#(and you managed to make him stop SMILING and drop the charming act!)

[ikkaku-of-heart]

@pxison asked Darter: (here comes Niji to mess with Darter a lil) - "So." Already, the prince alters his voice a bit to sound all too similarly to the man whose hair mirrored his own. Why? To start shit of course! "What kind of stupid moniker is 'Middle Toe Murderer' anyways?" Unprompted

If there was one thing Darter hated, it was copycats. He'd spent years having to hide his true self, conforming in the daylight to society's standards and playing a part. Becoming the Middle Toe Murderer was the only way he'd felt like he'd been able to stand out. To have his own identity. To be unique. Oh, he'd had a copycat or two during his serial killer days, and it had never failed to make his blood boil. He'd always made sure to hunt down those impersonators quickly and handle them viscerally. Darter had refused to lose the one thing he had that let him stand out. The Middle Toe Murderer moniker might have sounded silly, but removing the middle toe of his victims made him stand out. Made him feel noticed and alive.

Ironically, he was pretty sure it was the only thing that kept him anything close to sane.

Only when he'd joined the Heart Pirates, where he'd been able to be authentic and himself and still be accepted; had been able to be happy. True, he'd had to wear a uniform exactly like most of the rest of the crew, but he'd still been able to stand out with his hair, his smile, his skills, and his personality.

So it instantly grated on him when the Germa 66, who already had the same hairstyle as him, came over and copied his voice. Insulted his moniker. Of course, as a Northerner, Darter already was prone to disliking the Germa Kingdom and Germa 66 on principle, but this one? Ohhhh Vinsmoke Niji had just managed to make the trademark friendly smile actually drop from his face.

"A name I earned by removing the middle toe of my victims. What kind of name is 'Electric Shock Blue'?" Darter shot back, gritting his teeth. "It sounds like a crayon name. Is that how you got it? Judge just picked it out of a box of school supplies? And isn't your brother 'Sparking Red'? Makes sense for the second-born to have a second-best, copycat name." Was he being petty? Hell yes, but he didn't care in the slightest. It was either that or attempting to add the second prince to his kill count. That, and it helped him ignore just how unnerving the impersonation of his voice really was.

Glaring at Niji's hair for a moment, he added, "Just like your pompadour's a second-best version of mine, 'Doppelganger Blue'."

[mywritersmind]

Can you write some fake dating with lando pretty please🥹

HATE ME - LN4

listen up : no warnings!! hope you enjoy bc i got stuck on this so bad😘 lando x popstar!reader

word count : 1886

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“Y/n!” A reporter yells at me as I walk up the paddock, “Y/n! What are you doing?”

I slow down and laugh a bit, “Looking for my boyfriend!”

“What’s your thoughts with him coming off a win, think he can swing it?” I roll my eyes playfully.

“I certainly think he can! America has been great to him before.” They laugh, knowing I'm not just talking about his win but also myself.

“How about your upcoming album!?” A woman asks, my mood already improving, “Any details you can share?”

I’m about to respond when I feel arms wrap around my waist, “Hi pretty.” He says in my ear but just loud enough to be heard.

I smile and brush my hand against his arm, “Lan!”

He looks up at the reporters, pointing to them, “You lot back off! She’s my good luck charm this weekend!”

We walk away, I glance up to Lando’s face to see him smiling. I can’t help but be surprised for the millionth time, he’s a damn good actor.

The second we get inside, doors shut and nobody around, Lando drops his hands off me. “Hi Pretty.” I mock his accent as he rolls his eyes.

My fake boyfriend strides across the room, grabbing his water bottle. He's in a Mclaren shirt and jeans, his curls perfect and defined.

“You really need to stop swerving my lips when we’re in public.” I plop down on the couch and try to tune him out, it doesn’t work. “People are starting to notice.”

I text my manager back as he complains, “I’ve never shown any PDA with my ex’s. You’re not special, Norris.”

I ignore the way his bicep moves when he pushes off the couch, “Well I have.”

“You don’t think regular couples settle on my side for this? I didn’t think you were thirsting for me that much.”

He scoffs and I know I got him there, “I’m just saying! It’s not normal.”

“Of course you’d think that, all you and your ex’s did was make out in public!” His manager walks in just then before he can respond.

Point, Y/n.

“Will you two keep it down?” He groans, “Just because you argue like an old married couple, doesn’t mean it fits your roles! Lando, it’s media time.”

“Talk about me.” I mumble as he walks out.

“Can I announce our breakup?” He eyes me before shutting the door. I breathe out, just trying to get through this weekend.

⋆｡‧˚⋆

P1 in qualifying, great. I act all happy and actually kiss him this time. I don’t agree with the majority of what he says but even my manager told me I need to do a tiny bit more.

Lando and I’s… agreement, is complicated and completely necessary for our careers. I’m rising to fame and he’s falling in the dumps with all his media scares.

After a mini scandal broke about me, Lando and I met. We were drunk and totally out of depth. He told the paparazzi outside the bar that we were dating and I had kissed him like I believed it.

Everything went up in flames but through the fire our teams decided to come up with this whole fake dating thing. I make him look good, the unproblematic, pretty, popstar. He added an edge to me and brought quite a few new fans.

But most of all, after his lie to the public was splashed over every media surface, the picture of my lips against his, I couldn’t just back out. He would have looked like a player (because he was one) and I would have been labeled a slut.

So now i’m at the paddock every weekend, planning my own shows and sporting him in the crowd. My fans eat it up though, he’s hot, rich and british.

Lando doesn’t listen to his brain before his mouth opens and once when someone asked what he thought about my performance he replied with, “She’s insane and beautiful and way too talented to be my girlfriend.” That sealed it for everyone.

He kisses my cheek, winking. He’s not all bad, even though I can’t really stand him it’s not like he’s disrespectful or rude to me.

Lando gets pulled away for media and I find myself watching his interview with Alexandra, Charles’ girlfriend. We’re not watching our ‘boyfriends’ at all, gossiping about the celebrities that are coming this weekend.

⋆｡˚⋆

LANDOS POV

The reporter is saying things but I’m distracted. My eyes keep wandering past the man in front of me and going to my ‘girlfriend’.

She’s talking to Alex, flipping his hair over her shoulder and grinning. She never smiles like that with me.

I answer another question but it’s half assed and I don’t really care. I watch her jaw move as she talks, how she jumps up and down when she’s talking about something she loves, she crosses her ankles and pinches the bridge of her nose.

I’m suddenly feeling very left out of the conversation and don’t realize the reporter is repeating my name, “Lando?” I rip my eyes away from her a he looks to what I was looking at.

He’s smiling when he turns back to me, “Distracted… Sorry.” I scratch the back of my back, looking down and smiling as the man laughs.

⋆｡‧˚⋆

Y/NS POV

What is he playing at? I’ve been tagged in a million clips of Lando’s interview. The way he looked at me- fuck! He’s so confusing I hate him.

This weekend has felt forever long and it’s not even over. Lando and I go to a little house party, weird for the day before a race but none of the guys seem bothered by it.

In fact, everyone’s having fun. It’s like watching impending doom, knowing they’re all about to mess with each other on the track.

Lando obviously isn’t drinking and since he’s driving, I down a glass with Alex and Lily as soon as I step in the door.

Someone has rented an airbnb and it’s gorgeous. Not too big, but a nice fire in the back and a huge living room.

“I’m gonna go talk to Carlos.” Lando’s hand drifts off me as he walks away. I barely even realized his touch, I'm getting too comfortable with it.

“Girl!” Rebecca, Carlos’ girlfriend, says to me, “I’ve never seen Lando this in love!” The only people who know Lando and I aren’t actually together is Alex, Lily, Alexandra, possibly Charles, Oscar, and Carlos.

Lily and Alex sip their drinks beside me as I blink, pausing for too long. I laugh and smile, “You’re sweet.”

“I’m serious!” She continues, “Those eyes, it’s unmistakable!” Something about it makes me sad. Because Lando doesn’t actually like me at all? Or because whenever I get a glimpse of that look, it’s always in public?

Lily changes the subject with remarkable speed, Alex hands me another drink and I sigh a thank you.

The night goes on, it’s slow and nice to have a simple sort of get together instead of how Lando likes to party.

Speaking of, my fake boyfriend dances up to me as I laugh out of embarrassment, he takes my hand and pulls me outside. I look back to Alexandra who just shrugs and watches me leave.

I smile at Lily who’s sitting on Alex’s lap. I sit next to Lando around the fire, I'm getting tired and a bit tipsy. I rest my head on his shoulder as everyone talks.

I can’t think about why he brought me over here. It’s not like I’m contributing to the conversation in a big way.

“What!? Lily was my idol before I got into F1!” I agree with her, she claims I didn’t like her but I was following her for months!

“You were so intimidating!” She shakes her head.

“You are intimidating.” Lando speaks up as I eye him. Lily’s eyes flicks down to my hand then my face then back to my hand.

I give her a confused look before glancing at my hand, Lando’s fingers are stretched over it, spinning my own ring around my middle finger.

I avoid Lily’s eyes as I look up at Lando, “Excuse me?”

“You are!” he argues, “The first time we met I was scared shitless.” I shake my head and finish my drink, my body warm and buzzing.

Charles and Carlos both laugh as Carlos speaks, “Fuck I remember that! At that club? He had like five shots to hype himself up.”

The firelight shines on Lando’s face as his cheeks go pink, “Worked a bit too well.” I find a small smile on my face. I never knew that.

People slowly start leaving, Alex and Lily leave us outside to help cleanup. His hand leaves mine, I rest my arms under my head, leaning on his chair as he looks down at me.

“Saw you talking to Franco…” He slyly mentions.

“What now, Norris, you jealous?” His jaw ticks.

“Just saying it’s not a good look for my girlfriend to be flirting with someone on the grid. Or anyone at all.”

“Sounds pretty jealous to me!” I hum as he shakes his head, “Gonna win tomorrow?” I ask.

“Maybe.” He shrugs.

“For me?” I am definitely not in my head correctly.

He bites back a smirk, keeping eye contact, “What do I get if I win?”

He's teasing me and I like it far too much, “What do you want?”

I almost miss it. I would have if I didn’t keep eye contact. But something appears on Lando’s face… something familiar and that I thought was fake.

That fucking look.

Except now we’re away from everybody else, I’m the only one who can see his face and it makes me feel sick. He’s got a soft smile on, brushing my hair out of my face, his touch burning me.

I sit up straight, “I hate you.”

“No you don’t.” He smirks, clearly amused.

“You hate me!” I’m confused and angry and that damn smile isn’t helping.

He gives an airy laugh before his smile dims, his tongue running over his teeth before his eyes flick back up to mine, “No I don’t.”

I frown, “You’re supposed to!”

He shakes his head, “Why would I hate you?”

I groan, putting my face in my hands, “Because you’re in this mess because of me! I wrote a song about you.” I see his blink, the pause in his emotion as if he’s trying to figure me out. “And i’m angry! Because I didn’t want this and I didn’t want you!” I vent, “So you can’t like me now because I’ll feel bad!”

He blinks, once, twice, “Okay. I hate you.” He says it with zero emotion.

“For as good an actor as you are… that didn’t sound very convincing.” I pout and he laughs.

“I’m not a good actor, love.” I suddenly feel sobered.

“Hate me, Lando. That would make this a lot easier.” I’m mad at him. I can’t do this with him looking at me like that.

He tilts his head a bit, his jaw moving, a curl perfectly in his face. He says it with ease and a newfound softness in his voice, “How could I ever hate you?”

[just-jordie-things]

crushing - takuma ino

word count: 3k warnings: i think none summary: ino's not great at making moves and you're not great at picking up on them. either way, you're undeniably crushing on each other. a/n: this is my first ino fic! i don't usually post something immediately after finishing it but i really wanted feedback on this one before i wrote bigger n better fics for him :3 ___

Takuma Ino was not a desperate man.

At least he hoped he didn’t come off that way whenever he crossed paths with (y/l/n) (y/n).  He really hoped he didn’t.  Because every day he spent at Jujutsu Tech, he went out of his way to ‘accidentally’ bump into her as many times as possible.  

His personal best was twenty-five.  That day he’d stayed well past sunset to finish the paperwork he’d neglected, but he still stands by his choices.

Nanami claimed that if he had a crush on the young manager, then he should just ask her out already, but Ino didn’t think it was that easy.  Not because he was  nervous- of course not! He just wanted to be certain that she would agree to go out with him before making a move.  That wasn’t a ridiculous notion, was it? 

It wasn’t ridiculous.  It just meant things moved… slowly.

“Ino, hey,” 

(y/n’s) drawn out of her conversation with Maki when she sees the Grade Two Sorcerer approaching in the hall.  There’s a soft smile of familiarity on her face, unlike the student beside her who rolled her eyes and slumped against the wall, knowing that it would take twice as long to have her paperwork looked over.  This wasn’t the first time Maki had witnessed the perfect distraction that was Takuma Ino.  It was already the fourth time this week, and just like every other time, (y/n) fell for it right away.

Just as he approaches the both of them, a look of confusion flashes across (y/n’s) face, and she tucks the forgotten paperwork against her chest as she tilts her head at him.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on your way to Yokohama? I thought you were assigned to that Grade One curse with the whole…” She pauses as she makes an indefinite shape with her hands, “Explosive thing?” 

“I’m about to head out for it now, but, you know,” He shrugs his shoulders, a smile forming on his face the longer he looks at her.

The first time he’d laid eyes on her he’d done a cartoonish double take, which unfortunately Nanami bore witness to.  She’d been walking and chatting animatedly with Ijichi- who seemed less passionate about the conversation but was an attentive listener nonetheless- and every time he’d seen her since, Ino felt the same lurch in his heart that was the desire to linger near her just a little longer.

Before he could finish his thought, Maki was speaking up first.

“You just wanted to show up late?” She asked dryly, her expression anything but amused by the sight of young love.

“I’m not late,” He chuckles nervously, shaking his head.  “I just wanted to stop by my good luck charm before I left” He claims with a little more confidence before he grins at (y/n).

She laughs at the comment, and Maki can’t help but roll her eyes just a little bit.  Typical.  Surely she’d swoon over the flirty comment and then drop it completely, just like she always did.

“Yeah yeah,” She mused, just like Maki expected.  “Go, don’t get yourself in trouble again.  I don’t think Nanami will keep vouching for you” 

“Sure he will,” Ino waves a dismissive hand, but judging from the way he’s already turning away and breaking into a jog, (y/n) and Maki can see through the nonchalant act.  “But it’ll be quick! I’ll have the shortest report ever for you!” He hollers from down the hall.

(y/n’s) still chuckling once he’s out of sight.  Maki huffs in aggravation.

“I can’t believe you lead that guy on.  You’re gonna have to let him down easy if you don’t want him to have a stroke”

“What?” (y/n) shakes her head at the student’s accusation.  “I don’t lead him on, we just get along” 

“You lead him on” Maki deadpans.  (y/n) holds her paperwork a little tighter against herself, and the defensive action doesn’t go unnoticed.

“This isn’t appropriate, I won’t allow for this to be a silly rumor of some s-” 

“Gojo Sensei says that he’ll never make a move unless you do it first” Maki shrugs.

All professionalism flies out the window in an instant as (y/n’s) face goes blank, her eyes blinking wide as she stares back at the student in utter disbelief.

“He did?” She mumbles.  

Maki nods in confirmation.

(y/n) glances around herself to ensure their conversation would be a private one, before shuffling forward and lowering her voice.

“Well… what else did he say?” ___

To say that (y/n) had a bit of a crush on the Auspicious Beast Summoner would be an understatement.  From the day he’d fallen in front of her- literally, he fell down half a flight of stairs and she’d rushed to make sure he was alright- there was something exciting about him.  He was so kind, and funny, and he so obviously went out of his way to talk to her that she slowly found her heart fluttering more and more whenever he was around.

All this time she’d thought he was just friendly, and was eager to have a companion at Jujutsu Tech that was his age.  Why else would he spend so much time around a manager when there are much cooler, much stronger people around? It was no secret what he thought of Nanami, and while (y/n) was proud of her work, she simply couldn’t compete with the skill of a sorcerer.

Usually she wasn’t one to listen to rumors, especially from a source like Gojo Satoru.  He may have been a friend-of-sorts to her, but that didn’t mean (y/n) trusted him for a second.  Gojo was a good guy, but he was the kind of guy to stir the pot when he was bored, and playing matchmaker was just a game to him.  So despite everything Maki had told her, she didn’t necessarily believe it.  She was just curious, that’s all.

And the only reason she was headed off to Ino’s office after being notified he’d returned from his mission was just to address the rumors, that’s all.  She was doing him a favor by letting him know what the other sorcerers were gossiping about.  There couldn’t possibly be an ulterior motive laced in there as well.

His door is open when she reaches the small workspace, but he doesn’t seem to notice when she appears there, leaning into the door frame while she takes in the crude office.  

Calling it an office didn’t even feel correct.  There was a desk and a computer, and a semi-comfortable looking rolling chair that Ino was sitting in.  He hadn’t realized there was a visitor at the door seeing as he had his head hanging over the back of it, his mask pulled down and his hands pressed into his face.  (y/n) had to bite back the chuckle that threatened to come out of her, assuming there was more to report in his paperwork than he’d assumed and was now overwhelmed by it.

With a soft tap of her knuckles on the doorframe, (y/n) makes her presence known.

“Need some help?” 

Ino jolts up so suddenly his chair is sent backwards, rolling away from the desk and tipping out of balance too, but he’s quick to steady himself, staring at her sudden figure at his door with wide eyes.  It’s the only part of his expression she can make out, seeing as he’s still got his mask pulled over his face.

“(y/n)!” He greets her louder than he intended, but he had yet to shake off his surprise in seeing her.  A fond smile tilts the corners of her mouth, unable to be helped as she watches him awkwardly scramble in his seat.  “How long have you been standing there?” 

“Long enough to consider leaving if you were crying under there” She teases, finally stepping foot into the room.  Her eyes wander the bare gray walls, a slight frown taking over at how empty the whole space feels.

“No, I’m not-” Before he continues, Ino’s quick to yank his mask off his face, pulling it off his head completely and dropping it on his desk.  “What brings you here?” He changes the subject completely, his eyes never leaving her figure as she wanders around the room as if looking for something.

He realizes then that she’s never seen his office- not that there was much to see, as she was coming to find- but nonetheless it’s odd that she’s the one approaching him for once.  It was always Ino searching around the halls of Jujutsu Tech for her, not the other way around.

“So empty,” (y/n) comments quietly, and he’s not sure if she was talking to herself or him.  “You don’t like to decorate?” She asks, this time turning to him.

“I’m not in here very much,” He admits, a sheepish smile on his face.  “I take most of my paperwork home.  If I’m here I’m not usually in the office” 

“Yeah,” (y/n) smiles softly, ducking her head to hide the way her face warms up.  “That’s cause you’re usually trying to bother me” 

She doesn’t see it, but Ino’s face lights up.  He bears a wide grin and his eyes gleam with excitement.  She was acting quite out of character today.  Usually he was the one teasing her.  This was a real treat.

“Bother?” He repeats, standing up from his chair and rounding his desk to lean against it, completely ignoring the half-written report on his computer that he hadn’t hit save on in a while.  “I don’t seem to remember ever bothering you” 

She rolls her eyes, finally looking up at him, and Ino thinks he could combust from excitement.  She’s blushing, which he’s not sure he’s ever seen before, and he can tell she’s fighting back a bigger smile behind the small one she shows him.

“Well what would you call it then?” She asks, still struggling to bite back a grin that mirrors his.  So much joy poured out of him it was difficult to fight the way it took her by the soul and forced her to feel nothing but warmth and butterflies.

“Obviously I was romancing you,” Ino replies without missing a beat, surprising even himself with the blunt truth.  Besides the way her eyes round into saucers, (y/n) doesn’t really react to the statement.  “Not my fault you’re a hard person to flirt with sometimes” He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly, and then tucks his hands into his pockets.

(y/n) blinks a few times, staring him down like she was suddenly an expert in body language.

“I am?” She asks, a small laugh escaping her at the suggestion.  “Because maybe I didn’t know you were flirting” She says with a shrug of her own.

Ino gapes back at her, unable to keep up with the chill facade when she says something so ridiculous.

“What do you mean you didn’t know?” He asks, and she laughs again, finally losing the battle to the grin on her face.  “Was I not obvious enough? You know that even Gojo was trying to get me to-” 

“Yeah, I know,” (y/n) says quietly, but it’s effective in getting him to shut up.  “One of his students might’ve told me some rumors they heard from him” She explains.

“What!?” Embarrassment floods his features.  “Who? I want names-” 

“Can’t, teacher-student confidentiality and all” She teases.  

She’s learning it was quite fun to not be on the receiving end of the playful banter.  In the past it was always Ino with the perfect quip or joke to have her flustered for the rest of the day, even if she wouldn’t show it.  Knowing he was actually incredibly easy to mess with felt like knowing his weakness.

“You’re not a teacher” He deadpans.  She laughs again.

“Well, I actually came to let you know that certain sorcerers here were spreading rumors to slander your good name,” She tells him matter of factly.  “But it appears those rumors are actually true, so they’re not really rumors, huh?” 

Ino rolls his eyes, but it’s in no way directed at her.  He makes a mental note to bring this up to Nanami to add to the very long list of grievances caused by Gojo Satoru.

(y/n) steps close to him, linking her fingers together behind her back as she finds the courage to hold eye contact with him.

“Why didn’t you just ask me out?” She asks.

He hates that she tilts her head to the side just so.  She did it on occasion when she was confused about something, and Ino’s sure that she’s not even aware that she had that tendency, but every time she did it he was so overwhelmed by the urge to kiss her that most of the time he had to completely walk away from her.

But they’re in his office, having a conversation he really didn’t want to walk away from.  If he ran now, there would be no coming back from it, and his intrigue in how she felt about him outweighed the aggravation she caused him when she looked that pretty.

He’s staring at her without saying anything, and he knows it’s been a few seconds too long to be comfortable, but it’s hard to care.  She’s close enough to him that he can smell her perfume and see how every strand of hair falls over left shoulder and he can’t help but take in every pretty sight of her.

He once swore he wasn’t a desperate man, hence his patience in waiting while he tried to figure out how she felt before he made a move, but standing here now, what’s one promise in the grand scheme of life? 

So he leans forward off his desk a bit, desperation getting the best of him.

“Would you have agreed?” 

She raises her chin, the apples of her cheeks getting rosy in color despite her trying to play it cool.

“I asked you first” 

“I asked you second” 

That had her bursting out in laughter, hands falling to her hips.

“Oh, real mature!” She says through a fit of bubbly giggles.

It’s cute.  It was so cute in fact, Ino just couldn’t take it anymore.  The fun banter he’d tried to establish had now warped into his own personal hell.

And hell didn’t even have any boring office decorations, no succulents, no photo frames, not even a calendar.

“Just answer the question,” He says, and it comes out as more of a plea than he means for it to, but he doesn’t bother trying to compensate for it, or taking it back.  “Would you have agreed to go out with me?” 

He has a hopeful look in his eye that only seems to gleam more with every second that passes without her response.  (y/n) softens, the warmth in her chest spreading throughout her entire body and making her melt like putty.  It was almost pathetic, how quickly this little crush she’d harbored for the sorcerer had grown into something more genuine than she’s ever felt for anyone before.

“Yeah,” She answers simply, quietly, barely nodding her head along with her confirmation.  “Yeah, I would have” 

The smile he wears is so sweet and pure that she’s mirroring it in a heartbeat.

“Okay,” He thinks he’s going to pass out if he doesn’t hurry this up, so he rushes the next string of words out so fast (y/n’s) lucky she managed to understand him.  “You wanna go out then? Tonight? For drinks? And then maybe dinner?” 

She’s laughing as she nods, her hands nervously fiddling together.

“Okay,” She repeats, rocking back and forth on her feet just once.  “But you should finish your report first.  So, call me when you’re done?” 

He wants to protest, but he knows she’s right.  So as he hands her his phone to add herself as a contact, Ino mentally starts going through what he has to finish so he could get through it as quickly as possible.

She’s still grinning when she hands him his phone back, already eager for the day to be over.

“I’ll be quick, promise” He beams back at her as she makes her way out of his office.

“You pick where we go for drinks, and I’ll pick where we go for dinner,” She decides, lingering at the doorway for just a moment longer.  “Sound good?” 

“Sounds perfect” He’s back in his chair and clicking away at his keyboard as he writes nonsense into his report.  

(y/n’s) gone with a little wave and a blush that only burns brighter the further away she gets.  She just hopes she doesn’t run into anyone in the meantime.

Ino tries to work on his report after adding some meaningless fluff of things that didn’t really happen, and weren’t really necessary for the report.  He really does try.

For five whole minutes.

But then he can’t help but open his phone to check on the contact (y/n) had just made for himself, and seeing the little orange heart emoji she’d added next to her name has him swooning way too hard- over an emoji, at least.  But that’s what she reduced him to, mush.

(y/n’s) just reached the front steps of Jujutsu Tech when her phone starts blaring her ringtone in her pocket.  She makes a face at the unknown number calling her, but it’s washed away as soon as she picks it up.

“Would you believe me if I said I finished already?” Ino’s speaking right away, without so much as a greeting.  

She giggles into the receiver, because no, no she doesn’t.

“That’s quite impressive work” She praises.

“I think you’ll come to find I’m quite an impressive guy!” He responds, and then quickly follows it with, “Not in, like, a douchebag way though!” 

She fights the urge to laugh any harder, not wanting to put him through any more embarrassment than he’s already suffered today.  They still have an entire evening ahead of them, after all.

“Of course not,” She murmurs softly.  “Meet me at the front steps, then? We can go into town together” 

And when Ino’s there in under a minute, trying desperately not to show how out of breath he is, she doesn’t tease him for it.  Not until later in the night after a few drinks in, anyways.

___

xoxo ~ jordie

[nanamincreampie]

College Playboy Toji part 2

Toji Fushiguro x Black plus size reader

Warnings: none just pure fluff ( nsfw in part 3 though), Toji being a lovesick puppy

(part 1) (part 3)

College playboy Toji was known for his smooth charm, the kind that usually made things easy for him. But for the past month, you’d been an unexpected challenge—one he couldn’t get out of his mind. No matter what he tried, every smooth line or playful attempt, you deflected, keeping him at a distance. So one night, as he lounged in the frat house, he sighed, dropping onto the couch next to Gojo and Geto. He hesitated, but he’d never been this stumped before.

“Toji, man, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Gojo grinned, taking one look at his friend’s face. “Is that the face of campus heartbreaker Toji having trouble with a girl?”

Geto smirked knowingly. “Yeah, no offense, but you usually wrap things up by now. What’s different this time?”

Toji ran a hand through his hair, leaning back with a frustrated sigh. “She’s…different. I don’t know, it’s like she sees right through my usual moves. Doesn’t even give me the time of day.”

Gojo’s eyes lit up with mischief. “Well, maybe she’s too smart for all that cheap charm of yours. You might actually have to try, you know? Get to know her and stop acting like some Greek god on campus.”

“Exactly,” Geto nodded. “Why don’t you start by doing something meaningful? Show her you’re not just about that reputation. And maybe, just maybe, bring her flowers or something. Women like that, trust me.”

“Flowers? You think she’ll even go for that?” Toji raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical, but already making a mental note.

“Trust us.” Gojo gave him a smug smile. “Worst case, you get turned down again, and we get to see you humbled.”

Toji rolled his eyes, already a bit nervous but resolved to give it a shot.

The next day, Toji waited outside your class, bouncing slightly on his feet with a bouquet of roses in hand. His heart skipped a beat when he finally spotted you coming out, looking effortlessly gorgeous in blue jeans that hugged every curve, and a simple white tee. Somehow, you always managed to stand out, with that confident stride and effortless glow against your deep brown skin. The soft curves of your hips, the way your jeans fit just right over your thighs, and your radiant smile—all of it had him forgetting every other girl he’d ever been interested in.

When your eyes met his, you walked over, intrigued. “What’s up, Toji? Didn’t expect to see you outside my class.”

He cleared his throat, nerves showing as he struggled to find the right words. “I, uh… I was hoping you’d let me take you out. Just one date. If you don’t like it, I’ll leave you alone.”

You were about to decline, but he cut you off with a soft, sincere look in his eyes. “Just one date,” he repeated, almost pleading. “Let me prove I’m not just all talk.”

After a beat, you gave in with a small smile, nodding. “Alright, one date. But that’s all you’re getting if you don’t impress.”

A grin spread across his face as he fumbled to pull out his phone. “Great, I’ll pick you up Friday at 8. I’ll text you the details.”

Friday evening arrived, and Toji stood outside your dorm, fidgeting slightly with a fresh bouquet of roses. Just as he raised a hand to knock, you opened the door, taking him by surprise. He was left momentarily speechless, taking in the sight of you in a red silk dress that hugged every curve. Your soft curls framed your face perfectly, and your lips looked irresistibly plump, making him almost forget how to breathe.

You raised an eyebrow, smiling as you noticed his surprise. “I thought we were meeting at your place?”

He stumbled over his words, blushing for the first time you’d ever seen. “I, uh… I wanted to surprise you,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

You smirked, leaning in just slightly. “Well, you did,” you teased, leaving him flustered. He muttered a soft “forget it,” shoving the roses toward you.

You chuckled, accepting them with a warm smile. “Thank you, Toji. They’re beautiful.”

He offered his hand, still a little nervous. “Shall we?”

Dinner flowed effortlessly. Toji found himself completely immersed, forgetting his usual charms and just enjoying every story you shared. You told him about your love for painting, your collection of novels, and your weekend explorations around the city. He was enthralled by the way your eyes lit up when you talked about the things you loved. The night went perfectly, with laughter filling the space between every bite, making it impossible for him to look away from you.

As he walked you back to your dorm, his hand warm and steady in yours, the usual cocky Toji was nowhere in sight. Once you arrived at your door, you turned to face him with a soft smile. “Thank you, Toji. Tonight was perfect.”

He shrugged, brushing it off coolly, but you noticed the sincerity in his eyes. “Anytime.”

Before he could react, you leaned up, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “Can’t wait for next time,” you whispered, leaving him speechless as you disappeared inside, leaving him with a dazed smile on his face.

[that-one-p00k1e]

Coincidence?

Muichiro x Fem!Reader, lil High school AU

Warnings: none just fluff Ig Idk bro

Note: Wowzers!!😱😱 I'm still alive!!😱😱 This was a bit rushed because I wanted to post something after so long and bcs IT'S MY BIRTHDAY WHAATT🤯🤯 crazy amirite anw pls forgive the grammar and how boring this is

Nothing felt better than hearing the last bell of a school day ring, knowing that the days after were the end of the week. The heavenly images in your head of finally being able to lay in bed, cuddled up in a warm blanket after taking a good relaxing shower.

However, instead of immediately going home, you decided to head to the park near the school to have a breath of fresh air. Fortunately, it seems to be vacant with no one on sight occupying it.

The rustling of leaves blown by the wind, the smell of fresh grass and dirt, and the silence that brought the feel of peace and tranquility. But the one thing that had always caught your attention, was the cherry blossom tree planted at the center of the park. For you, it was the most beautiful sight in the park. Almost never has its beauty failed to captivate passersby.

As you decided to take a seat underneath the tree, you noticed a familiar backpack laid on the ground. Thinking it could be anyone's and not just the specific familiar person you know who owns that exact same object, you reluctantly and carefully looked to the back of the tree to see who the mystery owner was. ‘Probably a random stranger’ you easily thought. But oh how wrong you were as your heart dropped the moment your eyes settled on the known figure.

Under the falling petals of cherry blossom he sat; beautiful mint-green eyes fixated on the strings of his guitar, fingers carefully strumming a melody that could soothe one's nerves. His long black hair gently swayed in the wind, coloured ends that matched his  irises. You've always admired him since the first day of high school; managing to get a few interactions here and there through group work. As much as you wanted to get to know him better, the charming and attractive classmate had his own walls built when it comes to the social environment. Not even the guys in your class could make him crack a bit of a smile. Thus, you've accepted such defeat ever since.

But seeing him being so peaceful right now, enjoying himself in his own world, made it hard for you to bat your eyes away from him. You couldn't help but just gaze in awe at the sight of such beauty.

Until his fingers suddenly stopped playing through the guitar strings.

The moment he perked his head up, you immediately hid yourself behind the other side of the tree; heart almost stopped working. You hear him getting up, walking closer and closer to where you once stood. As your breath hitched, you tried to act cool in case the both of you went face-to-face. You hoped you wouldn't, but fate unfortunately had its own plan.

“Y/N?” a deep yet gentle voice called out to you from the side of the tree, making your heart race faster than it already had been. He looked at you with a gaze oh-so empty; making it difficult to look through that stoic disposition of his.

“Oh! Uhh… yeah, it's me. Fancy seeing you here,” you greeted awkwardly, fidgeting the hem of your shirt from the embarrassment you felt deep down.

You thought he would be reluctant to engage further in the conversation, but to your surprise, he proceeded to ask another question.

“It's your birthday today, isn't it?”

The moment his words entered your hearing, it felt as if your organs were rearranged.

“I- uhh… How did you know?”

“Heard your friends mentioning about it. Forgot to give you this.”

He rummaged through his bag, before pulling out a box wrapped in gift paper and handing it to you with that blank stare maintained.

“For you. In addition to your birthday,” he said reluctantly.

You hesitantly took the gift from his hand, internally debating if this was a dream or not. Before you could word out your gratitude, he quickly picked up his belongings and threw a short “My bus is here, gotta go,” leaving you on your own with your thoughts; trying to process what just happened. You looked down at the gift he had given you, then pinched yourself to double check reality. Yet there was one thing you didn't put your mind into.

If he recently knew about your birthday from your friends today… How did he forget a gift regarding something he had never known about in the first place?

[avenging-fandoms]

Hello!

I have this scenario in my head. Pedro and you have a fast growing relationship. The love at first sight kind. You gets pregnant from their first time having sex (yeah they are not safe and that’s the result). Nobody knows they are in a relationship. They don’t know how to announce it , it’s so fast , they know it’s not gonna be welcomed very well. At a press tour for their common movie , you almost faint and Pedro is very worried running to her to make sure she’s ok, all the cameras on them, kinda giving away both their secrets (relationship/ pregnancy).

That’s very precise 🤣😅 sorry

**brief sexual scene **yes this is a pregnancy fic

**alternative ending

-

It all happened so suddenly, you didn't expect it and it made your head spin. But a good head spin, you were deeply in love. And you weren't even looking.

Pedro Pascal had been a name you heard of a few times, but never really looked him up. You were cast in a movie with him where you were his love interest, so when you first met him at the first script reading, you couldn’t catch your breath.

He was charming, creative, and got the giggles very easily which you adored. Pedro would make frequent stops in your trailer to practice lines. Practicing ended up being full out, which led to acting kisses being real heavy make-outs.

Pedro didn’t expect to fall for you either, but 15 months working together something was bound to happen. He would offer to make you an early breakfast at 3am after the shoot day was over. It ended up with you falling asleep on the couch, then asleep on him. Pedro loved being around you and that he could be himself anytime around you.

You two knew each other for over a year, but only started dating for 4 months. You two took time jumping into anything, really getting to know each other over wine.

You sat on Pedro's couch with your feet tucked under you, wine glass resting on your leg with your left hand supporting your head as your elbow rests on the cushion. Pedro plopped next to you with his own glass, turning his body towards you as he took a sip of his wine.

"I'm really glad I'm getting to know you, Y/N. You are something special" Pedro's hand touched your leg, and you looked at him with a smile as you adjust your head, breasts bouncing in your silk dress. Pedro licked his lips softly, leaning over and putting his wine on the table, taking yours as well.

"I'm glad you're allowing me to get to know you" you touch his shoulder and rub your thumb over his shoulder. He leans over and kisses your hand, and you couldn't wait one more second.

You throw your leg over his waist, straddling him as his hand wrapped around your throat. "I was waiting for that" He smirked and pushed your head back, running his fingers down your chest and over your hard nipples poking through your dress. "I've been waiting for this" Pedro dragged his fingers up your thigh and ran his fingers up and down your folds slowly.

"Pedro.." his hard-on poked painfully hard against his jeans and you smile as you pull it out. You lick your fingers and stroke him a bit, Pedro holding your dress up.

"You wanna do this?"

"Fuck it, I want all of you"

-

You two did well hiding your relationship. Hanging out in groups who also didn't know you were together, and hiding your meet up spots. You woke up sprawled out in your bed, eyes struggling to stay open as the sun gave you no choice but to be up.

You sat up in your bed, checking your phone which had a few messages from Pedro, your manager and social media notifications. You swung your legs over your bed and stood up, getting the sudden urge to vomit every where.

Luckily the bathroom was right next to your room and you were able to make it to the toilet. You sat against the tub with your head leaned back, washcloth on your forehead. Your phone buzzed next to your butt and you pick it up, Pedro facetiming you.

"Good morning sweetheart. Are you okay? What's going on?" Pedro voice dropped into concern and you whine.

"I just started throwing up and I feel hot" you pout and Pedro stands up, sliding his shoes on.

You pick your head up as you get a notification from your period tracker app. "Hi, YN! It's been a while since we've seen y.." and your eyes widen. "I have to go, Pey"

"What? What is-" you hung up and opened the cabinet under the sink, reaching in the far back for the pregnancy tests you always had just in case. You peed on at least 5, lining them up on the counter and sitting against the floor with your knees against your chest.

Your pushed your toes against the carpet as you rock yourself back and forth, your timer making you jump as it goes off. You hit record on your phone as you held it pointed towards you, your eyes immediately welling with tears as all 5 read 'pregnant' and had 2 blue lines.

You prop your phone against the mirror and slide down the wall, just then Pedro walks into your apartment. "Babe!" he yells as he hears you crying, running to your bathroom.

Pedro's eyes find the tests immediately, squatting down next to you as he held your head. "Oh, princesa. It's okay, it's alright" he whispers and kisses your head, rubbing your arm. "I've always wanted a baby"

"But we just started dating, Pedro. Are you okay with have a baby with someone you barely know?" you sob and look at him, Pedro smiling as he brushed a piece of hair stuck to your cheek off your face.

"Baby I knew from the moment I met you that I wanted you in my life forever. I am more than okay with having a baby with you" you smile and laugh, looking at him through tears.

"We're having a baby" you mutter and he laughs, hugging you tightly as he rubbed your back.

"We're having a baby!"

-

You hit 3 months pregnant and press tours started to begin. You hadn't popped yet but you had just enough of a bump for people to know. You work a loose blue shirt with a pair of jeans and some black flats, waiting with your microphone on the side of the stage.

Pedro rubbed your arms as they called your name. You walk up the stairs and wave, heading to your seat and watching Pedro walk across the stage as you softly bit your lip.

You tried not to rest your hand on your stomach so much, and it took everything in Pedro not to rest his hand on your stomach which was his favorite thing to do as you two relaxed.

After almost 2 hours of talking, the panel was finally over. You all stood up and waved, walking towards the exit and the audience disappeared as your vision turned white.

Pedro caught you as your legs gave out, holding your body up as he held your face. "Honey, can you hear me?" his hand fell to your stomach and you blink, the room silent with clicking of cameras going off frequently. "There you are, hi beautiful" Pedro smiled at you and you close your eyes as you smile, paramedics bringing a gurney and Pedro carried you down the stairs onto it.

"My baby.." you hum and Pedro nods, looking at the paramedics.

"She hit 3 months pregnant yesterday, could that be it?" he asks as they shut the ambulance doors.

"We won't know until we check her, just hang tight" the sirens wailed, and you were off.

-

Your head rested in your head on your side as you took a nap, Pedro in a chair as he scrolled through social media. Every single place was talking about what happened, and how you were pregnant, and how you and Pedro were together.

Every single secret out in one picture. Pedro locked his phone as you woke up, immediately standing up and heading over to you and stroking your hair.

"Is our baby okay?" Pedro smiles as he kisses your forehead.

"Our baby is okay, you were just dehydrated and needed to eat. Nothing else is wrong" you sigh with a smile and Pedro swallowed. "But.. everyone knows"

You smile at the ceiling then looking at Pedro. You grabbed his hand and placed it on your stomach, his eyes soft. "Our baby is healthy, we're happy. I don't care who knows"

"I'm glad you feel that way, cause I already posted a photo of us" You laugh and he kisses you over and over, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. "I love you, sweetheart"

"I love you, Pedro" you scoot over and he lays in bed with you, and the both of you fell asleep as he held your stomach.

[courtofparrots]

Serennedy Pride Week Day 1: First Kiss

A little ficlet of Leon and Luis recovering in the hospital post-Spain

When Luis got hurt- when it looked like he had died- Leon didn’t think he’d be able to bear it this time. 

Don’t get attached he’d repeated to himself, but he hadn’t been able to help it. Not with Luis, anyway. Not with that loud personality, that charming smile, that- everything about him, really.

But Luis hadn’t died as he’d just come to find out. For once, Leon didn’t have to bear another loss, and now he didn’t know how to act.

He stood motionless in the doorway to Luis’s hospital room in some BSAA-owned facility in some corner of Europe that they had been dumped at for medical attention after the chopper had picked up him and Ashley. He’d overheard talk of another man being pulled out of Valdelobos and brought here, allegedly the only other survivor found that night. He was positive it wouldn’t be Luis. With Leon’s luck it was probably Krauser, or worse. He was so sure that when he walked into the room and saw Luis there, covered in tubes and tape and the slow but steady beep beep beep of a heart monitor indicating life, Leon had simply frozen.  

A pair of gray eyes drifted open, and Leon thought he might have stopped breathing then. A sleepy smile pulled up the corners of Luis’s mouth as he caught sight of Leon, “not dead, eh?” he croaked, snapping Leon out of his stupor. He skulked over to the bedside of the beat up Spaniard, pulling up a chair and sitting down at a reasonable distance.

“Who? You or me?” Leon asked, as nonchalantly as he could, twitching his hand in the direction of Luis’s where it was pressed against his side with an IV needle poking out of it, covered in tape that would be sure to yank all of the thin black hairs out when it was removed. He thought better of it before he could actually touch him, and let his hand drop back to his side awkwardly. Luis tracked the motion with his eyes.

“Me.” Luis said, scooting his hand to the edge of the bed and weakly raising his fingers, moving them shakily toward Leon’s dropped hand. Leon did actually reach out this time, if only because he didn’t like the way Luis was straining. He slid his hand underneath the Spaniard’s and began to rub back and forth across tan fingers with his thumb in a stilted motion, attempting and probably failing to be soothing. It was nice. The weight and warmth of Luis’s hand in his own, a simple yet invaluable reminder that Luis really had made it, even in this subpar condition.

“I wasn’t sure I was going to make it for a moment there,” Luis chuckled, “although maybe I should have been worried about you, too. You look like shit, Sancho.”

Leon couldn’t help the smirk that tugged his lips at that, “I promise you look worse.” 

They settled into companionable conversation for a moment, Leon still holding Luis’s hand- the same one he’d held when he thought Luis was experiencing his final moments, he realized. Luis told him about the extent of his injuries, a collapsed lung and lots of lost blood, and Leon filled Luis in on what happened after he left the mines. How he’d saved Ashley, and killed Saddler, how they managed to cure their plagas with Luis’s equipment.

“By the way,” Leon said after a lull, curiosity thumping in his chest, “you said we were almost something. Before Krauser stabbed you. Almost what?”

Luis looked sheepish for a second, before finally replying, “Friends. I was… I was going to say we’re almost friends.”

“Friends? It feels like a little more than that,” Leon said, flicking his gaze down to their joined hands, “doesn’t it?” 

He felt his face heat up as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Luis’s eyes were wide when he looked back up, searching his face for something. 

Maybe the hospital wasn’t the right place for a confession. Maybe thirty-six hours together and several near-death experiences didn’t qualify a bond like the one Leon felt spark in his chest every time he looked at Luis. 

Leon had tried not to get attached but he hadn’t been able to help himself. There was something there with Luis, that he hadn’t felt in… maybe ever. Leon wasn’t going to just let it go without saying anything, not when he had Luis back and safe. He’d blame it on the pain meds the doctors had given him, or temporary insanity, or something if Luis didn’t feel the same way.

The beep beep beep of Luis’s heart monitor sped up slightly. 

“What?” He asked, in barely a whisper, “more?”

“I mean, if you wanted,” Leon said, clearing his throat, “I wouldn’t mind trying. To be more, I mean.”

Luis seemed to surge forward suddenly, before wincing and falling back onto his pillow with a pained groan like he had momentarily forgotten he was badly injured. Leon took his cue.

“Easy there, Don Quixote.” He murmured, rising out of his chair and leaning into Luis’s space, one forearm braced on the pillow beside Luis’s head, a palm placed gently on his warm cheek. Leon let his eyes drop down to Luis’s lips and then back up, letting the question show in his eyes.

“Leon,” Luis rasped, “if you don’t kiss me right now, I am going to hurt you, and probably myself in the process.” 

Leon smiled into the kiss when he finally pressed their lips together, joy and relief settling behind his ribs. Luis was alive, he was okay, and he wanted to try being more. He wanted to try with Leon. 

He broke the kiss when the heart monitor turned shrill, a constant beepbeepbeep that made Leon worry he’d disconnected one of the many tubes from Luis’s body on accident, or that he was hurting him somehow.

Luis simply glared at the heart monitor as he let his head drop back onto the pillow. “Pain in my ass,” he muttered at it, “spilling all my secrets.”

Leon actually laughed; the whole situation suddenly made him feel so light. “Feeling a little excited?” He teased, and Luis blushed. It was insanely cute. 

He probably should have given Luis and his poor heart a break then, but he was too happy. Instead, he nudged Luis over and climbed into the bed with him, wrapping an arm over the Spaniard’s shoulder so that they could both be comfortable and drawing Luis’s head onto his shoulder. Luis sighed and melted into him, muscles relaxing and eyes fluttering shut. It wasn’t long before he was fast asleep against Leon’s chest.

Leon took in the deep breaths coming from Luis, the way his lips were slightly parted, the contrast of his dark lashes fanned across tan cheeks. He followed quickly into a deep sleep of his own, one of the best he’d had in years.

[fandomonetwo]

i beggest thou pardon — eddie munson

▸summary: you have an issue. eddie has a talent at acting. you have to get rid of a really sketchy guy. he has to get people to stop making up rumours about him and chrissy. a perfect problem. 

▸characters: eddie munson, fem!reader, chrissy cunningham, male!oc

▸tw: creep guy, borderline sa, an adult word or two

▸a/n: this came to me in a dream. it was a great dream. i was sad it was over

MANY OF THE students at Hawkins would say that Percy Thorn was a pretty good choice of boyfriend. He was a very tall, slightly lanky yet strong art student with a charming personality, a dazzling smile, and a 1984 Harley Davidson FXRT. Yes, he was quite a choice.

He was also an incredible egomaniac.

For the past week and a half, Percy Thorn had not once left you alone if he could help it. Lunch times, he was there. Art class, he was there. Maths and English, he was there. He was like carbon dioxide: always there, yet never wanted. 

Well, this past couple of days, he’d gone above and beyond in trying his best to ‘get you’. He’d tried the flirting, leaning against inanimate objects (and animate objects, such as poor Joseph with the glasses), pick up lines, asking his friends to ask you out for him. Nothing seemed to work. So, he tried the next option.

Touching.

First, it was an arm around your shoulders. Then pats on the head. Then a hand grab. But today, he’d been rather bold, going as far as to place a hand on your thigh. When he did that, you blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“I have a boyfriend.”

Oh, boy. You had just told Percy Thorn that you had a boyfriend. That did not exist. That was nowhere to be found. That currently had his residential address set in Narnia. You had to find a boyfriend, stat.

When lunch rolled around, you burst into the cafeteria wide-eyed, panicked, and panting. Your eyes then landed on one set person that could quite possibly guarantee your safety from Mr.-let-me-lick-my-lips-and-hope-I-look-sexy.

You beelined for the table he was currently sitting at, taking the empty seat next to him, smoothing out your skirt. 

“I’m really sorry, but I need a boyfriend.”

The man blinked once, twice, gaping like a fish. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before blurting, “I beggest thou pardon?”

It was probably the stupidest thing Eddie Munson could have said. But he was discussing Hellfire, and he was speaking in old English, and then he remembered he had a Shakespeare assignment due tomorrow, and the dominoes just kept falling. 

Eddie had never thought that someone such as yourself, a rather ethereal being that was currently spending her angelic time at a school such as this, could ever taint her reputation by breathing the same air as him, never mind sitting next to him. He was a little taken aback, evidently. 

Gareth, who was sitting opposite him, merely dropped his head rather heavily on the table, banging it a couple of times before sighing. Jeff merely pat him a few times on the back, muttering “I know, dude, I know” to the poor boy. You and Eddie both watched this with rather similar facial expressions, allowing Eddie time to process what you’d just said.

“I’m so sorry,” he backtracked. “I meant to say... what?”

“Percy Thorn won’t leave me alone, and I told him I had a boyfriend, and he didn’t believe, me, and he won’t believe me until I show him, and I know that you’re a kind of freak, no offence, but if you pretended to date me, he’d probably get the message and leave me alone because he would never try to mess with you, what with you being the devil’s spawn or something, I don’t know, but I suppose the basic gist of this is, can you please pretend to be my boyfriend so he can stop touching me?”

How you managed to say that in one breath was rather impressive, Eddie had to admit. He also had to admit that he was, in fact, not listening until you mentioned touching. His eyes narrowed when he heard that and he pursed his lips. 

See, he had his own little problem. Someone had seen Chrissy and him talking at one point in time, and now they had spread the rumour that the two were know a thing, meaning that Chrissy’s anxiety had skyrocketed when people whispered, and Eddie was getting into a lot more fights than he was before the rumours began. He’d only just had a black eye fade, and already had a threat for another one. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to go blind.

“Pissing off Percy Thorn, huh?” he murmured thoughtfully. “Hmmmm...”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, dude, take the deal,” Gareth hissed, not lifting his head from the table. 

“Sure, why not?” the metalhead smirked, and you nearly fell backwards from relief. 

“Okay,” you breathed, ready to cry. “Thank you, thank you, thank you...”

“Hey, it’s okay, sweetheart, relax.” He raised a hand to your waist, halting and asking permission with his eyes. At your soft smile and small nod, he wrapped an arm around your lower back, peeking two fingers underneath your ABBA themed baby tee. You shivered at the cool temperature of his silver rings, and were quite flustered at the heat of his skin. It was a rather beautiful contrast. 

You were a rather physically affectionate person, and were rarely uncomfortable with touch unless someone else was. But this was an Eddie-initiated thing, so you leaned into his side, placing your head just below his collarbone. His hair smelt nice, and it was gorgeously soft. He had great curls. 

“Wow, your hair is like, ridiculously nice,” you muttered. He chuckled. 

“Thanks, doll. It’s my three-in-one shampoo,” he joked. You cracked a small smile at that, it dropping as soon as you heard footsteps and turned to see the douchebag himself strutting over. 

“Well, well, well.” Percy Thorn also had a very silky voice. He could’ve been a voice actor. “We find ourselves in a predicament at the moment.” 

Gareth lifted his head from the table, his eyes slits as he glared through his own brunette curls at the leather-clad artist. “And what would that be, o mighty one?”

Percy turned up his lips, looking Gareth up and down, turning back to Eddie. “The devil’s spawn has his hands on my girl.”

Eddie raised his lips in a sarcastic grin, cocking his head. “Last I checked, she was my girl.” Eddie tightened his arm to sell the point, and you raised your hand to his, lacing your fingers. You really wanted to vomit when Percy said ‘his girl’.

Percy scoffed. “Oh, please. No one would be caught dead sharing your seat on the bus, let alone allowing themselves to be called your girl.”

“Yeah, well, the reason she is my girl is because we shared a seat on the bus, so I guess luck was on my side.”

Damn, Eddie was good at lying. You smirked a little at the little made up story. You nuzzled into his neck a little, grabbing his attention. 

“I have to go. Mrs. Craig won’t handle tardiness from anyone, not for the sake of algebra.” You swung your legs over the seat, hand still interlaced. He did the same, only with one leg. He pressed his lips to your knuckles, delighting in Percy’s absolute look of fury.

“I shall see you soon, my heavenly rose,” he bade farewell, sounding like one of the characters from the play he was meant to be analysing, Twelfth Night. You giggled a little. Even though you were only pretending, Eddie was rather funny. 

“I await the chance, fair knight,” you returned, curtseying rather clumsily. He smiled back at you. You were quite pretty when you smiled. 

You began to walk away, avoiding Percy’s look of rage when you passed. You couldn’t walk very far however, when you gasped, stopping in your tracks. Tears appeared in your eyes. 

Percy smirked, the spot where he’d slapped your butt still tingling. You’d never wear this skirt in public again. Your hand flew to the spot, trying to stop something, anything, everything from happening all at once. You spun around, hunched over a little as you kept your legs together, as though you were a cowering puppy. 

Eddie’s smile faded, replaced with a rather scathing look. The look of fear, no, distress that was on your face had him reeling. He grabbed the nearest thing, which was his lunch tray, shot up, flung his arms back, and brought the tray right on Percy’s ear. 

The art student crumbled like a sack of potatoes, yelling as he clutched his ear. Eddie stood in front of you protectively, lunch tray still clutched rather tightly in his hand. 

“You bastard.”

“Mr. Munson!” The whole cafeteria swung from looking at Eddie to looking at the teacher that had just shouted. “Principal’s office! Now!”

The brunette sighed, dropping the tray. Gareth sputtered.

“Wha- but Percy literally just assaulted her!”

“You too!” She didn’t even know his last name. 

“That’s not fair.” You were trying to help, but it was hard when you were trying not to burst into tears. 

“You know what? Life’s not fair. All three of you, go!” She pointed in the direction of the principal’s office Percy’s friends rushed to help their fallen mate.

Eddie stuck close to you the whole walk to the principal’s office. “Welp, that was an eventful relationship.” He tried joking, but it didn’t crack a smile this time.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I got you both in trouble.”

“Nah,” Gareth waved his hand, dismissing you. “It was worth it. Seeing Thorn fold like that was funny. Plus,” he wiggled his eyebrows, “Eddie’s got a girlfriend.”

“Pretend girlfriend.” Eddie cleared his throat turning a little red. Gareth shrugged and walked a bit in front of them. The metalhead turned to you, sheepishly running his hand on the back of his neck. “Sorry about him, and that whole tray smack thing.”

“It’s okay, for both things.” You said quietly. “But, uh, you wouldn’t mind being my pretend boyfriend for a little longer, would you? I’m a little paranoid now.”

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” Eddie grinned like the cheshire cat. “How about I drop you home to solidify the story?”

You smiled at that. “I’d really love that.”

Besides, he could use your help on that assignment.

[sydsaint]

I'm so down bad for him it's despicable. 😩

Summary: The reader has a helpless crush on LA Knight and doesn't know what to do with herself. That is until her bff Samantha Irvinge steps in to help.

You are hanging out backstage for Smackdown with Samantha Irvinge before the show starts. Samantha is chatting with you about plans for after the show before she gets ready to head out to the timekeeper area for the evening.

"What are you doing after the show, Y/N?" Samantha asks you casually as she fixes her lipstick with her pocket mirror. "Y/N?" She asks again when you don't answer her.

After you once again don't provide her with an answer, Samantha sets down her mirror and turns to look at you. You're sat a few feet behind Samantha and looking across the room with a dreamy twinkle in your eyes.

"Y/N!" Samantha pokes at your arm, prompting you a bit louder this time.

"Hmm?" You finally snap out of your thoughts and turn to your friend. "Sorry, what was the question, Sam?" You ask her.

Samantha quirks a perfectly shaped eyebrow at you. "Girl, where were you just now?" She asks you.

"Umm, right here. Sitting with you, last time I checked." You reply with a scoff.

"Girl, no," Samantha replies. "You were definitely somewhere else just now." She insists. "What were you staring at that was so interesting anyway?"

You watch Samantha turn around in her chair and glance in the direction you were seemingly lost in. But by the time her gaze reaches the other side of the room, whatever, or rather, whoever you were staring at is long gone.

"I was just spacing out, okay?" You claim when Sam looks back at you.

"Mhm." Samantha doesn't buy your excuse one bit. "You've been acting all dreamy-eyed and distracted for a few weeks now." She claims. "And I am going to find out who's got you so smitten. Eventually."

You shake your head with a small smile. "It's no one, really, Sam." You insist. "Now come on, we've both got a busy night.."

Samantha sighs but drops the subject for the moment so she's not late for work. She heads out to the timekeepers area in the arena and you remain backstage to conduct interviews for the night.

The camera crew shows up a few minutes later and you mingle with them for a while until you're needed. You smooth out your dress when the crew signals that you've got an interview coming up and wait to see who shows up.

"Y/N! There's my favorite girl!" LA Knight comes striding into the room with his usual confident aura and your heart skips a beat.

"LA Knight, how are you feeling after your encounter with The Bloodline earlier tonight?" You ask, quickly reading from the teleprompter set up off-screen. "Specifically your altercation with Solo Sikoa just a week out from your title match against Roman Reigns?"

You move the microphone away from your mouth and toward Knight, as he towers above you. His electric gaze meets yours and butterflies explode in your stomach.

You've done thousands of interviews with the single and very attractive plethora of men that WWE has to offer. But not one of them has managed to make you as nervous and giddy as LA Knight does by simply making eye contact and smiling at you.

"Ah, you weren't worried about me, were you, sweetheart?" Knight teases you with a chuckle that makes your knees weak. "That bigheaded brute Solo Sikoa ain't no match for The Megastar! You should know that, darlin'." He winks at you playfully.

"Right, of course." You smile to yourself, unable to stop yourself from stroking Knight's ego. "I've just been informed that General Manager, Nick Aldis has pit you in a match tonight against Sikoa, in the main event. Thoughts on that?" You ask another question.

Knight chuckles again, licking his lips as he continues to look down at you with that undeniable charm and swagger of his. "It seems to me like Mr. Aldis knows exactly what he's doing as general manager of Smackdown. He's got the megastar in the main event! Solo doesn't stand a chance against me, sweetheart. And that, honey, is just a fact of life!" He adds his signature catchphrase at the end. "Because who's game is it? Come on, sweetheart, you know."

"LA Knight's?" You can't help but answer him with a wide smile.

"Yeah!" Knight grins. "I'll catch you later, darlin'." He adds before swaggering off to get ready for his match.

You laugh to yourself, adrenaline coursing through your body like it always does after you do interviews with Knight.

Later into the night, Smackdown has come to an end and everyone is waiting to pack up and leave. Samantha catches you backstage again and the two of you chat.

"Hey, Samantha? Can I ask you something?" You ask Sam while you're both packing up to leave.

"Yeah, sure. What's up, Y/N?" Samantha nods and stops what she's doing to listen to you.

You bite your bottom lip and stop packing up your bag as well. "When you and Ricochet first started chatting? What did it feel like for you?" You ask her.

"What do you mean?" Samantha replies.

"Like...I don't know. There's this guy, you obviously know that much, Sam. I've flirted with plenty of guys before, sure. But with this one, it's different." You try and explain.

Samantha nods and scoots closer to you. "You feel like you're a mess around him? Like you're weak in the knees or have butterflies when he talks to you?" She suggests.

"Yes! Exactly!" You eagerly nod. "I've never felt like this with a guy before, Sam."

"That's how it was with Ricochet and I," Samantha explains further. "It always seemed like he knew just what to say or do. When we talked? He made me feel like the only girl in the world. And eventually, I just couldn't ignore the pull anymore." She adds.

You nod, sure that's how Knight is making you feel. And as fate would have it, Knight happens through the backstage area on his way out of the arena. You lock onto him as he walks by and that look is all Samantha needs to figure out who your mystery man is.

"LA Knight, huh, Y/N?" Samantha giggles as Knight passes by.

"What?" You reply, not realizing that you'd been staring.

Before you can get another word out to defend yourself, Knight turns around and saunters over to you and Samantha. "Well, what do we have here? A couple of Smackdown's finest ladies talking about one of my favorite subjects. Myself." He winks at you and Samantha.

"Yeah, Y/N and I were just discussing dinner plans," Samantha replies. "I had plans with my fiance tonight, so I was going to have to raincheck dinner with her. But now that you're here..." She drops a hint Knight's way.

"Well, I'd be a damn fool to leave a lady hanging when it comes to dinner." Knight chuckles. "Especially when it comes to my favorite girl. How about it, Y/N? My treat, of course."

You take a spare second to not shower Samantha with all your love and affection for being the ultimate wingwoman before you reply. "I'd love dinner, yeah." You agree to Knight's offer.

"Perfect!" Knight nods. "Well, you already look absolutely stunning. Just give me a minute to pull my car around and we'll head out." He explains.

You nod and Knight walks off. As soon as he's gone you turn to Samantha and let the beast loose. "I love you so freaking much!" You squeal in excitement.

"I know." Samantha grins as you crush her against you in a hug. "Now go have fun with the man of your dreams, girl! I want the details in the morning. If you can make it out of bed after he's done with you." She teases you.

"Samantha!" You laugh.

"What? You know I'm right." Sam continues to laugh.

[sunboki]

heyy I love your work so much and was wondering if I could join the event💜💜

love language- quality time

member- Lee know

I was wondering if you could just write a short drabble thanksss💜💜💜

-💜

lee minho x gn. reader

word count . 630 words

notes . aren’t you just the sweetest :( thank you sm for participating, i hope this piece is to your liking!

— event masterlist

Okay. It's go time. You coach yourself, awkwardly standing by the doorway to attempt calming your nerves before walking in to see your date, Lee Minho, who’s responsible for your nervousness in the first place. But seriously, it’s impossible to not be nervous when in the presence of the esteemed Lee Minho — he’s drop dead gorgeous.

Taking a deep breath, you step inside, managing to spot him sitting among chatting couples from how brightly he shines; starkly handsome.

“Hi.” You quickly greet, already stumbling over your feet while clumsily adjusting the chair, wiping sweaty palms on your legs in the process. This is an incoming disaster, you can feel it in your bones.

Fortunately, he greets you with a sweet smile, tapping perfectly manicured fingernails atop the menu.

“Do I scare you that much? I saw you at the door.”

Shit. Now you’ve done it.

And just like that, you deflate.

“..I don't want to mess things up and make you think I'm an absolute loser.” You mumble, glaring at the dessert section in hopes some miraculous courage will fuel you through.

“If I thought you were an absolute loser I’d be sitting here with Han Jisung instead.”

“‘m sure he would appreciate hearing that.” Quick witted, you reply, slow smile creeping onto your face. You failed to notice his heart eyes when he saw you lighten up.

He’s quiet, arms crossed over his chest with a taut smirk upon plush lips as his eyes flickered over your face.

“I like that.”

“What?”

“You’re acting like yourself, I like it more.”

You chew on your bottom lip, staring down before burying your face into your hands and shaking around childishly.

“It took enough courage to even make eye contact Lee Minho, you’re seriously testing my limits.” You whine, peeking between your fingers upon hearing his high-pitched, lively laugh.

Being honest, you hadn’t witnessed it much considering his usual poker-face ridden frame focused on documents — thinking of something you’d never guess. So to see him laugh was refreshing, truly. As pretty as he normally looked, seeing him laugh fully encapsulated all of the charm.

The date continued on smoother than you could’ve imagined, filled with playful banter and honeyed smiles. That is until the plates grew sparse of pastries and your cup went from full to empty. Though kindly enough, the model-off-duty offered to walk you back to your place.

“Thank god I didn’t spill coffee all over myself, that would’ve killed me.” You joke, swaying back and forth beside him, your head tilted up to the sky above. You fail to notice his heart eyes for a second time.

“Hmm, then I'd give you my coat.” He suggestively grinned, earning a light punch to the shoulder while walking along the sidewalk.

There’s a short silence, breath fogging up small puffs from the cold and you can’t help but thank whomever above for getting you this far.

“Will you give me your coat regardless?”

Wow, confidence. Where did she come from?

Minho sent you a nonsensical stare, though shaking off the clothing to drape over your shoulders all the same; his ears dusting a soft pink you knew he’d excuse as the frosty weather. Cute.

“You said this is your stop?” He halts and you skid to a stop, not even realizing how far you had gotten while caught up in conversation. You could talk to Minho for hours.

“Oh! Yeah, here’s your coat-“Keep it— for the next time we meet, I mean.”

“Next time?” You wiggle your eyebrows, dissolving into giggles as the boy lightly shoves you forward.

“Yah, just get inside.”

all rights reserved by @sunboki. repost and plagiarism will not be tolerated.

[slightlyslytherinthings]

Since when...

Warnings: Light Smut. Sebastian touching himself thinking of Y/N.

Description: Of course all aged up. There are two segments the first one is more an introduction and the secound one a light smut. Last year of the school. Sebastian being the narrator of this ff.

Please give me some feedback it is my first writing, I would love to know where I could improve. And maybe write a next part to it.

🖤🤍💚

Starting a new year and also the last year at hogwarts felt great, knowing that less than 365 days are apart until I can start a career, maybe traveling for awhile or just staying with my dearest twin Anne and with my lovely friends Ominis and Y/N. I wonder how their summer break went?

Speaking of I just seeing them standing at the great hall, "Hey Ominis! Y/N!". "There you are Sebastian, good to hear you again. Hopefully with less trouble than the last years", said Ominis, being cocky as ever. "Hey Sebastian good to see you again, totally missed you on my adventures.", as Y/N greeted me she put her arms around me to hug me thight for a moment.

Even after I spoke the death curse against my own uncle, and Ominis being mad at me, which was understandable, Y/N could manage to make him speak to me again. Not only him, she also convinced Anne to send me owls, she might even want to see me soon again. Y/N was really a true friend, after all I put her through and even after cursing that damned cruciatus curse to get out of the scriptorium, she still kept up with me and my problems. I should give it to her back somehow. Pleading of liking having friends in my debt, I'm surely forever in her debt.

Speaking of feeling her hug I noticed something different, it felt more softer and wasn't she usually bit closer? Merlin. It is her wider chest, which puts us apart, she definitely didn't had them the last two years, what was she drinking- STOP IT! I shouldn't think so inappropriate about her like that. I love her, as a friend, maybe even like a sister or even like a brother since she acts sometimes like one, maybe it was our influence, tho.

But still I shan't think of her like that, even if she truly grew more mature. Who am I to ask her out? She would be definitely better off with someone like Ominis. I must admit the thought of it feels off. Even if both of them deserved to be happy.

I gently got off of her hug, "We should go to the table, shall we?" She smiled at me with a wide grin as she went forward to the end of the slytherin table. Ominis and I followed her, he placed himself next to her and I sat towards her. Unfortunately Imelda Reyes joined us, placed her gossiping ass right next to me. Merlin help me to survive her annoying being. I always wondered how Y/N can be so friendly with her, but thinking of it since she also has no problem with my sorry ass, it might be even a greater superpower to keep up with difficult people than the thing with ancient magic itself.

➽───────────────❥

As the three of us sat outside, waiting for the transfiguration class to begin, a sudden dark cloud rain above us. I actually enjoyed the water drops running down my face, but I noticed the couple of Ominis and Y/n moving fast under the stone roof right before the classroom. "Sebastian please join us under the roof before you're getting a cold, my dear." her softly well sounding voice filled with concern rang through my ears and I followed them, like she was a siren calling a sailor of his boat.

"Are you getting cold? Your clothes are soaking wet.", she asked. "Don't worry, I just know the right spell to dry myself up." I used the hot air charm on myself. "That is a nice spell, do you mind drying my clothes too?"

Even tho she wasn't staying long in the rain, her blouse got a bucket or two full water on her and I could see her skin through it- damn it. Feeling the blood rushing to my cheeks and some other part, I also cast that spell towards her and maybe a bit to much than it needed to be. But it even made it worse, since her blouse got more pressed against her, which defined her gorgeous body even more. Merlin. Would she ever think like that of me too?

The class started and we sat- of course she had to sit next to me. It made it somehow worse, I think Ominis could start to tell that I was all over for her.

"Professor Weasley?", I raised my hand. "Ah yes, Mr. Sallow.", as she answered. I asked, "May you excuse me? I need to go to the toilet right now." - "Mr. Sallow the class just started.", she sighed. "But before an accident happeneds you're dismissed."

I stand up slowly hiding something with my cloak as much possible, I needed to go out of here, these thoughts of her wet skin... these silky fabric touching her nice silhouette, where I deeply wished she would want me to touch her- Merlin, since when had I developed such a desire for her?

I went of to a toilet stall, as fast as I shut the door and locked it. I began to unbotton my trousers and grab my little devil, starting to rubbing it. I pictured every inch of Y/n, her lips oh her sweet shaped lips.. imaging her to bite them because she would see something at me she also desired for so long. Her doe eyes which innocently hide her true nature of being a freak in the sheets.. I bet she isn't innocent at all. And Merlin these breast, what I would give to just get another glimpse. I moved my hand faster as I got more and more scenarios of her, like her blouse get lose and I could see her shoulders, she definitely would get aroused and start moaning if I could kiss them until she get bruises, enough bruises so that anyone knows she enjoys me, only me. I pressed my right hand against the door, thinking of how she would loved being pinned at it while her legs would perfect wrap around me, she would scream my name while I thrust my devil inside of her warm, wet witchhood until she can't walk or even say a word anymore. I would love to see her face while she comes, knowing that I could do that to her- "Merlin, Fuck. Y/N!"

I groaned her name a bit too loudly for a public toilet as I came in my hand. I have luck that no one was around. I cleaned myself in exhaustion and walked back to class. Y/N grin at me, when I rejoined the class.

Merlin, stop smiling at me like that again.

[bverryie]

⋮ ⌗ toxic till the end .ᐟ

Dayla Balver knew that loving Michael Kaiser was a risk, but she never expected to become just another level in his endless game. Between broken promises and reconciliations filled with empty words, she spent two years trapped in his world, orbiting his ego as if there no way out.

⋆ pairing: michael kaiser x fem!oc

⋆ word count: 2.5k

⋆ content contains: One Shot, Toxic Relationship, Established Relationship, Manipulation

masterlist │masterpost

The present disorder contrasted with its organized nature: clothes left over from the chair, a cup of cold coffee on the desk and his unmade bed. Dayla was sitting on the floor, leaning her sling against the bed, holding her phone.

The rain had always managed to calm her down, but that night she could not drown out the sound of her mind. Each drop seemed to mark the passage of minutes, full of doubts, frustration. He looked at the screen, that message shining in the dark as a temptation. He hated it for knowing how he always drew her back, for knowing his flaws better than she knew herself. And, more than him, she hated herself for not being able to ignore it.

Kaiser: "I know you’re angry. Let me explain. Call me."

She let out a heavy sigh, pressing the phone against her chest and burying her face between her knees as if she could stop the urge to respond.

If she answered it would be as always. He will say the right thing, apologize, make her believe that this time will be different. And she… she will always fall. But not this time. Not this time.

Dayla turned off her phone and placed it on the bed face down. She rose from the floor, feeling the weight of emotions with every step. She glanced at the sale and the rain falling ceaselessly behind her. For a second, the idea of Kaiser drenched in water at his door pierces her, but she shakes her head to clear that thought.

Hours later, around midnight, a knock rang on the door of her apartment. At first, Dayla ignored it, thinking it was her imagination. But the blows became more insistent.

She knew perfectly who he was without even looking through the peephole. No one else would come at this hour, no one else would have the audacity. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, walking toward the door. But not to open it. He just wanted to see that it was really him.

She peered out of the peephole and, indeed, there was Kaiser, drenched by the rain, his hands in his pockets and his expression relaxed.

He hit softly again. "Dayla, I know you’re there. You can’t ignore me all night."

"Look how I try." she whispered to herself.

"Are you really going to leave me here in the rain? I thought you were better than that." he raised his voice a little.

Dayla did not respond, though her heart was racing under her chest. He was about to walk away from the door when she heard him speak again, this time in a softer tone.

"Day… please. I just want to talk. I promise it won’t be like the last time."

Dayla closed her eyes, remembering all the times that those same words had knocked down her walls before. At last, her body acted by instinct and before she could stop, she turned the door knob.

When she opened it, the image of Kaiser was shown dripping in front of her from head to toe, his jacket taped to her body and hair messy. But her expression did not show regret, but that confident charm that always led to disarm her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked crossing her arms.

"You didn’t answer my messages. So I had no choice" he shrugged.

"You always have choices, Michael. But you always choose the one that’s right for you."

"And here I am, choosing you." he smiled.

Dayla rolled her eyes, but let it pass. Kaiser came in, leaving a trail of water on the floor. As she closed the door, she couldn’t help but think how easily she let himself be carried away by that overwhelming presence that filled every corner of the room. Though something inside her was screaming that she should stop it, this time it had to be different.

Dayla watches him from the door, arms crossed, trying not to be affected by his presence. But he had this way of moving, of occupying every corner as if it were his own.

Kaiser stepped towards her. Dayla backed away. Trying to show herself as she was. And though he knew how to approach her to make her forget every promise she had made and not kept. But this time it had to be different… even though her body seemed to disagree.

"What do you want, Michael? You made it clear that you don’t care." said Dayla coldly.

Kaiser raised an eyebrow. "Do you think so? If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t be here soaking myself to the bone."

"That doesn’t mean anything. You only come when you think you’re losing me."

"What about you? You always say you’re leaving, but you never do."

Kaiser takes another step, now closer, and sighs, dropping his shoulders. His gaze changes from arrogance to something softer, more intimate.

"I know I’ve ruined it, Dayla. I know I’m not easy… but you’re the only constant in my life. When things fall apart, I always think of you." He said in a soft voice.

Dayla squeezed her arms crossed around her body "And what do I do with that? What do I do with all the times you promised to change and never did?"

"I don’t know. But I’m here, and that has to mean something." He gently took her chin.

Dayla wanted to move her face away, but she didn’t. His fingers were cold from the rain, but the heat emanating from him was enough to make it tremble. It was as if his body remembered things that his mind tried to forget.

Kaiser draws her gently towards him, moving his hands up to his waist. She looks up, finding her eyes, and for a moment time seems to stop. There was something in the way he looked at it, as if he really saw it, as if he could tear down all the barriers he had built. And at that moment, she hated that I still had that power over her.

"This does not change anything." Dayla formulated in a whisper.

Kaiser leaned over to her. "Then stop thinking."

He kissed her before she could respond, a kiss charged with urgency, of need. She tried to resist, but finally gave in, letting herself be carried away by the heat that always found in him. The kiss began to intensify as both retreated toward the couch. Dayla pushed him slightly, trying to regain control, but fell down beside him, her lips running across his jaw and neck.

She knew she was falling again, but at that moment she didn’t care. All I wanted was to feel it, forget the words, broken promises, pain. Because in his arms, however ephemeral it was, everything seemed to make sense.

Little gasps were slipping from her lips. "Michael… this is not going to fix anything."

"I’m not trying to fix it. I’m just here with you." he whispered into his ear, provoking a million sensations.

The tension was overflowing as they both drop on the couch. Kaiser carefully placing his body on hers, guided by desire. Dayla responds with the same intensity, as if they were both looking for a solution to each other’s insecurities. Each movement was a reminder of why you could never get away from him. It was a mixture of tenderness and selfishness, love and need. And she, as always, was willing to lose herself in it, even though she knew that the void would reappear when all was done.

The clothes were starting to get in their way, as if they created a kind of barrier between their bodies, so they soon got rid of them. Both soon get tangled in each other, the rain hitting the windows harmonizing with their breaths mixing in the dark.

In the silence that followed, as his body weighed on hers, he realized that although he always returned to him, he never felt complete. And maybe, this time, it was different not because he had changed, but because something in Dayla was starting to break.

The rain poured heavily over the city, a relentless cascade that blurred the view from Dayla’s small apartment window. She sat curled up on the couch, a light blanket draped over her legs, her phone clutched tightly in one hand.

The message stared back at her, its presence taunting.

From Dayla: to Kaiser: We need to talk. Call me.

Those words had echoed in her mind for hours, a reminder of their endless game. He would show up, say the right things, make her forget everything, and then disappear when she needed him most.

She let out a frustrated sigh and placed the phone on the table, closing her eyes.

But her resolve shattered when she stepped outside hours later. He wasn’t going to answer her, not through messages or calls. She knew where to find him.

The rain had softened into a drizzle by the time she reached the soccer field where Kaiser trained. It was empty except for him. He stood in the middle of the pitch, his golden hair damp and clinging to his forehead, the bright floodlights casting long shadows around him.

Dayla hesitated for a moment, standing at the edge of the field, unsure if she wanted to confront him. But then he spotted her. His body stiffened before he slowly turned toward her, his expression unreadable.

“You didn’t answer my messages,” she said, her voice louder than she expected against the quiet hum of the rain.

“I was trying to avoid this conversation,” he admitted, his voice calm but laced with tension.

Dayla took a step closer, her arms crossed over her chest. “Of course you were. That’s what you always do, isn’t it? Avoid, deflect, disappear.”

Kaiser sighed, running a hand through his wet hair. “I didn’t want to hurt you any more than I already have.”

“You think avoiding me makes it better?” she snapped. “You think showing up and leaving whenever it suits you is better?”

His jaw tightened, and he closed the distance between them in a few measured strides. “I didn’t come here to argue.”

“No,” she said bitterly. “You never do. You just want to say whatever you think will keep me around a little longer.”

He reached out, placing a hand on her arm. “Dayla, I—”

“Don’t,” she interrupted, stepping back. “Don’t say it unless you mean it.”

His silence spoke louder than any words could.

Hours later, they were back at her apartment. Dayla sat on the edge of the couch, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as Kaiser paced the small space, droplets of water still falling from his hair onto the floor.

“I can’t lose you,” he said finally, his voice softer now, vulnerable in a way she rarely saw.

“You already have,” she replied, though her voice faltered.

He looked at her, his blue eyes piercing, and then crossed the room in two strides, cupping her face in his hands. “Why do you always have to make this so complicated?”

“Because it is,” she whispered. “Because I can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep breaking me.”

He kissed her before she could say anything more. It was urgent, desperate, a plea wrapped in warmth and intensity. Dayla tried to pull away, tried to resist the pull he always had on her, but her body betrayed her.

The hours that followed blurred into one another. Words faded into silence, and anger melted into longing. For a brief moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the world, untouchable, unstoppable.

The first light of dawn crept through the curtains, painting the room in soft hues. Dayla stirred, her muscles aching faintly, the weight of the night before still heavy on her body.

She sat up slowly, her fingers brushing against the oversized shirt she wore. It wasn’t hers. The scent clinging to it was unmistakably his.

She turned her head, looking toward the other side of the bed. It was empty. The sheets were cold, untouched, as if no one had been there at all.

A growing sense of unease pushed her to her feet. She walked through the apartment, searching for any sign of him. But there was nothing. The damp jacket that had hung on the chair the night before was gone, along with his boots. Even the floor was dry, as if he’d never been there.

Her phone buzzed faintly on the table. She picked it up with trembling hands, hoping for some kind of message, some kind of explanation. But the screen was blank.

Dayla sank onto the couch, clutching the shirt tightly to her chest. The familiar ache in her chest grew heavier as she stared out at the rain-dotted windows.

Michael Kaiser. The hurricane who always left her in ruins.

A few weeks later, they met at a café in the heart of the city. It was neutral territory, a place devoid of memories or attachments. Dayla chose it for that reason, needing a space where she could think clearly.

He arrived late, as always, with that same carefree smile that had once melted her resolve. He slid into the seat across from her without waiting for an invitation.

“What’s going on, Day?” he asked casually, leaning back in his chair.

She inhaled deeply, her hands tightening around the cup of coffee in front of her. “This isn’t working, Michael.”

He raised an eyebrow, the smile faltering slightly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean us. You and me. This… whatever it is we’re doing.”

His expression darkened, the playful light in his eyes dimming. “Why do you always have to make things so difficult?”

“Because I can’t keep being your backup plan,” she said, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. “I need something real. And you… you can’t give me that.”

“Dayla—”

“No.” She cut him off, the words spilling out faster than she could think. “You’ve made promises before, Michael. But I’m done breaking myself for someone who doesn’t even know how to stay.”

He was silent for a long moment, his gaze dropping to the table. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than she’d ever heard it. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know,” she said quietly. “But that doesn’t change anything.”

Kaiser nodded, rising from his seat. He grabbed his coat and turned toward the door, hesitating for just a moment before leaving.

Dayla watched him go, her chest tight, tears threatening to spill. She let them fall only after he was out of sight, the weight of their final goodbye crashing over her like a wave.

For once, she wasn’t the one waiting for him to come back. She wouldn’t leave the door open this time.

Because, even though she loved him, she couldn’t let him ruin her anymore.

[teaberrii]

Chapter Twenty: The Ex

Alhaitham has the looks and the smarts. He will also be the stand-in CEO for his grandfather's company for a year.

But, he's been mysteriously cursed to turn into a cat every night since his eighteenth birthday… until he meets you, an employee at his grandfather's company, who rescues him as a cat and changes him back with one kiss.

Alhaitham/You

Notes:

Cross-posted on AO3

Female reader

Chapter index at the end of chapter one

Thoma is driving Ayato home from the hospital that night when Ayato's phone goes off. When Thoma glances at his friend in the rearview mirror, Ayato is already talking to the person on the other end. The call is brief, but from the look on Ayato's face, it isn't good news.

When Ayato slips his phone back inside his pocket, Thoma asks, “Is everything okay?”

"...The lead role they offered me went to someone else."

The car slowly rolls to a stop at a red light. “Is that… bad news? I thought you wouldn’t take it.”

Ayato sighs. “I was seriously considering it.” He looks at Thoma in the rearview mirror. “You were right. I am using acting as a lifeline… but even so, I’m not doing a good job.”

“...Ayato.”

“And this call just proved my point. I know who took the role.” When Ayato tells Thoma the actor’s name, Thoma also knows who he’s talking about. A rising, young actor whose career took off when he had a supporting role in a major drama production that became extremely popular.

“Answer me honestly, Ayato,” Thoma says as the car rolls forward. “Do you really want this role? This is your last chance. If you really want it, you need to say something. There's a chance they'll reconsider."

Ayato doesn’t know what comes over him, but it’s as if Thoma’s words are the final push that leads him to make the call.

“...Yes,” Ayato says after a moment. “I’m willing to audition if that’s how they’ll make the final decision.” As soon as Ayato gets off the phone, he glances at Thoma, who has a small smile. Ayato looks out the window. “You asked me if I want to continue acting, and I do. I don’t hate it. I don’t love it. Regardless, I want to do better.”

And, he might find a more meaningful purpose behind it.

◆◆◆

You’re on a small coffee break with your coworkers the next morning when they bring up Alhaitham dropping out of the panel to determine the company’s next big production. One of your coworkers nudges you.

“Do you think you got lucky? You don’t have to make a big presentation in front of the CEO.”

If only they know you’re dating him. Alhaitham never told you he dropped out, but you can already guess why. And, if you're right, it’s a smart move.

“Are you nervous?” your coworker continues to ask. “It’s coming up in a few days!”

“Well, I’ll put my best foot forward. That’s all I can say.” Then, you pick up your coffee mug and walk out of the lounge, leaving your coworkers wondering what kind of interesting idea you’ll present this time.

You’re about to reach your desk when your phone buzzes. Once you take it out of your pocket, you see that it’s a message from your manager.

It’s urgent. Come to my office now.

What is this about?

When you reach his office and close the door behind you, he doesn’t even gesture for you to sit down.

“Is something going on between you and the CEO?”

You’re so caught off guard by the question that you say the first thing that comes to mind. “What?”

Then, he turns his laptop around and plays a short video that shows Alhaitham coming out of a room. Shortly afterward, you come out of the same room. “This was at the Awards Night, was it not?”

There is only one reason you can think of why that video exists. You remember the crazy reporter and his malicious intent of giving people keychains or charms with a small hidden camera. But… even if someone caught you and Alhaitham… who would blackmail you? And why?

Regardless, nothing could’ve prepared you for this, and you’re at a complete loss for what to say until you finally gather your nerves.

“Nothing happened that night,” you say. “Who sent this?"

"It was sent anonymously."

You almost roll your eyes. Right. Of course. 

"Isn't this illegal?" you ask. "Filming someone without their permission?"

As you listen to your manager talk, you start wondering if he’s worried about you or the company’s reputation. You agree that a CEO dating an employee doesn’t sound professional and can lead to a whirlwind of gossip. But that shouldn’t be any reason for you and Alhaitham to break up. 

“Do you know if anyone else has this video?” you ask. "Because I didn't know about this until you told me."

“I don’t, and I hope no one else does."

You want to ask if this is such a big deal. There's nothing scandalous in the video, but perhaps it's about the speculations. The rumours. Even though you're not a public figure, Alhaitham is. At least with his tenure as CEO. If it comes down to it, you or Alhaitham might have to clarify what you two were doing together.

Once you leave your manager’s office, your phone buzzes. It’s a text from Alhaitham, and you quickly enter an empty meeting room to take his call.

“...I saw the video,” he says after listening to you recall what happened with your manager. “It was also sent to me.”

Well, that's just great. Does that mean the rest of the company has seen it, too?

“Did that person want anything from you?” you ask.

“...No, surprisingly.”

That's strange. You’d thought that this person would demand money, at least.

"Let me get this straight," you say. "They just sent you a video and... that's it?"

"I have my speculation. We obviously have more questions than answers, and perhaps this is what they want."

"Playing mind games, huh? That's dirty."

“Regardless, whatever the reason, I won’t let them get away with it.” Alhaitham looks out the window. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise."

As you're heading back to your desk, you go through all of your emails on your phone. Apparently, this person is too cowardly to contact you directly. You're so busy on your phone that you don't notice Ayato and Childe walking toward you.

"Busy, busy, I see."

You look up upon hearing the familiar voice. “Ayato!”

Childe frowns. “Aren't you forgetting someone?"

“And Childe.”

“That’s better.”

You look at Ayato. “What are you doing here? Another shoot?”

"Some last-minute touches," Ayato says. "But… you might see me less often from now on."

You’re about to ask why when Childe spills the beans. “Just between us… he’s going to be busy rehearsing for a lead role.”

“A lead role… that’s huge!”

Ayato smiles. “I guess you can say I’m finally taking a step forward.”

“We’re going to be losing one of The Strays pretty soon,” Childe says. When you smile, he does too. “Well, you finally smiled.”

“Hm?”

“You looked a little down,” Ayato says. “Is everything okay?”

“...Ah. Well, sort of, I guess,” you say quietly. You lower your voice, and after telling them what happened, both of them look baffled. Then, Childe’s expression turns stern and Ayato frowns.

"That's ridiculous," Childe says. 

“As… crazy as that sounds,” Ayato begins, “You’re in good hands if Alhaitham is dealing with it.”

You sigh. “I know. But still… I’m just… a little rattled.”

“Well, it’s not just Alhaitham who has your back,” Childe says. He and Ayato look at each other. “If anything happens, we’ll be there for you. And if it’s any reassurance, I didn’t get that video… which means I doubt anyone else has gotten it, too.”

“...I hope so.”

“My, what a crowd.”

You recognize the voice almost immediately. When you turn around, your guess is right. "Kaeya!" Tighnari is beside him, holding a laptop. “And Nari!”

“Hiya.”

Kaeya’s eyes don’t stay on you for long. He glances at Childe, who’s looking at him with a small frown.

“Today is just full of surprises,” Childe mutters.

Kaeya chuckles. “You’re right. Good surprises, though.” He looks at Ayato. "You must be Kamisato Ayato."

The two men shake hands as Ayato says, "Yes. And you are...?"

"Kaeya. Kaeya Alberich."

“What brings you here?” you ask.

“We had a meeting for Sumeru Geographic,” Tighnari says.

“It couldn’t have been online?” Everyone turns to Childe.

Then, you and Tighnari glance at each other. In an attempt to break the semi-awkward silence, Tighnari says, “In-person meetings are usually better, don't you think? You get to see everyone's faces.” When Childe frowns at him, Tighnari wonders if he said something wrong.

“Lumine told me you aren’t coming to the party,” Kaeya says. “It’s a shame.”

You look at Childe as he says, “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll still be there. Maybe just not in the way you expect.”

“...That doesn’t sound slightly threatening,” you say quietly.

Kaeya smiles. “Well, you’re always welcome.”

“We should get going,” Tighnari says. “We have another meeting.”

As Tighnari and Kaeya walk off, Ayato says, "He's quite charming."

“A fake pretty boy,” Childe mutters.

You and Ayato glance at each other, and Ayato swings an arm around Childe. You pat his back.

“So... about what you said earlier..." Then, you lower your voice. "Does this mean you're infiltrating a party as a cat? What an exciting life.”

“Truly living the dream,” Ayato adds. "It would make a great series. Childe's Catventures. A catchy title if I do say so myself."

Childe frowns. "Oh, I'm sure it'll be a hit until I claw someone's eyes out."

"Hopefully not Kaeya's," you say quietly, and Childe gives you a deadpan look.

As you and Ayato smile at each other, Childe’s phone goes off. You watch him answer it, and his face quickly turns serious.

“What do you mean we lost some of the footage?”

A pause.

“...Uh huh. Yeah.” Childe looks at Ayato. “Yeah, I’m with him right now. Sure. We’ll be right there.” As soon as Childe gets off the phone, he says, “One of the interns accidentally corrupted the audio file for the scene we just shot, and now there’s no sound. They’ve already tried fixing it, but nothing’s working.”

“I suppose this means we have to reshoot,” Ayato says.

Childe sighs. “Yes, but the problem is that the actress has already left. They can’t get in touch with her.” Then, he looks at you and smiles. “Do you happen to have time right now, Mademoiselle?”

“...You aren’t asking me to act, are you?”

“It's just a small scene. You'd be the closest person we have who can pass as the original actress." Childe gives you an innocent, desperate look. “Please?”

Can you really say no?

◆◆◆

It's the first time Signora has been to the CEO's office, but she has mixed emotions. Alhaitham had reached out to her directly, saying that there was a matter he wanted to discuss with her. The only problem is that he never specified what it was.

She knocks on the door. As soon as she hears “come in”, she opens it and sees Alhaitham sitting at his desk with a stern expression.

“...You wanted to see me?” she asks.

“Take a seat.”

When she does, Alhaitham turns his laptop to her and plays the video. “...This video was sent from your laptop.”

Not even five seconds in, Signora looks puzzled. “What is this?”

Alhaitham turns his laptop back. “You tell me. This was in my inbox this morning.”

Signora holds up a hand to stop him. “Hang on. You’re saying that someone sent that video using my computer?”

“...Are you saying you didn’t send it?”

Signora was walking along an empty corridor, looking for her way back to the main hall for the Award ceremony when she heard faint voices. When she looked around the corner, she saw Alhaitham coming out of a room. As soon as he disappeared down a set of stairs, Signora saw you walking out of the same room. S he raised a brow. Well, that wasn’t suspicious at all.

“I saw the news about that reporter hiding cameras in keychains he gave to people that night.”

“You took one from him?” Alhaitham asks.

“I had no idea there was a camera in there. So, when I saw the news, I had a friend look into it. He took the keychain apart and got whatever footage that stupid camera recorded.”

“...A friend?”

"I know he didn't watch any of it. I was with him."

“So, you never saw this video.”

“No," Signora says. "I admit I saw you and her that night. I never knew it was caught on camera.” She looks him in the eyes. “It wasn’t me who sent that video to you.”

“What about your friend?”

“...Dottore?”

When Signora stays quiet, Alhaitham says, “You look a little conflicted.”

“I don’t see why he would do this.”

Her guess is as good as his. Alhaitham hasn't the slightest clue about who this person is, but you must know him… right?

◆◆◆

You sigh out of relief as soon as the shoot is over. It's a small scene, but the mental fatigue is kicking in.

“Was this your first time in front of a camera?"

You turn to Ayato who’s still in costume. “Does posing for normal photos count?” you joke.

Ayato smiles. “You’re a natural.”

“Ah, you’re too kind, Ayato. But thank you. I did my best.”

“Well, I’d say you two are a hit.” Childe walks up to you and Ayato. “The director likes this better than the one that was originally filmed.”

“You also worked hard, Childe,” you say.

“It’s the first time I saw someone do a complete rewrite on the spot,” Ayato adds.

Childe waves his hand dissmisvely. 

Then, your phone starts going off. At first, you think it’s something for work. Well, you aren’t completely wrong.

Oooh, they’re cute!

I’d buy the snack they’re advertising hahah

They look good together

When you finally find the source of the comments from your colleagues, you're getting an influx of messages from people joking about whether you're changing careers or making your "much anticipated" acting debut. Someone had taken a short clip of you and Ayato together on set and shared it internally, getting tons of reactions.

Well, you guess it’s better than the other video going viral.

When you get an incoming call from Alhaitham, you quickly step aside to take it.

“...Do you know someone named Dottore?”

You stiffen at the name. “Why do you ask?”

After he tells you what he learned from Signora, your jaw almost drops. It sounds like something that only happens in fiction. You should know. After writing so much of it, after all.

Alhaitham says your name which makes you say, “I… yeah, I do know someone named Dottore.” You sigh. “...He’s my ex.”

Alhaitham unconsciously grips his phone tighter.

◆◆◆

You're heading to your school reunion after work, but your mind is on other things. Perhaps Dottore heard about you from Signora. You were also on TV. There was also the photo incident with Ayato. In other words, it feels like you're a public figure now with everything that's happened.

The thought of Dottore possibly stalking you is enough to give you goosebumps. Thinking back to when you first got together... he might've already shown some questionable behaviour.

It was like a scene out of a movie. Dottore had you caged against a locker in an empty hallway. Both of you had arrived earlier than usual for school. You were here to study at the library for your first-period test. Dottore was here to work out.

“I couldn’t hear you,” he said, leaning closer to you. “Could you say it again?”

You were a blushing, nervous mess. It only took about half a year for the guy you’ve been crushing on to notice you.

“...I… I like you.”

Dottore smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes.  “I like you, too, kitten.”

Once the bus doors open, you quickly get off and head toward Lambad’s Tavern. You bump into Dehya on your way there, and you let her rant a little about what's been going on at work before she picks up that you seem a little off. After telling her what happened, Dehya is at a loss for words.

“Good God. That's like... borderline threatening."

"It definitely messes with your mind," you mutter.

“I agree he could've easily heard about you, but how would he know who your manager is? That's stalker behaviour."

You push open the doors to Lambad’s Tavern when you hear, “Oh, c’mon, Collei. Don’t be like that. We’re all old friends, aren’t we? Besides, he’s in town just this week!”

You face forward and you freeze upon seeing the red eyes that once made your heart race.

“Long time no see, kitten.”

◆◆◆

Back at the office, Alhaitham has just finished a meeting. He closes his laptop and rubs his tired eyes. Is there a possibility Dottore will show up at your reunion tonight? Just as Alhaitham mulls this over, he gets a notification that the semi-viral video of you and Ayato got taken down. 

You’d told him about it, including the story behind it. While Alhaitham is proud of you for stepping out of your comfort zone, he's bothered by the comments. You and Ayato look good together? Alhaitham takes that as you and Ayato are professionals. Still, Alhaitham sighs. Maybe it won't bother him as much if people know about your relationship.

How long will this secret relationship continue?

Bzzt. Bzzt.

Kaveh: Hey junior. Up for a drink tonight?

A drink, huh? That doesn’t sound like a bad idea.

Where?

Kaveh: Lambad’s Tavern 😀

Chapter Twenty-One

Tag list: @suoshiii @lordbugs @seirenspinel @lxry-chxn @sakiimeo @ash-in-lavender @ceylestia @deathkat657 @forsh4dow @kalpie @elernity @sentieence @chichibleeps @sunsethw4 @hjjks @nqctre @just-simping-over-genshin @tanspostsblog @uchihaeirin @vynbin @ayanokomu @dksfl920 @alatus1808 @itztaki @thetwinkims @imkaaayy @angeilix @starlighttotheleft @letthewindlead @thelonelyarchon @certaindreampost @winterpein @theprinceofkhaos @vvyeislazzy

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Best Lies || Max Burnett

Summary: The first time you met Max you were a cyber security specialist for your family company, a leader in the tech industry. Max was the reason that life was shattered and your career down the drain. When Max returns to your life in need of your help you find yourself needing to decide whether people truly deserve second chances. Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, where to begin...there's criminal activity (cyber crime, trafficking, conning), violence, sexual themes, plot twists. WC: 9.4k

You looked around the auditorium and saw which students were paying attention and which were busy doodling in their notebooks. Wrapping your knuckles on the podium, a few heads darted up and you pinned them with a knowing look before continuing your lecture. “The brain is a complex computer that is constantly uploading information from the world around you, mostly subconsciously. It’s function is to keep you alive, and that means it is searching for signs that something is amiss.

“There is a reason people trust their instincts, it is the brain accepting the information it has received and deemed something to be safe. But, with some manipulation and understanding, the brain can be lied to.

“Now, who can tell me what the best lies are?”

The bell indicated the end of the lecture and the students all began closing their books or packing away their laptops. There was no keeping their attention for a minute longer and you spoke louder so they could hear you over the noise. “Next week we will be discussing how to lie to the brain, so read up on the material that will be emailed out to you this evening.”

Most of the students had already disappeared before you had unclipped the microphone from your lapel and you gathered the textbook you had used for reference only to find a man sitting comfortably in the front row. He definitely wasn’t one of your students, with his expensive cashmere overcoat and shiny loafers. He screamed ‘investment banker’ or ‘hedge fund manager’.

“The ones that hold a kernel of truth,” he said as he stood up. “To answer your question.”

“Yes, Max, I don’t need to be reminded that you are the best liar I had the displeasure of meeting.” You closed the textbook with a little more force than was needed before taking a deep breath as he closed the distance between you. 

He turned up the charm as he smiled at your reaction and his eyes darted to your lips. “From what I remember, there was a lot of pleasure involved.”

You shoved the book into your satchel and zipped it shut before crossing your arms. “Cut the bullshit. You didn’t come here for a stroll down memory lane.” 

“Aw, I mean, I wouldn’t say no if you wanted to really relive those nights,” he said with an arrogant snicker as he ran his knuckle across your cheek. When he received no reaction from you he dropped the act and stepped back with a sigh. “I need your help.”

A laugh erupted at the admission and you held a finger up to stop him talking further. “So let me get this straight. You, Max Roberts, the man who single handedly ruined my life, wants my help?”

“It’s Burnett, actually, and I wouldn’t say I ruined your life, professor.” He spun around with his arms out and looked at the huge auditorium that had only minutes earlier been packed with hundreds of students. “Things worked out pretty well for you.”

“Of course, not even your name was real.” You scoffed to yourself. “I’m doing so well; I’m only estranged from my family, unable to form any meaningful relationships because I trusted the wrong man and in therapy twice a week. Yeah, it worked out really well.” You rolled your eyes and turned away but he caught you by the hand and stopped you. 

His thumb caressed your knuckles and a flash of surprise flitted across his features before he hid it. “You still wear the ring.”

You tore your hand from his and shoved it in the pocket of your blazer but it was too late. “It serves to keep me from making the same mistake twice. Now leave before I call security.”

“You know, it wasn’t all a lie.” He reached into his pocket and pulled something out. His fist uncurled and your breath hitched at the diamond wedding band that matched the engagement ring on your finger. “I wouldn’t have bought this if it was.”

You shook your head vehemently as the spotlights hit the diamonds and they sparkled brightly. “You’re still lying.”

“Did you ever take it to a jeweller?”

“Why would I do that?” you asked with a scoff. “So they could laugh at me too when they tell me it's worthless.”

“Look, I know I’m a terrible person, I won’t argue with that, but I messed up.” He looked genuinely guilty as he dipped his head and peered sheepishly through the long dark strands that fell over his eyes. “I was…myself when I was with you.”

A familiar burn of resentment grew when your foot lifted to take a step forward but you caught yourself before you could move closer to him. Like the sun, it was impossible not to fall into his orbit but you fought the pull of gravity. “I think you are starting to believe your own lies.”

The doors at the back of the room opened and Professor Stafford walked in with his briefcase and an arm full of textbooks to prepare for his lecture of Criminology 401. The arrival brought back your common sense and you swung your bag over your shoulder before jerking your head to the other exit. 

“My office,” you ordered, knowing delaying the conversation would only mean he found you at another point in time. You would give up your free hour between lectures in the hopes you wouldn’t have to see his face ever again.

Max looked curiously around the room, lingering on the bookshelf, before he dropped into the chair across from your desk and crossed his ankle over his knee. Those intelligent blue eyes took in everything and you could practically see the cogs in his brains turning with what he was learning in the silence. 

“What do you want, Max?”

He let a small piece of his perfect facade fall away so you could see the fear in his eyes as he leant forward. “I have a problem, one that is time sensitive, and you’re the only person that can help me.”

You should have outright refused, in fact the words were on the tip of your tongue but instead you asked, “And if I don’t?”

Max licked his lips and tried to smile but it was constricted to a small twitch at the corners. “Then my lawyers will be in touch to settle my estate and you will once again be very, very rich.”

“It’s the least you could do after what you did to my family,” you growled but the words tasted bitter at the thought of him being dead, even though you had wished for that very thing on your darkest nights.

“I know, I know.”

“Your little posse of thieves could surely help you out, you were awfully chummy with them. What do you need me for?”

Max sucked the air between his teeth and pursed his lips. You were suddenly nervous and reached for a pen to fidget with while you waited for him to speak. “I had a job lined up with a bank, but the man I had on the inside had an accident. He was a security analyst.”

The pen in your hand lost balance and tumbled onto the desk as you bolted to your feet.  “No, no fucking way, Max! I am not a con artist, and I’m not going to be a part of this.”

He pointed to the wall of framed qualifications as he argued, “You know it all already, you studied this. Freud, Festinger, Bandura.” He listed off the authors of the works that filled your bookshelf.

“And before this I was an expert in cyber security but it still didn’t stop what you did to me. It was humiliating, Max, you ruined my name. Do you understand that? Do you even stop to think about the innocent people you have hurt while you play dice with their lives?” You already knew the answer as you spun your chair to look out over the campus beyond the window. “I only studied Cognitive Psychology so I could understand how you could make such a fool of me.”

Max’s shoes were quiet on the carpet as he rounded the desk and turned your chair to face him. Dropping to his knees, he bowed his head until it rested against your knee and your fingers itched to run through his hair just to see if it was still as soft as it used to be. 

“I’m sorry,” Max murmured, the words so foreign from his lips that you couldn’t comprehend he had even said them until he repeated himself over and over. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

You didn't want an apology. In all the years since he had ghosted you and left behind a steaming pile of muck you only wanted one thing, an answer. “Why?”

Max sat back on his heels and wrapped his arms around his knees as he looked up at you, his lips parting only to close again as he struggled to formulate the words. “I was scared.” You waited for him to expand but the silence dragged on until you cleared your throat and lifted your brows, spurring him to continue with a proper explanation. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Not to me,” you growled, angered by the question.

“I fell in love with you, goddammit. It wasn’t meant to happen, but it did and…I ran.”

“You ran, that’s the understatement of the century,” you huffed as a headache began to form at your temples. 

“I know it's not what you want to hear, but the reason you believed everything I told you was because too much of it was the truth.”

Those were the best lies. And goddamn if it wasn’t working again as you felt the instinct to believe him even after all he had done. No matter how well one trained the brain, the heart was still easily betrayed. 

“Your life is really in danger?” you asked quietly as you worried on your bottom lip. “No lies.”

“Cross my heart,” he said with a morose nod as he drew his finger across his chest. 

The debate in your head was far shorter than you would have liked for such a monumental decision but you couldn’t stand idly by knowing you might be able to save him from whatever mess he had got himself into.

“If I do this, I never want to hear from you again. If you see me in the streets, you pretend you don’t know me.” He looked ready to argue but another glare kept his lips sealed before he nodded. “Okay, tell me what you need me to do.”

The cheap polyester pantsuit itched your legs with each step into the Hartmont Brough Bank and you tugged your lanyard out to show your staff ID to the security guard. The sleepy man barely looked up from his newspaper before hitting the buzzer to let you into the office space behind the tellers.

“You must be the new cyber security analyst,” a portly gentleman greeted with a smile while looking for your name tag. 

“Ashley Jenkins,” you lied smoothly.

Confidence, that was the key. If you looked shady or uncomfortable the alarm bells would start ringing in the manager's head. 

“Welcome to HBB, Miss Jenkins. I’ll show you to your cubicle and get you introduced to the team. It is rather small but they are close knit.”

He continued to rattle on about the office dynamics and where to find the bathrooms and the staff room. You barely paid any attention as you scanned the office space and watched the other staff interacting.

“Here you are.” He finally came to a stop at an empty booth and gave him your thanks as you stepped inside to open the laptop that was ready and waiting. “Email should be set up already but if you have any issues call down to IT.”

“I think I can take it from here,” you said, probably knowing more about fixing computers than the IT team anyway. 

You were left to settle in and run through a checklist of audits, scanning each system for any malware or vulnerabilities. With a name like Hartmont Brough it was no surprise the clients of the bank were the top 1% of the wealthiest men and women in America and they expected their money and investments to be protected by the best.

It was worryingly easy to slip back into the life you had left but if you had used your real name there was no chance the company would have hired you. The entire tech industry used your family name as a cautionary tale or, more appropriately, a horror story. All because of Max and the sweet lies that rolled off his tongue like honey.

The modest apartment that had been rented under your fake name smelt like heaven when you opened the door. After the long day spent learning the names of everyone in the building the last thing you wanted to do was cook but you lost your appetite at seeing Max standing in your kitchen. 

Hearing the door open, he looked over his shoulder and smiled. “Welcome home, sweetheart. How was your day?” 

You dumped your handbag on the table and shrugged off the blazer before crossing your arms. “What are you doing here, Max?”

“Making your favourite,” he said, showing you the contents of the frying pan before tossing them expertly in the air to catch them. 

Your scowl softened as you sashayed towards him, his bottom lip tugging between his teeth as he watched your hips swaying intently. Reaching past him, you turned the stove off and ran your hand up his arm to his chest. A smirk grew on his lips and he stepped back as you gently pushed him out of the kitchen. 

Max walked backwards past the table and the curve of his lips only grew as he came closer to your bedroom door. There was only a moment of surprise when his feet crossed the threshold and he turned to see you had led him to the hallway before slamming the door in his face. 

“Thanks for dinner!” you called out as you shoved the deadbolt across and went to enjoy the hot meal he had made. 

It was late by the time you had finished creating a fake social media presence in case anyone at work looked into ‘Ashley Jenkins’ but the next job couldn’t wait until tomorrow. 

All the hardware stores that you drove past were closed but you found what you needed at Walmart and made your way back to the apartment to change the barrels in the door lock. Knowing Max, he would have no qualms about letting himself in again and you would probably wake up to find him lounging on his side of the bed.

No, not his side of the bed. The other side of the bed. He didn’t have a side anymore.

A headache was forming from lack of sleep and the coffee from the staffroom was nowhere near strong enough to survive on. Your nights were spent recording lectures and readings along with marking papers and answering questions that your students emailed in. It had only been two weeks and you weren’t sure how you were going to keep this up when Max had given no timeline on when his con was going to be complete. 

“...what can I say, happy wife, happy life,” a familiar voice trickled through the office and you shook your head. 

“Great, now I’m hearing his voice,” you muttered under your breath before taking another gulp of the burnt filter coffee. 

“It was nice to meet you, Mr Jenkins.”

The headache seemed to explode from your head and manifest into a 6 foot man that was grinning as he carefully waved to your manager, two takeaway cups of coffee in his hands and a brown paper bag tucked under his arm. 

“That had better be a triple chocolate muffin,” you grumbled as you took the bag from him. The mouthwatering scent of the freshly baked treat wafted up as soon as you opened the bag and a moan slipped past your lips when you confirmed it was exactly what you had been hoping for. 

Max bent over you to place one of the barista coffee cups on your desk and his cheek brushed yours from the closeness. “Now why don’t you introduce your husband to your colleagues, sweetheart?”

You controlled the burst of anger that rose in your chest and suppressed the urge to roll your computer chair over his toes as you adapted to the new information he had conveniently left out in all the conversations you had. “That wouldn’t be very professional of me, honeybun.”

Unfortunately, the others in the office were drawn to the smell of strong coffee and baking and their heads popped up one by one but there was one in particular that Max zeroed in on. 

Brent Mathers, Relationship Manager and the answer to the question you had been wondering since you arrived. Brent was the mark. 

You locked your computer before pushing the chair back and felt the warmth of Max’s hand on the small of your back, a familiar weight you had once leaned into and almost did on reflex. The heat grew as his hand remained fixed to you while you introduced him to your team, making your way closer to the mark. 

He had obviously done his research, but you expected nothing less from Max, and he casually managed to work Brent’s interests into the conversation until they were chatting like old friends. It was a reminder of how easy it was to fall under Max’s spell and the wake up you needed to move away from his electric touch.

“No way,” Max gasped with false surprise and threw his hands up. “I have season tickets to the Knicks but Ash won’t come with me and I hate going on my own.”

“I would rather waste my time doing anything other than watching basketball. And, on that note, I am going back to work.” You pressed a quick peck to Max’s cheek before heading off.

“See what I have to deal with,” Max joked, earning a laugh from Brent. 

“Well, if you ever want some company I won’t turn down a seat at the game.”

“I’ll hold you to that. Here, lemme get your number, there’s a game Friday if you’re up for it?”

And he was in. Game, set, match. Max had won and Brent didn’t even know it.

“You’re a natural, baby,” Max purred in your ear as you walked him to the elevator after he had successfully wormed his way into Brent’s life. “Improvising like that isn’t easy. I’m proud of you.”

You wished you could blame the tremor in your hands on the caffeine in your system but you wouldn’t lie to yourself. Especially not when the elevator arrived and Max dipped his head to yours and kissed you with lips that were just as soft and full as you remembered. 

Brent wasn’t the only one in trouble.

Your finger hovered over Max’s phone number and you chewed your bottom lip as you debated tossing the phone from your reach but common sense lost and you pressed the green button. If you had changed your mind it would have been too late as he answered on the second ring.

“It’s late.”

“Can’t sleep.” 

There was a constant hum in the background and you wondered if the call had dropped from how long he was silent for. Maybe he was watching the same window to the past when you would call him during your night shifts, or maybe he was distracted by whatever life he had outside of the con. 

“You called me,” he finally said before you heard the squeal of tires and a honk of a car horn. 

“I know. I,” you caught yourself and sighed as you stared at the phone, the seconds of the call growing, “nevermind, I shouldn’t have done that. Goodnight Max.”

“Wait,” he called out, a thud echoing in the background. “I’m outside.”

The buzzer rang a second later and you tossed the blankets back to answer the door, still not quite believing it was Max on the other side until it swung open. The phone was still pressed to his ear and you both flinched at the high pitch whine they made before ending the call and you laughed nervously. 

“I didn’t think you would come.”

Max stepped inside with a lopsided grin and kicked the door closed. You had been frozen at his arrival but his entrance had left his body almost flush to yours and he closed that distance by curling his arm around your waist and tugging you against him. 

The words about to fall from your mouth were stolen as his lips crashed against yours and you forgot what you were going to say when your hands came to rest on his hard chest. Your lips parted as he deepened the kiss and you ceded control to him when his tongue danced with yours. 

Clothes disappeared with each step towards your bedroom and you lost yourself as your hands acquainted themselves with Max’s body. 

“This was a mistake,” you whispered to the dark room, unsure if Max was still awake or not while you lay in his arms, your head on his chest. 

“People like us don’t make mistakes, we make choices and we stand by them. You knew what would happen if you called me and you still did it,” he murmured back with a deep, sleep-laden voice. His arm curled tighter around you as he rolled onto his side and tipped your head back so you could see his eyes boring into you in the dim moonlight. “But if we had to choose a mistake, mine would be that we didn’t do this sooner.”

You closed your eyes and brushed your lips softly against his before speaking, “It won’t happen again anyway. You’ll be gone soon, off to your next con and I will go back to my real job.”

He caught the hint of bitterness in your tone and propped his head up on one hand while the other traced delicately along your spine until goosebumps prickled across your skin. “Can you go back, after this month, could you really go back to being a boring professor? You can’t tell me you haven’t enjoyed the thrill.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you said as you sat up. “It’s wrong.”

Max groaned and flopped back on the pillow. “You can’t cheat an honest man.”

“That hurts,” you grumbled, grabbing your silk robe to cover yourself and put space between you both.

“Y/N, I didn’t mean you.” He crossed the room and trapped you between his body and the wall. “You were never the mark, sweetheart.”

“I was just collateral. Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

Max sighed and dropped his forehead to yours. “I’ve apologised already, what else do I have to do to make it right?”

You took a deep breath and looked him dead in the eyes. “Tell me everything.”

Max sucked in his bottom lip as he pushed off the wall and walked over to the window to see the city sprawling below. “Only if you quit. Quit your job and work with me.”

“I can’t just quit!” 

Max’s frown reflected on the glass before he faced you. “You can, you just don’t want to. You’re afraid.”

“I am not,” you argued before sighing in defeat. “Okay, maybe a little, but the last time I trusted you it bit me on the ass.”

Max’s shoulders dropped and he took a heavy seat on the edge of the bed. His fingers laced together and he leaned forward on his elbows deep in thought. 

“Brent isn’t the mark.” You blinked dumbly at his admission, waiting for him to continue. “He has two clients who have amassed their considerable wealth by trafficking sex workers to Europe using their shipping companies.”

“You’re suddenly a philanthropist?”

“God no,” he scoffed. “I’m not planning on taking them down. I just need to get their contact details and pass it on to the people who want it, badly. They can deal with them.” 

You nodded in understanding. “The people who are threatening you.”

“I’m going to clone Brent’s phone at the game Friday night, give it to the boss and get the hell out of New York.” He finally looked up from his hands. “I want you to come with me.”

Friday Evening

“It will be highly encrypted so the cloning could take a while, half an hour at the most, and the devices need to remain close to each other, working 2-3 feet,” you explained again to make sure Max fully understood the parameters of the clone phone. “If they are separated, the copying will pause for up to 30 seconds. If they don’t come back within range in that time then you will have to start again.”

Max straightened the cuff links at his wrists before centering his tie and nodded. “I got it. How do I look?” 

You slipped the phone into his pocket and plucked a wayward piece of lint from his shoulder before flattening his collar a little more. “Criminally sexy.” 

Max smirked and patted his pockets to feel his keys, wallet and phone. “The game should be finished by 9.30 and I’ll meet you at the Rose Park Motel at 10.”

“Be careful,” you murmured as your stomach twisted in knots. 

“Always,” he said softly, cupping your cheek in his palm. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.” You swallowed the lump in your throat as he walked out of the apartment that had been boxed up in a matter of hours last night. If everything went to plan you wouldn’t be coming back here again. 

You sat in front of your laptop, the last item waiting to be packed and finished what you had been typing before hitting enter and closing the lid. You zipped the bag shut and slung it over your shoulder ready to leave for the last time before feeling your phone ring.

“Mr Hansen?” you answered, confused at the call out of work hours.

“Oh, Ashley, thank god you answered,” he rushed out. “I really need your help. Can you come to the office?”

“Yeah, of course, I can be there in 15 minutes.”

“Good, great, thank you,” he stammered before hanging up in a hurry.

Head office should have been empty when you arrived but most of the cyber security team, the senior leadership team and the bank’s lawyers were bustling about when you pulled your chair up. 

“…no ransom yet…”

“…targeted every weakness…”

“…could it be Anonymous?”

You peered across at Floyd in the cubicle next to you and found intricate lines of code filling his screens as he searched for the hacker that had compromised the bank's software. “Do they really think Anonymous hacked the bank?”

Floyd barely looked up from his screens as he continued to type and talk, “No idea but, if it is, it makes you wonder who the rich folk are that use this place. Anonymous don’t waste their time looking into petty crime if you know what I mean.”

You scooted closer and whispered, “You think there’s dodgy stuff going on?”

“Who knows?” he said with a shrug before pausing to turn to face you. “I just know that we have dealt with black hat hackers before but this has the suits proper scared.” 

Floyd focused on something over your shoulder and spun back to his screen as the heavy feet of Damien Hansen arrived. “Ashley, I need you to focus on the Online Portal system and make sure it hasn’t been compromised, as I’m sure you’re already aware of the situation.”

“On it,” you confirmed as he ran a handkerchief over his clammy forehead and rushed into the conference room where the lawyers were waiting. 

Cracking your knuckles, you logged into the computer with your credentials and got to work. Two hours passed by in the blur as you checked the code of the Online Portal system for any tampering and just as the clock was about to strike 10pm a cheer rose from Toby’s desk opposite. “It’s gone!” 

The entire office seemed to swell as one of the owners and his posse of lawyers surrounded the small cubicle while Toby explained the virus had ‘expired’. 

Floyd leaned back in his chair and stuck his head past the privacy barrier between your desks. “No one makes a program as complex as that and sets a timer for it to end.”

“It makes no sense,” you agreed despite checking the lingering trace yourself and seeing that was exactly what had happened. “Unless it’s a warning?”

“You there, Miss, what do you mean ‘a warning’?” Mr Hartmont asked as he fixed his eyes on you from Toby’s desk.

You looked around and shied away as all the attention was suddenly on you before clearing your throat and giving your opinion, “Well, there was no ransom and it didn’t target the personal details of the clients. What if it was just getting a layout of the system as a whole?”

The co-owner narrowed his eyes and you looked at Floyd for backup. 

“Imagine a military operation,” Floyd said. “Before launching an attack they do the reconnaissance work so they know what they are heading into.”

You mouthed ‘thank you’ to Floyd as Mr Hartmont’s eyes widened in understanding. “That is something we will certainly take into consideration when we decide our next move.”

The hoard of suits retreated back to the conference room except for Mr Hansen who came and thanked each of your co-workers. “We will need some of you to work through the night, just while we are on high alert, but you will be well compensated.”

“Shotgun!” Floyd called with a grin at the thought of a bonus pay followed by Jessica and Danny. 

“No thanks,” you said with a yawn. “My husband will be waiting up to tell me all about the Knicks game. Actually, on second thought I’d rather work than hear about that.”

The guys laughed and shook their heads but Jessica gave you a look of commiseration before waving you off. 

“Thanks again for coming in,” Mr Hansen said as he walked you and Toby to the elevator. “You are both real assets to the company. Enjoy the rest of your weekend, see you on Monday.”

You parted from Toby in the staff car park with a polite goodbye before racing to the motel Max would be waiting at. 

Your palms turned clammy against the steering wheel and your pulse quickened at the nervousness that was festering. 

You were running late. 

What would Max think?

Your phone had been tossed into the East River as you crossed over so your location couldn’t be traced. Someone would surely start looking when you didn’t show up at Hartmont Brough Bank on Monday morning, not that they would find anything. 

You pulled into the Rose Park Motel and looked for Max’s sleek Mercedes but found most of the spaces empty and the others had rusted, beat up cars in them. 

Your watch said 10.22pm.

“Where are you, Max?” you asked under your breath before walking to the motel reception. “I’m looking for my husband, he booked a room here. Maxwell Roberts?”

The woman sitting behind the desk rolled her eyes and tucked her strangely hair behind her ear. “If your husband booked a room here it ain’t to bring his wife.” She pointed to the sign on the wall that had the room charges per hour. “Sorry, honey.”

She gave you a look of pity but you ignored it as you reached into your pocket and placed a few crumpled notes on the table. “I’ll take one for an hour, please.”

There was no surprise she didn’t take any of your details down, not when you saw a hooker stumble into the reception with a client. They wouldn’t want to use the motel for their illegal soliciting if they had to leave a name and credit card for ID. 

Taking the key that was slid across the chipped formica countertop you made your way to the room, only stopping to grab your laptop from the car. 

The room was as dank as you expected and you chose to use the rickety drawers as a stand up desk rather than sitting on the bed and risking whatever bugs and fungi lurked in the blankets. The wifi was insecure and slower than you were hoping but it would be enough to find what you were after. 

Max would have thrown his cell phone away before he even got to the game and kept only the clone phone that held all the information he had surely been successful in stealing. There was no way he would have discarded it already so you were going to find it, and find him. If he thought he could leave you high and dry for a second time, he had another thing coming.

You jumped at the knock on the door and grabbed a bread knife from the kitchenette before looking through the peephole to find Max with his hands in his pockets and a bored look on his face. “Open up, sweetheart, it’s chilly.”

“What the hell?” you hissed as you opened the door and closed it quickly behind him. “You were meant to be here an hour ago.”

“Brent kept taking calls, some emergency at work,” he explained as he kissed your forehead and saw your laptop open. “Had to take him out for a drink to finish the cloning.”

“I was about to start looking for you,” you admitted much to his amusement. 

“You thought I’d run?” he guessed with a pout, his eyebrows crumpling together as he tugged you by the hips and into his arms. “I thought you trusted me?”

“I do,” you hurried to reassure him and erase the sad look in his eyes. “I do trust you, or I wouldn’t be here.”

Placated, he released you to grab the go-bag you had brought into the motel and shut your laptop lid. “We should go, the handover is in a few hours and we have a drive ahead of us.” He left it at that and went to check out of the motel while you climbed into his car.

In this side of town without wheel locks your car was almost guaranteed to be stolen and the sooner that happened the better. It would be one less thing to dispose of that was linked to Ashley Jenkins.

Max was grinning as he slipped into the driver's seat and his happiness was infectious. He reached over the gearbox and laced his fingers with yours as soon as he was on the road, his fingers moving to the beat of the indie music playing on the radio.

“You should sleep,” Max suggested as the city light disappeared and the houses turned to farms. “We won’t be there for a while yet.”

“Where exactly is there?” 

He spared a second to glance at you away from the road before giving the answer, “Boston.”

His clipped tone gave you the impression he wasn’t interested in the conversation or answering anymore questions so you fell silent and rested your head against the window to try to sleep. Exhaustion won and you only woke up when the car came to a stop outside a stripclub.

“Um, what are we doing here?” you asked as you unbuckled your seatbelt like he had and grabbed your bag from the backseat. 

“Wait here, Y/N. I’ll be back in a minute.” He was already out of the car without waiting for a reply and you gave him two seconds head start before climbing out after him. He licked his lips as you caught up and looked ready to give you another order but was interrupted by a very large bouncer. 

“You're late,” he growled in a voice that was far softer than he appeared to be. 

Max waved a hand in your direction. “Women, what can I say? Tell him I have what he wants.”

“Tell him yourself,” the bouncer replied as he opened the velvet rope and jutted his head to the stairs that were sign posted as ‘Staff Only’. 

You were halfway up the first flight when Max turned and stared down at you with pursed lips. “What didn’t you understand about ‘stay in the car’?”

“I didn’t just work hard for a whole month so I could stay in the car at the end.” You pushed past him and continued to climb the stairs until you reached the first floor and paused to see where Max would go but he was still where you left him, tapping a finger to his lips deep in thought. “You’re already late, remember?”

His head fell back with a groan before he took the stairs two at a time until he reached you. “Fine, but keep your head down.” He curled his arm around your waist and turned down a corridor. “These men don’t mess around.”

They proved him right the moment Max knocked on the door and stepped into the large room with a glass wall overlooking the stripclub below. Two more burly guards stood just inside and a devilishly handsome man sat behind the huge mahogany desk. 

With just a flick of his ringed finger, the boss set his men into action and one tore you away from Max while the other sent a hard punch to his gut. 

“You’re late, Max,” the boss said as he rose to his feet and buttoned his suit up with deft fingers. “We had a deal.”

“Dev, I’ve got what you want,” he countered as he pulled the cloned device from his pocket and clutched his stomach. “It just took a little longer than expected.”

Dev took the phone with a small laugh. “You think I didn’t have eyes on you? I have been watching you the whole time.” He threw the device on the ground and stomped his heel on it until the glass crunched under foot. “Bring me the girl.”

“No, no, leave her out of it.” Max moved to intercept you as the guard dragged you closer to Dev but he was quickly winded by another punch. “She doesn’t know anything.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Dev ran his finger down your cheek and you shivered at the strangely intimate touch. “She’s very beautiful, isn’t she, Max. Do you actually care for her or is she another distraction while you make deals behind my back?”

Dev reached into his pocket and pulled out a small stack of photos, tossing them to the floor at Max’s feet. His face fell passive as he stared at the images of him shaking hands and smiling with some strangers, he didn’t even bother to deny the allegations.

“Now, where does that leave us?” Dev asked as he walked behind you and sent the guard back to the door. You dared not look at what the man behind you was doing as you felt his presence close, instead you locked eyes with Max and hoped to see some sort of plan forming in those depths.

“What do you want?” Max asked after breaking away from your stare. 

Dev sucked his teeth and you jumped as his large palms came to rest on your shoulders. “Those scumbags have been taking my girls, butchering the ones they don’t sell. Maybe I should give you a taste of how that feels?”

The grip on your shoulders tightened until a small sound escaped your lips and Max jolted forward. “Or, you tell me everything you know about them.”

Max raised his hands to try to diffuse the situation as he spoke softly, “I don’t know anything, I swear.”

You saw the faint sheen of dampness on his palms and his upturned collar fluttered slightly from the rapid increase in his pulse while his pupils dilated. Even after you had been threatened he was still lying, putting you at risk. You shouldn’t have been surprised. 

Something more powerful than rage hit you square in the chest, something you had felt once before - betrayal.

“He’s lying,” you uttered quietly, knowing Dev’s face was close to yours from the warm notes of whiskey that lingered on his breath. Dev’s fingers lifted in surprise and he spun you around to see your jaw clenched in anger, lips pressed to a tight line.

“Not the devoted, lovesick little girlfriend after all.”

“I have a thing about being lied to by him,” you said as you lifted your chin higher and stared back into the searing grey eyes of the boss. “Hurting me won’t get you what you want. He obviously doesn’t care.”

Dev chuckled and dipped his head closer to whisper, “We’ll see about that, won’t we.”

You were shoved away from him and into the arms of the guard who began to drag you from the room. The need to fight flooded you and you kicked your legs out, trying to grab anything you could, but it was fruitless. You couldn’t break the hold that kept your arms pinned and Max was blocked by the other guard. 

“Louis, take her to my private room,” Dev said as you passed the threshold, throwing you a wink before he shut the door. 

“Let me go, please, I have money.”

“I don’t need your money.” Louis laughed as he opened the door to the room next door and started to place you down gently. “Relax, Dev doesn’t hurt women.”

You stilled as your feet reached the carpet and you saw a window into the office. A one way mirror that you hadn’t noticed when you were inside the room. “It was a ploy.”

The guard pressed his finger to a button on the wall and Max’s voice came through on the vent that opened near the ceiling, “Look, I brought her into this but she had nothing to do with it. Let her go and I’ll tell you what I know.”

Surprise nearly knocked you off your feet as he bartered for your freedom and you stumbled away from the window and into a metal chair. 

You had spent years wondering if any of what he said to you was real, if he had even cared when he stole millions from your family and ruined your career. Then, again, when he showed up out of the blue in your auditorium, you had doubted his feelings for you. But finally, you had your answer. Only you weren’t sure it even mattered by now.

“Tell me first, then I’ll let her go. Unharmed, of course.”

Max ran a hand through his hair, messing the dark strands before unbuttoning his suit jacket and dropping into a leather recliner. “They know you want information about their boss.”  

“How did they know that?”

“Because I told them,” Max admitted with a tight-lipped smile. “And they gave me a tonne of cash for it.”

Dev tutted and took a seat at his desk. “Always thinking about the money aren’t you, Max.”

“Your boyfriend is a bit of an asshole,” Louis commented as he took a seat beside you. “What do you see in him anyway?”

“It’s none of your business,” you muttered as you watched Max tell Dev everything. He explained how he approached Dev’s adversary, figuring he could make some money out of the exchange as well as use the threat to draw you back into his life. Every word he spoke caused your stomach to drop further and you turned to Louis. “Did they really kidnap your dancers?”

Louis gave a tense nod. “They take homeless girls too. No one reports them missing or cares when they show up dead.”

You turned your attention to Max who was cold and unsympathetic to the horrible acts that were happening while he rolled in the cash playing both sides. He even had the audacity to look smug as he sat there comfortably. You suddenly realised that although he actually loved you and you had been slipping back into those feelings, it didn’t change the fact he was an asshole. An asshole you could no longer stomach spending the rest of your life with, no matter how thrilling an adventure it may be. 

“Hey, where are you going?” Louis asked as you shot up from your seat and stormed back to the office. 

The door slammed open and Dev cocked an eyebrow at your entrance while Max frowned in confusion. “You piece of shit,” you growled. “You lied to me!”

“Sweetheart, I don’t know what they’ve said about me but you can trust me,” Max said softly, like he was talking to a skittish horse that was unbroken.

“They didn’t have to say anything,” you said as you stepped closer to Dev. “You did enough of that yourself.”

“I suppose I should’ve warned you how thin the walls are in this room,” Dev said with a smirk. 

You reeled in your fury as you pushed emotion aside to focus on the facts. “You told me you would be giving him the phone so they could deal with the traffickers.”

“I say a lot of things, sweetheart.”

“I know,” you said with a humourless laugh. “Trust me, I know. I guess that’s why I didn’t completely believe anything you told me. You always did tell the best lies.”

Max straightened up in his seat and his eyes narrowed as his head tilted. He was desperately running through the memories of the last month trying to figure out what the vague threat was. 

Turning your back to Max, you faced Dev and crossed your arms. “There’s a laptop in the car downstairs, send one of your men to get it and I will do better than just getting you contact information.”

“Y/N, no, what are you doing?” Max interrupted and tried to rise from the chair only to have his shoulders pinned by the guard behind him before he patted Max’s pockets to find the car keys. “What did you do?”

Louis caught the keys that were thrown his way before slipping from the room. 

The atmosphere spiked as Max squirmed under the pressure of the grip but you couldn’t find any enjoyment in his discomfort, even if he deserved that and more. 

“May I?” you asked Dev as you nodded to his empty chair. 

The seat was still warm as you took a seat and the scent of his cologne stronger like it had permeated the air around his desk from the long hours he spent working. You could already see he was a boss who cared about his employees, even if it appeared he was some kind of ring leader, and he looked exhausted beneath the confident stance and 5 o’clock shadow. 

The inquisitive stare was broken when Louis swept into the room with your laptop bag and carefully placed it on the desk, moving Dev’s keyboard aside for you. 

“What are you doing?” Max asked again, a hint of true fear in his voice as it peaked.

“I really hoped you had been honest with me.” You didn’t even look up as you continued typing. “I was ready to leave everything, go anywhere with you…but there was always that doubt.

“That’s what my lecture was about the day you came to my class. Instinct and intuition.” Dev circled around his desk to stand behind your chair but unless he understood coding script all he would see was lines of nonsense across the screen. 

“What is all this?” Dev asked as he leaned over the chair to look closer as if it would suddenly make sense.

You glanced up over the screen to lock eyes with Max. “Last night while you were with Brent I hacked the bank to trigger their security procedure.”

“Why?” he asked.

“In case you failed. I couldn’t just go digging around where I shouldn’t, it would’ve raised some red flags. But once they’ve been hacked? It’s a free for all to search every file, software, system.”

You hit enter and the window switched to the home screen of SAP; the accounting software that held all the information about every client of Hartmont Brough Bank from their name, address and tax code to their bank account number and balance. 

“Holy shit,” Dev said breathlessly. “Who are you?”

You held out your hand for him to shake as you formally introduced yourself, “Y/N Y/L/N.”

His eyes widened in recognition of your surname. “As in Y/L/N Enterprises?”

“Not anymore,” you huffed as you narrowed your eyes at Max who was fuming in the chair. “Give me their names.”

“You don’t want to mess with these people,” Max growled through his teeth.

“That’s what you said about him too,” you said as you gave Dev an appreciative once over, “but he seems pretty decent to me.” 

Dev smirked at the compliment and Max thrashed against the hold on him as he argued, “They won’t just kill you, they will make you watch every one you love die first before they gut you too.”

“Dev?” you prompted as your fingers hovered over the keys waiting to search the portal for a name.

Max gave up trying to get through to you and turned his attempts on Dev. “If you tell her who they are you might as well put a gun to her head now.”

That gave Dev pause and you were shown another glimpse of his moral compass. Placing a hand on his arm to get him to look away from Max, you gave him a reassuring smile and said, “They won’t be able to trace this to me. He’s just trying to save himself because the target will be on his back.”

His grey eyes scanned yours for a moment, searching for a hint of a lie, before he gave a small nod and stood up. “Adam Bethel and Kristian Svensek.”

You started with Adam and whistled at the bank balance that had put your family’s fortune to shame. “Would be a waste to just erase it.”

“Here,” Dev said as he opened his internet browser on his phone and found a charity that supported survivors of sex trafficking after rescuing women. “Give it to them.”

Max groaned and dropped his head at the thought of stealing all that money and not keeping a cent of it. The thought made you smile because he was right when he said you enjoyed the thrill of playing spymaster but being Robin Hood was even better.

You entered the banking details for Agape International Missions and made the donation anonymously before moving onto Kristian and giving his sum to Shared Hope International.

Sitting back, you stared at the screen and smiled with satisfaction, the final balance: $0.01. 

“600 million dollars,” Max grumbled and gave up fighting, falling back into the chair. “You just gave away 600 million dollars.”

“Nope, I just invested it,” you corrected as you exited the hidden backdoor you had built into the system while you were supposed to be scanning the Online Portal last night. “And if Adam or Kristian report the money missing then they will have to somehow explain where the money came, something I am sure they don’t want the authorities looking into.”

“There’s still billions more just sitting there! Why don’t you just take it?” Max pleaded and you saw the manic gleam to his eyes. He was hooked, like a heroin addict, he was addicted to this life and would stop at nothing for his next fix. 

“Because I’m not like you.” You realised that there would be too much temptation for someone to copy your code to keep the backdoor in place in the system so you erased it before closing the laptop shut. “It’s over, Max.”

“You really had me fooled,” he chuffed as he rose to his feet and this time the guard let him. 

“Doesn’t feel great does it?”

Max ran his tongue across his teeth before pointing to Louis blocking the door. “Are we done here or what? It’s been a long night.”

Dev nodded his head to Louis and the man moved aside for Max who paused on the other side. “I trust your new friend can help you get back to New York, forgive me for not wanting to take you there myself.”

“I can manage just fine on my own.”

“So I have found,” he muttered as he sauntered off down the stairs.

“Wait,” you shouted and rushed after him as you remembered something. “You should have these.” You pulled the engagement ring and wedding band from your finger and tossed them to where he had stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “Sell them if you need the money that badly.”

He stared as the rings resting in his palms, the diamonds sparkling in the laser lights that escaped the door to the stripclub that was beginning to close. His shaking fist closed tightly around them before he threw his head back with a bitter laugh and tossed the worthless rings out into the street. 

“Goodbye, Maxwell Burnett,” you said as he turned to the dark streets and you watched his silhouette until it disappeared. 

Six Months Later

“Nature vs Nurture. What makes us function as we do? How is our cognitive reasoning influenced? Are we wired to behave the way we do through inherited genes or from the environment we are subject to? These are the questions I want you to think about before we return next semester. For now, enjoy your vacation and happy holidays.”

The classroom was far smaller than the auditorium you had lectured in at Fordham University but you had settled happily into life at Boston College. You closed your textbook as the room quickly emptied, each student eager to leave campus for the term. You couldn’t blame them, you were just as ready to take a break after the year you had endured.

Shoving your book in your bag, you slung it over your shoulder and pushed away the thoughts that encroached uninvited. Every now and again you wondered where Max was, what trouble he was getting up to. You couldn’t help it. He was your first love and no matter how many years passed he could still worm his way into your thoughts, perhaps he always would. So long as he stayed out of your life, you could handle the rest. 

The bang of the door closing had you jump and you spun around too quickly, your heavy bag throwing you off balance, but a strong pair of hands caught your waist and kept you upright. 

“Everything okay?” Dev asked with a frown before scanning the room to see if there was a reason you were on edge.

“Lost track of time in my own little world. I’m fine,” you reassured him with a quick kiss. “What are you doing here anyway?”

Dev pulled out his phone as he explained, “Your program got another hit, it found them.” A pixelated image of two young women appeared on the screen, taken from an ATM security camera, but the facial recognition matched the last two of Dev’s dancers that had gone missing months ago. “It was taken in Kosovo. Louis’ gone to check it out before he calls Agape but it will take him a while to get there.” Dev’s excitement was palpable as he pocketed the device and wrapped you in his arms. 

The bag slipped from your shoulder and thudded to the ground but you didn’t care as you threw your arms around his neck and squealed with joy. 

“I just had to come and tell you the news,” he murmured between kisses. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Max was right - you couldn’t just go back to the mundane life of a professor. But you couldn’t be like him either, cold and calculating without remorse. You chose to be better, you chose to do better. 

“I told you we would bring them home.”

Matt Bomer as Dev:

[thesugarclubs-blog]

Be Mine - Bucky Barnes x OC

warnings: speed dating, strangers to lovers, heavy petty, valentines day special

word count: 5.6k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1424350312-be-mine-hazel

vibe: “Not enough to scare you I hope,” Hazel voiced, a small smirk tugging at her lips as she studied him fingers tapping the base of her glass.

“Quite the opposite,” he declared his hand inching closer to where she had rested her free arm on the back of the sofa.

“Good, I think we’d balance each other out perfectly,” she mused, her hand meeting him halfway like she had read his mind just as she took a sip of her wine.

Masterlist

“Bucky Barnes, man you’re lookin’ good,” Sam drawled, a sly smile creeping its way across his face.

“Shut up,” Bucky mumbled, nervously running his hand over the long scruff on his cheeks.

He hunched his shoulders and tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans, desperately trying to make his large frame look less intimidating. Dropping his head, he stared at the toe of his boot as he scuffed it along the wooden floor of his apartment.

“Don’t know why the hell I let you talk me into this,” he added, his brows drawing down into a petulant scowl.

“‘Cause I’m your friend and you love me,” Sam replied sweetly, throwing his arm around Bucky and drawing the reluctant super soldier tightly against him. “You gotta get back out there, charm those ladies like it’s 1942.”

“Friends don’t put each other into situations like this,” Bucky grumbled, his jaw clenching tightly as he glared at Sam out of the corner of his eye.

“Quit being a toddler. You’re acting like we’re gonna fight someone. It’s not Madripoor, or Seoul, or that time in Belize…”

“I’d rather be back in Belize.”

Sam threw his head back with a cackle and slapped his hand between Bucky’s shoulders. “Whatever, big guy, come on. We don’t wanna be late.”

Bucky spent the whole subway ride with a scowl etched onto his face, deepening every time he caught a glimpse of Sam’s grin in his peripherals. 

The annoying part of  this was, the longer he’d been friends with the guy, the more that grin wore him down. 

“Stop it.” 

“I ain’t doin’ anything, man. You stop it.” 

Sam’s toothy smile grew two times wider and he nudged Bucky’s shoulder as they shuffled off the train at Prince Street Station. 

“This thing would be in Soho,” Bucky muttered, following Sam out onto the sidewalk. 

“Hey! No more complaining. For all you know you might meet a nice girl or guy… or alien I guess, it is 2024, and then you’ll be thanking me.” 

Bucky rolled his eyes. 

“Yes, Sam. Sure, Sam. Just run my life for me, Sam.” 

“Someone’s gotta,” Sam replied just as they stopped outside a coffee shop. Bucky eyed the big A-frame sign advertising the Valentine’s speed dating event and sucked in a breath. 

Here goes nothing.

The sound in there alone was enough to have him turning tail but Sam caught his arm when he made an attempt and gave him a stern look that rang out loud and clear, stay put soldier, that's an order.

Bucky watched as a herd of women fixed their dresses and shirts, chatting politely with the people next to them and sipping on drinks as men lurked in corners, with wide eyes scanning the crowd as they downed beers in feeble attempts to find their courage. Bucky wanted to melt into the wall with them but Sam tugged him toward an empty high table and had the waitress grab them drinks before they even settled in. 

An eclectic looking woman in a bright green patterned dress and thick brimmed purple glasses stepped up on the tiny, open mic stage in the corner and tapped the mic loudly to get everyone's attention. The coffee shop dulled to a murmur as she started to explain how the speed dating would work.

Her nasal whine drilled into Bucky’s brain and he downed the remains of his beer, wishing for all the world that the burn of the alcohol would actually stick this time. He was struggling to form a coherent thought so he had no idea how he’d manage to hold a half-decent conversation. As if someone had heard his desperate pleas, Miss Green Dress came unknowingly to his rescue.

“We know it can be intimidating sometimes, to answer questions from strangers,” she droned, “so make sure you pick up one of our handy yes/no paddles before the first bell rings.”

Bucky’s eyes lit up and he began to move towards the table that held the paddles but Sam’s hand on his elbow stopped him.

“Wait a second, tin man, there’s no way you’re getting out of communicating with real life people.”

"If the lady says to grab a paddle, I'm gonna grab a paddle," Bucky countered, crossing his arms over his chest and staring Sam down as if to say what are you gonna do about it?

"Just promise me you'll actually talk to these people, and I mean talk, Barnes. None of the weird little cyborg grunts I've learnt how to interpret." 

On instinct, Bucky flexed and curled the fingers of his left hand. The leather of his glove creaked quietly as it stretched and Bucky sighed. One glance of the Vibranium and his dates were bound to hop out of their seats like their asses were on fire. 

"If you don't want them to see, you don't have to show them," Sam said. He was speaking in his counselor voice and Bucky hated that Sam could read him like a book.

Bucky sighed softly as he looked around the room again. “They’ll either run or ask me a bunch of questions that I’ll never be able to answer.”

Sam smirked and gently nudged his friend. “You have a bit of a following, you know.”

Bucky only grumbled. “That’s what worries me.”

“I’ve seen some of those messages you get, man those people are crazy,” Sam continued, but his teasing was softened by the sympathetic look in his eyes. “Just…give it a shot and if you really need to get out of here we will, ok?”

Bucky let out a world-weary sigh. “OK.”

“Atta boy, come on, let’s go.” Sam handed him another beer and tilted his head towards the line of tables, where a plethora of women were starting to take their seats.

"Remember, if you are sitting facing the coffee bar, you'll be staying in your seats. If you're facing away, you'll be moving on the ring of the bell," the woman called out loudly, making Bucky wince as he found his seat; James Barnes printed on a little card already thanks to Sam signing them up a week earlier.

The tables were decorated for the event; pink checked table cloths and tiny pink paper hearts scattered across the top. Between him and his first partner, a petite brunette woman with thick bangs and a nose stud, sat a small vase with a single rose. Bucky eyed the tattoos peaking out from the woman's collar and sleeves and gulped, feeling way in over his head already.

"My names Cassie," she introduced herself with a sharp smile. 

"Bucky," he swallowed thickly and palmed his beer bottle. 

"So what are you into?" She jumped right into the questions and all Bucky could think about was the bell ringing, how soon would it happen? Could he ring it if he felt threatened? There was an astounding lack of rules happening, "Like in the bedroom?" 

And boundaries. 

"Uh," he looked around for Sam who was laughing with a pretty blonde girl across the room.

Bucky could feel sweat on the back of his neck as he messed with the label on his beer bottle. 

“You’re not a talker, are you?” Cassie grinned.

It was tensely quiet for a moment before Bucky lifted his paddle with the “no” facing towards his partner.

“Ah, I see. The strong silent type. My kinda guy,” she purred.

Bucky jumped a mile in the air and almost threw his beer across the room as her foot began to stroke its way up his shin. He’d never been more relieved to hear a bell in his life.

Cassie blew him a kiss over her shoulder as she moved onto the next table and Bucky shot daggers at Sam across the room, his nostrils flaring as his so called friend laughed and gestured for him to turn around. 

The next woman in front of him looked a little tamer, if he took her ridiculously low cut top out of the equation. His eyes dipped momentarily — he may have been an ex-assassin, but he was a hot-blooded man first — before he caught himself and met her eye with a tight-lipped smile. 

"So, how many kids do you wa—"

Bucky stared at her wide-eyed and took a long pull of his beer.

"Nope. Next!"

"You're Bucky Barnes," The red head sneered before she even sat down at the table. "That's incredible, show me it."

Bucky stared at her for a moment, her green eyes predatory as they roved over his arm and down to his hand. 

"Show you what?" His brows kissed in frustration. 

"The vibranium arm," she leaned over on the table. "There are bets that it's not real, that the government made it up as a fear tactic." She rambled and Bucky tensed, "I mean we all know you're some kind of science experiment," she continued. "Fear mongering doesn't work when you make the poster child for it with thick thighs," the girl looked under the table and winked at Bucky. 

"I..." he was uncomfortable but wasn't sure what to say to her. 

"Excuse me," a sweet voice floated over the table, "you're in my seat."

Red looked up and looked incredulously at the owner of the voice before turning back to Bucky.

"I said, you're in my seat," the voice repeated, the sweetness dropped a notch.

Bucky's attention was now on the curvaceous blonde who grasped the chair from under the red head and tipped her off. "I said this is my seat, now clear off."

The downed redhead crawled to the next chair, picked up her stuff and disappeared through the cafe.

"Hi Gorgeous, my name's Hazel, pleased to meet you."

Bucky felt himself relax for the first time since he'd taken his seat.

He gave the woman a small smile and nodded in thanks for getting rid of the other woman. “I’m Bucky,” he said quietly as he eyed the now torn off label of his beer.

Hazel smiled at him, her blonde hair bobbed just above her shoulders as she flattened down the skirt of her dress. A pink number with puffy sleeves and a full skirt. 

“How have your dates been so far?” Hazel asked. His eyes flicked down to the corner of her lips where they tugged upwards ever so slightly. Heat crawled up his neck as he took a pull from his beer. 

“Do people not know what boundaries are anymore?” He said after a moment. Hazel stared at him before bursting into a chuckle.

“Nope,” she said, shaking her head and making her blonde bob dance around her ears. “That guy in the blue turtleneck offered me $50 to go home with him.”

“Jesus Christ, I’m gonna kick his ass,” Bucky muttered, semi-rising from his chair, only half joking.

A light touch on his left arm stopped him and the amused twinkle in Hazel’s eyes had him smiling back at her without even realising.

“I don’t need a champion, Bucky, but I appreciate the gesture,” Hazel said, holding out her bottle of beer to clink against his own.

“Ok,” Bucky shrugged as he chimed their bottles together before taking a swig. “Let’s get started then. You wanna go first?”

Hazel scrunched up her nose and tapped her finger against her pouted lips a couple of times. Her eyes lit up before turning a little devilish and Bucky found himself eager to hear what she’d thought of to ask him.

“You know, I could really use a recommendation and you’re just the guy to ask. So…what’s your favourite brand of metal polish?”

Bucky surprised himself with the laugh that escaped him and he didn't miss the proud little smile on Hazel's face, obviously pleased that her question tickled him. 

"Y'know, I'm not a fussy guy," he replied, "I'll take anythin' that'll make it shine." 

"The arm or your eyes?" 

"Hello, smooth talker," Bucky chuckled, "you been talkin' to all the guys like that?" 

Hazel shook her head, flashing him a beaming smile. A wisp of her blonde hair fell across her eyes with the movement and Bucky itched to reach out and tuck it behind her ear, only stopping himself when Hazel leant forward, chin resting in her hand. 

"Guess it's my turn again, huh?"

"What's your favorite drink?" Bucky asked her and felt himself leaning into her smile.

"Espresso Martini," she cooed. 

Bucky raised his hand in the air and a waitress scooted around a table where the dates were screaming at one another, "how can I help?" She asked. 

"Can you get my date an espresso martini please?" He asked and the waitress opened her mouth to explain that she may not be here by the time the drink was made. "She'll be here," Bucky nodded. 

The waitress shrugged and ducked back into the chaos around her. 

"Seems I've met my match," Hazel stared over at him.

Bucky smirked at her as the bell rang, holding her gaze. 

"Time to swap," the next dater spoke from behind Hazel.

"Not happening," Bucky replied, his eyes never leaving hers, as Hazel responded, "He's taken."

As the waitress placed the drink beside Hazel, she shrugged to the disgruntled dater and advised her to move past. "I've bigger fish to fry," she muttered, the couple who had screamed through their date were now heckling each other from several tables apart.

"So, where were we?" Hazel asked, raising her glass in toast to Bucky.

Bucky raised his bottle leaning the neck forward to softly clink her glass, taking a swig as he watched her pink-tinted plump lips part as she brought her glass up to her mouth. 

“I believe you have the floor now,” he smiled, watching her blue eyes sparkle under the soft yellow lighting. 

“Okay serious question now, promise” she winked, “how are you finding the modern world?”

Bucky let out a long breath and chuckled to himself. "It definitely ain't the 40's anymore darlin'." 

Blue eyes regarded him as she tilted her head to the side. "That daunting huh?" 

"And more." He said giving her a lopsided smile. "It's not just the technology that's changed, ya know? It's people too. The way people treat eachother. In some ways the world is a lot more accepting and in others..." His voice trailed off. 

"Like we're always fighting each other for someone else's agenda?" She finished for him.

“Exactly,” he agreed.

He leaned back in his seat and appraised her as he tilted back his bottle and swallowed a mouthful of beer. Hazel did the same, winking at him over the rim of her martini glass and he felt himself flush under her scrutiny. He liked it. 

“What made you come here tonight?” He asked.

“Nancy asked me to make up numbers,” she shrugged, nodding her head towards the organiser in the green dress. “She minded my baby for me last week so I owed her one.”

“Oh?” Bucky raised his eyebrow. “What’s your baby called?”

“Trevor. He’s a total asshole but I adore him,” Hazel gushed. “He’ll sulk for days if I leave him with anyone other than Nancy.”

“Yeah,” Bucky swallowed awkwardly. “I guess kids can be funny like that.”

“Kid?” Hazel threw her head back and cackled. “Trevor’s my cat!”

"Oh...OH!" Bucky chuckled, feeling a little bashful over the misunderstanding. But then with Hazel's laugh, Bucky couldn't help the way his own grew louder. 

Hazel's shoulders shook as she tapered off into a giggle and her eyes creased at the corners, lashes glistening with unshed tears. She was gorgeous, her whole personality infectious and Bucky was more than ready to throw caution to the wind, steal her away from this stupid event. 

"I, uh... I like cats..." Bucky said suddenly, voice going up like it was a question, and the laughter started all over again. He hadn't felt this loose, his heart this full of something that wasn't dread or fear, in years.

"You do?" Hazel perked up and her soft smile curled to the side. 

"I have one," Bucky nodded, "Alpine. Sweet little thing. Feisty too."

"Like father, like daughter, clearly." She teased, her finger rolling down the stem of her glass. "Can I meet her sometime?"

"I'd like that," Bucky smiled at her. "You look amazing in that dress by the way."

"What? This little ole thing?" she quoted. "It's fabulous dahling, I was always told 'go big or go home'. The best advice I've ever been given."

"Who told you that?" Bucky asked curiously.

"My Nan," Hazel smiled at the memory, pausing to take another sip from her glass.

“Must’ve been one wonderful woman as well,” he offered with a tender smile. 

“That she was. And, thank you.” Hazel smiled back, eyes glossy. 

“So Mr. Barnes, I think we’ve defeated speed-dating. Very succesfully, if I might add,” she winked at the soft laugh that slipped from Bucky’s lips. 

Hazel moved her hand and rested it softly atop his and he was absolutely certain from the little twitch upwards at the corner of her lips, that she could see the flush creeping up his neck and cheeks. 

“You think your partner back there would mind if we took our drinks somewhere else?”  she asked pointing Sam’s way with her plush lips.

"Wouldn't care if he did." Bucky grinned, taking another swig of his beer, "what about you? Do you think Nancy is gonna flip if you leave?" 

Hazel glanced over her shoulder at Nancy, too busy calming down a woman. "Nah, she's got her hands full." Those same blue eyes flickered back to him and his heart skipped a beat he was sure of it.

“Well then,” Bucky grinned, hopping up and sliding around the table to Hazel’s side because he was nothing if not a gentleman. He held out his warm hand out for her and something lit up inside him, a sparkling, soft glow in the darkness, as Hazel’s fingers curled around his. 

She giggled as she stood, straightening out the skirt of her dress with her free hand and Bucky took a moment to really take her in. 

“Why thank you, kind sir.” 

Bucky shrugged shyly, face warm as Hazel beamed up at him. If only he couldn’t see Sam giving him two goofy thumbs up over her head.

"Okay maybe walk a little faster though," Hazel giggled when Nancy gasped from the left of the room. 

The two of them made their way out onto the street in a bundle of laughs and quickened steps as Nancy yelled from the door of the shop. Hazel's cute pink dress was a mess in the wind from their scurried steps and Bucky couldn't help but laugh when he looked over at her to find her hair a mess around her beautiful face. 

"Here," he angled himself in front of her, blocking her from the breeze and used both hands to push the hair from her face. "Much better," he smiled, unaware or unbothered by the proximity of their lips as she stared up at him with light dancing across her blue eyes. 

"Thanks," she said, her cheeks turning red.

"Any time, beautiful" Bucky voiced as he stroked her flushed cheek tenderly with his gloved thumb.

"Now who's the smooth talker," Hazel laughed, so sweet and melodic Bucky hoped he could hear it everyday. 

"Still got something," he chuckled. "Where to next?" 

"Well, there's a small bar not far from here. Cozy booths we could sit side by side in... or across from each other you know, your choice." Her eyes shifted from his lips to his eyes and back, and it took every bit of willpower in him not to kiss her right there. 

"You really think I'm gonna wanna sit anywhere but right next to ya?" He said, moving his hands reluctantly from her face to offer his hand once more. "Lead the way darlin'."

Hazel grinned up at him. "Do you trust me?" 

He saw a twinkle of mischief in her eyes as he glanced down at her but something fluttered in his chest that made him feel like he could actually trust this woman. "and if I say yes?" 

She smirked and tugged on his hand, leading him further down the street. "Then you'd make my night." 

He couldn't help but laugh as they continued to walk in silence. One that didn't feel pressured or awkward. It was just the two of them enjoying each other's presence. Hazel stopped outside of a small brownstone and looked back at him. 

"This doesn't look like a bar, darlin'." He raised a brow. 

"That's because it's my apartment." Hazel bit her bottom lip softly as she looked up at him. "I figured if we wanted some place quiet that this might be the best spot and besides...I do need to feed Trevor."

Bucky didn't realise he could raise his eyebrow as high as he just did, blinking down at Hazel as his lips curved into a smirk. 

“You’re bold,” he murmured darkly, “I like it.” 

“My God, I thought you were about to run for the hills,” Hazel breathed, smacking him lightly on the arm — the left one. 

“Sweetheart, the day I run from a gorgeous woman like you will be the day I need my brain fixed… again.” 

Hazel’s cheeks turned a soft pink as she chuckled quietly and Bucky couldn’t help himself as his fingers found her jaw again,  the pad of his thumb gently stroking the apple of her cheek. 

“Last chance to back out,” she offered but Bucky shook his head. 

“You promised a cat,” he grinned.

“That I did, soldier.” She unlocked the door and led him inside. Locking it behind them as she entered. 

The place was cute, decorated in more color than Bucky had ever seen in his entire life. Completely out of place, the most scraggly cat he had ever laid eyes on. Trevor looked like he had gone five rounds with a wood chipper. 

“He was an alley cat,” Hazel set her purse on the long teal hallway table between a hot pink vase full of fake flowers and a funky looking bowl for her keys. “Believe it or not, Trevor is in better shape than he’s ever been.” 

“I’m sensing a theme,” Bucky teased, squatting before the cat and offering his hand. 

“I promise I don’t make a habit of bringing home strays,” Hazel laughed and her fingers ran through Bucky’s hair as she passed. The sensation curled his toes and forced his eyes upward to where she was disappearing around the corner. Nothing but pink tulle and long gorgeous legs.

“Christ,” he muttered under his breath and almost crawled after her until he managed to gather enough of his wits about himself to clamber to his feet.

He padded after her into a small kitchen, careful to keep his steps heavy so as not to startle her with his usual light-footed gait. The orange and hot pink accents in the room should have clashed but somehow they didn’t. They were perfectly Hazel. She turned to face him, a bottle of white wine in one hand, a bottle of whiskey in the other, and a cheeky smile on her beautiful face.

Bucky nodded his head towards the whiskey and stepped further into the kitchen as she busied about, pouring them both a glass. Handing him a cut glass tumbler with a healthy measure of amber liquid inside, she raised her wine glass in a wordless toast before taking a sip. Bucky was mesmerised at the way her tongue darted out to capture the stray droplet of wine that lingered on her bottom lip.

Before he even took a sip of the whiskey warmth filled his chest. He hadn't expected to take away anything from the ridiculous spectacle that was speed dating but here he stood, bashful and anxious before a beautiful woman who was anything but those two things. 

She set her wine glass down and pulled out a tiny can that had Trevor sounding off like a fire alarm as she struggled to open it. Bucky moved forward in an offer to help but her blue eyes flickered up to him in warning. Eventually she got the lid popped and fed Trevor as Bucky stood and watched her care for the mangled, scruffy looking alley cat. 

"You stand out like a sore thumb in here," she teased, looking up at him again before moving around the counter and ushering him through the house. 

"I'll confess I feel like one," he said as she sat across from him with her legs tucked under her. 

His tongue darted out over his bottom lip, saddened that she had curled away from him. Desperate to touch all of sudden. Like a love sick puppy, touch starved and wanting.

“Not enough to scare you I hope,” Hazel voiced, a small smirk tugging at her lips as she studied him fingers tapping the base of her glass. 

“Quite the opposite,” he declared his hand inching closer to where she had rested her free arm on the back of the sofa. 

“Good, I think we’d balance each other out perfectly,” she mused, her hand meeting him halfway like she had read his mind just as she took a sip of her wine. 

Her delicate fingers traced along the leather of his gloves and her eyes followed like she was lost in thought before she spoke again. 

“You know, you don’t have to hide with me.” Her blue eyes found his once more as her fingers curled into his. “I’m not saying you *have* to take them off if you don’t want to, just wanted you to know you were, safe." She finished with a smile so tender and genuine that he thought his heart was going to burst right out of his chest.

Bucky smiled and looked down at his hands. He always kept his gloves on unless he was in his apartment or on a mission if he needed to use the arm for strength. Licking his lips, he flexed one hand. "Thank you..." he told her. It was tempting to show her, to relax the worry in his mind. But he didn't want to frighten her either.

She continued to talk, her voice soft and lilting, and Bucky found himself mesmerised by her animated features and expressive hands. A rogue strand of hair was the only thing that interrupted her monologue as it flopped insistently over her forehead. Hazel crossed her eyes endearingly and pursed her lips to blow it out of the way with a chuckle of laughter that turned into a huff as it immediately returned.

Without a second thought Bucky reached forwards and stroked it gently out of her way, tucking the blonde strand behind her ear. The feel of her warm skin against his fingertips was heavenly and then he stilled with the realisation that he’d taken off his gloves. 

“There you are,” Hazel murmured, a smile of pure delight on her face as she leaned into the touch of his hand.

He can’t remember the last time he’d used his hands for such a soft gesture, for someone to see him so metaphorically naked and not be fazed in the slightest. 

“Hi,” he breathed, fingers still lingering on her cheek. 

“Hi, handsome,” Hazel whispered and then, “can I?” 

She gestured for his other hand and Bucky nodded, letting Hazel lead as she slid her palm along the vibranuim plates of his, her thumb stroking his wrist as if she’d feel a pulse there. And then he was cupping her cheeks, metal and flesh framing her perfect face.

"Do you feel anything?" She asks him and oddly enough he had never been posed with such a question. He had to think about it. 

Could he feel the softness of her skin, the warmth, the realness... or was it just his mind playing tricks on him. 

"It's not a trick question?" Hazel whispered, her eyes flickering back and forth over his expression. 

"I'm sort of sick of those," he leaned forward, their lips ghosting and breath tangling as he worked up the nerve to kiss her. "Questions are messy," he said. 

"You know what's not?" Hazel smiled and it made all the lines around her face crinkle, "kissing."

"I feel like-" Bucky started to say that it was messy, in fact kissing was the epitome of messy but Hazel was done conversation and her lips where colliding with his before he could protest further. They were delicate as she leaned into his touch and dragged her teeth over his bottom lip sending a thousand tiny shivers rolling through him like a wave. It had been a long time since he had been kissed, and even longer since anyone had turned him into knots the way Hazel was.

Bucky sighed softly as his eyes closed. He focused on the softness of her lips, the taste of her cherry chapstick. It wasn’t long before one hand moved to rest on the side of her neck, caressing her smooth skin with his thumb.

Hazel’s lips parted in a soft gasp as Bucky let himself get lost in the kiss. He licked into her mouth, deliberate and tentative all at once. He didn’t want to get this wrong, didn’t want to fuck up the first piece of human interaction to coax out the butterflies that had been hidden, scared away and buried away for the last 80 years. 

Hazel’s fingers skimmed along his jaw, scratching over the scruff of his stubble before they tangled into the fluff of hair behind his ears. 

Bucky’s breath hitched and someone made a keening little sound, muffled by lips and soft breaths. It wasn’t until Hazel moved in a little closer, kissed him a little softer, that he realised it was him.

His entire body was vibrating and he never wanted to let go of this feeling, to let go of her. He wanted to be here for as long as she would let him. 

His flesh hand found purchase in her hair, caressing her blond strands as their tongues danced together while he let his vibranium one travel down her neck. His metal fingers danced along her collarbone and arm as the sweet sounds of her muffled moans took over all of his senses. His hand stopped at her waist, grasping softly as he spoke into their kiss. 

“Need you closer, please.” He whined.

Hazel pulled away just enough to where she could speak. “Closer how, handsome?”

He couldn’t put his feelings into words; he was so intoxicated by her, as if the whiskey had actually overpowered the serum that ran through his veins. Sliding his hands lower he cupped her ass over the yards of silky chiffon and pulled her gently towards him.

Hazel laughed, a joyful, tinkling sound, as she let him guide her into straddling his thick thighs.

“Better?” She murmured, running her nose along the length of his jaw before ghosting her lips lightly over his.

“Much,” Bucky hummed as his palms dipped under the hem of Hazel’s dress, caressing the soft skin of her thighs. “Now, sweetheart… you and your gorgeous legs just sit pretty and let me love on you.” 

“Well, I know I can do that,” Hazel replied and Bucky could feel her smile, hear the quickening thud of her heart as he kissed her pillow-soft, dewy lips. 

There was nothing tentative about the kiss this time, he was determined to make Hazel feel good, to draw out every breath and gasp and moan like it was the only thing that mattered.

"I like you Hazel," Bucky huffed against her lips, needy for more but wanting to play every move carefully. "You surprised me."

"Is that a good," she tensed as his fingers tickled her thigh, "thing? You sound unsure."

"Oh darlin', it's a damn good thing I'm sure."

Hazel giggled softly as she ran one hand slowly through his hair, watching as the man beneath her practically melted. “You’re a little bit like a cat, yourself, you know that?” She smiled. “You practically vibrate when I touch you.”

“How can I not when you feel so good?” He rumbled, adding an extra purr to his words just to hear that laugh of hers again.

It worked. The peal of laughter she let out had his chest blooming with a warmth he’d not felt in years. His hands left her thighs, sliding up and around her back so that he could draw her close.

Hazel fit against his chest as if she’d been made for him, humming contentedly when he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“Thank you, Bucky,” Hazel murmured softly, tilting up to press a series of sweet kisses along his jaw. Bucky sighed, warmth flooding his belly. 

“What for, pretty girl?” 

“I know you didn’t want to be at that event but you took a chance, you let me see you.” 

“Couldn’t really say no, Hazel. You had me from the moment you kicked that girl out of her seat.” Bucky chuckled, kissing her again. He couldn’t stop, didn’t *want* to stop. 

“You mean *my* seat,” Hazel replied, flashing him that cheeky grin.

[kizzywh]

Ever After (Spencer Reid x Reader)

This switches between two points of view.

Content Warnings: suicide attempt, mentions of self-harm, mentions of kidnapping and torture, some angst, happy ending. DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS POST IF IT WILL TRIGGER YOU. FANFICTION ISN’T WORTH YOUR MENTAL HEALTH. 

Your Pov

I’d never expected to make it this far. Working in the BAU had been a dream come true. That is, until it wasn’t. I loved the team, even Hotch, who sometimes made himself impossible to love. But the person I loved the most was Spencer Reid. His dorky outfits, and the way he brushed his brown hair from his golden sun drops of eyes. Brown didn’t begin to do Reid justice. He was like an autumn day, like leaves in a puddle, after a rainstorm. The way his lips quirked into a soft smile, usually directed at something stupid I had said. Those lips that I could’ve kissed a thousand times. But I never did. He was the first person I wrote my note to. I left it on his desk, in a small brown envelope, tinged with sadness, but sealed with finality. There was only so much one person could take.

The last case had almost killed me. working on a case where I looked so similar to the unsub’s usual type, y/h/c hair, y/e/c eyes, it was a recipe for disaster. But I thought I could help. Get on the inside, destroy the unsub from the inside, out. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

~ 2 weeks earlier ~

“Guys, it’s the only way. None of you look like his type, and it’s the only way we can stop him from hurting more people.” I said, leaning back from the table in the round room. It was a local case, meaning we were all in our usual office. A pleasant change from taking the jet, I’d admit. I could see Spencer almost visibly balk at my suggestion, and he was quick to try to shut me down. “Absolutely not, y/n. it isn’t safe.” He stated, almost pleading with the room to agree with him; but of course, everyone knew just as well as he did that it was the only way.

“I don’t like it, but I cannot see another way to handle this case.” Hotch had finally sighed, a frown briefly passing over his darkened features; before he’d agreed, and you had soon found yourself in a local bar, taking in the view, with a small microphone on your stomach, with a gps in it, so you could immediately get back up. The team had stayed back in the round room. Somehow Garcia had managed to find glasses with a microscopic camera in them, so they could see exactly what I was seeing. I knew who I was looking for. Mysterious, charming man, with the social skills to charm whatever lady he wanted, and I could say that I was looking good, thanks to the makeover provided by Emily, JJ and Pen. Morgan had wolf whistled the second I walked out, in a tight-fitting red dress, and my hair curled. Even Hotch and Rossi looked impressed. Reid however, refused to meet my eye, almost choking on his words as he wished me good luck. Typical Reid.

Soon, a tall man approached, with a drink in hand, and sat by my side at the bar. “You are quite possibly the most beautiful woman in here, what is your name?” he asked, pulling out the full charm. I made sure to gaze into his eyes, so the team could see his face, before replying, “Bea.” The team had agreed I go with a fake name. It wasn’t worth the extra confusion. We chatted for a while, and I had to admit he was charming, easy to see how he had seduced so many women. He offered a drink, and I took it, knowing I’d watched the bartender pour it myself. It was safe. Or so I had thought.

He took the time to introduce himself. “Daniel, my lady.” It would’ve brought a blush to my face, except I knew what he was, and it almost repulsed me, but I had to play into the act. Laying a hand on his arm and laughing at what he said seemed to do the trick, because soon he was asking if I’d like to get out of this flashy bar. I nodded, making sure to keep an eye on him, as I followed him to the car. I was nervous, but I knew the team were right with me. They could extract me as soon as I had arrived at the unsub, or Daniel’s, holding location.

I begin to feel very sleepy as I get into the car, almost tripping on the step, but soon I am seated, and I felt so out of myself, that I didn’t notice the car lock turning, leaving me alone, in his car, with a monster himself. Trying to force my eyes open, I try to make conversation with him, acting flirty, but mostly, I almost forget why I am here. I am so tired.

When I awake, I’m tied to the ceiling, hanging by my wrists, and I almost cry out in pain. My glasses are gone, and a blurry figure falls into my vision. “You thought you were clever, eh y/n? you thought I wouldn’t guess your little game? Well, now your friends back at the bureau get to see what I can do to you, and there’s no way they can find me now.” That was the last of it I heard, before blows from a blunt object start hitting my body, and I fall unconscious again.

~ Back at the Office ~

“Guys, we have a problem. y/n’s tracker is going off in a parking lot, but her camera isn’t working, and I have no sound, I don’t think its connectivity issues, but oh my god, I think something is wrong.” Penelope almost shouted as she ran into the bullring. The team looked up, and Hotch was first to stand. “What do you mean it isn’t working, where is she Garcia?” hotch frowned, before going to the board. “The last coordinates, what are they for?” Penelope was close to tears, “it’s just a carpark, I’ve sent the coordinates to your phones, please find her. Please.” She sobbed out, before running back to her office to keep checking for any signs of life.

Emily was furious. She almost lost her mind when she found out y/n had disappeared. “We should’ve sent someone with her. Where the Hell is she and what is he doing to her?” she fumed, as JJ just slumped down in her chair, and even Derek couldn’t form a sentence or something clever to say. Spencer however, nearly broke. Y/n was one of his favourite people. She always got him his morning coffee and lent him books he’d finish within about ten minutes of being given them. They were like twin flames, and he adored her. Of course, he couldn’t tell her that. He got up and walked away, over to the kitchen, biting his lip so hard almost drew blood. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t feel, he was just numb. She had to be okay. She had to be.

The team could see spencer spiralling, and Morgan and Rossi were soon on the way to y/n’s last coordinates, while the rest of the team gathered in the round room. “So, what do we know about this guy anyway?” JJ asked, pointing to the board, expecting Spencer to reply instantly, but he just whispered after a brief pause, “rape, torture, murder.” Those three words were killing him. Who knew what they were doing to her?

“Guys. GUYS. We have a feed, it’s coming from a proxy server so I can’t triangulate it right now, but its y/n. I’m sharing it to the board now.” Garcia piped down the phone, staying in her office to try and keep herself calm. And sure enough, there was y/n on the screen, hung from the ceiling, while the unsub looked into the camera. “You thought you were so clever, sending Agent y/n in to see me? well. Boy, do I have a show for you.” He smirked, before walking over to y/n and tilting her chin. “My, she is truly remarkable, I am going to enjoy this.” He laughed, taunting the camera. A call came in from Morgan and Rossi. “Are you seeing this video of y/n?” Morgan yelled down the phone. “It’s being sent to all our phones.” And sure enough, it was. All you could hear was Y/n refusing to cry, as the unsub cut into her with various knives, and soon it was too much for her to handle. Her screams filled the round room. Penelope was sobbing, and so was JJ. Emily was so angry; she almost threw her paper on the floor. Hotch just looked pale, and Spencer, he almost threw up.

“Garcia, triangulate it NOW.” Hotch ordered, and Penelope obliged, sobbing through her tears, before shouting out some coordinates. “Go get her guys. Please.” Before hanging up and sitting in her office, her heart breaking.

Reid was the first in the car. He was furious, but he was terrified. The camera feed had cut off almost at the same time Garcia had read out the coordinates. Who knew what they’d find. “Right, when we arrive, the priority is taking down Daniel. He could hurt the rest of us otherwise.” Hotch ordered as they pulled up.

Your POV

I didn’t know how long I had been in this room, all I could smell was blood, and sweat, and I was in agony. I couldn’t stop the tears from falling, it was pain, it was torture, and he just wasn’t stopping. “Now, they think they know where we are y/n, so let’s give them something to see when they get here huh?” Daniel grinned, before continuing to cut and beat me. I didn’t think I could take much more. I heard vaguely the slamming of car doors, and I heard. “Daniel Carter. Put the knife down, and step away.” it was hotch. They had found me.

Then I felt the coldness of a blade against my neck. “If you shoot me, your precious agent dies too.” Daniel laughed coldly, pressing it almost deep enough to draw blood. I tried not to move; I was too exhausted to. The last thing I heard was a gunshot and felt the sharp graze of the knife on my neck, and Daniel drop to the floor next to me before I slipped back into a world of darkness.

Spencer’s Pov

Almost barging through the house, to the basement where y/n was, I could feel the tension in my head. She had to be safe. She is all I have. Pointing a gun at Daniel, I can see her hanging there, and it takes all my strength not to push that son of a bitch out of the way and get her down. I don’t know how much blood she’s lost, but judging by the floor, it seemed to be a lot. Finally, Emily manages to sneak behind, and shoot Daniel, and I push past them all, reaching for y/n, and fumbling with the restraints, before Hotch helps me gently remove her, and I carry her, bridal style, cradling her, shouting for medics. She opens those beautiful eyes and smiles at me, and I beg her to stay with me. she’s so cold.

~ Present Day~

Your Pov

I had made a full physical recovery, but mentally, it had destroyed me. I had nothing left to give. That’s why I had written the final note to Spencer. He had to know how I felt, before I was erased from this life, like the blood from a crime scene. Sitting on that lonely bridge, in the moonlight, I felt a sense of peace. This was really happening, I couldn’t fix my brain, but right now, I felt peaceful, calm. As if the last moments of my life were destined to be some calm ending to a tumultuous tale. I can hear owls in the distance, calling for their families, and I briefly recall the lack of my own family. Maybe it was just the way I was, maybe I was just unlovable, unfixable.

Spencer’s Pov

I was surprised to see a note on my desk, but I immediately unsealed it. Then froze. Y/N. she was going to hurt herself, commit suicide. There wasn’t time to call the team. I knew where she’d be. She thought I didn’t love her, and that she was going to be alone, she couldn’t heal herself from the wounds that that monster had inflicted on her. I ran for my car, driving well over the speed limit to the bridge, pulling up a few yards away, so as not to startle her into something impulsive, before beginning to walk toward her, my eyes adjusting to the darkness. There was something almost angelic in how she looked in the moonlight. “y/n. y/n, listen to me.”

Your Pov

There was a crunching on gravel, and as I look up, its Spencer. I cursed myself for choosing a bridge about which we had talked. He liked the architecture, the simple, almost British cobblestone bridge. I liked that it looked like something out of a fairy tale and thought it fitting that this would be the never after of mine. The moon bounces off his messy brown curls, and it almost makes me sigh. He never fails to look handsome, not even in the pale, watery light of the moon. “y/n. y/n, listen to me.” I heard him say, before he gently holds his hands up, walking closer. “You don’t have to do this.” He states, trying not to scare me, I note. “I do spence. I can’t do this alone.” I sob, shuffling closer to the edge. He panics, before breathing in, and walking to within touching distance. “I care about you, y/n, please, just listen to me.” but I can’t. I have to go now. I push forward, ready to fall into nothingness. But something, someone, is pulling me back. Spencer. He grips me tightly, falling to the path side and lays on the ground, clutching me close, I try to resist, but I can’t. I lie there with him, listening to both of our heavy breathing, and noticing those dragon puffs of air that only happen, when the air is crisp. He pulls us up to a sitting position and holds me by the waist.

“y/n. no. You’re not doing anything alone. I am here. I got your note, and I KNEW what you were going to do. Do you think I don’t love you? You couldn’t be more wrong.” He whispers against my hair, his lips pressed to my head gently. He reaches a slender hand to point at the moon. “You see that?” I nod, following his gaze, as he keeps an arm around me, holding me to him. “That is what we share. You are my moonlight. We are like the sun and the moon, constantly orbiting each other, sharing the same sky, somewhere. I love you; y/n. believe me. from the moment you walked into the office on your first day, almost tripping over my satchel and spilling your latte in my lap, I loved you.” He whispers more, stroking slow circles on my shoulder. I laugh at the memory. It hadn’t been one of my proudest moments. Even hotch had cracked a smile at it.

The breeze picked up, and spencer shivered, pulling me closer, and instinctively, I rest my head on his shoulder. “Spencer. I love you.” I mumbled, and he turned me to face him, smiling down at me with those golden eyes, almost hinted with silver in the moonlight. He’d never looked more angelic, and I told him that, his lips quirking into a smile, my favourite dimples on his cheeks. “I love you too y/n.” before softly, his lips brushed against mine, I kissed him back, shyly. This was what kissing spencer Reid was like? It was… magical. He gently increased the pressure of the kiss, cupping my chin with one of his hands, and I almost melted. I was hurting. And part of me didn’t think it would go away anytime soon, but I knew, and spencer knew, that he was never going to be far from me again.

The bridge had turned out to have a happily ever after, after all.