure you are taking the necessary precautions during a scary time like this, Flora floats around the diner, stopping to fill up the cup of a single man just behind your booth. All he has is black coffee, a textbook of some kind is splayed open across the table but he doesn’t seem to be too interested in it. Instead, he leans back in his seat, his ears listening to your every word.

“So in summary, I’m growing out my bangs because that’s obviously apart of this dude’s type.” Madalyn doesn’t protest anymore when you reach for another fry on her plate.

“Stop looking at me like that. I’m going to be fine. I’ll even color my hair if you’re so worried.” And the conversation continues, your best friend overly worried about you and your life as a fifteen year old college student, and you masking your fear for appearances sake. Harvey, however, finishes his coffee and asks for the bill.

He thought you were smarter than that. He thought you were smart enough to connect the dots and at least notice that he’d done all of it for you. That you were his everything. Apparently that was wrong. One day you’ll figure it out, of that he is certain.

For now though, you don’t even notices when he passes your table to get to the door.

Present Day

Spencer steps away from the car door, the cool wind hitting his cheeks and tousling his hair. It helps the dizziness in his head, and the nausea in his stomach, but it doesn’t help the sharp pain in his heart. His brain is swimming in all of the information, putting the pieces of the crime scene together like it was a puzzle.

“He left her in the driver’s seat after stabbing her from the backseat, walking around the front before knocking her out and carrying her to his own vehicle.” JJ looks back at the car, peering around crime scene analysts as they hurry about collecting evidence.

“She tried to leave, but her tires spun in the mud.” Rossi notes, nodding to the mud splatter along the sides of your car and the tiny graves each tire has dug into the ground for itself.

“There’s blood in the back.” Spencer finally speaks, looking away from the backseat window and back to his two partners. All eyes flick to the back seat where there is indeed two drops of blood on the floor and a smear of it on the headrest of the passenger seat.

“If he’s in any system then we’ll catch him.” Rossi said, nodding for the techs to collect what they could from the back. Spencer turns back to the car, well aware that there wasn’t anything else here for them the find that would lend them any information as to your whereabouts.

“In a system or not, I will hunt him to the ends of the earth before I let him get away with this.”

Back at the BAU, Prentiss makes calls to your mother and your best friend, Madalyn. Both answer on the first ring, and both are all the more willing to answer any questions that may assist the team in finding the man who had taken you.

“Is there anyone you remember (Y/N) mentioning that maybe stood out to you or her as creepy and stalkerish?” Your mother doesn’t recall anyone, having been focused on so many different cases during your childhood and having been so distant from you since you decided to not become a detective.

Madalyn, however, is quick to answer with a name Prentiss recalls crossing off the list of persons of interest.

“Harvey Morgenstein. They were friends in college, and although it weirded me out because he was a lot older than her at the time, he seemed harmless and I trusted (Y/N). But then he became her agent’s personal assistant all coincidentally and it just seemed too fishy to me.” Prentiss writes the name down, sliding it across the table with a pointed look at Garcia.

As quick as lightning, Harvey’s life history is pulled up between computer screens for both women to delve into.

Harvey is a short man with a wide build that, in earlier pictures, shows him to be more soft than muscly. His hair is dirty blonde but his eyes are two dark circles of coal that seem to pierce through the screen and into the souls of both Penelope and Emily.

“He’s totally not creepy looking.” Garcia remarks sarcastically, eyes sweeping across the information given to her the way Reid’s eyes might fly up and down the pages of a book or a case file.

“Tell me about it.” Emily replies, leaning into the seat designated for those on the team who so wished to give Penelope a visit while remaining off their feet.

“Harvey is a pretty normal guy for the most part. Single child of a Harvey and Lucille Morgenstein. Graduated from Georgetown in 2000 with a major in computer technology, minor in criminology.”

“The same graduating class as (Y/N).” Prentiss notes, her eyes just behind Garcia’s as articles and documents fly around the computer. Where some people talked with their hands, Garcia talked with her screens. The constant tap-tap-tapping of rings and fingers against the keyboard was like the audible churnining of cogs in her brain.

“Yeah, he spent some time as an IT guy at Georgetown before he got a job as a personal assistant. The only spot on his squeaky clean record that I can find is that he was a person of interest in a few rape cases involving some girls on campus back in the late 90’s, but he had alibis for every single one so they let him walk.” The pictures of every victim pop up across the screen in the form of a newspaper article talking about the serial rappings.

Gasps come from both their mouths as the dots connect.

“Call Reid and the others, and then call the agent. I think I may know what is going on.”

A couple of hours later and the pieces are all starting to come together.

Harvey had been the serial rapist from the 90s, attacking women who looked like you out of anger over not having you for himself, and pure obsession. After graduation, he tried to move on by distancing himself from you, but when his mother was diagnosed with cancer he fell back into his old stalkerish ways.

He followed your every move through your agent, who was the only person you spoke to the most outside of your mom and Madalyn.

After a little digging into unsolved rape cases in the area, it was obvious from the victimology and an oddly specific M.O. where he bit each of his victims on the neck, that he had also fallen back into his perverted rapist ways.

Harvey might have been content to stay like that, an obvious self esteem issue keeping him from ever approaching you directly for a date, until a month ago. Not even two days after the death of his sick mother, you and Spencer went on your first date outside of the bookstore. A double trigger.

In a sick and twisted display of love, Harvey started killing people the way you’d written deaths in your books. But with every death you continued to ignore him and see Spencer.

“Eventually it all became too much for him to handle and he snapped, kidnapping (Y/N) and calling to taunt Reid over his victory.” Hotch passed a hand over his face. The sirens blared loudly as they raced for Harvey’s house just outside of Quantico.

“This guy has been stalking her for a ridiculous amount of time.” Morgan commented with a shudder, sympathy and guilt from the earlier interrogation eating at him as the black SUV careens around a corner.

When they bust through his door, clearing each room and finding a creepy amount of pictures and papers about you, they realize that he has taken you somewhere else. And who do you call when you’re at a dead end and you need information?

“You’ve reached Penelope Garcia in the FBI’s Office of Supreme Genius.”

___

Breaking a chair that is nailed to the floor is a lot harder than it sounds, and it already sounds kinda hard.

There was a lot of kicking and hitting and some bruises were definitely starting to form, but the amount of blood coming from your leg was scary. The chances that the knife had nicked your femoral artery were relatively slim, especially given how long you’ve been bleeding, but you couldn’t help but waver on the side of caution.

After several failed attempts of throwing your body into the wood and kicking and hitting and pulling and crying and then repeating the cycle, you managed to pop a leg off. While the base of the leg stayed nailed to the floor, you spent the rest of your time trying to tear the chair from the rest of the legs, when you did you threw the top half against the concrete wall.

Taking two spindles from the back, you quickly scurry back to the mattress and wait for him to return. It’s only a matter of time before he decides to come back down here to taunt you or try something.

In your short time in what Harvey has so lovingly deemed ‘your room,’ you have come to a couple conclusions in an attempt to distract yourself from the excruciating pain in your thigh.

One being that this is not Harvey’s home. Of that you’re one hundred percent certain. Upstairs, you can hear the sound of two sets of feet thudding around. You can only assume this is his childhood home. You remember that his mother had died about a month ago, causing him to resign from his position as your agent’s personal assistant. She had mentioned to you that he planned to help his father as much as he could before he too passed away.

The second being that you were probably going to loose your leg. Any move this way or that sends a thousand knives through every nerve in your body. Your throat is scratchy and sore from how long you’ve been yelling, both in trying to get someone’s attention and in pain.

The light coming from the small window next to the ceiling hasn’t even begun to wane with the falling sun when the door opens again. The chain around your uninjured leg clatters when you pull your knee up to your chest. You don’t even attempt to move the other leg.

Harvey appears in the opening, a tray of food balances in his hands as he shuts the door behind him.

“Find some weapons?” He asks casually, setting the tray beside the lamp as he sinks to his knees on the mattress. Your knuckles are white around each spindle, the inside of your mouth is sensitive to the touch from how much nervous chewing you’ve been doing.

“Get away from me, or I’ll kill you.” You seethe, fighting through the swimming in your head that hasn’t gone away since you woke up here. He gives you a look like you’re a misbehaving child, but it’s soon replaced with anger when you slap him across the face with one of your weapons.

You were hoping the attack would break skin, but all it does is turns the skin over his cheekbone dark red.

Faster than you can blink, he pins both your wrists with one of his hands above your head on the mattress, using the other hand to deftly pluck each spindle from your grip.

“I’ve done so much for you. I’ve given you a room, and a career, and so much more, and yet you attack me.” The wooden spindles hit the wall next to the door, his body lowers to yours in a way you know means more trouble.

“You’re a creep and a perv and I don’t want you to touch me! You’ve done nothing for me. Only for yourself.” In a way that would make any young boy proud to know you, you collect all the spit and bile in your mouth before shooting it into his face. Part of it hits him in the eye, causing him to roar in outrage.

He lets you go, giving you a brief moment of relief, but he only wipes away the loogey before rocking his hand back hard enough to crack against the side of your face. In your moment of disorientation, he flips you to your stomach and undoes the cuff from around your leg. The chain rings against the ground when he tosses it to the side.

His knee went to your back, his hands went to your waist, and the moment you manage to come back to yourself, your fingers clawed at whatever flesh you could find near you. You screamed and flailed as much as you could, the shooting pain of your leg barely noticeable when your body was in panic mode.

All you can think as that this is the kind of thing you read about. People don’t actually get kidnapped and rapped by people they knew in college. But you know that isn’t true either. You are the daughter of a detective, things like this were apart of your everyday life growing up. Just never as personal as you or a friend being the victim. For some reason that makes you fight harder, a sickly feelings creeping into your throat when you felt his fingers brush under the hem of your underwear.

Then a sound pulled you from your hysteria, the door fell to the ground and a swarm of FBI Agents descended upon the concrete basement you still refused to call ‘your room.’ Spencer was the last of them to enter, but the unadulterated fury in his eyes was enough to tell you that was not a decision on his part.

To you, and maybe even everyone else in the room who managed to look at him for longer than a millisecond, he looked like an avenging angel. Every chocolate caramel curl perfectly framed his face, which looked like it was carved out of stone. His jaw was so tense you could slice your finger if your ran it along the edge. The revolver in his hands was unwavering, only growing in steadiness when he caught compromising position you were in.

The sob that came out of your throat was one of relief. Harvey lifted you from the mattress, reaching into his pocket to pull out that damned pocket knife. He held you so close to his chest that it made your skin crawl.

“Harvey Morgensten, drop the weapon.” Morgan’s voice boomed around the room. Harvey held you with one arm tensed around the front of your shoulders and the other holding a knife to your neck.

“She’s mine! You weren’t supposed to be able to find us!” He screamed, you winced away from the shrilling pitch that scraped against the inside of your ear. It caused him to push the knife into the skin over your exposed collarbone, blood beading around the the metal tip. Your heart was hammering beneath your ribs, your hands flexing at your sides, your mind racing for a way to get out of this situation.

Spencer’s lip went up in a snarl, you half expected him to let a growl tear through his chest as if he was a lion standing against an enemy. The hairs on the back of your neck stood to attention when he took a hesitant step forward, his eyes softening for just a fraction of a second when he looks down at you.

In that fraction of a second all of his defenses fall and you can see all the grief and panic in the bags under his eyes and the raw skin of his bottom lip.

“She was never yours, Harvey.” Spencer says, wincing when Harvey responds by yanking you even closer than before. His breath is hot on your neck, his lips so close that they brush against the skin on the back of your shoulder when he speaks.

“She was never yours, Dr. Reid. She is mine, she always will be.” You cry out in surprise, your fingers coming up to scratch at the arm around your shoulders when a pair of teeth sink into the crook of your neck as if you were the victim of a vampire or something equally supernatural and territorial.

The action has the desired effect on every agent watching, especially Reid, who stumbles forward before Hotch grabs him by the back of his arm. They don’t have a shot, not without hurting you. That much you can tell just from the look they share. It doesn’t take a genius to look around and see that the end of every gun in the room is pierced right through you.

It makes you angry. You grind the back of your teeth together when a dark chuckles echoes from behind you. In your mind’s eye, you see it all happening the way you see a scene from a book playing before you like a movie.

Reaching up with one hand, you grab the onto the arm holding the knife. With the pad of your thumb, you shove every bit of strength you have into the soft skin at the inside of his wrist. At the same time, you pull your head forward before sending it reeling back onto his already broken nose. This time, you can feel the crunch of bones as your skull makes contact with his face.

Simultaneously, he drops the knife to the floor with a cry and drops his arms to reach for his gushing nose. Adrenaline pumping through your veins, you manage the couple of steps forward into Spencer’s arms. In a quick and graceful display of surprising strength, he carries you back into his embrace and spins around to shield you from the monster staggering back toward you.

Prentiss is quick to catch him in his blind pursuit for you, twisting both of his arms back without an ounce of sympathy for his pain. The jingle of handcuffs precede the finality of each click around his wrists.

“Everything I did, I did for you! I made your book come to life, I ruined the reputation of those girls, I did it all for you.” Harvey struggles against the restraints, twisting his body any way that he can to get a glimpse of you curled into Spencer’s chest.

You brain is caught between reality and a distant world, everything around you feels like make believe. Only the feeling of Spencer’s sweater curled into your fingers and his hand on the back of your head feels real. Harvey’s voice is like a recording being played three blocks away, still loud enough to hear but not close enough to focus on. He’s hissing threats and insults at Spencer’s back, that psycho-something in him finally snapping under the circumstances.

Somebody is yelling for a medic and there, just underneath it all, is the sound of someone wailing in such a way that words could never accurately describe the intense pain and grief being carried on every screaming sob. As the events from the last twelve hours come rushing back to you, reality takes the reins of your mind.

It’s you that’s crying like that. That desperate, broken sound is coming from your heaving chest. When your leg finally gives out from under you, the pain too much for your body to bare, he was already there holding you.

The screams fade into small shattered sobs just in time for medics to descend the stairs. Their hands are voices are everywhere, medical jargon flying over your head as they pry your hands from Spencer’s sweater. You pull back from every touch, the thoughts in your brain flying too fast for you to keep up.

It takes them a while to get you to the ambulance, but when they do you start to panic.

“Spencer?!” You cry out, unable to move your head too much due to the neck brace and head strap holding you down. It takes only a second for him to come into view, his eyes glassy and his smile watery. His hand slips into yours before they raise you up to the ambulance, your hand is icy to the touch.

The paramedics had mentioned a possible concussion, excessive blood loss, and signs of acute compartment syndrome. The fact that you had remained conscious and walking this long was a testament to your strong will and fighting spirit.

“Don’t leave me.” You whispered, the black around the edges of your vision creeping in despite how hard you fought it. Spencer almost winced from how hard you tightened the grip on his fingers. His mouth moved, but you never heard the response, your mind fading quickly with every second.

“Don’t leave.”

The sound of a heart monitor steadily beeping was what woke you up. Groaning from all the aches and pains that surged up with consciousness, your eyes fluttered open before squinting into the bright hospital lights.

Your mother was the first thing that popped into your field of vision. The last time she had looked at you with such worry, you’d been in the ER after flipping your car into a ditch. In your defense, it was dark and, as a young driver, you over corrected when you hit a patch of standing water.

“Mama?” You pushed up on the bed, the pillow behind your head falling to the space between your lower back and the mattress. Your mom was quick to pick it up and fluff it back behind your head. She must really be concerned. Had they found cancer while you were out or something?

“Oh my goodness, (Y/N), you had me so worried.” Gingerly, you pressed the heel of your hand to the bandage that stuck to your hair and the corner of your head. Brushing the butterfly stitches that went across the cut on your cheek, you barely had time to react before she pulled you into a breath-stealing hug.

The wound on your neck smarted with the movement and you hissed in pain. Your mom pulled back, squishing your cheeks between her hands as tears began to collect on her lower lash line. Your mother was not the type to cry, about really anything, as far as you knew of. So to see her tearing up like this only added to the confusion and shock you were already feeling.

“Never join law enforcement. I thought I wanted you to, but I can’t deal with this kidnapping and near-death nonsense. I’m getting too old for it.” She teased tenderly, releasing your face from the death grip of love to wipe away the tears before they fell down her cheeks.

“When did you get here?” You asked, taking note of all the wires and tubes that connected to your body via IVs and sticky pads. A glance down at your leg eased the fear that you might have sustained a leg wound that would take your leg from you. You didn’t move it for fear of the pain you could already feel throbbing to the beat of your heart.

The bed dipped under your mother’s weight as she sat beside you, gathering one of your hands into both of hers. Scars littered the knuckles that had wiped away your tears and taught you to throw punches.

“I only got here about an hour ago, but you’ve had round the clock protection from the FBI so no need to get panicky. I can see that look creeping into your eyes.” Her own eyes squint a little, those highly observant detective skills kicking in. She’s always been able to read you like an open book, making you wonder if she would have been good at profiling.

Of course she would have, your mother was good at everything she set her mind to.

“FBI?” You’re full of so many questions, but they all fall away when you mom shifts out of your line of sight to reveal the sleeping agent tucked away into the corner of the room.

Spencer is curled onto a hospital chair that is placed into a corner beside the window looking out over the parking lot. His back is leaned against the wall, one shoulder leaned against the back of the chair. One long leg is curled into the seat and the other is stretched out next to the chair. From across the room, you can see the shadows his eyelashes cast across his cheekbones in slumber. Oddly enough, your first thought is of Sleeping Beauty.

The sight is enough to make your heart feel like it’s squeezing around a ball of broken glass. Before your mother can read too much into the mixture of emotions that, surely, skew your features, you look away.

“He’s been here since they brought you in. I met his team, they’re a fine group of agents. You didn’t tell me you were friends with anyone in the FBI.” Before she can say anything else, you clear your throat. Putting one hand, a little dramatically, to your chest you give your mother a look you haven’t used since you were a kid trying to stay home from school.

“Mama, I’m a little hungry. Can you get me something to eat?” It works like a charm. You’ve never seen your mother jump so quickly before, she races out the door like a woman on a mission. It warms your aching heart.

“Maybe you should have tried acting.” Spencer’s voice is groggy with sleep as he sits up and stretches into awareness.

“How long have you been awake?” He meets your gaze, his expression soft and earth-shaking. When you imagined seeing Spencer wake up first thing in the morning, it was never in a hospital room while feelings of betrayal and confusion stabbed into your chest.

“Just long enough to hear your mom talk about my team. She’s a nice lady.” He doesn’t move from the chair, sensing the tension in the room the way only a profiler can. He’s afraid that if he gets up, you’ll make him leave. He doesn’t need to know that he’s right.

“How long have I been out?” You’re asking every question except the one you’ve been dying to ask.

“A day. You had a pretty bad concussion and acute compartment syndrome in your leg. They weren’t sure you were going to be able to retain control of the muscle given how long you were kept hostage with it untreated, but I know you’re too stubborn to let that happen.” The silence that follows is stifling, your eyes interlocked in a battle of wills.

Was this the same man that had accused you of being a serial killer?

You’re the first to look away, fidgeting with a fray string from the blanket thrown over your legs.

“I think we need some time apart.”

“I’m so incredibly sorry.” You both speak at the same time, but your words drain the blood from Spencer’s face when they finally register. He had hoped that, by some miracle, you would forgive him of the unforgivable sin he had committed against you in the name of justice. He understood why you didn’t.

“I just,” The threads of the blanket you recognize from your childhood bedroom bump underneath your fingers when you smooth your hand over it, “I want to forgive you. But all I keep thinking is that none of this would have happened to me if you had used all those brains in your head instead of all the insecurities in you heart.”

It’s like a slap across the face, and yet Spencer can’t help but feel like he deserves it. Even still, none of it hurts as much as the crack in your voice and the tears that you try so desperately to blink away before he can see them.

It isn’t often that Spencer Reid is rendered speechless, but the guilt and heartache have stolen all the words of every language and all the breath from the air right out of his mouth.

“It’s still so fresh in my mind, I think if we distance ourselves then we’ll be able to come back to something rather than trying to scramble to bridge together the chasm that has formed between us.”

He wants to argue, everything in him screams that he needs to fight for you, but the look in your eyes stops him. If you need space, then space is what he will give you. Spencer would do anything to make this right. He wishes he had the intelligence and technology to build a time machine and go back to two mornings ago.

“I understand,” he says solemnly, trying to talk around the hurt in his chest that is growing like a tumor. “But I promised I wouldn’t leave you. I’ll give you space, but I’m only giving you the space of the wall between this room and the hallway.”

And then he’s gone, staying true to his word and sinking to the floor outside your room. When you mother comes back, holding a collection of jellos and cookies and granola bars from the hospital cafeteria, her steps falter at the sight of the young doctor outside your door.

Inside you’re curled into yourself, taking very deliberate breaths into the cotton stuffed pillow you have buried into your chest. You half expect your heart monitor to be screaming for the nurses, but despite a small quickening in the constant beeps, it gives away none of your heartbreak.

“(Y/N)?” You look up, meeting your mothers eyes with tear stained cheeks. Your head is going to be throbbing later, but for now you’re only focused on the sharp pains shooting through your ribs and clouding every other pain in your body.

Between one gasp of air and the next, your mother drops all the foods to the chair vacated by Spencer before rushing to pull you into her arms.

“Can you die from a broken heart?” You whimper, feeling like a small child as you bury your head into her chest. She smells like home, running her hand over the back of your head with gentle shushing sounds.

Outside, Spencer wipes at his own tears, a silent statue of sadness protecting you from everything but himself.

[nightshade-minho]

-Blue Book- (6)

Warnings: suggestiveness, future smut

Word Count: 2.4k

Chan knows what happiness is. He's felt it before in mild amounts- like the time when he was 7 and his dad bought him that toy truck he'd been wanting, or when he ate his favorite food.

As the years went by though, he found it harder and harder to feel even an ounce of that elusive emotion. It wasn't like he was a particularly sad person, either. He was just...existing.

Which is why he found you so intriguing. He watched as you rambled away between sips of your boba, accentuating your words with wild gestures. It was cute, how passionate you were about art and how happy you got when you talked about it. Chan loved making his music too-it was a welcome distraction from his hectic life. He never found himself feeling this level of enthusiasm, though.

"And yeah. That's why I think Bernini is objectively better than Michelangelo."

He smiled, nodding, though he hadn’t really paid attention to what you had been rambling about. God, he couldn't help but be fascinated by you.

This was bad. He couldn't lie to himself anymore- he was definitely starting to feel things for you that went beyond mere intrigue. It was easy to pretend he didn't like you when you weren't around...But when you were right in front of him, Chan found himself hating the way he wanted to spend more and more time with you. 

Suddenly, the door to the cafe opened. You looked up when you heard the tinkling bells, a frown growing on your face as you watched Minho walk in with Miyoung right behind him. 

You sat up immediately, glancing at your watch and shooting a quick, apologetic smile to Chan. “Uh, I just remembered I have somewhere to be, so-”

Too late. Minho smirked as he walked over to your table.

“Chan, thought you’d be here. Can we talk?”

Chan’s eyebrows knitted as he slowly looked away from you. “Okay, I guess.” He stood up, following Minho as the two boys walked out. You looked up at Miyoung, who offered you a shy, genuine smile before sitting in Chan’s spot.

“Hey, Y/n. How are you?”

“Hey. I’m good. You?” You said slowly, slightly cautious. Miyoung was one of those girls who hadn’t been particularly mean, but it wasn’t like she’d gone out of her way to befriend you either. 

“I’m alright...” She smiled again, trailing off a little awkwardly.

Her smile seemed genuine enough, but would she have smiled at you the same if you weren’t with Chan? Probably not, You noted with slight bitterness, sighing under your breath.

“Do you want some?” You spoke up, gesturing to the untouched cheesecake in front of you, tilting your head.

She shook her head, the same smile fixed on her face. “Nah, I’m on a diet. Thanks, though.” She opened her mouth, looking like she wanted to say something else, closing it and fiddling with her fork.

Awkward silence.

“I...” Miyoung looked at the fork in front of her, avoiding eye contact. “Are you happy?”

“Hap...py?” You questioned, a little confused.

“With Chan. Are you happy?”

“Oh..well yeah, I guess.” You frowned. “Um...we’re not actually dating yet, you know that, right?”

“You’re not?” Her eyes widened a little. “Oh...the way he acts around you, I thought...” She shook her head, sitting up straighter. “Anyway, I’m sure he’ll make it official soon.”

“Hmm.” You stared at the girl, her expression a little sad as she looked up, staring out the window. You tilted your head, following her gaze to Minho and Chan, who seemed to be having a conversation.

You looked back at her. “Why’d you ask that question? Are you not happy with Minho?”

“Wha- no, I am! I just... ” She paused. “Forget it. Hey...you want to come with me to the mall later?”

You raised an eyebrow. A week ago you had no friends, and now some of the most popular people at school were lining up to spend time with you. Huh.

“Sure.”

***

“Why do you want to talk? What’s up?”

Minho rolled his eyes. “Nothing much, really.”

Chan frowned. “Why’d you take me out here, then? I’ve got to get back to Y/n-”

Minho narrowed his eyes, leaning against the wall. “Chill, dude. She’s with Miyoung. She’s not going to die if you leave her alone for a few seconds. Why do you care, anyway?”

“What are you talking about?”

Minho pressed his lips together, observing the uneasy expression on Chan’s face. 

“...Whatever. Just know prom’s in a few weeks, and Miyoung’s whipped for me.” He smirked. “You better get that book fast~” He turned around, walking back towards the cafe door.

Chan watched him leave, fists clenching as he watched Minho go up to the table, greeting Miyoung and steadily ignoring you. He watched the slightly hurt expression on your face uncomfortably. He felt so much anger, all of it directed at Minho...and some of it at himself.

***

Miyoung quickly put a smile on her face as Minho entered, standing up as he slunk a hand around her waist. 

“Hey, baby.” He smiled down at her. “Let’s go, my parents aren’t home~”

“Oh...actually, Minho, I kind of made plans with Y/n.” The boy frowned at that, glancing at you. He opened his mouth to protest, interrupted by her.

“Um, we were planning to go to the mall, but you can come too! And so can Chan.” She said, smiling sweetly up at him and running a finger up his chest. “Please? I’ll make it up to you later...” She winked.

“Fine.” He gritted his teeth, looking up as Chan entered, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

“But we’re going in my car.”

***

Miyoung was a sweetheart, really. She just wasn’t the kind of girl you’d usually befriend- but someone was better than no one, right?

She ran her eyes over the jewelry on the shelves, humming under her breath. “Hm, I’m not sure which necklace would match my belt...what color is your prom dress?”

“Oh...I haven’t exactly bought one yet.”

She looked at you, her eyes widening in shock. “What? Prom is two weeks away!”

“Yeah, I know. I might just wear one of my mom’s old dresses.” You shrugged, looking at the brooch Miyoung was holding. “Ooh, that one’s nice.”

Miyoung shook her head incredulously, putting the brooch down and grabbing your wrist. “Come on. I’ll help you find a dress, just follow me.”

You groaned but let her pull you along, deciding to entertain her for the time being. After all, she was your only female friend in years, and you didn't want to lose this yet.

***

People passing by the two boys sitting at the table and sharing their fries would probably think they were friends. Two dudes, hanging out and enjoying a fun guy's night. If only they knew.

Minho slipped another fry into his mouth as he tilted his head. "So you're sure you're going to get the book within the next few days?"

"Um, yeah. I know she trusts me. We've gotten really close."

"Yeah...I can tell." Minho raised an eyebrow, swirling his next victim in the small tub of ketchup.

Chan frowned as he took in Minho's expression. "What's up with that tone?"

"Don't you think you're getting a little too close to Y/n? You could easily steal that book if you wanted to, you spend every day with her now and I'm sure she's left her bag unguarded around you." He smirked. "Part of me wonders if you actually want her around. If you're dragging this out on purpose."

Chan turned red, the implications of what Minho was saying making him swear internally. "Wh- what are you talking about? I only hang out with her cause you made that bet. Or I wouldn't have looked twice at her." He said firmly, almost like he was trying to convince himself.

Minho shrugged, devouring yet another fry as Chan's mind started racing, the familiar feeling of confusion rising up again.

***

"We shouldn't keep Chan and Minho waiting." You groaned, Miyoung choosing to ignore your pleas as she tossed yet another dress at you.

"Shh, they'll be fine. They're at the food court, and you know boys and their relationship with food of any kind. I assure you, they're not missing us. Now come on, I just know you'll look good in green." She smiled.

You sighed, tiredly clutching the dress as you went back into the changing room for the nth time. For the last half hour, you'd repeatedly tried on dresses to the point where you were ready to collapse from exhaustion. However, the excitement Miyoung was radiating made you want to please her...and it was kind of nice, the way she oohed and aahed each time you changed into a different dress. Was this what it's like to have a friend?

You stared at your reflection in the mirror once you managed to get the dress on, your eyes widening. Wow.

The silk was dark green, hugging your waist perfectly. The cut of the dress flattered your body like it was made for you. It was the perfect dress. You fell in love with it the more you turned around, assessing your reflection from every angle.

Slowly, biting your lip, you checked the price tag hanging off it. You sighed. Just as you thought.

You knew your mom would never be able to afford a dress this expensive. A sudden rush of guilt ran through you as you dropped the tag, running a hand through your hair as you moved to take the dress off.

For a minute, your hand paused on the zipper, your eyes travelling back to your reflection. For a moment, you let yourself imagine attending prom wearing this beautiful dress.

An image of you and Chan, slow dancing under the dimmed gym lights settled itself in your brain. You let a small, dreamy smile take over your face as you removed the dress. Even if you'd be wearing your mom's old floral dress, at least the Chan part of your fantasy would remain true.

***

You hadn't had this much fun in ages. So this was what it was like to hang out with friends. You wished you'd met Chan and Miyoung earlier.

The only problem? Minho. Your worst nightmare, in the form of a handsome high school boy with a devilish smirk and a weird, unprovoked hatred towards you. The fact that you were now left alone with him was probably the only downside to an otherwise wonderful day.

Miyoung had dashed into a shop, saying she'd be out in a second, and soon after Chan had dipped saying he had to go withdraw some money at the ATM. By pure, rotten luck, you somehow winded up sitting next to Minho on the mall bench as the two of you waited for your partners to come back.

You stared ahead of you, determined not to look at the boy sitting next to you. He'd always ignored you, treated you like you were the dirt on his shoe. You weren't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing you hated him as much as he hated you.

After a few minutes, Minho smirked, glancing over at you. "Why do you look so worried? Afraid your boyfriend's gone to cheat on you?" He asked, his tone dripping with fake sweetness.

You turned to look at him, glaring. God, this dude was so annoying.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Minho's eyebrow raised slightly, as he hadn't really expected you to reply. His expression faltered for a moment before his usual sneer took over his face once more.

"There isn't anything wrong with me, darling." He said, looking up and eyeing a lady in a crop top. You followed his gaze and let out a snort.

"What an asshole."

"Excuse me?"

You turned to him, anger taking over your entire being again.

"Miyoung's a sweet girl. She deserves a lot better than a lying dickhead who can't even keep his eyes to himself." You scoffed. "You should stop using her like this."

Minho's mouth opened slightly, the slight shock giving way to amusement as he grinned.

"I'm using her?" He pouted. "Hm. I guess that is wrong...I should probably take lessons from your boyfriend, yeah? Since he's so perfect."

"What do you mean?" You narrowed your eyes, slight discomfort settling in you as the man shifted closer to you on the bench.

"Just saying." He shrugged. "Channie isn't who you think he is." Leaning in, you shuddered as you felt his lips graze your ear. "I'd watch my back if I were you, sweetheart~"

He quickly drew back as he noticed Miyoung emerge from the shop, expression neutral as he stood up to go over to his girlfriend.

What was he talking about?

***

"Hey, you okay? You seem...out of it." Chan said gently, glancing at you from the corner of his eyes as he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

"Oh? What- no, I'm fine." You nodded, carefully staring at your lap. Chan turned to look at you, frowning.

"You sure?"

"Uh huh." You said slowly, staring out the window as Chan drove you home. There was silence in the car, and Chan hated it. The atmosphere was thick with unspoken tension. He wanted to do something about it, but you looked so closed off and guarded ever since he got back from the ATM.

"You can...you can always talk to me, you know." He said gently, as he stopped the car in front of your house.

"I know." You mumbled, looking up at him. "I'm sorry. Thank you for today, it was fun. See you tomorrow?"

"I wake up at 5 am every day for you, now." He whined, glad your smile was back on your face. "You know, going to school that early should be a crime."

You giggled as you got out of his car, closing the door and going over to his side.

"Well then, arrest me, officer~"

Chan blushed slightly, gripping the wheel. "Bye, Y/n." He laughed, as you blew a kiss and turned to enter your house.

Chan let out a sigh under his breath. He realized slowly that for the entirety of the day, he hadn't felt all that much jealousy. He'd been too focused on you to even notice Minho's desperate attempts to induce envy in him. And after Minho's sly accusation, Chan didn't know what to believe. Could it be...

This was bad. This was really bad.