#*arranges pillow pile so lovelies can come chill with me*

[skyloftian-nutcase]

I'm coming in really late to this discussion because I was on hiatus, but here's my two cents, for what it's worth.

I saw somewhere in the notes that somebody had mentioned the fandom was far more alive a few years ago because we were all more locked in our homes due to COVID, and I think that is a hugely important thing to bear in mind. I myself was more locked in because of online school at the time.

I feel like LU is a fairly fluid fandom. People come, it's fun, some big dumb drama happens, people leave. Obviously many stay through it all, but I think some people are more conflict averse than others so we all kind of just find our corners to hunker down in and don't interact all that much as a result. Which, in turn, might make newcomers not interact as much either. I know I personally do not want to deal with conflict at all on this site - I come here to relax and have fun. The instant I smell drama, I'm out. So I very much stick to my corner.

And continuing on the fluid fandom thing, it isn't just drama, people's interests simply change. LU stretches years of story, and a lot can happen in that time, so people come and go.

I think more interaction would be fun! But I admit, I definitely do not have big energy reserves to pool a bunch of effort into purposefully reaching out to a bunch of people. So I suppose that's on me. I post and let people come talk to me, I try to interact with people who regularly reach out to me, I've made some friends as a result and have found I'm pretty content with that. Everyone is welcome to chat with me, and interactions are very fun and I encourage them! I'm just a naturally quiet and tired individual lol. Sky is relatable to me for a reason.

For everyone who’s worried about interacting with people on tumblr I have a pro tip:

Use ask games!! Literally the lowest entry bar.

And if that’s still too much, I got nothing 😂 just please don’t expect creators to come track down everyone who secretly wants to be friends 🫠 I see my mutuals post them pretty often so there’s a good chance you have an in with them at some point.

[batfamtv]

me after writing smut: is this who i am? is this who i represent? lmao i've never written smut until trese, i guess the thirst was too much, let me know how y'all like it! thank you so much for all your support, ily <3

(ﾉ´ з `)ノ

kambal x reader; established relationship

gif by @rasputinaillyanna (see their original gifsets here!)

sfw

the three idiots

seriously, alexandra feels like she keeps aging 20+ years whenever you three are together and goofing around

this is one of the reasons why you’re not allowed on the field with them, they’d get absolutely nothing done

that, and the twins simply wont put you in danger under any circumstances

alexandra also treats you like a sister (in law) and wants you safe, but can only do so much to keep you out of their lives since you still find ways to help them out

absolutely rowdy when you’re with basilio, you and him practically have a lot of inside jokes and a secret language

people would give you both weird looks when you’re out in public, just because you’re both so damn loud

with crispin you’re more mature (but not a lot), he does these grand gestures like taking you out on expensive dates, takes instagram/pinterest style pics of you

basilio also takes pics of you, but those are some of the most unflattering ones that he sends to your groupchat as memes

the ppl who arent familiar with your relationship with the twins are almost often confused when they see you with just the one twin: they’d think “huh i saw this couple a week ago, but i could have sworn the boyfriend had much shorter hair, it couldn’t have grown that long in a week, right?”

when you do go out with the twins, they flank you and you almost get squished in between them, so sometimes you have to push them both to the sides so that you would have space to move around

the three of you like to just chill at the mall sometimes, go window shopping and then eat samgyup/mang inasal later on

other times when you manage to drag alexandra with you, people would assume that you guys are on a double date, and alexandra has the ugliest/most disgusted look on her face as she corrects them “these are my brothers” “im gay”

in your groupchat (just you and the twins) crispin is the sweet, doting one who would text you “have you eaten?” “want us to pick something up for you on the way home?” while basilio sends you memes and selfies of the twins

they send you videos and pics of pets they meet “today we met brownie and blackie”

with regards to living arrangements, the twins have separate rooms (basilio’s is the messy one, smells weird)

when you moved in, alexandra offered you your own room, and most of the time that’s where the boys stay anyway

the bed is much larger than theirs because it needs to accommodate all three of you

you three try to cook meals for ate alexandra, but it almost always turns out disastrous - mostly when basilio insists on helping

so you always make him run errands (“can you go pick up some more garlic and magic sarap”) while you and crispin man the stoves

you braid basilio’s hair while crispin tunes his guitar!!

and you spend a couple of hours listening to crispin play the guitar, basilio’s head now resting on your lap

crispin’s movie taste are like *film* and *poetic cinema* while basilio might enjoy movies that are so bad they’re good, but you three are all suckers for superhero ensemble movies and horror movies

the boys become really annoying when watching filipino horror movies because they like to point out mistakes in the film “aswangs dont do that” “why would you go there all alone are you stupid???”

“please boys i just wanna watch the movie”

a huge cuddle pile

both boys run hot, so during cold nights (that never happen, bc you live in the philippines) you’re all warm and toasty between them

both light sleepers! they were pretty heavy sleepers when they were kids/teenagers, but the occupational hazard of their jobs require them to be ready at a moment’s notice

they still, however, snore quite loudly

crispin doesn’t ever tend to move positions when sleeping, he wakes up in the same position he fell asleep in

basilio rotates around the bed like hands of a clock

most often falls off the bed, but clumsily climbs back up and cuddles you

really really simpy when it comes to you, though most of the time it’s just you three sharing one brain cell (it’s with you, mostly), they can be quite romantic and cheesy if they want to

crispin probably has his brother as just “Basilio” on his phone, and “Y/N ❤️" for you

basilio has “my love ❤️😍😘💘 ” for you and crispin’s number isn’t even registered lol

nsfw under the cut

nsfw

threesome? threesome

boys barely do anything separately and usually just have a Single Thought in both their heads, so if one is horny, the other one is 69% (lol) horny as well

you realize that crispin doesn’t like to be teased at work, but basilio enjoys it so much

you find this out when you’re alone and horny, so you send a pic of you touching yourself to the boys in your groupchat

crispin sees it first, but doesn’t say anything?? he honest to god just left you on read

meanwhile basilio also sees your pic not too long after and you quickly get a “what the fuck” as a reply from him

like 10 mins later he sends you a pic of him in what looks like a washroom and his cock is straining in his pants

he texts you “had to find a washroom so fucking fast so that ate alex and the police captain doesn’t see me so fucking hard in my pants” and “wanna eat you pussy babe”

crispin does text you when the three are on their way home, not mentioning the picture you sent “we’re on our way home”

and at first you thought he is mad at you bc he didn’t bring the nude up?? does he not want you anymore :(

but the moment they arrive crispin all but sprints to your shared bedroom and sees you there, in your underwear

holds your cheeks in one hand, “what the fuck was that baby, hmm? what did you send us?”

you try to ask if he’s mad bc you sent him a nude, ask him if there’s anything wrong, but he just lets your face go as he takes his suit off, basilio finds his way to your room, locks it, and gives you a kiss

basilio whispers “missed you baby” against your mouth before moving away to undress

crispin, now fully naked in front of you, makes you suck his cock, which is hard and twitching, its tip leaking with precum, he makes you place both his hands on your head, “do you know how surprised i was when i saw a text from you and it’s a picture of you touching your cunt? hmm?” he sighs as he sees you looking up at him, eyes watering as you struggle to take all of his cock down your throat “i had to stop myself from getting hard in front of everyone, baby, basilio couldn’t even do that”

basilio huffs but the boys reposition you so you’re in bed and on your back, crispin kneeling to your side, his cock still throbbing in your mouth, basilio positions himself between your thighs, moaning when he sees how wet you are

basilio removes your panties before rushing to sniff your cunt, groaning in delight--you’re sure his eyes roll to the back of his head before he dives into your cunt

you moan into crispin’s cock and he grunts, shoving more of his cock into your mouth, now moving faster, “i really wanna cum down your throat baby, would you let me?”

you nod and he pushes his cock all the way into your mouth, your nose practically touching his groin and pubes

you gag, for a moment panicked as you try to breathe in, while crispin just eyes you, his cock growing ever harder when he looks at your face wet with tears and drool, he grabs your hair, softly at first, to make sure you’re okay, and when you nod crispin groans as he sets up his pace, groaning as he feels his orgasm building

basilio, meanwhile, is licking and sucking your clit with three fingers knuckles deep in your cunt, and when he starts to feel you spasming, a telltale sign that your orgasm is approaching, he pulls his mouth and fingers out and quickly replacing them with his fat cock

immediately, you and basilio both groan, your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel yourself so full of cock

basilio curses under his breath before taking your legs and resting them against his shoulders “fuck, y/n, im sorry i’m not gonna last long” “your pussy got me so fucking hard you tasted so good baby, you know how much i love your little pussy, right?”

crispin groans at this before he pulls his cock out of your mouth, leaning down to kiss you, he then moves down your neck and your tits, making sure he marks your chest

basilio whimpers and thrusts three more times before releasing a long groan, his cum exploding deep in your pussy “fuck baby you feel so good” he manages to pull out and you see his cock wet with his cum and your juices before settling beside you, panting harshly

you barely had the type to recuperate before crispin flips you on your stomach, making sure your face is resting on the pillows before he thrusts into you with a grunt

“fuck, still a tight little pussy after basilio rammed your cunt, huh?”

your eyes rolling, you couldnt do much other than hold onto the sheets and basilio’s hand, moaning loudly when you feel crispin’s fingers on your clit

“can you take one more, y/n? can your pussy take one more load?”

speechless, you nod, trying to grind your ass against crispin’s hips, but his hands on your hips hold you firm

he grunts approvingly, “good baby, take it deep in your pussy okay? and cum on my cock, baby, i wanna feel it”

you cum on his cock, almost violently, and twins groan at the sound of your moaning, and the sight of you spasming and shaking on crispin’s cock

a couple of deep thrusts later, crispin also cums deep into your pussy, his cum now mixed with basilio’s

crispin moves to get a washcloth to clean the three of you up, before all three of you collapse in bed, huddled together, basilio with his arms wrapped from behind--already falling asleep, you rest your head against crispin’s arm

“so, no more nudes when you’re at work?”

crispin laughs softly before pressing a kiss on your forehead, “unless your cunt is ready to take two cocks at once, no nudes when we’re at work”

[hispipsqueak]

Happy New Year

Bakugo x F! Pregnant Reader Fluff

Summary:

You and Bakugo have been keeping a secret, and plan to reveal it at your New Year’s Party.

A/N: Here’s some sweet fluff to end the year. I have a soft spot for Dad!Bakugo and had to write something adorable for him. I hope you enjoy it and your new year is full of happiness and love! Also, I had to look up so much stuff about pregnancy. I hope no one finds my search history :P

TW: Pregnancy. mild cursing. Otherwise, super mega fluffy!

“Why do they have to come over?!” Bakugo grumbled for the thirtieth time. 

You looked up from the pan you were currently scrubbing. 

“Katsuki...they’re our friends! Plus, we are going to announce the big news.” You looked down at your small baby bump.

You and Bakugo had found out you were going to be parents nearly 5 months ago and you both were extremely excited. You had waited to tell everyone until it was deemed safe by your doctor and with the new year approaching, you figured it would be easy to gather everyone you loved to spill the news.

Of course, Bakugo was going to make it difficult though. 

You knew he was just as excited as you about the addition to your little family, but whereas you were open about discussing all your fears, thoughts, and anxieties, Bakugo was a little more closed off and channeled the extra stress into other things.

You went back to washing the dishes and felt your husband’s biceps wrap around your body, his hands softly resting on your belly. He nuzzled into your neck.

“We could just send a text and stay in together. Watch the fireworks from the balcony, relax. Plus, are you sure you want those loud idiots stressing you and the baby out?” He murmured into your ear.

You giggled and swatted him with the dish rag. 

“I literally live with a walking explosion and you’re worried our friends are too loud? I mean sure, maybe Present Mic, but I doubt he doesn’t already have plans.” You trailed off, before he spun you around and lifted you up, bridal style.

“That’s enough, off to bed with you mama. You’re too snappy tonight and clearly not thinking straight.” He chuckled as you squealed into his chest.

“‘Tsuki, you’re so annoying!” You laughed as he gently tossed you into bed.

He crawled on top of you, pressing your body into the soft mattress and mountains of pillows you insisted on sleeping with.

“I may be annoying, but I’m also the father of this little brat inside you.” He muttered, vermillion eyes shining. You smiled up at him.

He had grown up a lot since your UA days. While he still had his hot-headed moments, he was playful and more considerate of your feelings and you knew he was going to be an amazing father. He even changed his screensaver on his phone to your sonogram, though he would never admit it. 

“We’re gonna have fun, babe. It’s gonna be a good night with all our friends and we can finally be open about the baby. Plus, it’d be nice for our kid to meet all their aunts and uncles.” You grinned, thinking of how your friends would react to this.

Katsuki groaned, rolling over. “Kiri is gonna fucking cry, I know it.” 

You laughed and curled up next Bakugo. 

“Yeah...probably.”

-------

New Year’s Eve was finally here. You had been busy preparing everything for the party tonight and your heart fluttered at the idea of sharing your big news with everyone. Bakugo had to finish up some last minute stuff at the agency so he was going to be home right before the party began. You were pulling another tray of baked sweets out of the oven when your phone chirped.

You glanced over to see another message from your group chat with the girls.

Mina: Can’t wait to see you Y/N, I MISS YOU

Momo: Are you sure you don’t need us to bring anything? We don’t want to be bad guests.

Ochaco: We can also help set up if you need us to! 

Y/N: I’m totally fine. Katsuki arranged for food to be delivered and Sero and Kirishima are picking up all the drinks for tonight. Just bring yourselves!

Y/N: Also yes, before you ask, I am making cookies.

Mina: HECK YES! :)

They started arranging transportation plans and you clicked your phone off, to focus on transferring the cookies onto a cooling tray. Once that was settled, you jogged upstairs to get dressed. Luckily, you weren’t really showing yet so your friends wouldn’t immediately know when you greeted them, but you still wanted to wear something loose and flowy.

You settled on a deep red dress that cinched right under your chest and opened in an A-line skirt. You rifled through your jewelry box until you found the necklace Katsuki had given you for your birthday. It was a large black teardrop shaped diamond on a simple thin silver chain. You reached behind your back to clasp the necklace and felt a warm hand enclose yours.

“I didn’t even hear you come in.” You smiled looking at your husband in the mirror. He finished attaching your necklace and met your eyes. 

“I just got here. The food’s here too, so everything’s done. I just need to get dressed.” He said, twirling you around so you were facing him. He rubbed your tiny bump. “How’s the brat been today?”

“Surprisingly chill. Though the baby did require a couple pints of ice cream for breakfast.” You laughed.

“Uh-huh...blame it on the baby.” He chuckled and gave you a kiss on your forehead. You could smell the scent of his body wash, a spicy cinnamon musk combined with his natural caramel scent. He must have showered at the agency and you buried your face in his chest, enveloping yourself in him.

“Stop sniffing me like a dog, crazy woman.” He flicked you on the head and you pouted. He crouched down so he could kiss your belly.

“I’m sorry your mama is nuts.” He laughed before pressing his lips to your stomach. 

You smiled. Though you were excited to tell your friends about the news, you kind of loved having this little secret just between you two. These moments, with just you, Bakugo, and the baby, were magical and felt so...pure. Untainted from anything.

-----

“We’re HERE!” Mina’s voice echoed through your entryway. She was dressed in a gold sparkly jumpsuit and her aura just screamed “Happy New Year”. She was followed by Momo, dressed in a sparkly green dress and Tsu, who wore yellow sundress. Soon the door opened again and Ochaco was ushered in by Deku. You grinned at her blushing face. Her and Deku had finally admitted their feelings for each other after years of pining and they were adorable together. She had on a cute pink knee-length dress that matched Deku’s tie, which contrasted nicely against the dark teal suit he wore.

The rest of your friends piled in slowly afterwards, with Sero and Kirishima carrying cases of booze. You had made sure to stock your house with plenty of non-alcoholic drinks as well but you knew the rest of your friends planned to party hard, since it was rare to all get together.

Once everyone made it in, and Iida stopped arm chopping at Denki for some unknown broken social rule, Kirishima raised his beer.

“Can we just toast to Y/N and Bakubro, for hosting this party? It feels like a million years since I’ve seen you guys.”

You giggled and looked at your husband. He rolled his eyes and looked at you nodding. You turned back to the group.

“Actually, we invited you here because of something else…” You looked down at your belly, and heard gasps.

“ARE YOU…?”

“You’re…?”

“Wait what…?”

Bakugo looked exasperated with the suspense.

“We’re having a baby, idiots.”

A loud cheer erupted from your friends and immediately you were swarmed by the girls, asking a million questions. The guys were clapping Bakugo on the back and as expected Kirishima was already tearing up.

“So manly bro. You’re gonna be the manliest dad!” He sobbed while squeezing Bakugo in a tight hug. Sero and Denki snickered watching this. 

“Get off of me idiot. I’m not the pregnant one.” Bakugo growled trying to pry the redhead off him. Kirishima turned to you and started hugging you tightly. 

“I’m so proud of you guys!”

“You’re proud of them for —”

A ribbon of tape wrapped itself around Kaminari’s mouth before he could finish his sentence. You threw a grateful look toward Sero, who grinned over his beer.

The rest of the night turned into an impromptu baby shower, with everyone fawning over you two. You were asked a zillion questions, everyone offered to babysit, and even Todoroki offered his quirk if you ever needed pain relief (which Bakugo immediately shot down).

“I can take care of my own wife, IcyHot Bastard.” He grunted through his teeth. You smacked Bakugo upside the head before apologizing to Todoroki. You placed your hand back to rest on your belly and felt a small flutter. 

“Holy shit...babe!” You’re mouth dropped. Immediately, the room went quiet and Bakugo rushed to your side. 

“What, what’s wrong??!” He placed his hand on your stomach and his eyes widened.

“The baby...the baby’s kicking.” You smiled, eyes pricking with tears. The two of you looked at each other and you could see tears threatening to spill from your husband’s eyes. He grabbed your face in his hands and kissed you deeply, seeming to forget where he was.

“I love you, I love you both so goddamn much” He whispered to you, before kissing you again. 

“Bro, you’re gonna make her have twins!” Kaminari yelled out, before being smacked in the head by both Mina and Kirishima. You giggled and pulled your husband close to you, before he blasted his friend out of the house. 

“Guys, it’s almost midnight!” Momo said looking at her watch. “Ten…”

“Nine…”

“Eight…”

You looked around at all your cheering friends.

“Seven…”

“Six…”

You looked at your husband, who gave you a soft smile back.

“Five…”

“Four…”

You looked down at your baby bump.

“Three...two...one.”

“Happy New Year!”

[mockingjay34]

Writing request/prompt: Head scritches! Obi-Wan needs to soothe Cody somehow and he decides to try what he did with Anakin, when he was young AKA starts scratching his scalp and petting Cody's hair. How Cody will react, is up to you!

This was so sweet! I hope you enjoy!

Cody’s hands shook as he took off his armor. He moved slower than usual, snapping each piece off and placing it in a neat pile on the table beside him. Really, he should have arranged it on the armor form pushed in the corner of the room out of the way, but he knew the plastoid would rattle against the durasteel and that wasn’t a truth he was ready to face. So, stacked piles would have to do until he could tame the quivering of his limbs.

There wasn’t any reason for him to feel so on edge. The mission itself wasn’t horrible. Casualties were low and injuries were minor and they were on and off the surface of the dusty planet in the span of two days. It was the ideal mission for them to face. Somehow though, the calmer missions had the worst fallout. In an all out firefight, Cody could work through the adrenaline coursing through his veins. The feeling of blaster fire at the tips of his fingers was cathartic in its own right, and left him so exhausted he could barely stay awake on the transport back up to the ship afterward.

The calm ones were accompanied by a different kind of stress. The longer they went, the more the tension built at the back of his neck. His teeth chattered in his helmet and set his every nerve on edge, causing him to jump at every movement and sound. He focused in on every flit across his HUD until the muscles in his arms ached with the effort of following with his blaster.

And then nothing. No relief.

All the way back up to the Negotiator, Cody’s legs shook and and he shivered despite the sweat that had gathered at his collar from being packed in close with the other troopers. By the time he reached his room, it was as if electricity was shooting through his limbs and he wiggled his fingers nearly nonstop to relieve some of the energy.

When Cody was dressed down to nothing more than his blacks, he braced both of his palms against the table top and leaned forward, pushing his weight down until both of his shoulders gave a satisfying crack. He sighed in relief and stepped back as the door to the room slid open behind him. Cody jumped at the noise, ramming his hip into the table and causing it to rattle loudly in the silence. The piles of armor toppled and fell to a messy heap. 

Obi-Wan stepped in from the corridor beyond, head buried in a datapad. Although, he too flinched at the clatter, eyes slipping shut and jaw clenching in shock. “Hello, my dear,” he said. He smiled kindly at Cody and set his datapad on the side table. Cody tried to smile back at him, really he did. He was certain it looked more like a grimace than anything though. “Debrief didn’t take too long, I suppose?” Obi-Wan asked, holding his hand out for Cody to come closer.

Cody took the invitation for what it was and crossed the distance in a few long strides. He grasped at Obi-Wan’s hand for a moment before leaning in further, slipping his arms around his waist. “It wasn’t too bad,” he mumbled into Obi-Wan’s shoulder. Even wrapped up as close to Obi-Wan as he could get, Cody was viciously aware of the tremors that tore through his body in waves. 

“What’s wrong, my love?” Obi-Wan asked softly, bringing a hand up to rest at the back of Cody’s neck. He ran his thumb along the skin above his blacks, just barely grazing the curls at his hairline. Cody let out another violent shiver, his arms tensing around Obi-Wan’s waist.

Cody swallowed roughly. “I can’t stop shaking,” he replied. “It’s the adrenaline I think.”

Obi-Wan pulled back and looked at him for a long moment. “It’ll be okay. Come lay down with me for a bit.”

Cody glanced uncertainly at the bed pushed against the wall at the other side of the room. “I’m filthy though.”

“That’s quite alright,” Obi-Wan replied with a snort. “I don’t believe I smell like spring roses myself. That’s what the laundry is for, after all.” 

Cody shook his head in disbelief and allowed Obi-Wan to lead him to their bed. He came to a stop at the edge, staring uncertainly at the mounds of blankets draped across it.

“What’s wrong?” Obi-Wan asked. Cody shook his head but didn’t speak. He looked down and pinched at the bridge of his nose. 

“I-I can’t,” he said eventually. “Too warm. Too much.”

Obi-Wan nodded in understanding. He reached towards the middle to grab the blankets in his fist, then pulled them back until they fell from the foot of the bed, leaving only the top sheets fitted over the two small bunks they had pushed together. “Are the pillows okay?” He asked.

Sighing, Cody nodded his head and settled on the edge of the bed. He sat there uncertainly before he laid down and stared at the ceiling. The mattress sank under Obi-Wan’s weight when he laid next to him, close but not touching.

They remained in silence for several long moments, savoring the quiet darkness of their room. “I can’t calm down,” Cody said. “My jaw is shaking.”

Obi-Wan hummed softly. “How can I help?”

Biting back the aggravated tears that sprang to his eyes, Cody responded, “I don’t know.”

“Can I touch you?”

Cody let out a harsh breath. “Always.”

It took a moment for Obi-Wan to adjust them to his liking. He fluffed some pillows behind them and propped himself up on them. Then, he pulled Cody close to his side, resting his head against his chest. Cody melted into the hold, breath evening out almost instantly. From where his head rested, Cody could hear the beat of Obi-Wan’s heart and feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. Obi-Wan brought his hand to Cody’s head and brushed his fingers through his hair, dragging his nails across his scalp as he did. Cody shuddered, a chill prickling his skin with goose flesh. 

“Is this okay?” Obi-Wan asked.

Cody hummed into his chest, melting into his side as Obi-Wan swirled his fingertips through his hair. The feeling was intoxicating in a way he couldn’t describe. Every drag of Obi-Wan’s deft fingers made him feel heavier, more settled. Before he knew it, he had fallen finally, blessedly still.

“I used to do this with Anakin,” Obi-Wan explained, twirling a strand around his finger and letting it go to spring back into shape. “When I first took him on as my Padawan. He would get these awful nightmares and wake up in fits. He would have so much nervous energy and it was damn near impossible to get him back to sleep on his own. One night, I sat on the floor by his bed after one his nightmares and ran my fingers through his hair and he was out like a light. I’m convinced it would probably still work.”

Obi-Wan fell silent and waited for some sort of response but was met with nothing more than the sound of the air filtration system kicking on. He craned his neck to look down at Cody laying against his chest. His eyes were closed and his breath was deep and even. “Kind of like that,” he whispered. Obi-Wan sank back into the pillows and adjusted his hold on Cody, savoring the featherlight touch of his hair against his palm. Eventually, his eyes grew heavy and he gave in to the warmth of sleep.

[sisterspooky1013]

Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 21

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

“Hi,” she greets him as he walks in the door, “I have something for you.”

She’s perched in the armchair, a smile that’s coy and playful curling the corners of her mouth. He gives her a curious smirk as he slips off his shoes and overcoat.

“Okay, like a gift?” he asks, crossing the room to plant a kiss on her lips, stealing another to enjoy the warm feeling of her mouth against his, which is chilled from the wintery air outside.

She shakes her head as he goes into the bedroom, changing into sweats and a T-shirt.

“You’re going to have to find it,” she calls from the other room, and he smiles to himself.

This is his favorite version of her; playful and flirtatious, quick to smile and laugh. He loves all aspects of her personality, but the rarity of this one makes it feel special. She almost never acts this way in front of anyone else, even her family; it feels like it’s just for him. He moves to stand at the threshold of the living room, leaning against the wall.

“Are you going to give me a hint?” he asks, and she considers the question with a thinking man pose.

“Well, I will tell you that right now you are very, very, cold,” she finally says.

His eyebrows lift in understanding and he walks back into the bedroom.

“Colder!” she calls, and he moves to the kitchen.

“Still cold.”

He walks to her desk.

“Mmm, slightly warmer.”

Next he steps close to the fireplace.

“A little warmer.”

He turns to look at her and narrows his eyes. He takes a step towards her.

“Oh, warmer.”

He stands directly in front of her chair.

“Getting hot,” she says with a playful lilt to her voice.

He drops to his knees between her legs.

“Very, very hot.”

He slips his fingers into the waistband of her pants.

“On fire,” She says with a smile.

He moves to pull her pants down and the tips of his fingers meet with something foreign near the top of her thigh. He quirks his head quizzically, fitting his whole hand into her pant leg and pulling out two long strips of cardstock. Airline tickets.

“How do you feel about a California Christmas?” she asks hopefully, and he looks at the tickets to see that the destination is San Diego, December 22nd.

He knew that she and her mother had been talking about flying out to see Bill for the holiday, but he’d assumed that he’d be left at home.

“What about Priscilla?” he asks, both touched that she wants to include him in her family’s celebration and nervous about meeting her older brother, who he understands will hate him by default.

“We can ask the Gunmen to look after her,” she offers. “Unless you don’t want to come with me?”

He can tell by her tone that it’s not meant to be a way for him to opt out, but a test of his willingness to go. She clearly wants him to.

“Of course I want to go with you,” he replies, moving close and wrapping his arms around her waist. “I will admit to being a little worried about meeting your brother, and in his home, on his turf.”

She gives him a sympathetic smile. “Don’t worry too much about Bill. Missy and Charlie are going, and Mom of course, and they love you. I know Tara will too. So even if he does pull the big brother card and give you a hard time, we have strength in numbers.”

“Is Byers going?” he asks hopefully, and she shakes her head. “Missy only just barely told Mom about him. It’s too soon for them.”

“But not for us?” he asks with the smile he reserves for the times when she alludes to the seriousness of their commitment.

She shakes her head slowly. “Not for us,” she says.

———

“Oh my god, I’m going to lose my mind, Mulder.”

She’s pacing around the apartment, putting things into different piles and open suitcases, her level of stress palpable in the air.

“Honey, stop for a second,” he says, grabbing her by the shoulders and dipping his head to meet her eye. “Take a deep breath,” he instructs, waiting as she does so. “We don’t need to leave for the airport for another twelve hours,” he says, keeping his own tone calm and level to counter hers, “we have plenty of time to pack.”

“It’s not just the packing, Mulder, this entire week was a nightmare. Everything I was hoping to accomplish before this trip was waylaid in one way or another; I missed my doctor’s appointment because of an emergency autopsy and forgot to reschedule it before they closed on Friday, Trudy was out sick half the week so I had to absorb her workload, the dry cleaners lost the dress I was going to bring for Christmas Eve mass, Priscilla is out of food AND litter, and I can’t find my earplugs for the plane,” she rattles off.

He pulls her into a hug, feeling her relax a bit with the contact.

“I will go pick up cat food, litter and earplugs,” he says, pulling away to look at her again, “and I’ll remind you to call the doctor tomorrow and reschedule. Wear that blue dress with the little flowers on it to mass, it looks beautiful on you. And try to breathe,” he finishes, giving her a sympathetic smile.

She forces a small smile onto her mouth and takes another deep breath. “Thank you,” she says quietly.

He pours her a big glass of wine before bundling himself up against the cold and venturing out into the December night.

———

She glances at Mulder intermittently, watching for signs of overwhelm. She knows that coming from a small, dysfunctional family means that he’s not accustomed to the type of gathering they are currently entrenched in; the entire Scully clan plus Tara’s parents and brother, and several members of their church. He seems to be faring okay, sipping a beer while talking sports with Charlie and a few others.

As nervous as he’d been about meeting Bill, he was well prepared. Scully directed him to speak highly of the Chargers while eviscerating the Patriots, and to go easy on the PDA. While they aren’t exactly best friends, Bill doesn’t seem to actively dislike him, and they are calling that a win.

She’d fully expected them to be set up in separate rooms given Bill’s traditional family values, but the number of people who needed to be housed made that impractical. They ended up relegated to the guest room and a single twin bed, though the enormous stack of pillows and blankets arranged on it suggest that one of them is expected to make a bed on the floor. They don’t do that, of course, instead sleeping nested together like spoons, Mulder continuously making half-hearted attempts at getting frisky while she laughs and slaps his hand away.

They are dressed for midnight mass on Christmas Eve, Scully in her flowered blue dress and Mulder in one of his typical weekday suits. They sit in the pew between Mom and Charlie, hands clasped chastely on the bench between them, suppressing giggles as he leans over to warn her that he is at risk of bursting into flame. He traces patterns on her palm with his index finger and she realizes at some point that they are letters. She concentrates, trying to understand his message, expecting it to be ‘I love you’ or something similarly sweet. When she puts together that he is spelling out ‘sex tonight?’ she looks over at him with wide eyes and then purses her lips together tightly to keep from laughing, doing her best to glare at him.

They file sleepily through the door at nearly 2am, quietly going off into their respective bedrooms and pull-out couches, hoping to get some rest before Christmas festivities in the morning. Scully quickly brushes her teeth and washes her face before darting to the bedroom, wriggling under the covers and pressing her back against Mulder, her cold toes brushing against his shins.

“Hm, you’re cold,” he says softly, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her closer.

“Thanks for going to mass,” she whispers back, “it meant a lot to my mom to have all of us there.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” he answers, his breath hot on her neck, “it’s nice to feel like a part of a real family.”

She threads her fingers through his where they rest on her belly, squeezing his hand. She tries to go to sleep, but his chest rising and falling against her back and the heat of his groin tucked against her backside are distracting. She wiggles a little bit against him.

“Hmmm,” he responds, thrusting his hips against her gently.

She swore that she was not going to have sex at her brother’s house. She knows that they can go without for the week they are here. But as she feels him grow hard against her ass, the throbbing between her legs suggests otherwise. No doubt it’s exacerbated by the forbidden nature of the situation; the door doesn’t have a lock and the house is quiet and still, though packed with enough ears that the risk of being heard is high. When his lips press against the back of her neck, she knows she’s done for.

She reaches behind herself to slip her hand into his pajama pants, stroking him firmly as he breathes hard into her ear, suppressing the groan that she knows would normally result from her touch. He pushes his pants down to his knees with one hand, then hurriedly brings hers down as well. She emits a small gasp when he slips inside her, simultaneously pushing his hand under her pajama top to squeeze her breast.

“Jesus fuck, you’re wet,” he whispers harshly in her ear, and she wants to make a joke about not taking the lord’s name in vain on his birthday but when he starts pumping in and out deliciously slowly, the thought slips from her mind.

If he moves too quickly the bed squeaks, so he keeps a languid pace as he pinches her nipples and kisses her neck, then slides his hand down to play with her clit in the tight space between her legs, which are still pinned together by the pajama pants around her knees. It feels incredible, and yet the necessary slowness and need to stay quiet make her wonder if she will be able to come. As if intuiting this, Mulder withdraws momentarily, sitting up and freeing her top leg from her pants, then lies back down and hitches her ankle behind his knee; her favorite position. He pulls the blanket back over them for warmth and modesty, though if anyone were to walk in now they’d have no chance of plausible deniability. With more room to move, he resumes his slow strokes and pairs them with hard and fast circles around her clit, murmuring little affirmations into her ear so softly she can barely hear them, much less anyone else. The vibration of his voice, the slip of his cock, the rough brush of his fingers, all come together in crescendo as she stiffens in his arms, turning to muffle her cries against his mouth as she comes. Now able to focus on his own release, he continues to pump slowly, pressing his face into her neck and letting out a low growl as she feels him throbbing inside her.

He slips quietly out of the bed, retrieving one of his dirty T shirts and swiping it between her legs before he pulls her pajama pants back into place. They get comfortable again, the sexual tension that had prevented them from relaxing before now dissipated.

He kisses her cheek softly, murmuring “Merry Christmas, Scully,” into her ear just before she drifts off to sleep.

In the morning, they sit around the lit tree, drinking coffee and eating pastries as they shake off sleep.

“Is your house haunted, Bill?” Charlie asks, and Bill gives him a doubtful look. “I swear I heard some weird noises, like creaking and whispering, I felt like I was in a horror movie,” Charlie defends.

Scully hides her face behind her coffee cup, glancing over to see Missy giving her a pointed look.

“I’m sure it was just the Christmas spirit,” Maggie says jovially. “Who wants to open presents?!”

[gr0vndz3ro]

More

Bakugou x reader (NSFW)

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, cursing, angst, fwb, mentions use of alcohol, pining

Word count: 1,477

A/N: ahaha enjoy? Aaaaaaaaa this was my first angst 👀 I was just in jamming to some sad boy music and felt the need to write. This is just a little bit shorter but I hope you guys still like it. Characters are all 18+

Here is part two 👀: pt.2

Sweat drips from his chest. The room burning up and the smell of sex was prominent. His rough hands grip your waist, fingertips digging into the soft skin, sure to leave bruises in the morning. Lips on your neck leaving open kisses where ever he could reach. You could feel your heartbeat pounding in your chest, almost as loud as the thunder outside of the window. It was pouring outside, yet you barely hear it over the sounds coming from inside. 

Your back against his soft sheets, arched as he pounds into you, filling you with every thrust. This arrangement had been going on for about five months now. Calling each other up to come over whenever you needed to let off some steam or just wanted a good time. You had both known each other since high school and agreed on being fuck buddies one drunken night after a party Kirishima dragged the two of you to. The tension between you always high, but that just made the sex that much hotter. The release of emotions, frustrations and just pure hot sex. 

He learned every curve of your body, every blemish, every fold. He knew exactly what to do to make your toes curl in bliss. The way his hands grew to expertly travel your body. The way his lips kiss every sensitive spot knowing that it sends electric shocks throughout you. The way he makes you moan his name as if it was the same as breathing air. So natural and easy for you. A smirk always finds its way to his face as he watches you become putty in his fingers, vermilion eyes locked on yours as you come undone. The same red eyes that you were starting to see everywhere.

You could see him in everything. The roses in the flower shop down the road stare into you the same way he does as he watches you undress. The purr of loud cars in the street sending a chill down your spine like how he growls into your ear when you behave. When you step into the coffee shop the familiar smell of caramel surrounding you, caging you in like his broad chest and wide arms. 

You couldn’t escape him. Even in your home little trinkets of him left behind after you countless nights together. His favorite coffee in your kitchen. His own set of towels, body wash and shampoo in your bathroom. His very own drawer of spare clothes in your bedroom for emergency exits at midnight. The smell of him permanently on your spare pillow, engulfing you on the rare nights you were alone.

Even here laying underneath him you couldn’t help but stare at him, looking at all the little things you grew to be familiar with. You could recall all of the scars that litter his chest. The way that his face twists with pleasure when your hands tug on his hair. The sounds that leave his lips when you scratch down his back and when you give him massages after particularly rough days. 

You couldn’t do this anymore. You couldn’t keep pretending that you weren’t slowly falling in love for him.

A whimper catches in your throat as he kisses you with such an intense passion. Tongues fighting for dominance, as you felt both of you getting closer to your release. His pace picking up, pushing you over the edge, making you see white as you chase your high. The way you clench around him cause him to groan as he feels you milk out his release as well. You both stay there panting, trying to catch your breaths. Slowly he pulls out of you and flops down onto the bed next to you, his arms under his head as he closes his eyes relaxing. After a few minutes you sit up, pulling your legs off of the side of the bed, squeezing your eyes shut as you feel a burning sting in your eyes as tears threaten to spill out. You wanted more than this. You didn’t just want to be an object for him to fuck out all of his feelings.

You stood up from the side of the bed and walk over to the pile of discarded clothes and pull on your shirt. As you step into your pants and start pulling them up Bakugou opens his eyes at the sound of clothes moving. He rolls over when he notices you redressing, his brow lifting in confusion.

“Leaving so soon? Ha I thought I’d get at least another round or two in before you couldn’t take anymore” You stayed silent as you continued getting your stuff. There was a burning sensation at the back of your throat as you realized what you needed to do. He let out a chuckle, “Well if it was to much for you today we’ll just have to pick up right here next time.” You swallowed the lump in your throat and spoke up.

“There isn’t going to be a next time.” You barely manage to get out, no louder than a whisper. 

“What was that? I can’t fuckin hear you if you don’t use your words princess.” He was laying on his back, his arms behind his head again, a cocky smile on his lips, thinking that you were just being shy. You felt yourself getting angry at his nonchalant response.

“I said there isn’t going to be a next time Katsuki!” Your back to him as your grip on your stuff tightens, tears threating to spill from your eyes. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Bakugou was now sitting up looking at you, waiting for you to explain further.

“fuck- I can’t do this” tears start streaming down your face as you run out of his apartment. You make it out the front door as a hand grabs your arm stopping you. You turn around the tears on your face hidden by the streams of rain down your face. “I can’t do this any more Katsuki” 

“What do you mean? Did you find someone else or something?” The confusion still on his face.

“When we started this it was just supposed to be some fun for us with no string attached. I was an idiot if I thought it could be like that.” Wet hair sticking to both of you faces as you start getting soaked in the pouring rain.

“Well it can still be like that, nothings changed. Just fuckin come back inside, you’re gonna get sick or some shit out here.” He started pulling on your arm to bring you back inside. You rip your arm out of his grasp taking a step away from him.

“No! You don’t get it..” You pause taking a deep breath, pushing down the nauseous feeling in your throat as you speak up. “I can’t keep doing this with you. Pretending that its just sex. I can’t keep answering your beg and call because I just keep letting myself down, thinking that one time you’re going to want more than just my body. That you’ll wake up and realize how much you want me. That you’ll realize I mean as much to you, as you do to me.”

“But you do mean a-” he tries to speak but you cut him off.

“I love you Katsuki. But I know you... and I know you are never going to feel the same.” You confess to him. The silence between you louder than the rain bouncing off of the buildings. With every second that passes the sting in your eyes worsened. While you had said that you were hoping the blond would prove you wrong, but the ongoing silence was slowly proving you right. You tear your gaze away from the ground to meet his eyes, an unfamiliar look meets you. He goes to open his mouth but quickly closes it at a lose of words. 

A sigh falls from you as you turn away from him. “That’s what I had thought... bye Bakugou.” You walk off further into the rain. The rain hides the quiet sobs that manage to escape. Your arms wrap around you as you try to find some comfort, freezing cold. Not from the rain, but from the hole now in your heart. You kept running away, not looking back, because you knew that if you did it’d only be worse.

He watched as you tried to get as far away from him as you could, unable to remove himself from his spot. The words that he wanted to say still stuck in his throat, his inability to let down his guard and let someone in biting him in the ass. So he stood there, soaked in the pouring rain, as he watched as the only person that meant anything to him slipped through his fingers.

A/N:Part two is now up click here to read it (: Pt.2

[headinthestaticsky]

Frozen within the Night Wind: Jasper Hale x Fleur Swan, Book 3 Chapter 1

None of the characters in twilight belong to me, all rights go to Stephenie Meyer.

Summary: Fleur has never been in more danger than she has now. Not only does she have the revengeful and angry Victoria after her. But the Volturi is wanting to go after her as well. Will Fleur be able to stay human? Or will someone end up getting in her way?

"Baby, that isn't how they look tonight

It took the light absolutely forever to get to your eyes

And as we gaze skyward, ain't it dark early?

It's the star treatment."

Star Treatment, By The Arctic Monkeys

Those speckled stars in the midnight sky are my possibilities of life, my fate.

That ocean is the course I will float through. It may be choppy and rough.

Or that tide that the moons controls will take me under.

Now in days, it always felt like that moon was going to take me in the water, pushing me down deep. I had multiple targets on my back and many deadly people trying to shoot their shots toward me. It seemed I had grown numb to the idea of my heart not beating anymore. It felt like a fate I couldn't escape. I should've known this would happen... I was dating someone whose heart had stopped beating over a hundred years ago. I would never blame him for my problems, of course, he couldn't control my sister's mouth as much as I wanted him to.

My dreams had started to get strange...Anytime I was "in" Victoria she was always alone. I felt her resentment, nervousness, and the constant hesitance of the people around her. I was always wondering what had happened to that man she had bitten. Leah and I hadn't talked since her dad had ended up getting killed, I hadn't seen Seth either. Bella and I had been worse than we had ever been. Seeing her still makes me sick to my stomach and Edward made me just as sick too. But I knew something was coming...and I knew that we would all have to stick together, whether we wanted to or not.

I was currently making my way down to the Cullens, I wanted to see Rosalie and Jasper, and Alice too. I couldn't stand to be in that house by myself with Edward and Bella not too far away.

Tell me, how am I to feel? Tell me how... I don't know if I can chill I need to scream it loud

Female Energy PT2 by, Willow Smith

I pulled into the Cullen's driveway and jogged up to the door, knocking softly. Jasper had always told me I never needed to knock and that I could just come in but, it always felt wrong not doing it. I looked through the glass and saw Rosalie smiling, she had more bridal magazines in her hands. Ever since she found out Jasper and I had gotten engaged she was gung ho on planning our wedding. I was convinced she could be a professional wedding planner.

"Fleur! You came right on time." I walked into the house and took my sweater off.

"Glad I made it on time... my rule is when Edward enters the house, it's time for me to leave the house." I joked.

"Oh, I'm sure they're driving you nuts."

"You have no idea... Is Jasper here?

"No, he went on a hunting trip with Emmett, Esme, Dean, Carlisle, and Alice, they'll be gone for the rest of the night."

"Oh okay. What'd you find?" I asked gesturing toward the pile of magazines.

"I was looking at wedding dresses perfect for forest weddings, and when the best time to have weddings at, as well as things you shouldn't have in a wedding because they can cause bad luck."

"Rose... Alice is starting to rub off on you isn't she?" I said a smirk was plastered on my face.

"Yes... I think she is."

"So, what do they tell us about what are the best dresses to wear?"

"Well, I was seeing a lot of lace, and most the dresses were short."

"I like lace."

"Good, we've made progress."

"I was thinking about having Lilies of the Valley for the main floral arrangements."

"You are reading my mind Fleur."

We were scanning through different magazines, pointing out some things I would want to have. The distraction was nice but soon enough those same thoughts crept back into my head. Rosalie noticed this and a concerned look was replaced with her joyful one.

"What's going on in that head of yours Fleur."

I sighed

"I'm just freaked out about everything...and these dreams about Victoria aren't helping either."

"You've had more dreams about Victoria?" She inquired, her face was full of shock."

"Oh...I didn't say anything about that did I?"

"No...what's she doing?"

"Well, the first dream I had of her again was while all you guys were gone. She had attacked some man but didn't kill him. The dreams of her I've had recently are just her alone... she seems so nervous now."

"I wish I could help you out with whatever's going on but, I can't do anything for your dreams."

"It's not your fault Rose... I just wish I knew why my dreams have been so accurate when it came to things involving her. Well... there was one other thing, but I'm not sure if Jasper told you."

"What's it about?"

"I was having dreams the night you guys had left, one of them I was standing on a random street corner, and Jasper was there driving a car. When he got a second look at me I disappeared. He had called me in the middle of the night and asked me how I found him."

"Oh my god...are you sure you're fully human?" She asked playfully.

"I don't know what the heck I am at this point," I said, chuckling.

"I have to admit, it's impressive... I've never even heard a vampire being able to do that stuff."

"I wish I could control it, the dreams cut off after a while."

"I wouldn't worry about it, for now, it comes into use for us when we've reached dead ends. You have to be hungry, why don't we take a break from wedding planning?"

"Sounds good... I'm starving!"

After I had finished dinner, it was late so I had decided to spend the night there. I pulled out my phone and called dad, so he didn't freak out about anything.

"Hey Petal, I was just about to call."

"Sorry dad, I'm over with Rosalie... we spent too much time wedding planning. I'm going to spend the night here since it's so late." I explained.

"That's fine, tell Rosalie I said hi."

"I will love you, dad."

"Love you too."

"I'm going to bed Rose, I'll see you in the morning."

"Alright, sleep well." She said.

I went up to Jasper's room and collapsed on the bed the Cullens had gotten for me. I was roused awake slightly a few hours later, those familiar cold arms wrapped themselves around me. I fell back to sleep a few seconds later. I awoke the next morning, the sun was burning my face. It was one of those rare day's the sun decided to make an appearance in Forks. I groaned and buried my face in one of the cush pillows behind my head. I heard a deep chuckle from the doorway.

"You never were a morning person were you love?" I heard Jasper ask...not matter how long I was here on this Earth, I would never get tired of his voice.

"I don't wanna get up...you can't make me."

"I technically could darlin, I am a vampire you know."

"But you're a nice vampire...you love me too much to wake me up."

"Edward and Bella will be coming over soon..." I shot up and looked at him, a grin on his face told me he was joking.

"I take it back, you're mean."

"If it'll make it up to you...I'll make you breakfast."

"As nice as that sounds... I better go, dad is probably waiting for me."

"Okay love, I'll see you tonight." He said, I kissed him before leaving, I bid everyone a goodbye in the lounge room and made it toward my car. The long drive back was going well until my car had broken down.

"Aww damn it..." I said, getting out of my car. I was still in the forest, the dead leaves were crunching underneath my feet. Before I could open the engine however I heard another set of feet coming toward me. I looked up and locked eyes with someone who looked familiar to me... his eyes were blood red.

"Fleur Swan... we meet at last."

[scottfuckingreed]

It’s a Pogue Thing - Part Two

This is a JJ Maybank story :)

Requested

-

Warnings!: swearing and it gets sexual (SMUT)

-

“That’s disgusting,” Ki grunts as we watch JJ spit into an impressively far distance. Today we sailed to a small piece of island in the middle of the ocean. Between the blue sky, and the slightly green water it’s quite beautiful. Not a cloud in sight either, which is a somewhat odd thing for the Outer Banks. Some would call it peaceful, except we seem to hang around with complete animals. The JJ smirk spreads across his face. “You know you love it,” he winks. With a laugh, I sigh. “That’s even worse.”

You’d think it was awkward. I mean, how can you go from being friends, to sleeping together, back to normal again? I don’t know. Over the past week it’s been indifferent. Sure, it was a bit weird the first day. Maybe even the second. I’m still in shock that it happened. Once we cleaned up my house after the party, the ice was pretty much broken. We know where we stand with each other.

“Are you seeing Sarah today?” I ask John B. I notice Kiara roll her eyes so I flash her an ‘I’m sorry for bringing it up’ look. He clears his throat. “No... why would I be seeing Sarah today?” His tone comes off slightly defensive. I imagine it’s because Ki’s here, and he once had a thing for her? Maybe he still does. “I don’t know. Was she any help at the party?” We haven’t spoken much about the party; any of us. I, for one, am a bit relieved. “A little, but Topper started following us around,” of course. I’m not sure if she has him on a leash, or the other way around. “Still a good party though,” he nudged. If he thinks that’ll get me to throw another one, he can think again. “Thank JJ, I didn’t even wanna be there,” I laugh jokingly. “You can definitely thank me, you seemed like you had a good time in the end,” his words send shivers down my spine. I’m thankful for the concealer on my face as I feel my cheeks redden at his husky voice. “I don’t know, maybe it was the alcohol,” my head turns to his. “Maybe.”

We sail straight back to John B’s house. “You guy’s can crash here if you’d like,” he shrugs. With his dad gone, it’s a pretty empty house. I know we all fantasise about a parent-free life sometimes, but I can’t actually imagine the feeling of someone never coming home. “I’ve actually gotta go. My mum’s cooking dinner tonight... you guys hungry?” I ask. John B sends a warm smile my way. “Thanks, but I got left over pizza inside.” “Nice,” I laugh. I shift my eyes over to Kiara. “I think I’ll stay and help John B tidy up a bit.” If you visualise a teenage boy’s room, his entire house looks like that 24/7. Beer bottles, left over takeaway boxes, smelly ass clothing thrown around. “Suit yourselves.” I lock eyes with Pope, and I already know the answer. “You know my dad’ll kill me if I don’t get my ass home and check in.” A smile spreads across JJ’s face. “I’m not stupid enough to turn down mama Y/L/N’s cooking,” he chuckles.

As soon as we walk through my front door, my mum is all over JJ. She loves him. Usually the parents despise the boys like him. He’s the bad boy! But no. She still sees him as this cute, cheeky boy. “Mama Y/L/N! Long time no see,” JJ exclaims with a cute smile on his face, bringing my mum in for a hug. She squeezes him back in a tight embrace. “It’s been too long, how are you?!”

The conversation flows smoothly throughout dinner. It’s actually nice, not that I’d ever tell my mum that. She needs to think I’m embarrassed, when in reality I love that it’s so chill. “Did you guys enjoy the party the other night?” My mum asks as if it hasn’t been playing on her mind throughout the entirety of dinner. She’s asked me, but I won’t tell her anything. So, of course she asks JJ; he will answer. “Oh it was great! Y/N and I had a great time!” He smiles greatly. In a quick moment that my mum isn’t looking his way, he winks subtly at me. “Really? She hasn’t said much about it.” This is one of those moments where you wish you could send a telepathic message to someone. It would scream ‘stop before it’s too late’! “It’s probably because Rafe turned up.” There it is. I immediately just want to shrivel up and crawl away. My mum’s eyes widen. “Shit, I hate that guy.” JJ sends an agreeing nod. At least we’re all on the same page here. Like with other things, I’ve kept Rafe as much to myself as I possibly can from my mum. She knows he was nasty, but not in much detail. She knows he hurt me, but not in any specific way. In a very vague way, she knows everything she needs to. Just to hate him. “He’s a dick.” “This is why I like you JJ,” my mum pauses. Her face as she processes her possible next words. I raise my eyes brows in a warning manner.

After dinner, JJ offered to help my mum clean up. You may think it’s cute, but I know this boy’s games. He can’t fool me. “Are you staying to watch a movie JJ?” She asks, passing the boy a plate to dry. Before he can answer, I interrupt. “Can you give us a second actually, please?” I smile innocently towards her. Her eyes widen and she wiggles her eyebrows at me. “Sure.”

“What are you playing at?” I giggle. Recently, although I hate to admit it, JJ’s company has honestly been what I’m craving. Somehow a he’s so predictable, yet he surprises me every time. “I’m not doing anything Y/N, you’re reading into things.” He dries his last plate and puts the pile into a cupboard. Of course he knows exactly where they go. “You’re not staying for the movie,” I warn him. Even with my mum there, I don’t trust him. I don’t even trust myself. “What are you watching?” He asks. “I don’t know. I think my mum was on about watching ‘Now You See Me’ or something.” His face lights up. “Come on Y/N! I love that one.” I shake my head. I don’t want to want him here. “Please,” he sticks his bottom lip out. Because of my lack of reaction, he brings his head closer. He was so close that I could feel his breath on my face. A feeling that took me straight back to the party. A moment that I am trying so hard to not think about.

Unfortunately JJ has something about him. He’s painfully hard to say no to a lot of the time. So, here he is, helping bring down some blankets from upstairs. Despite the fact that our friendship should be ruined at this point. I’m starting to think that this may just be an exception. Why should it ruin everything? It was nothing. Before going back downstairs, I change into an oversized hoodie and some shorts.

My mum makes popcorn whilst we get things set up. Some soft blankets and even comfier pillows are arranged on the couch. I sit myself in the middle, with JJ on my right and my mum on my left. A part of me wanted to have my mum split us up, but that would’ve just looked strange. My eyes light up when I catch a glimpse of the popcorn bowl. “Let’s get started then.”

As the movie starts, I begin to get more excited. “I’m excited,” I smile massively. The more I think about it, the more hyped up I get. “I didn’t know this was your sort of thing,” JJ mutters with a smirk. Of course it’s a great movie, but that’s not what it is. “I watch it for the plot,” I smirk back. The plot being Dave Franco and Jesse Eisenberg. I express my love for the two beauties, only for JJ to simply state “I am so much better looking than them.” I snort at his words. “Whatever.”

20 or so minutes go by. My mum has already started nodding off, and I am beginning to get myself comfy. Without thinking, I nudge myself a bit closer to JJ. I didn’t even have to look at him to notice the growing smirk. The best thing, I thought, was to pretend I didn’t notice what I was doing. I bring my feet up, and lean them against his leg. A small noise exits JJ’s mouth, which sounded like a small chuckle. “Sorry I-” I start. My words pause at the touch of JJ’s fingertips. Even before they touched my bare thigh, I could feel their presence. “JJ,” instead of being a warning, my voice let’s put a wobbled whisper. “It’s fine,” he presses his lips together in a smile. I couldn’t tell his to move his hand away. I didn’t want him to. So I let him sandwich his hand between my thighs.

His hand, large and warm, sat nicely. It felt like an average thing. Every now and then he gently squeezed against my bare skin. Whirlpools. That’s the only way I can describe the way my stomach flipped. I thought, stupidly, that with my mum inches away it would turn everything off. Of course, that is not the case. JJ tries to be slick as he moves his hand further up my thigh. The first time, I do nothing. I’m not sure what to do. But the second, I cup my hand over his. Just as I’m about to tell him off in a whisper, my mum yawns. My heart jumps. “Shit guys, I should probably go to bed,” she stands and stretches. I try and make it look like JJ and I aren’t sitting so close. “You can stay over though JJ, finish the movie.”

My mum wanders out the room. We’re silent as we hear her footsteps all the way upstairs. Until her bedroom door shuts. “You’re not sleeping over,” I try not to smile as I say those words. The truth is, these little flirting games, send rushes through my body. Just like shockwaves. Now we’ve acted on it and I’m not sure how to resist my current urges. “Sure,” and he slides his hand up a bit higher. I grunt, accidentally making it sound slightly like a moan. Oops. That’s embarrassing. “I- uh- we-,” There’s no getting out of this one. I have no choice but to stop myself from uttering another word. I cannot even find the words to sort into a fully functioning sentence. The tension in the air was thick. So thick you would struggle to cut it with any knife; it would simply be too blunt. There were seconds of silence that just dragged on too long. As the tips of his fingers on his right hand trace along my jaw, guiding my head to turn to face him, I find myself lusting for him. “Give in to me Y/N.” Some things are just too hard to resist. Especially when it’s purely sexual. It’s as if my silence screamed for him to continue. Maybe it was radiating through my body. Even if I did speak, I couldn’t hear myself. The only noise was the dangerously loud thumping of my heart as his fingers continued on the trail. My heat was throbbing. He isn’t even doing anything. At this point, probably doesn’t need to. Am I wrong if I just let him? It feels that if I give in, I’m not only betraying the other Pogues, but maybe even myself. This was the deal. Then again, a promise that I made years ago. I was younger then. I’ve changed since then. I don’t care about that shit anymore.

That’s it. I start leaning in. To feel my lips against his, and finally give in to him. Then...

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He grunts, rolling his eyes back into his head as his phone goes off. Facetime. My body leans back in a mix of defeat and relief. I rub my eyes and my face, and hear the sound of JJ answering. “What’s up?” I pretend to shuffle up to JJ, although our legs were still touching anyway. “You’re interrupting-” “The movie,” I rush, feeling the need to cut JJ’s sentence off. “So you don’t wanna come over?” Ki erupts from the background. With a piece of pizza in each of their hands, I realize I do. Being with them, and their cock-blocking asses sounds perfect. A glace comes from the boy next to me. His eyes screamed no. Every part of my body agreed with him. My brain, however, disagreed. “Sure.” His eyes widen. Another eye roll. “We’ll be there in 30.” And he hangs up.

“Why do we need 30 minutes?” I laugh, standing up and gently folding the blanket poorly. I turn down the tv before turning it off. Like a child, I notice JJ with a rather grumpy look on his face. “Come on, you’re not that upset are you?” I ask, trying to hold in my laughter. “I’m pretty pissed Y/N I’m not gonna lie,” he says with a half smile creeping. “We still have time... 30 minutes to be exact...” His hand reaches over to my arm. His soft fingertips slide from my elbow, down to my hand. With that comes a pull. I land perfectly on his lap. A leg either side of his. I try and contain my thoughts. I cannot control my hands as they sit on his face. It’s hard to keep my head straight when JJ’s hands run up and down my thighs. All I can think about is the thin clothing between our crotches. So little, yet way too much. I close my eyes for a second. Just to absorb the sensation. Then it’s time for reality. “Not now.” I whisper. A heavy breath leaves him. “Fine, but you owe me.” As much as I’d love to deny it, it’s promise I’m more than willing to keep. I pull my head away from his, presenting my pinky finger to him. A smile, isn’t cute to me at all, gleams; it radiates. So much so that its contagious. Our pinky’s lock. “Yeah?” The blend of his smile and tone screams extreme excitement. “Cross my heart Maybank.”

John B’s house was now clean. I don’t think I’ve seen for the floor for months. Although I don’t blame him for the way he’s lived for the past few months, It was beginning to get a bit much. He very persistent. I know he’s still waiting for his father to come home. That being said, Kiara clearly was the one who cleaned. “Wow, the shitty smell has faded,” I hit JJ as those words fall from his mouth. That boy has zero filter. “It looks great, I’d love to know how much you helped though Johnny,” I assure him with a smirk, nudging John B on the shoulder. 

“So, what are we doing?” I ask. As soon as the words left my mouth, I realised that I probably didn’t want to know. John B says nothing, just simply forced a smile. Jesus Christ. Instead I look at Kiara. “He said Sarah’s information gave a lead. He wants us to follow it.” I look down at my outfit. I still have my fucking nightwear on. I should’ve known. I’m the stupid one here. Damn. I actually thought we would maybe just sleep for once. 

With John B in the drivers seat and Kiara in the passenger, it left Pope, JJ and I in the back. I found myself staring at the stars flying past as we drove. The Outer Banks is a totally different place at night. It’s beautiful. It’s also scarier and creepier, but we cross those bridges when we get to them. “Hey,” JJ nudges me gently with a whisper. “You alright?” I nod slowly. I wouldn’t say this to John B, but honestly it’s worrying. This whole thing has become an obsession. I know it’s his dad, and I know he misses him like crazy, but is there really a chance he’s alive? And why has this whole thing been so mysterious and chaotic? “What’s up with you two?” It’s only when I hear Pope’s voice that I remember that we’re back as a group right now. “Are you feeling left out?” Is JJ’s response. I try and keep my smile contained. He just has this tone, and facial expression, where you can’t take him seriously. “I didn’t know you felt that wa-” 

“What the fuck John B?” Kiara snaps in an angry mumble. Before the van even stops Ki opens the door and hops out. We haven’t been driving for long, so we can’t be far. Kiara, with an extremely miserable face, hops into the back with the rest of us. I go to ask, but I see Sarah Cameron climb into the front passenger seat. What is this boy playing at? “Oh shit,” I whisper in JJ’s direction. A slight chuckle comes out, purely amazed at the balls on this boy. “Hi guy’s!” Sarah smiles enthusiastically. I feel somewhat obligated to respond. As I’ve mentioned previously, I’ve never had a massive problem with her. “Hey Sarah.” I feel bad for both sides. John B shouldn’t put Kiara into these situations as he knows she doesn’t like her. Then again, I think Ki needs to not be so rude sometimes. Right now, that’s not going to happen. Might as well just enjoy the awkward car journey. 

Sarah and John B giggle away in the front as if they have been life long friends. The rest of us, not including Kiara, sent awkward eyes each other’s ways. Ki sulked silently. So I go back to staring outside. It’s hard not to imagine what it would be like to be free. The Outer Banks area is all I know. My family may ‘have money’, but our trips have always been within an hour’s drive. There’s a world beyond this. There is so much more to see and explore. Maybe that’s why we’re all so hung up on these mini impossible adventures. We’re craving something more.

John B’s plan, he said, was simple. A clue has led us to an area of green. “There has to be something here. We’re close. I can feel it,” his words sound hopeful, despite the wobbly tone to his voice. “Can’t we do this in the morning? We’re not going to find anything in the pitch black,” Pope was right. But John’s desperate. I would be too. “We’ll just have a quick look around,” he promises. He wanders to the back of the van, and takes out some torches. “I think we should split up into three pairs,” when Sarah speaks, I can automatically feel the rage coming off of Kiara. With an excessive eye roll, she might as well have just said something. Everyone else must’ve seen it, but it get’s ignored. Probably best not to fight in the darkness, in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by trees. I send a quick smile Sarah’s way. “Okay. So... I’ll go with Sarah. You and JJ, and Kiara and Pope.” 

“Don’t look so smug,” I warn the smirking JJ as we separate from the others in our direction. It’s pretty typical for us to be paired, but we also do make the best team. With a torch, I look around as if I know what I’m looking for. “This is going to be impossible,” I grunt already in defeat. I really want to help John B, but I don’t even think he’s helping himself at this point. How long is this going to go on for? “Do you think he’s alive?” JJ asks in a whisper. It’s a question, I think, we’ve all been too afraid to ask. John’s answer is simple. We wouldn’t be searching for clues in the middle of the night if he didn’t. I hesitate. As I shake my head, my heart breaks a little. I wish I did. It would make things a little easier. “Me neither.”

Although being surrounded by trees at night is usually the scene of a horror movie, it’s rather beautiful. Scary, but beautiful. Around 15 minutes has passed since we split from the others and no one has found anything; I assume anyway. There is zero service on our phones, so really we have no idea, but my gut is telling me that there’s nothing to find. “I spy with my little eye, something beginning with G,” I smile. For about 5 minutes, we’ve been playing I-Spy. Perhaps at the hope of us ‘spying’ something we usually wouldn’t spot. Unfortunately, that has not been the case. I’ve been the one annoyingly asking, and he’s just been playing along to humor me. “I swear to god Y/N if it’s grass...” He warns. Like I said, we’ve seen nothing but the wilderness. “My turn.” 

As someone who pretty much refused to play, I was interested to see what better he could do. There’s nothing to see. “I spy something beginning Y.” Okay. I immediately start looking around, into the darkness. This is only I-Spy, but I need to win. JJ is one cocky mother fucker. I turn to him and frown. “Y? You know you have to actually be able to see this thing right?” I finish my sentence. Two hands go to my waist, guiding me backwards. “It was “You up against a tree, naked.” And I was. Well, I was pressed against the tree. My heartbeat went from a normal pace, to almost having a sudden heart attack in seconds. I open my mouth to speak, but no words seem to come. What is wrong with me? “I make you speechless,” he leans down to my ear and whispers. I still say nothing. As I finally feel words ready to be released, I get interrupted. And no, not by JJ. 

We walk back to the van in silence. Trying to hold everything in, I restrain my need to smile and let out a giggle. I’m thankful to see the others. “How did the searching go?” John B asks as we finally become a group again. “We didn’t find anything,” A big part of me wished we would’ve found something. Not that me and JJ were properly looking, but it would’ve been nice to come back with some hope. “I’m sorry guys. We should’ve waited until the morning to look around,” Unsure if anyone else saw what I did, I glance around. Sarah - only for a second - nudged her hand against him. I can’t help but find it cute. 

Once we dropped Sarah and Pope home, we all went back to John B’s as planned. “You two can take the bed,” he, the gentleman he is, gestures towards the bedroom. John B’s dad’s room is locked. “I don’t mind sleeping-” “Just take the bed,” his voice, which was quite assertive, was joined by a smile. Without even thinking, I wrap my arms around John. “We will find something,” I assure him. He need to believe it, whether I do or not. I kiss him on the cheek. “I love you John.” In true JJ fashion, he joins in on the hug. “Wow I love you guy’s too.” “Hey! I wanna join,” I chuckle as Kiara swerves herself into the huddle. “Okay, that’s enough!”

So I lay there; just staring at the ceiling. Kiara is already asleep. I’m jealous. I’ve tried. It’s hard to sleep with all these thoughts going through my head. There’s too much going on. 

‘Are you awake?’ I text JJ. Within seconds I get a reply.

‘Do you need some company ;)’ I roll my eyes, more at the fact that he knows I do. 

‘You gotta get your mind out the gutter ;)’

My stomach turns at the response. I read it over and over, just to get it to stick. The picture those words paint in my head should be illegal. Words like that should be a crime. I’ll just read it once more.

‘I’d rather have my head between your legs’.

How does he expect me to sleep after that? I try and keep my eyes closed, but the only way they do is if I squeeze them shut. I hear quiet footsteps. When I let my eyes go, I see JJ tip-toeing into the bedroom.  My body sits itself up. “What are you doing?” I ask with haste. His face becomes clearer as he gets closer. “Didn’t you get my text?” He smirks, making my stomach flip just like a gymnast on a trampoline. I refuse stay speechless like earlier. He does not have this affect on me or my body. “Yeah but-” “It’ll help you sleep,” He shrugs, lifting the blanket slightly. “JJ.” I whisper, stopping as soon as an index finger starts trailing up my leg. I want to resist. I’m sure I can. It would be so much easier if I actually wanted to. He gets closer to the top of my thigh. I start asking myself, what if I just let it happen? Just one more time? It can’t hurt. “Y/N.” I was so caught up in my thoughts, I didn’t notice how close JJ’s head was to mine. When our eyes locked, I knew; I knew there was only one way this was going to go. 

I pull his lips down onto mine. I hate admit it, but the main thing that came to mind was ‘finally’. JJ doesn’t hesitate to start lining kisses from my lips down to my neck. Forgetting where I am, more importantly forgetting the fact that Kiara was inches away, I let out a slight moan. I immediately cover my lips. He lets out a deep but quiet laugh. “Shit,” I feel my cheeks begin to redden, and I’m instantly thankful for it being dark. “I have that affect on people,” shaking my head, I push him gently. “Yeah yeah.”

I hardly realized at first, but I was pushing his head lower. If I’m being honest, I was getting desperate now. I need him. Now. The tips of his fingers hook around the outsides of my shorts, smoothly down my thighs in the process. He didn’t hesitate removing my underwear quickly after, placing it next to the bed on the floor. 

A soft kiss gets placed on the inside of my thigh. I was already wet. Possibly the worst thing would be for him to know that he now has this hold over my body. A temporary hold. It won’t last. Another kiss, closer to my heat now. I wished to shout at him. He’s a teasing asshole. One more, the last one, gently exactly where I desired him. “Fuck,” he whispers, so attractively. His hand grips both of my thighs, pulling me closer to him. He attaches his lips to my throbbing heat. A deep breath exits my mouth. My hand goes straight to his hair, scrunching my fingers and pulling. Every fiber of my being wanted to moan. The pleasure shooting through my body was immense. As his tongue swirls with skill, he sends my body into a growing frenzy. Perhaps it’s the build up. Whatever it is, it feels amazing. His tongue starts concentrating mainly on my clit. Between every suck, every nibble, my stomach started building a tight knot already. My thighs clamp around his head, which he opens back up without interrupting his work. If I’d have known how good he was at this, maybe I would’ve given in a little sooner. “Oh my,” I whisper as quietly as I can. My breaths were loud enough. His arms hook a tighter hold on my thighs to keep my in place, as my body moving uncontrollably. I was so close. I knew he could feel it too. The knot begins to tighten, excitement growing more and more. And I let go, bringing a release that - although was only growing for a day - was much needed. I press my mouth against my arm to contain the majority of my moan. He gracefully lets me ride out my high, until I’m even more of a heavy-breathing mess beneath him. 

He unhooks himself. I can’t help but smile massively at him as his face comes into view. “Don’t,” I stop his words with a whisper. His eyebrows raise. I do wish he wouldn’t always have that fuckboy smile on his face. “Go back to the couch,” I nudge him on the shoulder. As quietly as he can, he gets up off the bed. He comes close to my ear once more. “Bet you can sleep now.” 

And I did.

Tag list:

@nevinna

If you are interested, here’s the link to Part Three :)

[eminems-skittles]

broken mugs and broken hearts [spencer reid x reader]

spencer reid x fem!reader warnings: angst, breakup word count: 1.7k ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

the smell of night lingered in the room as a chilled wind rustled the blinds of the open window. crickets chirped in the distance and the hum of car engines from the busy street met her ears. she sighed as she settled into the warm blankets on their shared bed. well, now it was her bed. she let her eyes wander around the room, memories of them, of him flooding her mind. her eyes drifted to the corner of the room, the memory of when they slow danced in candlelight playing in her mind. tears gathered in her eyes. she looked away, focusing on the side of the bed that he slept on. it was still made, untouched since the morning he left. the only thing out of place was his pillow, which she swapped for her own. it smelled like him. the scent of old books and coffee lingered on the pillow even after two weeks. she thought back to the weeks leading up to their demise, silently scolding herself for not realizing sooner. a tear slid down her cheek. she thought about the morning they broke up. the morning he effortlessly shattered her heart into a million tiny pieces, leaving her to clean up the shards of their love by herself.

y/n walked into the sun bathed kitchen humming the song that had been stuck in her head for the past three days. she wasn't sure where she had heard it but she couldn't seem to get the catchy tune out of her head. she floated through the kitchen, the rhythmic click of her heels paired with her humming alerted spencer of her presence. he held his breath as she pressed a kiss to his cheek, mumbling 'good morning, darling.' he stiffly nodded his head, his eyes remaining on the newspaper in his hands. y/n pulled away, confused by his lack of response.

"everything alright, darling?" she asked as she slowly moved to the counter to pour herself a cup of coffee. once again she was met with silence. "darl-"

"i can't do this any more," spencer interrupted, his voice harsh and low.

"you can't do what anymore?" she asked cautiously.

"this. i can't be in this relationship anymore. i can't," he forced out.

"did i do something? we can fix this. please," y/n begged. tears began to slide down her cheeks, her makeup following the wet trails.

"we can't fix this."

"yes we ca-"

"no, y/n." she was taken aback by the force in his voice. "we can't fix this because i don't want to fix it. i don't love you anymore."

and with that final blow to her heart, he grabbed his jacket and walked out the front door. she held onto the counter, gripping it as if her life depended on it. in a strange way, maybe her life did depend on it. if she let go, she would surely collapse and who knows if she'd be able to pull herself up. she couldn't even comprehend what had just happened. in a matter of minutes, her life had been flipped upside down. she stared at the table as hot tears furiously fell from her eyes. his cereal was barely touched, the milk still sitting on the counter. his coffee cup was next to the bowl, mocking her as she wept. of course he had chosen to use the mug she got him for a secret santa that penelope had arranged several years ago. y/n strode over to the table and delicately lifted the mug up to her eyes. she examined it for a second before turning towards the empty wall. she laughed to herself, remembering how her and spencer always said they were going to hang up their pictures but never got around to doing it. her bitter laughter turned into painful sobs as she thought more about it. without even thinking, she threw the mug at the blank wall. she barely flinched when it crashed into a million small pieces. she had done to the mug what spencer did to her heart, and she couldn't bring herself to clean up the pieces of broken glass. not when she had to clean up the pieces of a broken heart and broken relationship. she trudged over to her phone and called her best friend.

"y/n? where are you? you were supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago," emily's voice, full of concern, flood through the speakers.

"can you...can you tell hotch i won't be in today?" y/n sniffled.

"are you alright? oh hey, reid. what's up with y/n?" she heard emily ask.

"don't ask him," y/n breathed out. "we...we broke up this morning."

"oh sweetie," emily sighed. "i'll come over tonight okay?"

y/n sighed as she recalled the night that followed their split. she spent several hours crying into emily's shoulder. emily didn't ask about the broken glass on the floor, and y/n didn't explain.

in the two weeks since they broke up, y/n didn't go to work. instead, she laid in bed all day with the blinds drawn shut and blankets piled over her. she cried until she felt her lungs burn and her head ache, longing for spencer to be there holding her. she barely checked her phone, letting all of her phone calls go to voicemail. she had completely cut herself off from the world outside of her bedroom.

more tears fell as she recalled the past two weeks. she brought the back of her hand up to her teary eyes, brushing away as many tears as she could.

a sharp knock on her front door brought her mind back to the room. her eyes lazily dragged from spencer's pillow to the clock on the night stand. 11:34. she hesitantly got out of bed, pulling spencer's old sweater tighter around her body. she slowly padded down the hallway the person knocked again. she froze when she heard the jangling of keys and a lock unlocking. when the door swung open, she gasped in shock.

"what are you doing here?" she asked him. the only thing separating them was the kitchen table. well, that and the broken mug that she had yet to sweep up.

"i was worried about you. emily and penelope said you haven't been returning their calls," spencer explained as he stood awkwardly by the door. his eyes trailed from her to the broken mug strewn across the floor. "what happened?"

"what happened? what happened?" y/n asked, bitter humor in her voice. "what happened, spencer, is you did to me what i did to that mug. you took my heart and you smashed it into millions of tiny pieces and you didn't even bother to clean up the mess."

"y/n-"

"no, spencer. now is my chance to speak. you said everything you needed to say two weeks ago. do you know how painful it's been? how hard it is to try to fall asleep knowing that the love of your life doesn't love you anymore? or knowing that the love of your life just left you there to break into a million tiny pieces without caring about the aftermath? because i do. it's hell, spencer. it's actual hell. i've never felt so much pain in my entire life. what did i do wrong? was i not enough for you? did you find someone new who was prettier or-" spencer cut her off by pressing his lips to hers. y/n pushed his chest lightly. "don't do that spencer. you don't get to do that anymore. you don't love me, remember?"

"y/n, i made a mistake," spencer sighed. "i thought that if i cut things off with you, that if i ended things, i'd be able to keep you safe."

"spencer, we have the same job. we are constantly in danger. don't lie to me," y/n said, walking over to the couch. spencer followed her but sat on the coffee table in front of her.

"i'm not lying, y/n. i just- i wanted to protect you from cat. if you're with me, you're a target to her. i didn't want you to be hurt, or..." he trailed off.

"or killed," y/n finish. spencer nodded. he hesitantly picked up her hand, breathing a sigh of relief when she interlocked their fingers. "spencer..."

"i didn't mean it. i still love you. i love you more than i can accurately describe. i honestly don't know why i did it. i really thought that i was helping keep you safe but instead i hurt you more than cat ever could," spencer said, his eyes never leaving hers. "please, take me back, y/n."

"spencer, you really hurt me and that's not okay. i understand why you did it but it still hurt," y/n mumbled.

"i know, y/n. i know i fucked up but please give me one chance and i'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

y/n was silent for a second and the sounds of crickets and cars filled the room. she squeezed his hand lightly and smiled at him. "one more chance. but let me make this clear, if you ever pull that shit again, then we're done. for real."

"i completely understand. words cannot express how truly sorry i am, y/n. i was an asshole and i shouldn't have said the things i said. i love you," spencer whispered the last three words.

"i love you too, spencer. now come on, you owe me two weeks worth of hugs, cuddles and kisses," y/n said. spencer smiled at her before leaning forward and pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. when they broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling. "oh, um, sorry about your mug."

"don't worry about it," he whispered. he helped her off the couch and led her to their room.

the two of them slid into their respective sides before meeting in the middle, as if a magnet was pulling them together. spencer pulled y/n into his side, peppering several kisses across her forehead and cheeks.

"i missed this," he mumbled into her hair. "again, my love, i am so incredibly sorry."

"i know you are, spence. i know," y/n whispered back, kissing underneath his jaw.

silence fell over the two of them as the cold wind rustled the blinds, as crickets chirped and cars sped down the busy street a few blocks away. but all they focused on was the other's breathing. the sound of each and every inhale and exhale. the sound that told them they were home.

[hashtagdex]

ok ok angst 18 and/or fluff 11 for nurseydex?

thank you so much for these! have Both prompts!

“Leave! Me! Alone!” and “I think I’m in love with you”

-

Usually, Nursey prides him on being a chill guy, but right now he feels like he's going to lose his mind.

He skips the tenth song in the past minute, Tango's knee bumping into his under the table for the third time. It's not like it matters, though. He can hear Tango, Whiskey and Chowder's conversation about last night’s Falcs game against the Devils clear as day even through the music. 

His head is throbbing from squinting down at his notes to try and decipher them, his hand is starting to cramp up as he finishes another page, and he can’t get any damn peace.

With a sigh, he puts his pen down, takes his glasses off, and squeezes the bridge of his nose. Studying in the Haus kitchen really wasn’t his brightest idea, but people would’ve come up to him at the library to talk to him and he wouldn’t get shit done upstairs either.

All he wants is to make it up to his room, crawl under his blanket, and not come out again for the rest of the week. But he can't do that, because he has more than twice as many notes left to copy as he's already gone through.

"Woah, Nursey," Tango starts as he wrestles open a protein bar, and the noise of the struggling wrapper grates even more on Nursey's nerves, "you okay? You look really unchill right now."

Tango's knee bumps against his again. Nursey's head snaps up to look at him, scowling as he forces out, "No, Tony, I'm not fucking okay. I have about a million more pages to do, all of my music fucking sucks, and I can still hear you guys through it! And then you just keep fucking knocking into me!"

Chowder reaches out to touch his forearm. "Nursey—"

"Please just leave me alone!" 

The moment the words are out of his mouth, Tango’s expression crumbles and Nursey’s heart sinks. Chowder draws his arm back with a sigh. He knows he has no right to snap at Tango, but now the words are out there and his frustration is still running sky fucking high.

Chowder sends him a hard look as he herds the Tadpoles out of the kitchen. He’ll apologize to Tango later, once he’s calmed down, but right now he's stressed and annoyed and there’s still a never ending pile of work left for him.

He swallows the guilt that rises up, slips his glasses back on, and returns to the next page of notes.

He gets about half a page in before he feels strong hands touch and then squeeze his shoulders in a way that's grounding instead of grating.

Dex. It has to be. No one else really knows how to help him when he's overwhelmed like this.

Nursey pulls out one of his earbuds and turns to face Dex. "I really have to get this done, man."

Dex takes his hands off Nursey’s shoulders—Nursey kind of, embarrassingly, misses the pressure—and fixes him with an unimpressed look. “How long have you been studying?”

Nursey’s eyes flick over to the clock on the wall and, wow, alright. “Uh, five hours, give or take?”

When he started, the sun was still up and the kitchen was deserted. Sometime around hour two or three, Chowder, Whiskey, and Tango showed and asked if it’s fine for them to join him. He grunted out a sure, deep in the notes he took in class earlier. Now it’s dark out.

Dex shifts his weight. “And how much of it are you actually absorbing?”

“Not much,” Nursey admits, crossing his legs under the table. 

“Okay,” Dex says with a nod, “time for a break then, c’mon.”

“No, Dex,” Nursey protests, “I need to get this done.”

“Nursey, you’re stressed out,” Dex reasons, and yeah, no shit. “If you keep going now, it won’t do you any good. If anything, it’ll make you even more miserable.”

Nursey huffs. “When did you start making sense?”

Dex just sends him a small, soft smile that Nursey only ever sees when they’re alone. “I know your next exam isn’t until next week. You have time, I swear. You can finish tomorrow. Or later, at least. Self care, y’know?”

Nursey tries to say no, he really does, but in the end, he’s weak when it comes to Dex. Yeah, he’s surprised too. “Fine,” he finally relents. Dex’s smile grows and Nursey has to look away.

With a defeated sigh, he collects his stray pieces of paper, puts his pens back into his case, and lets Dex pull him out of the chair, up the stairs, and all the way into his room.

Inside, Nursey drops his stuff on his desk, then pulls his phone out of his pocket.

“Do you want me to go? I can get you something for your headache or maybe a snack. I bet you haven’t eaten the whole time,” Dex asks, lingering by the door.

To his surprise, Dex has become one of the most calming presences in Nursey’s life. Dex and calming should be an oxymoron in and of itself, but here he is, craving Dex’s company. “Actually, could you stay?”

Dex’s smile returns. “Sure,” he agrees and steps back into the room as Nursey turns his attention back to his phone.

Nursey starts typing a text to Tango and out of his periphery, he notices Dex pulling something down from Nursey's bunk and settling down into his old bed.

"C’mere.”

Once he’s sent the I'm sorry for earlier, it wasn't chill of me to lash out at you like that, I’m just mad stressed right now to Tango, Nursey looks up. He finds Dex sitting against the board with a pillow behind his back, his legs spread apart, and Nursey’s comforter at the foot of the bed. "What?" Nursey asks as Dex pats the spot between his legs.

“I’m gonna help you relax, c’mon,” Dex says and pats the mattress again.

Nursey quirks up an eyebrow, but he drops his phone and glasses on his desk and makes his way over to the bed anyway. “Don’t massage my face, you’ll just clog my pores,” he warns.

Dex laughs and Nursey feels more tension drain from his shoulders. “I won’t, I promise.”

Once Nursey’s settled in, both of their legs under his comforter, Dex pulls him against his chest. “Is this okay?”

Nursey nods and leans more of his weight against Dex, pillowing his head near Dex's shoulder.

"Good," Dex says and Nursey swears he can hear the smile in his voice.

Dex takes Nursey's right hand into both of his and starts massaging it, applying just the right amount of pressure to ease the pain. Nursey allows himself to sigh and Dex begins to talk.

He launches into a story about his first time on his uncle's lobster boat, five years old and just barely taller than the traps. His voice is softer than it usually is, quiet and soothing close to Nursey's ear, as he tells Nursey about the gentle rocking of the waves. Listening to his steady heartbeat, it keeps getting harder and harder for Nursey to keep his eyes open.

Nursey lets him get halfway through the story, until Dex switches to his other hand, before he interrupts him.

"Dex?"

Dex pauses in the middle of his sentence and hums, but his hands don’t stop moving.

It gives Nursey the courage to go on. “Why are you always doing this? Helping me when I’m overwhelmed? How do you always know what to do?”

“I guess,” Dex starts quietly, it sounds like he’s hesitating, arranging his words carefully, “I guess I’ve been paying attention.”

The thing is, Nursey’s been paying attention too. He’s been paying attention to Dex frowning when he’s working at a particularly vexing project, to Dex’s hands kneading his stress into pie dough, to Dex looking so proud of the team after games and practices, to Dex’s loud laughter when Nursey or Chowder crack a joke, to Dex’s blush spreading across his whole face when Nursey winks at him.

Nursey thought he was the only one paying attention, though.

“Why?” he presses.

Dex’s hands still.

When Dex stays quiet, Nursey prods gently, “Dex.”

“I think I’m in love with you,” Dex whispers then.

“You think—”

“No, fuck that,” Dex interrupts, voice louder and more powerful, “I know I’m in love with you.”

Dex doesn’t move to leave and Nursey is grateful for it. His heart is beating in his throat, the words of I’m in love with you too on the tip of his tongue, but they’ll have to talk about this. Like, have an actual adult conversation about their feelings and what they want it to mean for the future.

Nursey also knows he’s way too tired to have it the way they really need to, so he just tangles their fingers together and makes sure Dex feels his smile as he presses a kiss to the back of his hand. After he pulls back, he squeezes it, and Dex squeezes right back.

“Tomorrow,” Nursey promises.

“Okay,” Dex agrees easily, running his thumb along Nursey’s.

“Do you have any more dumb stories?”

Dex digs out a story about a prank he pulled on his older brother when he was ten for Nursey as Nursey drifts off to sleep.

[alittlextrathatway]

Matt and Sylvie & Number 9 for the fluff prompt please! 💕

“You took all the pillows so I’m using you as one.”

******

Severide had asked them to take a quick trip to the cabin to get it ready for him.

It was awkward being alone with Sylvie given their current situation. She’d just stopped seeing the Lieutenant from 40 and the assumption around both houses was that it ended because of Matt. She hadn’t said a word to him about it, not that he expected her too, so he had no idea what actually happened.

Regardless, his best friend was planning to propose to Sylvie’s best friend in this cabin in just a few hours.

Matt had a feeling that plan was wrecked — judging by the snow piling up outside.

“The roads in and out of here are closed,” Sylvie announces, dropping her phone on the coffee table. “Poor Severide. This was supposed to be such a big night for him and Stella! Have you talked to him yet?”

Matt nods, sitting down on the couch with a sigh. It was a good thing he’d already started a fire. They were going to need it. “He said not to worry about it. He’ll improvise. So, it’s gonna be a big night no matter what. Just not here.”

“Oh! But what about the strawberries! I mean the champagne will keep but the chocolate covered strawberries won’t,” Sylvie says, frowning at the pretty spread she’d set up on the coffee table.

Matt shrugs and then grins at her. “More for us?”

“God, that’s tempting. We can’t though!”

“Why not?”

“They’re for Stella!”

“You said yourself they won’t last. Kidd won’t get to eat them no matter what. Someone should enjoy them,” Matt reasons, glancing pointedly between her and the platter.

Sylvie bites her bottom lip before reluctantly reaching for the smallest strawberry. “Well, maybe just one.”

She really is too cute. How did he not see her sooner? What had been different about them the last few years? Had she changed or had he? Maybe it was both of them. Maybe, unlike his past relationships, he and Sylvie were growing together not apart.

“Guess we’re bunking here for the night,” Matt says while glancing at the unexpected blizzard through the window. “You can take the bed. I’ll take the couch.”

She nods. “Okay.” Awkward silence descends and Matt hates it. Their silences had never been awkward before. Sylvie looks guiltily at the tray and then grabs it as she stands from the couch. “I should put these in the fridge. If we can keep them cold Stella might still be able to enjoy them.”

As soon as she takes a step toward the kitchen, the lights flicker and then cut out. Only the glow of the fire illuminates the room, surrounding them in hues of orange and yellow.

“Wind probably knocked a tree into some power lines somewhere,” Matt observes. “Looks like we’re gonna have to eat those strawberries after all. No power, no fridge.”

“And also no heat,” Sylvie reminds him as she comes back with the tray.

“Good point. Guess we’re both sleeping on the couch. We’ll need the fire for warmth,” Matt tells her with an apologetic glance.

At that realization, the tension is palpable. He can feel her apprehension as if it were his own. Guilt overwhelms him. It’s his fault that their relationship, whatever it is, has become so uncomfortable. His dumbass answer fanned the flames of fear and doubt in her and unless he straightens it out nothing will ever be the same again.

“Or I’m sure there’s a sleeping bag around here somewhere,” he says lamely. “I can sleep on the floor.”

Sylvie shoves almost an entire strawberry in her mouth and nods silently as she chews. The sight of her chewing ferociously and avidly avoiding his eyes would be comical if it didn’t sting so much.

“We have plenty of time to kill until then,” Matt observes. “What should we do?”

She continues to chew but shrugs and points at him, indicating he should decide. He nearly grins. Her determination to avoid conversation just gave him the perfect opening.

“Up to me, huh?”

She nods.

“Then I think we should talk. About you and me.”

She gulps down the rest of the strawberry in one swallow, nearly choking in the process. “What?” She asks through a startled cough.

“I miss you and I hate how distant we are.”

“Matt—“

“No, hear me out. I know I agreed to give you space but that was a mistake. I should have said what I really wanted to say but as always I can’t think straight around you. You—you fog things up and the words get lost in all my feelings and I end up sounding like a jackass.” He pauses and takes a deep breath, meeting her eyes. “I don’t want Gabby. She could walk through the door right now and beg me to leave with her and I wouldn’t do it. She and I had our chance. We don’t work. Honestly, despite our good moments, we never really did. And I don’t want a relationship that has a few good moments. I want a relationship that has a few bad moments. Maybe one that even allows me to be happy in the middle of the challenges. That’s not what Gabby and I had.”

“It isn’t?”

He shakes his head and takes her hands in his, sliding closer to her on the couch. “No, but it is what you and I have. Even as friends, that’s how our relationship works. I want to be so much more than your friend, Sylvie, but I know we’ll never lose that. It’s our foundation. I want this,” he tells her as he releases one of her hands to point between them. “I want what I have with you for as long as you’ll let me have it.”

His words echo through the tiny cabin as they grow quiet again. Sylvie stares at him with wide nervous eyes, unblinking. She seems frozen with indecision.

Until she isn’t.

Until she stands straight up, nearly knocking him over since they were almost sitting on top each other, and walks toward the hallway.

“Pillows!” She shouts, frantically. “We need pillows. And blankets! I’ll go find them!”

He watches her go with a bewildered expression. He did speak, right? Outloud? He rises from the couch and follows her down the hall. “The extra blankets are in the closet in the bedroom,” he calls out to her back as she speed-walks down the short hallway.

“Right! Got it,” she says, never once looking back at him. “Oh look! And there’s a sleeping bag too! Perfect!”

He enters the bedroom and stops next to her, eyes narrowed on her panicked expression. What is going on here? She shoves the sleeping bag and a couple of pillows into his arms.

“You did hear me, right?” He asks while watching her grab as many blankets and pillows as she can manage.

“This should be plenty, right?” She’s trying to appear absent-minded but that same panic is in her eyes so he knows she heard him.

He sighs and nods. “Yes, this should be plenty.”

He follows her back out to the living room where she sets all the pillows and blankets in an armchair and begins to make up the couch. She throws the two spare throw pillows on the floor and then starts tucking a sheet around the cushions.

He watches, frustration building in his chest, as she follows that with a thick quilt and then begins meticulously fluffing and arranging the pillows. Finally, he gives up waiting for a response and unrolls the sleeping bag across the floor in front of the fire. He turns to grab a pillow from the armchair only to find all of them gone.

“Do you plan on sharing any pillows?” He asks Sylvie with a quirked brow.

She looks dazed as she blinks over at him. “I’m sorry. What?”

“The pillows,” he repeats as he motions to the couch that’s almost too full of pillows to sit on.

“Oh!” She says, hands flying to her blushing cheeks. “I wasn’t even paying attention.”

“What is going on?” Matt asks loudly, frustration bubbling to the surface. “Did I say something wrong?”

“What? No! You—god, you said all the right things.”

“Then why are you still avoiding me?”

“I’m trying not to say or do anything stupid,” she admits in a barely audible voice.

“Nothing you say or do could be stupid,” Matt assures her.

“Oh no? Jumping you last time we kissed felt pretty stupid after it was all said and done and we both know, based on that first time, that I’m in way deeper than you. So, I don’t want to say anything that might scare yo—“

He cuts her off by suddenly dipping his head and capturing her lips with his. She tenses for a moment and then melts against him. They stand in front of the fire sharing searing kisses for what feels like an eternity and a fleeting moment all at once. It’s excruciatingly slow and yet it ends much too soon. It doesn’t make sense.

“There,” Matt says as they pull apart. “Now we’re even.”

She blinks at him, looking adorably confused. “What?”

“You’ve jumped me and I’ve jumped you,” he replies, catching his breath. “We’re even.”

“Oh god, I love you.” She gasps and slaps a hand over her mouth. A goofy grin appears on his face as he pulls her hands away. She winces and then continues rambling. “I didn’t mean to tell you that. Not...not yet anyway. Oh shit. Can we pretend that didn’t happen?”

“No,” he replies in a firm tone. Though the smile on his face contradicts his tone. “I don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen.”

“Why not?” She asks, her bottom lip poking out in a very slight pout.

“Because I love you too and I want you to know it,” Matt confesses, rubbing his hands up and down her arms soothingly and trying not to look amused by her pouting lip. “I don’t want to pretend I feel less for you than I actually do ever again.”

She gasps at his words before framing his face with her hands and yanking his lips down to hers. She tastes like strawberries and dark chocolate. He guides her down to the couch, crushing the pillows she’d placed on one end. It actually works out well for them. It props her up at a more comfortable angle for him to settle himself on top of her.

With everything finally out in the open, the layers of clothing between them don’t last long and by the time the sun is setting in the sky they’re panting, sweaty, naked, and wrapped in three layers of blankets.

The power still hasn’t come back on and the air has chilled considerably. He kisses a trail down her jaw to her neck and then rests his head on her chest with his arms wound around her waist.

Every single pillow is still propped underneath her.

“You’re better than an electric blanket,” Sylvie tells him with a sleepy satisfied smile. “You’re so warm.”

He laughs and presses a light kiss to the middle of her sternum. “I guess it’s only fair that I’m your blanket. Considering, you took all the pillows so I’m using you as one.”

“I’m happy to be your pillow, Matt Casey.”

“And I will gladly be your blanket, Sylvie Brett. All you have to do is ask.”

[impala-dreamer]

Wash Me Away

SPN FanFIc

~Being lost in Purgatory with Dean takes a toll on Y/N, but a night of rest might do them both good.~

Dean x Reader, Benny, Mentions of Castiel

2,729 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Purgatory Smangst!. Danger. Romance. Rain.

A/N: This is for my Purgatory!Dean square on @spnkinkbingo​​ 2020 and for my darling @covered-byroses​​ who wanted something about the rain. Hope you all enjoy!

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It had been weeks, a month, maybe, since they woke up there. A month of running for their lives, every second on edge, wondering if they’d be fast enough to escape the next monster, strong enough to fend off the next attack. And there was always another attack.

They got a few hours here and there to rest, but they were on the move now, day and night.

Funny how Purgatory could sustain even a human for days without sleep or food. Perhaps the universe was coddling them, keeping them alive just enough so they could find the portal and escape. Or maybe they were just getting used to it, adapting to their new existence.

Dean was harder here, she noticed. He never laughed anymore, never teased her like he used to. She understood, of course. There was no reason to laugh anymore, not with a thousand fangs aimed at their throats.

Y/N tried to keep some hope, tried to show him a smile whenever he needed one, but the darkness was eating at her too. Hell would probably be nicer, she thought, but then again, she wouldn’t be with Dean.

Maybe he was what was keeping her going. Surely, she’d have given up that first night, succumbed to the monsters in and around her after Castiel abandoned them. But, Dean was there to grab her hand and pull, forcing her feet to run, demanding she keep her shit together. And she did. For him.

It helped that they had a mission. They weren’t just trying to get out, they were trying to find Cas. Some days, trudging behind Dean and Benny, Y/N had to bat away the idea that Cas was already dead. If it took three of them working together to get through the minefield that was Purgatory, how could one lone angel survive? She didn’t like to think like that, but it was hard some days.

Then there was Benny. Part of her was absolutely disgusted that Dean had agreed to let him tag along, to make such a deal with a monster. He was a vampire for fuck’s sake, but she understood, in the end. Dean couldn’t keep her safe and look for Cas at the same time. Still, sometimes she felt Benny’s eyes digging into her and it chilled her Hunter’s spirit to the bones.

There were times when they could go no further, when even Dean’s strong legs started to give out. They would sit beneath a tree or hide behind some strangely arranged pile of boulders. Shelter was sparse, so when they happened upon the cave that night, Y/N nearly cried.

Dean didn’t even protest when Benny insisted they both rest inside for the night while he went on ahead. The area around the cave was clear, and Benny promised to patrol the perimeter while they slept.

It was cold and quiet.

The mouth of the cave was about six feet wide and four feet tall, but it opened up into a room big enough to get comfortable in. Dean took the left side, stretching out his long legs as he sat against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. Y/N lay down opposite him, hands like a sorry pillow behind her head as she stared up at the rocky ceiling. There was a bit of pale yellow light coming in from outside, so it wasn’t too dark, and the cracks in the stone gave her something to count and focus on while Sleep ran away.

“This isn’t too bad,” she said, mostly to herself. “Ya know, if we don’t find Cas, we can just hole up here. Maybe excavate a little bit, add some bedrooms, a little kitchen in the back. Could be nice.”

“We’re going to find him,” Dean grumbled, his eyes still closed, lips barely moving. “I’m not living in a cave in this hell hole world.”

Y/N rolled onto her side, head braced by one hand. “Well, technically, this ain’t a hell hole. It’s a purg-hole. That’s a thing I just made up, but anyway.” She held her smile, biting her tongue between her front teeth, but Dean didn’t share her laugh. “Come on, dude,” she said, slapping his boot. “Smile.”

“No.”

“You’ll feel better if you do.”

Dean opened one eye and glared. “How?”

“Because I’ll feel better and that always makes you happy.”

She smiled sadly and he gave in, offering a meager smile that barely lifted his lips.

“See? Thank you.”

She left him alone then, rolling onto her stomach, cursing the world for not packing a sleeping bag before getting blown into another dimension. She should have had her go-bag with her. Would have made things a lot easier.

Thoughts swirled, the silence wrapped around her, and sleep finally came, closing her eyes before she even felt its approach.

She woke to rain.

A faint mist pushed in by a wayward breeze through the cave mouth kissed her eyelids and Y/N stirred, lifting her cheek from her hand and blinking into the dark. Raindrops danced a few feet away, collecting in shallow puddles where the rocks failed to meet in perfect seems.

Suddenly, it was all she ever wanted; the rain, the cool air, the heavy clouds. Her soul ached for it.

“Dean.”

She called to him gently but he was already awake, emerald eyes turned towards the same raindrops.

“Yeah, Y/N/N?” His voice was softer now, calmer after his rest.

“Come with me,” she whispered, lifting up onto her hands and knees.

Dean caught her left wrist as she tried to crawl out of the cave, shaking his head when she turned back, curious. “Don’t. You don’t know what’s out there.”

She sighed. “Benny’s walking the treeline. All that’s out there right now is rain. And I want to feel it on my face, Dean. It’s been too long.”

Her eyes misted over and something inside him gave in. His fingers released their hold on her wrist and he rolled to his knees, following her out.

They didn’t go too far; just a few yards away from the cave, but it felt like miles.

Y/N closed her eyes as she lifted her arms and turned her face to the sky. There was no Heaven up there, not anymore, not where they were, but for a moment, she felt it. Each drop of rain stung her face but she loved every one. It felt good, clean.

The water seeped into their clothes and soaked their hair, rinsing them clean of days of mud and muck. The dried blood on Dean’s cheek faded away and he lifted his hands, scrubbing them down his face with a sigh of relief.

“This feels amazing,” he said, finally cracking a real smile. He closed his eyes and let himself breathe; the first moment’s peace in a long while.

“Yeah.” Y/N’s voice broke, sadness creeping in. She dropped her head and the downpour massaged her neck with pounding pellets that trickled down under her collar. “It is.”

Dean heard her tone change and turned towards her, watching her shiver but not care to move. “What’s wrong?” His voice was tender as he came close; he was afraid for her, worried.

Y/N licked the water from her lips and looked up at him. Her eyes were as wet as anything else, but the reason wasn’t the same. “I don’t know.” She offered a lying smile but he wouldn’t have it.

“Tell me.”

His hand found her cheek.

She sighed deeply, shoulders dropping. “I just wanna stay here and let the rain wash me away.”

Dean pursed his lips, concerned dimples popping as he brushed the water from her cheek with his thumb. “Why?”

Y/N shook her head gently as she spoke. “It’s too much; I’m not gonna make it out here. You know that, Dean.” She took a breath as thunder rolled above them. “You should leave me in the cave. Go find Cas. Go get out of here.”

Dean’s chest burned at the thought; guilt stabbing his heart. “No.” He grabbed her face in both hands, holding her to him, forcing her to meet his eye. “I’m not leaving you, ever.”

Y/N tried to pull away but he refused, keeping her locked there, head in his hands, alone in the rain. He stared her down, hard, unblinking even as water crept into his eyes. His left eyelid trembled and she laughed.

“You’re an idiot,” she yelled, voice weak over the pouring rain.  

Dean smiled and bent his lips to hers. “Yeah, I am.”

They stood there in the downpour, not a single care for the first time in weeks. They kissed until the air between them was too thin, until their mouths filled with rain. Y/N tugged at the lapels of his leather coat and Dean’s hand slid up under her layers to lay on the small of her back. Any time she left for a deep breath, he pulled her closer, that big hand urging her to stay.

“We should go,” she managed after a long while, her breath heavy on his lips.

His eyes fell closed and his mouth reached for her. “No. Please.”

Y/N wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and moaned as he kissed his way across her jaw. “Take me back inside,” she whispered. “I need you.”

He let her go quickly, grabbing her hand as her boots sank into the mud. Together they climbed through the storm back up to the cave, desperate to settle down inside.

They stripped in a fury, no ceremony or tender hands. It was cold suddenly, and the dampness of their clothes was seeping in deep.

There was just enough room for him to stand and Dean used all of it, rushing to her and scooping Y/N into his arms once the sodden fabrics were kicked aside. They should have had a fire, but all they had was each other.

He kissed her harder, passion and desperation driving his tongue roughly between her lips. Y/N held on to his shoulders as he moved her where he wanted, absently walking her back until the stone shocked her skin.

“Fuck, that’s cold,” she laughed, turning her face from Dean’s kiss.

His hands slid around her, long fingers splayed out like a barrier over her back. “I’ll warm you up,” he growled, nipping at her pulse.

His kisses traveled downwards and Y/N ran her hands through his wet hair, sighing blissfully as his mouth closed around her nipple. “That’s pretty good…”

Dropping to his knees, Dean looked up with a smirk. “Oh wait,” he teased, sliding his right hand upwards to part her thighs. “There’s more.”

“I’m sure there is-” A gasp stole her words as Dean’s lips pressed against her pussy. She shuddered and sank down against the cavern wall, opening up for his tongue. He rolled it slowly across her clit, sending every bit of blood and thought straight down to it. She throbbed almost painfully as he fucked her open, fingers and lips working together to draw heavy moans from the back of her throat. She held on, fingers in his hair, hands tugging on his ears.

It had been too long since she had felt him, forever since she’d even had a thought to spare on pleasure, and her nerves were pulsing. Dean lifted her right leg to hook over his shoulder and the new angle gave his tongue more access than Y/N could stand. She shook almost violently as she came, her tight-lipped cry echoing down into the depths of their cave.

Dean pulled away, face shining with her slick juices, lips red and swollen. “Warm enough?” he asked, slowly drawing his tongue across his bottom lip, savoring her taste.

It took a moment for her brain to connect to her mouth, and Y/N took a deep breath as she dropped her leg from his shoulder. “Not quite.” She fell down to his level, knees crashing too hard into the rocky floor. “My turn.”

Her smile was delicious and Dean kissed her hard, humming into her as she ran her hands down his smooth chest.

“That’s nice,” he laughed, breath hitching as she tugged at his nipples. “Fuck.”

He was already hard between them and Y/N took advantage, wrapping one hand firmly around his cock while the other curled around the nape of his neck. She sucked at his lips while she stroked him, watching as the tension and worry melted from his face. Lines faded, his forehead relaxed, shoulders slumped as she worked him gently. When he wobbled, unsteady on his knees, she let him go, crawling over to the pile of damp clothes.

Dean watched in a daze as she lay down, opening her arms to him.

“Come ‘ere.”

He fell down against her, heavy body crushing her beautifully into the stone. He pushed between her legs; thick hips keeping her warm against the cool wind. “Fuck, I missed this.”

His whisper tickled her breast and Y/N cupped his jaw, urging him to look up. “Me too.” She traced his cheek with her fingertips, lightly skimming the slowly healing cut on his cheekbone.

“How?” she asked, suddenly melancholy once more.

Dean rolled against her, his cock pushing up across her slit. “How what?”  

Her body tensed as he nudged at her clit, forcing her eyes to close and her heart to race. “How- how are we even here right now?” She tried to focus on his weight, the heat of him pushing into her, but it was easier to let the pounding rain take her mind away. “Are we dead? Are our bodies back on Earth in pieces all over that lab? I don’t-”

Dean pulled away and locked his arms aside her head. “Do you really want to worry about that right now?”

Y/N let his voice pull her back and she stared into his eyes. He was just as worried, just as sad as she, but Dean was living in the moment. That was all he could handle.

“No,” she said finally, giving him a tiny smile as she cupped his face and pulled him down to her. She kissed away the worry and nibbled at his pain, afraid to let him go even as he pushed up on his knees to bury his thick cock deep inside of her.

They lay in the mouth of the cave, Y/N’s head resting on Dean’s arm like a pillow. He curled himself around her, knees behind hers, nose tucked in the crook of her neck.

The rain had eased to a drizzle and Y/N followed an errant droplet as it raced down the rocks. When it added itself to the puddle by her hand, she pulled it back and fit her hand inside Dean’s.

“You think he’s really out there still?” she asked on the end of a sigh.

“Yeah, I do.” Dean left a final kiss on her shoulder before rolling away. “I have to.”

“We could just leave now, you know.”

Dean pulled his arm away and sat up, reaching for his jeans.

“I love Cas, don’t get me wrong,” she explained, staring at the faint track the raindrop had left on the rocks. “I just...I’m not…”

“Hey.” Dean’s gruff tone pulled her out of the fog and she turned to him. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, you hear me?”

Y/N nodded but swallowed hard, fear heavy in her chest. “Yeah.”

“I mean it.” He grabbed her hand between both of his and squeezed. “I have two goals in my life right now. Find Cas and get us all home. I’m not giving up on either and neither are you.”

Emerald shone bright, even in the dark, and Y/N let herself believe him.

Dean dipped his chin to catch her gaze. “OK?”

Y/N smiled softly. “OK.”

He kissed her knuckles quickly and then let her go, pulling the wet denim up to his knees. “Good. Now, let’s get dressed before Benny gets back. I don’t need no bloodsucker peepin’ on my girl.” He winked and she rolled her eyes.

“You’re an idiot,” she laughed.

Dean licked his lips and shrugged. “I think we’ve already established that.”

2020 Forever Tags:

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[frostsinth]

Royal Flush - Pt. 1

The prologue to this story can be found HERE. I plan to redo/redesign the picture at some point. UPDATE: Redid the picture HERE

A new story (because fuck me, that’s why). This time between a Goblin King, and a young human Prince. Something new and fresh I hope you will all fancy. And hopefully a line up for another fic I have planned for the future.

As always, please visit my MasterList to see my other works, and feel free to BuyMeACoffee while you are there. If you have any prompts, ideas, thoughts, or insane ramblings, I love to hear from you. Please send me all the notes, tags, asks, or DMs your little hearts desire.

Enjoy!

“… Nikostratus, I… I know you are ...conflicted,” He started, and I felt my blood run hot again at his words, “But that is no reason-”

“My life is doomed to misery, regardless of what end,” I snapped at him, anger lacing every word, cutting him off, “… At least this way, Morgana will have a chance at finding happiness.”

He fell silent, his face a mask of horror, and I turned back to face the Goblin King. Stepping forward, I placed one arm over my chest, then bent at the waist. Bowing deeply to him.

“Your Majesty, I agree to your proposal.”

“I am humbled, and honored,” The Goblin King replied, and I could hear the smirk in his voice, even as I kept my eyes on the ground beneath me. “Come, we can discuss the details further in my private study… alone.”

I stiffened slightly at his request. But realized that the word he stressed was less suggestive and more… cold? As I slowly raised from my bow, I saw his scarlet eyes glaring harshly over my shoulder. I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck prickling, and tightened my jaw. Resisting the urge to look back at my guard. Knowing now exactly whom that tone had been for and not imagining I would enjoy the expression waiting behind me.

“As you wish, Your Majesty.”

The King gestured for me to follow him, leading the way across the floor to a door set into the side of the great chamber. With my will steeled, I followed after.  If Gareth attempted to follow as well, I did not know. Nor what would become of him, left alone upon my exit with the Goblin King. And with the anger at his words still hot in my blood at that moment, I didn’t care.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” I tried not to mumble as he held the door open for me.

“Please, call me Grier. Assuming all goes well, we are to be married soon, after all.” I couldn’t help but wince at the word, and my mouth felt dry. I saw his scarlet eyes flicker to me at their corners. “And what are you comfortable with being called, Your Highness?”

I hesitated, unable to resist flinching ever so slightly as the door clunked closed behind us. “My name is Nikostratus, if it pleases you, Your Majesty.”

“Grier.” He corrected, and led the way down the smaller side hallway. I hardly took notice of my surroundings, feeling hollow and numb. “And it matters not if it pleases me. It is your name, no? Though I will admit it is a bit of a mouthful.”

I didn’t answer. I wasn’t sure how to answer. The weight of it all was suddenly dropping onto me, and I felt my palms clasped behind my back growing sweaty. I swallowed, tightening my jaw. There was still much to discuss before the arrangement could be finalized. I had to keep my head level, for the sake of my people. I could not let the goblins take more than an inch in negotiations. Couldn’t let myself be razzled by whatever life I had just signed myself up for. It was entirely possible that had been his intent! Perhaps the entire ‘marriage’ would be an endless attempt to manipulate me into breaking; to gain the upper hand. Just how far would a goblin be willing to go for one of their pranks? An arranged marriage certainly didn’t seem out of that scope. Would it lead up to the ceremony? Beyond?

“Do you have any other names you like to go by?” He pressed, opening a grand carved oak door and standing back to allow me to enter first. I stiffened, but nodded appreciatively and stepped past him as quickly as I could. “A nickname? Or perhaps you wouldn’t mind if I choose a term of endearment for you?” His voice was light and teasing, but it made a chill run down my spine. “Perhaps ‘sweetheart’ or ‘dear’. I have always liked the term ‘pet’, though I believe it would be ill suited for our… situation.”

I swallowed hard again, grinding my teeth quietly as I stopped before the grand desk in the room. I turned my head slightly to watch him saunter around to the other side after closing the large door behind himself.

“I prefer Nikostratus.” I hoped my voice didn’t sound too dry.

His crooked smirk didn’t lighten the burden of my nerves, nor allow me any relief from the notion this whole mess was simply some ploy. Some elaborate goblin mischief. But he didn’t sit in the ornate chair behind the desk as I had anticipated. Instead, he gathered up an inkwell, a handful of quills, and a roll of parchment and brought it over to the overly plush chairs set before the grand fireplace of the room.

I used that moment to take stock of the study for the first time since entering. It was large, with tall stone bookshelves filled to bursting with old tomes. The smell of their ancient parchment as well as the smoke from the fire in the large fireplace suffused the room. There were assorted knick knacks dotting every available surface, from a golden astrolabe to a pristinely painted globe and even a silver sundial propped against one wall. Aside from the huge desk and plush pair of armchairs, there was a small marble table before the fire, and a silver cart piled with various shaped decanters and glasses. The entire room was disheveled and cluttered, with heaps of parchments and quills strewn about, tomes left half opened with numerous different things from ribbons to dried flowers tucked between their pages, and the evidence of projects started but never completed.

The study was also vehemently colored, with no two fabrics matching another. There were glittering crystalline mobiles and diagrams and draped scarves dangling from the rafters. Various pillows in different shapes, colors, and sizes pooled off the armchairs onto the floor which was covered with several overlapping carpets that absolutely had no unifying color scheme. It was overwhelming, and I couldn’t help but cast an apprehensive eye about as he settled in one of the two chairs facing each other.

“Are you hungry?” He offered, simply sweeping whatever had been on the small marble table onto the floor with a clatter to make space for his parchment and quills. “Perhaps some tea? I believe I have heard humans like tea.”

It took me a breath to realize he had spoken to me. When his red eyes lifted to my face, I straightened sharply, but shook my head.

“No, Your Majesty, thank you.”

He scoffed, waving one green skinned hand. “Grier.” He corrected me again. “Now sit. We have much to discuss if we want to have a proper marriage contract drawn up tonight.”

I let out my breath slowly between tight lips. I could do this. Write up a marriage contract. A peace contract, rather. I knew how to negotiate. How to write contracts. And I needed to make sure the terms were in my kingdom’s best interest. Slowly, I walked over, glancing down at the plush chair facing his briefly before lowering myself into it. I sat at the very edge so as not to disturb the large quantity of odd shaped pillows there. This would be easier if I just was careful not to remember it was my marriage contract.

“Now then, down to business,” He drew up his quill, scribbling a long, over flourished sentence at the top of the parchment. “And I would urge you to speak your mind here, my young Prince. We must be able to forgo formalities and niceties if we are to complete a formidable and agreeable contract.” He dabbed a note. “As discussed, removal of my soldiers from your kingdom is first.”

I nodded, eyeing him as his long fingers deftly maneuvered the quill into forming short, neat little letters. “We will need to redefine the borders between the two kingdoms as well.”

One thin eyebrow raised, and he glanced up at me through pale lashes. “However do you mean?”

I placed my hands on my knees, back still ramrod straight. “The skirmishes over the last decade have allowed disputed territories to fall into your control. We would need them returned.” I cocked my head ever so slightly to the side. “As a sign of your good faith.”

He tsked, but seemed amused. “You will find I have treated your citizens quite admirably while they were beneath my occupation.” His quill scratched across the page. “Perhaps they may not wish to return.”

I paused, but decided it was just an effort on his part to get a rise out of me. “Never-the-less… They will be returned. And our borders will become defined and respected.”

A soft ‘hrumph’, and he leaned back in his chair, re-reading what he had just written. “Very well… though perhaps I was under the misinformation that our kingdoms would become united with our marriage? Forming into one?”

I resisted the urge to flinch at his words, feeling my knuckles clench slightly with the effort. “A kingdom cannot have two Kings. Royal marriages unify countries, but they do not become a single kingdom. Borders are open, allowing for trade and travel ease for citizens, as well as lower taxes for goods produced.” My voice sounded hollow and distant, even to my own ears. “There is also the expectation of allied forces, should a conflict arise for either kingdom.”

“My kingdom will.” He mused, penning a note.

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Have two Kings,” He glanced up at me, his crooked smirk forming again, “My Kingdom will. Unless I have your future title wrong. Would you perhaps remain a Prince by human customs?”

I felt heat rising around the edge of the collar of my shirt. “The title is not important.”

The goblin sat up taller in his seat. “It is important.” He insisted. “I want to be sure you, as well as your people, are comfortable with all terms of this contract. These are terms of peace, not surrender.”

Then why doesn’t it feel that way? I wondered quietly, but otherwise didn’t comment further. Clamping my lips shut. I reminded myself again why I was doing this; for my people. For Morgana. He waited for me to speak for a moment, his red eyes locked on my face. For my part, I made a point to focus on the fireplace. 

“Alright,” He relented finally, impatient, “You tell me. What title would you have? If this was a contract between humans, hm?” He twirled the quill nimbly between his fingers. “I want to be sure to use the proper terms, so there is no confusion.”

My hands slowly curled into fists on my knees. “The title is not important.”

He sighed impatiently. “Oh come now. If it’s not important, then it should be simple enough to answer, yes?” He twirled the quill again, and my eyes darted to it from their corners. “If this was a marriage contract between a human Prince and a human King, upon their marriage, what title-”

“There is no such thing,” I snapped, cutting him off as my temper flared, “Of a marriage between a Prince and a King. It does not matter what title you choose, the concept is abhorrent to my people, and the marriage will never-” I stopped short, closing my eyes and slowly letting my breath out through my nose. “...While it will be accepted as a valid and legally binding contract of peace… It will never be accepted as a true marriage.”

A tense silence stretched between us, and for a long moment, I feared I had ruined everything. That he would no longer feel an arranged marriage between us would hold the same weight. I felt the sinking dread that the loss of my temper had doomed my sweet little sister. Or perhaps my entire kingdom. For certainly such a slight would never have been permitted in our court. A proposed marriage contract that was not a recognized marriage? Unacceptable. I sat with my eyes closed, my lips in a tight line, trying to steady my breathing. To regain my composure.

“... If I have misjudged you,” He began slowly, his previous arrogance and teasing gone from his tone, “... Or if I have been misinformed as to your… preferences...” I may have winced at the words, but I was clenched far too tight to notice “-We do not have to go forward with this contract. I will not sign anything without the clear consent of both parties.”

I slowly opened my eyes, keeping them firmly focused on the table beside me. Not daring to lift my gaze to his, though I felt his own boring into my skull. He sat silently, perhaps expecting an answer. But I did not have the strength to give it just yet. My fists were clenched so tight they were nearly white. For all his words… he didn’t seem to understand. There were no other options for me. We had to go forward with this contract. For the sake of everything I held dear. And yet, to do so meant … I struggled to keep my growing emotions in check.

“... I will expect this to be a marriage,” He informed me after the brief pause, his tone growing harsh, almost angry, “With all things that come with that. Including its consummation.” I did wince now, and internally kicked myself for doing so. “And I will not enter into a marriage where I am required to rape my partner-”

“Enough.” I boldly cut him off again, shaking my head. My voice quivering with my own anger at his vulgar yet casual language regarding such an intimate topic.

He paused again, giving me another moment to take a few deep breaths to calm my nerves. His voice, when he did speak again, was flat, but firm. And I recognized its authoritative nature. I was reminded again why this man, short of all his other faults and no matter his species, was a King of a powerful people.

“Am I wrong, Prince Nikostratus, in my judgement of you?”

I felt as a child, being scolded by their elder, and my throat was dry for that sake alone. I would have to admit it, I realized. I would have to admit it out loud, for the first time in my life. I would have to face a reality I had consigned myself to deny and carry with me to my grave. I was a Prince, after all. And a secondborn Prince at that. I would never have the power or freedom to act as I wanted; I would always be held to the responsibility of my station. The necessities of my kingdom. And despite everything, despite the deep longing I had always held to be able to love whomever I wished… I found my lips faltering to form the words.

Part of me believed it was a trick still. Some long, drawn out plan of humiliation. Of shame. Of deceit meant to ruin my honor and reputation among my people. To expose me to my family. I felt the familiar rage bubbling up inside me, and clenched my jaw in an effort to quell it. All the while, I felt his red eyes still staring at me. Waiting for the answer I had prepared myself never to give.

“... Make no mistake, Your Majesty,” I began slowly, my voice soft but hard, “If there is one thing I am sure of in this world… it is that I love my little sister with every fiber of my being. And I would do everything in my power to protect her from the evils of this world.” Carefully, I raised my gaze to meet his. “Whatever face that may take.” He opened his mouth, but I jerked my hand sharply up to keep him from speaking, lest I lose my nerve. “I understand what I am agreeing to. I understand fully what will be... expected of me. And whatever my… “ I dropped off, struggling to find what I wanted to say. I winced at the first word that came to mind, for I hated it most of all. But spat it out bitterly none-the-less. “... conflictions may be, I enter this contract with full consent. I beg your indulgence that this is enough for you for now.”

I was proud that I never broke eye contact with him as I spoke. His startlingly red eyes watched me unblinkingly, and even as I finished, he stared. Turning my words over in his head. I felt sweat beading at the base of my neck, but maintained his gaze. Stubbornly resisting the urge to turn away or drop my eyes from his.

“If I hear what you’re saying in regards to your people,” He returned finally, and I let out a little gust of air I didn’t know I had been holding, “Then I can hardly blame you for struggling to… accept our situation, such as it is.” He drummed his fingertips on the arm of his chair. “But you are sure? Once we move forward with this contract, there will be no turning back.”

I nodded without hesitation, and I saw his smirk return to the corners of his mouth. “I am sure.”

“You will be King Consort, then,” He replied, picking up his quill again, “As is the custom for my people.” He scribbled a few lines quickly before continuing. “Your authority will be more or less equal to mine, but the difference in title allows for differentiation when referring to us.” His long nose twitched as his smirk returned to its full strength. “Pronouns can be tricky in such situations.”

“...I can imagine” I said dryly, finally letting my gaze drop.

“And since you are sure, perhaps we should move on to the more domestic qualities of the contract, yes? Now, how many children?”

I blinked stupidly, my eyes jumping back up to him in surprise. “...Eh?”

“How many children?” His voice was light and cheery, and I saw the mischievous glint in his eyes that left me quite annoyed. “I’ve always wanted a large family, but I am flexible on the matter.”

“...You’re joking.”

“Hardly.” He twirled the quill again. “As King, I am expected to provide an heir. There are several options available to us, but it is best we make these decisions now. Just to be certain we are on the same page and have the same expectations. It avoids arguments down the line.”

I struggled to keep my composure, and saw his smirk grow by a few molars at the sight. “What… what are the options?”

“Well, we could adopt, of course.” He mused, tapping one long finger against his angular chin. “Or we could hire a surrogate.”

“Surrogate?” I echoed, dumb founded. I had never heard of such a term before.

He nodded, eyes shimmering with delight. “Yes! A female to carry our offspring. Typically of good stock; the screening process is quite vigorous. We can each lay with her and let the die be cast in whatever way it may land. Or, with your consent, I will impregnate her-”

“Wh-whichever.” I blurted quickly, feeling my face growing hot. I hated how easily he managed to keep me off balanced, and each slip of my composure left me feeling guiltier than the last and more determined to maintain it.

“Ah, but then there is of course the magical route.” He continued, almost gleefully ignoring my reaction to the less savory parts of the second option which had the blush rising to my cheekbones despite my efforts.

“The… the what?”

“The magical route.” He repeated, steepling his hands together with a grin. “A simple, temporary spell that allows one of us to impregnate the other and carry our progeny to term-”

“You’re making that up!” I snapped despite myself, feeling my face flush even more.

He pretended to look much more appalled than I was certain he was. “I would never! Producing an heir is a very important matter which I take with the utmost seriousness!”

I struggled again to return to the stoic face of a stately Prince I had perfected over the course of my life. But his words had my thoughts reeling, and I couldn’t help my mouth dropping open slightly. Looking pleased with himself, he stood, walking over to the cart of drinks.

“I am parched. Would you like something? Or I can send for tea if you prefer?”

I managed to close my mouth, staring at the seat he had vacated for a long moment. I heard the clinking of glass, and cleared my suddenly dry throat.

“...Brandy. If you have it.” I rasped, my voice strained.

His laughter was almost melodic, and I heard the continued clinks as he dolled out a second glass. “Excellent choice, my young Prince.” He purred, returning with both drinks in hand. “I see we are a perfect match on that front.”

I took the glass numbly, sniffing the amber liquid instinctually. I was surprised to find it seemed of higher quality, and sipped it experimentally. Grier took his seat once more, crossing one leg over the top of the other.

“Now, which method do you prefer?” He mused, taking a sip from his own glass.

I nearly choked on my second sip, and sputtered momentarily. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye to see his crooked grin. I shook my head, swallowing the burning liquid.

“...Umm, wh-whichever.” I almost winced at the improperness of my stuttering speech, gritting my teeth.

He raised one slender eyebrow, smirking. “Even the third? I hear it is quite the experience.”

I took another hurried sip of the brandy. “...Maybe not that one.”

He laughed again, and I felt my ears burning. I turned, focusing on the fire, watching the flames lick and pop. Trying to ignore the feeling of his eyes on me. Trying to distance myself from the idea of raising children of all things with this creature sat across from me. He’s just trying to get a rise from you, I told myself. Always, constantly. Poking and prodding. Trying to gain the upper hand in negotiations. Amused by my discomfort.

“We’ll write a ‘to be determined’ for now.” He declared, picking up the quill once more. “But we’ll discuss it again later.”

I snuck a peek at him while he wrote, studying him out the corner of my eye. His wild hair fell about his sharp features, and the way the light hit his green-grey skin it seemed almost warm to the eye. I found myself wondering at the thought of spending a life with him. Wondered what it would be like beyond this room. Beyond this evening. I took another steadying sip of brandy, pretending my hand wouldn’t be shaking if it hadn’t held the glass.

“How many then?” He pressed, glancing up at me. “I believe six is a good number. Even, but manageable. Yes?”

I looked down at the amber liquid in my hands. “I-I…” I dropped off, shaking my head, steadying my voice, “I had never thought about it.”

“Why ever not?” He quipped, dipping the tip to scribble another note.

I didn’t answer him, but felt my brow furrow. Of course, the real reason was because I had never expected to be able to choose. Had never expected to be married, and if I was, I would be grateful to be able to conceive at all. My marriage prospects had always been slim; the likelihood was of me being paired with a widowed partner whose late husband’s lands were in dispute, or an elderly monarch whose wealth would be our greatest asset. Whatever would best benefit the Kingdom. It didn’t matter the partner, not like my older brother’s, just what she would bring to the table. Therefore, planning children had simply never really been a thought of mine. And now that it was? I wasn’t sure what to think of it. Had no basis for what I wanted. Had no basis for what would be expected of me as a parent, nor how I would feel being so fully responsible for another life. My lips tightened, and I found myself at a loss for words again.

“Hmmm. Six it is then. But we’ll see where the tides take us when the time comes.” I almost sighed with relief that he let the matter go. A few more soft scratches. “Alright, lovers is next on my list.”

Again, I sputtered, nearly choking on the brandy halfway down my throat. “Lovers??”

He nodded, looking up at me with a coy twist on his thin lips. “Yes. Traditionally, human Kings take lovers I believe. But goblins tend to be monogamous in marriage, unless previously agreed before the ceremony. Do you wish to be allowed to take lovers?”

Again, it was simply not something I had ever considered. Nor had the foggiest notion of how to approach. Certainly it was not a concept boldly discussed in any capacity, regardless of the fact that it was common knowledge. High society dictated such things be carefully and politely ignored. Not discussed over a marriage contract. He waited, tapping his finger against the quill. Watching my face. I swore he was enjoying himself.

I shook my head. “I… I have no desire to…” I cleared my throat, then shook my head again.

He leaned forward, propping his chin on his slender fingers. Coy smirk playing about his lips. “You would remain completely faithful to me?” He purred, looking at me through his pale lashes. “I have no qualms allowing you to take lovers if it would make you more comfortable.”

I snorted faintly, burying it in my glass as I took another sip. As if anything about this conversation was likely to end with me being comfortable. The drink was already almost gone, and I could feel its effects curling tenderly about my insides. Warming my stomach, tickling the edges of my mind. I pretended it was the brandy making my cheekbones and neck flush, rather than the conversation. It was hard to separate the contract from myself when the bastard kept asking such personal questions.

“Monogamous.” I muttered finally, keeping my gaze fixed on my lap, even though it made no sense. My point was clear. After all, if I was going to do this marriage thing, I was going to do it right. Consign myself to my misery. And certainly not give this man any further ammunition against me in the future. Better to go it alone, as I always had.

His faint chuckle had me stiffening, but I pushed aside my discomfort. Reminding myself what this was all for. His quill scratched audibly across the page.

“Alright then, living quarters. Combined or separate?”

I nearly groaned. Another personal question? I ran my thumb over the lip of my glass. “Why is it necessary for that to be in the contract?” I grumbled, barely managing to conceal my irritation with his prying.

He tsked me, taking a deep sip of his own drink before flicking the feather of the quill at me pointedly. “We are embarking on a cross-cultural experiment, my young Prince. It is important all things be discussed. To avoid undue arguments and discontent down the line. No matter how trivial it may seem now.”

I almost snorted again but shook my head instead. “Kings and Queens traditionally have separate quarters.” I mumbled distantly. Would that notion matter in this instance?

“Really?” Breathed Grier, returning the quill to the inkwell and picking up his glass again. “I had heard such, but believed it more a formality than a common practice. How are conjugal visits managed?”

I glanced up at him, trying to discern if he was prying again. Trying to raise my ire. But he seemed genuinely curious, his red eyes sparkling in the firelight. I sighed deeply, raising one hand and rubbing at my brow.

“The Queen usually visits the King’s chambers regularly, until she becomes pregnant.”

“And after?”

I shrugged, raking my brain to remember how it had been between my own parents. “... Once an heir is produced, the visits are… less regular…” Likely because they were merely duty and obligation before. And once the coupling had produced a child? The King could return to his whores and the Queen to whatever her fancies.

He ran his finger over his lip, leaning back in his chair. “How absolutely odd. No wonder your people are so sexually repressed. You never see one another.”

Perhaps it was the now empty glass in my hand. Perhaps it was the fatigue from the long journey, or the emotional stress from the last few hours. But his words made me snort loudly, my facade of stoic calm dropping long enough to let a few short, soft laughs peter from my mouth.

When I looked over at him, he looked surprised. His eyes were wide, his slender brows high. My laughter faded, and I cleared my throat quickly, straightening.

“My apologies, Your Majesty, that was-”

“Please,” He stopped me again, reaching out one hand, “Just Grier. No ’Your Majesty’. And do not apologize.” He grinned, and for the first time, it seemed actually genuine rather than teasing or coy. “I am glad to see you are at least capable of laughter… Though I have yet to see you smile.” His smirk returned, and his eyes became playful. “I am not certain you know how.”

I rolled my eyes slightly, and a small scowl came over my lips. But I found myself not as annoyed as I had been at his teasing. I heard him stand, and his hand gently reached out and took my glass. I felt my heart skip a beat, though I berated myself for the foolishness as he returned to the cart with both.

He held my gaze for a moment too long as he passed me back my refilled glass, and I felt heat creeping up my neck. But I was careful to keep my face a careful mask of stoic indifference. It had been foolish of me to allow him to gain the upper hand thus far in negotiations. To let him put me constantly on edge with trivial questions that had nothing to do with the long term prosperity for my people. I was determined not to allow it to happen again.

Grier took his seat once more, swirling the brandy in his glass and taking a slow sip. Still, he watched me with those startling scarlet eyes. I felt my lips curving into a slight frown, but waited. As King, he should always be the one to speak first. It was not my place to address him unless I was first addressed. Perhaps he knew this, which is why he declined to speak. Instead fixing me with his unnerving gaze. Or, another part of me reasoned, perhaps he did not. Perhaps goblins did not have this custom, and he was waiting for me to speak first. As the guest. In which case, it was disrespectful for me not to speak.

I was still torn, debating which line of etiquette we were following, when he leaned forward in his chair and rested his elbows on his knees. My eyes flicked back to him at the movement, the only hint to my surprise.

“I find I am curious about you, Prince Nikostratus,” He said, sly smirk still dancing about his lips, “In truth, I did not expect you to agree to such an arrangement as this. And when you did, I was certain I would be able to call your bluff quickly.” My grip on my glass tightened, but I remained otherwise unmoved outwardly. “And if we are being completely honest, which I believe we should be, I originally proposed it to force you to trade your little sister for the sake of your own comfort and pride.”

I felt a chill run down my spine at his words, and my eyes narrowed sharply. “My sister?”

His expression faltered at the iciness of my tone, and even his smile shrank a few inches. The goblin quickly raised one hand. “Not for any untoward reason, I can assure you. More to gauge who you are as a person.”

I considered him, my gaze still chilled. A sinking feeling had grabbed hold of my nerves and dragged down the sensation from my fingertips with it. Leaving a tingling numbness slowly spreading through my body.

“Then you do not intend to keep this contract, Your Majesty?”

He chuckled nervously, finally dropping those scarlet eyes in the face of my cold, growing rage. “I feel we have regressed-”

“On the contrary,” I interrupted, eager to exploit his sudden off balanceness as he had so readily exploited mine, “I feel we have finally come to the end.” I started to stand, reaching out to place my glass on the table. “If you are quite done wasting my time, Your Majesty, I will return when you are ready to discuss a real contract for peace, rather than whatever sham you have attempted to ply onto me thus far.”

“This was not any kind of deception-” He jumped to his feet as I stood, quickly skirting over as if to block my path. “Your Highness, please-” I moved to step around him “-Prince Nikostratus!”

I froze, then looked down at him, his hand firmly clamped on my arm. His pronounced brow was knotted, his scarlet eyes narrowed. I found his grip surprisingly strong, despite his diminutive stature. The goblin was about a foot shorter than me, but it was a fact easily forgettable considering the square of his shoulders and the determined way he set his angular jaw.

We stayed like that for a breath, staring at each other. I fixed the King with as cold a glare as I could manage, and I saw him searching my face for a long, quiet moment. I wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but I was careful to keep up my stoney visage to be sure he would never find it.

“I have spoken too brashly,” He interjected finally, his voice soft, “And have thus insulted you… Which was far from my intent.” He gestured with his other hand, back to the arm chairs. “Please, Your Highness, allow me a moment to explain myself.”

I glanced back over my shoulder at the chairs, and my lips pinched tighter together in displeasure at the idea of returning. Disgust rolled in my gut, and I felt bile rising in my throat. But I worked hard to cool my anger. Reminding myself that whatever monster I was dealing with, I had to best him at his game. For everything I had left behind, and for everything that may yet lay before me. And perhaps, for the first time since we had met, I had him on the defense. It might be best to keep him there.

So I gave him a curt nod. “As you wish, Your Majesty.” I agreed stiffly.

He dropped his hand, relief flooding his features. I considered that for a moment as he magnanimously extended his arm. Leading the way back to the armchairs. I stood before mine, but did not sit, instead choosing to cross my arms over my chest. I had been told, due to the athletic tone of my body, that this was a rather imposing gesture on my part. Morgana had once told me it made my arms, chest, and shoulders look twice as big. My advisors had dryly followed up by telling me to never do so, as it hardly left the impression of a stately Prince. More, they said, a warmongering savage. But at that moment, I didn’t care. I wanted to make the goblin King feel small. I wanted him to be fearful and on edge.

I saw his eyes running me up and down, saw his narrow eyebrows twitch. He declined to sit as well, instead choosing to stand and face me with his three fingered hands lightly on his hips. 

“When talk of peace between our two Kingdoms first arose,” he began, “I was the one who proposed a union through marriage. I had thought it a sign. My advisors have long been pressing the idea of my marriage, but I had always been hesitant. After all,” He smirked slightly here, “You only get married once.” He straightened, his smirk becoming a frown, “But I was told that your sister would be my prospective partner, as the King’s only daughter. The prospect of marrying a child, for any reason, left me ill at the thought.” He shifted, tucking his hands against the small of his back. “So when I learned of your lack of interest in the fairer sex,” He continued, and I stiffened slightly at the implications, “I was relieved. You are an adult, after all, only a few years my junior, able to consent to the marriage of your own free will. You would understand what the arrangement would entail, and my conscience would rest easy knowing it was a consensual contract.” The shadow of his smirk returned to the corners of his mouth. “Imagine my surprise when I learned that your people would take a direct proposal of this nature as an outright insult! That they would rather I marry a child than a Prince.”

“And yet, Your Majesty, you chose to lay the insult upon me nevertheless.” I mused, my voice still cold. My anger still pounding in my breast.

He raised his hands defensively. “I did not plan to pursue that course of action. Not until I learned it was you yourself who would be coming to the peace negotiations did I see the opportunity to even do so.” He considered me slyly. “I had heard tales of your family, of your pride and snobbery,” He raised his hands again as my eyes flashed, but his voice remained light and teasing, “Though I much preferred an arranged marriage with you, I had assumed I would not find you an appealing match in the least.”

“Your Majesty, if you intend to continue this line of-”

“I put you to a test,” He interrupted, returning his hands to the small of his back, eyes dancing, “It was childish, perhaps, and I will honestly say, I did fully expect you to fail. I proposed the marriage to your sister, to see if you would agree to such an outrageous pairing. Then I offered you an alternative.”

I considered him quietly, mulling over his words. I thought about speaking then, in the silence he let settle about us. But I decided to wait to see if he had more to say. Though it seemed less a defense of his behavior thus far and more of a confession. So I waited, eyes slightly narrowed, arms still crossed over my chest.

“... So you see, I expected you to offer your sister to me, rather than risk your own image and honor. As I said before.” He paused briefly, and his head cocked ever so slightly to the side. “... But you surprised me.”

I gritted my teeth, scowling at him. “I am afraid, Your Majesty, that your so-called honesty has only confirmed my understanding that you were simply stringing me along. Intending to dishonor and embarrass me without any intent of-”

“I have every intent-” He interrupted me again “-Of marrying you. I always have.”

That made my breath catch in my throat, and my composure slipped ever so slightly around my eyes as they widened. I quickly reset my features, swallowing the lump forming in my throat.

He watched quietly, then gestured again to the chair. “Please, let us return to our negotiations. If we can move past this strife… For the good of our people, if nothing else.”

I hesitated, watching him sit as if the matter had been settled. There was still a question burning on my lips, but I was not certain I could continue on with any semblance of a level head if I knew the answer. For that reason, I chose not to ask it; not yet at least. I gritted my teeth again, studying him as he waited patiently, gazing up at me with those scarlet eyes.

“Your Majesty, If I find this is some long winded prank-”

“It is not.” He promised, then smiled his coy, teasing smile. “And please call me Grier, I beg of you. I cannot suffer the titles and formalities much longer than I absolutely must.”

I glanced back at the waiting armchair, at the abandoned glass of brandy. “What assurance do I have that it is not?”

Grier lifted one long, slender finger, tapping his lips thoughtfully. “We shall put it in the document, if it would set your mind at ease.” He declared, reaching out and picking up the quill once more. “Should it be discovered that either party entered this marriage contract under false pretenses, it shall immediately become null and void, and the offending party shall secede to the ruling authority of the other.” He ended the sentence on the page with a fancy flourish of the quill tip, and raised one brow at me. “Is that satisfactory?”

I resisted the urge to give him an un-princely grumble, and settled for a scowl instead. But I did return to my seat, slowly, stiffly, and after a moment reached for my glass.

“I believe we should discuss the ceremony itself.” He proposed tentatively, watching me through his pale lashes as he took another sip of his own brandy. “To be certain it is official and legally binding for both species.”

I swallowed my sigh, and gave a small nod. “As you wish.”

The goblin did not continue right away, cocking his head to the side again and studying me as he took a deep, slow sip of his drink. I waited, rolling my own glass distractedly against my palms. It was smooth, and cool to the touch. Almost as soothing as the liquid it held.

“But perhaps we can leave that for a later date.” I glanced over at him, and he flashed me a charming smile of pointed teeth. “I would like to hear what additions to the contract you would like to discuss first.”

I took a sip of the brandy, nodding much more resolutely. “Very well. The taxes levied on the people-”

He waved his hand, cutting me off. “No, no.” He sat forward in his chair. “Let the understudies and scribes deal with such tedious ticks. We will review them before the formal signing, but need not discuss the specifics ourselves.”

I frowned. “I beg your pardon, I thought you wished to discuss my additions…. What other addendum would you mean to discuss?”

Grier sighed deeply, and his lips twitched with amusement. “Those of a more personal nature, of course.” He swirled his brandy with a deft wrist. “We discussed those issues I felt might arise through the course of our marriage; children, lovers, living arrangements. You must have your own expectations for this union as well. Something to put in ink.”

I stiffened, and my gaze snapped down to the drink in my hands. “... I do not.”

He scoffed, waving his hand again. “Come now, there must be something. Summer castles, hunting trips, gifts, anniversaries, retirement plans. Perhaps religious beliefs? Dietary requirements?” I shook my head, and he rolled his eyes teasingly. “You must have some thoughts or plans for the remainder of your life.”

I took another sip of the brandy, letting it sit in my mouth for a moment before slowly swallowing it. “... I have no expectations.”

That set a deafening silence upon the cluttered room, and we sat in it for an extended period. Grier watched me, and I watched the flames flickering in the fireplace. Keeping my stoney expression flat and void. I forced all other thoughts from my mind to keep them from my face. As I had been taught and perfected through a lifetime of necessity.

“... It is late.” The goblin replied finally, clearing his throat and shuffling the parchment on his lap. “Undoubtedly it has been a long day. If you are agreeable, I will take you to our guest quarters for the evening so you may rest.”

I looked at the papers he placed upon the marble table. “The contract-”

“Will be there in the morning, when we are both more rested and fresh.” He finished, tossing his head back to drain the last of his glass and standing.

I followed suit, brushing my hands down my abdomen to smooth the starchy fabric there. He gestured to me as he moved towards the door, and the weariness of the day dragged at my shoulders. I found I had not the strength to argue further, and simply fell in step behind him as he pulled open the grand door and stepped back out into the hall.

I had never had a head for floorplans or layouts, and the twists and turns he led me down quickly became jumbled in my tired mind. Give me a war field with troops and battalions and I could coordinate and execute the most stunning and creative of maneuvers. Place me in a castle hall and give me directions to the kitchen and I would get lost. So I stayed at his mercy, allowing him to lead me deeper into his underground castle until we came before a set of old wooden doors.

“Here we are.” He exclaimed, halting and turning to face me. I stopped short to avoid running into his smaller frame. Sharp teeth grinned up at me. “You should find everything you need here. And I shall have an attendant at the door, should you find you require anything additional.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty-” I noticed his brow twitch slightly at the title, and I quickly clamped my mouth shut over the last syllable.

I saw him hesitate, glancing at the door, then back to me. I sensed there was more, and waited patiently. Even though my palms itched to open the door and have the peace of my own company. Even though my spine ached from holding so straight and perfect for so many long hours. I was well versed in patience; in serving the will of another at the expense of my own. So I waited.

“I would request your presence for breakfast.” He said, cupping his hands behind his back. “... Socially. For the pleasure of your company and to get to know you better, if you are willing.” Now it was my turn to hesitate, my breath catching in my throat. “You may decline, if you wish.” He added quickly. “I do not mind sending your meal to your rooms, then we may speak later to complete the final details of the marriage contract.”

My besotted mind could not quite fathom the full extent of the offer, and I belittled a sigh that managed to sneak out with a soft gust from my nose. My lips pursed, I nodded to the Goblin King, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck prickle even as I did.

“Of course, Your-.... Ehm…” I cleared my throat, then looked down at the floor. “Of course… Grier.”

His name tasted strange on my tongue, and felt wrong to say. But the way he beamed up at me with delight made heat scratch at the edge of my collar. I shifted my weight slightly, glancing back at the stone floor.

“Excellent! I will see you in the morning then, Prince Nikostratus.”

...

UPDATE: Part two HERE

[softbiker]

Born to Run - Chapter 17

Warnings: angst, alcohol abuse, anxiety, heartbreak, police violence (potentially triggering encounter, please heed the warning), language

Word count: 3.2k

A/N: Well, here it is. All I can do is say...I’m sorry. But I promise I’ll fix it. I decided to go ahead and post this tonight because I haven’t gotten to write much lately, I’ve been working constantly and now I’ve got a second job - so I just love getting to write and post when I can. Thank you for sticking with this story. It’s almost a year old now! As always, let me know what you think!!

“I dunno, Mom - I mean it’s not like I planned this-”

“Well, no, honey,” her mother huffed over the phone. “It doesn’t seem like you planned any of it.”

Y/N winced at the sting of her words but didn’t argue. With her phone wedged between her ear and her shoulder, she grabbed another stack of underwear and socks from the dresser and turned back towards her bed, where a suitcase lay open. A few pairs of jeans and a couple of sweaters were already folded inside. Off to one side, her toiletry bag was stuffed full - skincare and toothpaste and hair products she might not even use but tossed in anyway in her flustered packing frenzy. Her grip on the socks in her hands tightened to keep her fingers from trembling.

It had been 2 days since her fight - breakup - with Bucky. For the first 24 hours, she fell into an anxious, disorganized catatonia; she shuffled from room to room in her house, pacing and biting her nails, opening cabinets at random then promptly closing them. Her fingers tapped restlessly against her thigh, and her heart raced at a breakneck pace. If a single clear thought managed to arrange itself from the scattered clutter of her panic, it was only Bucky’s face, red-eyed and tear-stained as he pleaded with her. After splashing some water on her face and changing into sweatpants, she had put herself to bed, settling in for the longest night of her life. She tossed and turned, hearing the minutes tick by from the clock on the wall. At around 3 am, she threw off the covers in heartbroken frustration and stalked to the kitchen, setting the kettle on for tea and raiding her cabinets for any treats she could find. Thank God she still had that fancy dark chocolate she’d gotten last time she went to the city; it was the only thing her cupboards could provide in the way of comfort food. Armed with a steaming cup of lavender chamomile and an entire half-pound of dark chocolate she settled back under the covers and grabbed the T.V. Remote from her nightstand. If nothing else, she prayed Netflix could distract her, fill her mind with different faces, different voices - drown out the one that wouldn’t leave her.

She managed to doze off towards the end of Breakfast at Tiffany’s, tearful confessions playing in the background of her not-quite-dreams, and woke just before 7. A cold, clear morning greeted her through the window, the air in her room practically frigid, but something in it settled her. Quieted the static that had blurred out all thought since Bucky walked through her door the day before. With a deep breath, she threw off the covers and swung her feet out of bed, leaving the tea cup and chocolate wrapper to deal with later. It was her running shoes she reached for.

An hour and 10 kilometers later, she jogged back up her front porch steps, breathing heavy and feeling light. Her cheeks were charted from the wind, and her nose was running, but the grip on her heart had shaken loose. And as she clambered into the shower, stinging hot and billowing steam, new thoughts began to string together - thoughts for tomorrow, and the tomorrow after that.

Still in sweatpants, hair dripping, she’d scribbled down a list while she sipped her coffee. Names, to-do’s, a seed of a plan. In order, she phoned the clinic, her best friend, her residency program coordinator - and now, at last, her mom.

“I’m driving up to stay with Kat for a few days - maybe a week,” Y/N sighed, ignoring her mom’s comment. “Just to…clear my head, you know?”

“Sure, sure,” her mom agreed. “Though I don’t know why you couldn’t come here…I haven’t seen you since Thanksgiving-”

“Mom.” She closed her eyes, one hand settled on her hip. “It’s not a vacation.”

“No, sweetie, but it doesn’t hurt to come let your mom take care of you…”

Knuckles pressed to her eyelids, Y/N sat down on the edge of her bed. The old mattress creaked, as it had every night she slept in it for the last several months.

“I-I just,” she licked her dry lips and tried to swallow. “I need to be alone for a little bit, Mom. Once I’ve got it all figured out, I’ll let you know. And maybe…who knows, maybe I can come visit soon.”

“Sweetheart.” The voice on the phone is tired, resigned. “Why do you always try to do these things by yourself? You don’t have to be alone.”

Y/N’s throat tightened, her fingers curling into the fabric of her pants. She breathed slowly, warding back the lump that threatened to close off her voice.

“I’m sorry, Mom. But this time I do.”

**********

“You’ve got to go in there and wake him up-”

“I’m not doing it - I wouldn’t touch him with a 10 foot pole when he’s like this.”

“Well, someone’s got to. We’re bugging out in just a couple days-”

Heavy-eyed, and feeling like death warmed over, Bucky stirred at the sound of the voices outside his bedroom. Harsh winter sunlight burst through the blinds over his window; even before he opened his eyes it hurt. Something throbbed inside his skull, and his tongue felt thick and heavy in his parched mouth. Why the hell did he feel this bad? He couldn’t remember the last time he drank like this, to the point of blacked out nausea. His stomach roiled as he turned over, and he felt far too old to be drinking like there was no tomorrow, like he hated himself-

And then he remembered.

Y/N.

Suddenly he had no interest in getting up, getting water, getting something that would settle his stomach. He covered his face with his hands, fingers pressing firm against his eyelids and blocking out any light that came through. It was hot in his room, the combination of heating and a pile of blankets that someone had tucked him in with, but he didn’t move the covers, choosing instead to sweat underneath them.

How had he fucked up so badly? The best thing that ever happened to him - and now she was gone, baby, gone. It would’ve been alright, maybe, if Natasha had allowed him to talk to Y/N himself, but-

Natasha. Just the thought of her set his blood on fire, and he sat bolt upright in bed, his eyes flying open - only to immediately regret it as a stronger wave of nausea threatened to claim him. He quickly folded himself in half and put his head between his knees. When his head finally stopped spinning, he propped his elbows up against his knees and threaded his hands through his hair.

Already, he felt a thread of shame and guilt tugging at his gut. It wasn’t right to blame Natasha. He knew that. The lies were all his own; all Nat had done was reveal the truth.

But, God, the look on Y/N’s face - she had never looked at him that way, not even in the beginning when she was afraid he might be a criminal. It chilled him - right down to the marrow of his bones - the cold anger, the mask of disgust and disinterest that she wore to hide the way she hurt. And she did - he could see her pain cracking the ice in her eyes, no matter how she tried to hide it.

He hated himself for it.

A soft knock at the door, and Steve’s blond head poked in.

“Oh,” he said, eyebrows jumping in surprise. “You’re awake.”

Bucky’s scowl deepened as Steve and Sam kindly let themselves into his room and took up post at the foot of his bed.

“Yeah - thanks to you two. You wouldn’t know how to whisper if your life depended on it, Wilson.”

To his credit, Sam didn’t respond - merely rolled his eyes and cast an exasperated glance at Steve. With a sigh, Steve crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes down on the soft blue quilt Bucky had haphazardly wrinkled during the night.

“Look, I understand that you’re really upset right now.” Steve’s voice was soft, barely more than a murmur. “I know…I know how much she meant to you.”

Bucky felt his eyes starting to burn as he stared at his friends, and he hastily scrubbed at them with his palms, sniffing.

“But,” Steve continued, licking his lip. “We’ve got our marching orders - we’re on standby to pull out any day now. We - I - can’t have you going on binders, AWOL for 24 hours, and then stumbling in here piss drunk at 3 in the morning.”

“We thought you were dead, Barnes,” Sam added, clenching his jaw. “We’re on fuckin’ suicide watch, man. You’re gonna drink yourself to death over a breakup? Huh?”

Growling, Bucky reached behind himself for a pillow and hurled it at Sam’s head.

“Shut the fuck up-”

“No, Buck, Sam is right.” Steve’s brows were knitted together tightly. His eyes were sympathetic, but the rest of him was unflinching as stone. “You can’t do that again. What if you’d run yourself off the road, or gotten hit by a car?” Bucky scoffed, but Steve didn’t back down. Raising his voice he went on. “No, I really want you to think - would you be better off dead? Is that what you want? Is that what she would want?”

Eyes squeezed shut, Bucky saw her face right before him once again, her smiles, the way she used to look at him. The panic in her eyes during his parking lot showdown with Rumlow, the way she bit her lip when she was concentrating on something, how sleepy her eyes were in the mornings - each little piece of her, precious secrets he had tucked away in the hidden corners of his heart. He had thought, dreamed, that he had a lifetime to collect them all, fit all her parts together like a puzzle one piece at a time, and love every moment of it. Now, though. These lone pieces are all he has left, and they will never be enough.

What did she want? He knew only one thing for sure - that she was the only person who could say.

“I don’t think it matters to her either way, punk.”

**********

A few miles outside of town, just past the last lonely gas station, was the exit ramp to the interstate. The road had seen better years; the pavement was pitted with potholes and cracks, haphazardly patched with uneven lumps of asphalt that left drivers weaving between lanes and wondering which would do more damage to their tires. But, since this part of the state saw less traffic than other areas, infrastructure money was slow to trickle down towards repair and reconstruction.

Y/N had driven this road a handful of times - as she moved into town, and then when she had taken the drive a couple of times to visit her friends in the city. It was desolate enough to be a slightly depressing drive; nothing but scorched fields for miles on either side of the road, and the steep ditches that banked it on either side were overgrown with wispy stalks of dead grass. Overhead, a grey and overcast sky shadowed everything, promising a winter day best spent indoors.

She tuned in and out of a true crime podcast while she drove, hardly seeing the road in front of her. Her mind was too far gone on the events of the past few days - and everything she had to do with the coming ones. But there was something comforting here, in the grip of the wheel in her hands, a travel mug of coffee still steaming in the cupholder, an open road ahead of her. She felt…awake, present. Bruised, but not broken. And ready to get back up.

Of course, it shook her when a cop car pulled out of the overgrowth on the shoulder of the exit ramp, putting on speed to keep up with her. Mentally she reviewed her driving - still only 5 over the speed limit, her lights were on and working, her tags were in date. They had no reason to pull her over, she rationalized.

And they didn’t. The car stayed right behind her for the next 10 miles, quietly driving at her speed, keeping a couple car lengths’ distance between. No flashing lights, no sirens.

So why were her palms sweating?

After 20 miles, the sirens finally started blaring, blue and red flashes blinking in her rearview mirror. Despite being raised to respect the law, she felt nervous as she glanced back at the car, easing her foot off the accelerator, but not quite braking to pull over. She bit her lip, hesitating another few seconds as the alarm grew louder behind her. Her stomach clenched nervously.

Stop freaking out. You’re just worried about getting a ticket. Sucking in a deep breath through her nose, she scolded herself and gently pulled her car over to the side of the road, careful not to get too far into the muddy grass along the shoulder. Fingers fidgeting nervously on the steering wheel, she watched as the officer got out of his car and strolled up to her window at a leisurely pace. His head was shaved, and he wore dark mirrored sunglasses, in spite of the gloomy light of the day. As she rolled down her window, she squinted at his face, trying to recognize him from the adrenaline-blurred memories of the night Bucky killed Brock Rumlow - but the low slope of his cheekbones, the clean-shave, the firm-set frown are all unfamiliar to her.

“Good afternoon, ma’am,” he greeted her, one hand on his hip. It drew her eyes down towards his gun. “License and registration please.”

Instinctively, she nodded and reached towards her wallet lying in the passenger seat to dig out her license. The officer was silent, propping one hand against her car while he waited; she could hear her own heartbeat in her ears and willed herself to calm down.

Clearing her throat, she gathered her courage and spoke up.

“Excuse me, officer-” He barely glanced up from where he was perusing her car registration. “Why did you pull me over?”

He looked up at her fully at the question, shifting his stance and licking his upper lip.

“One of your tail lights is out,” he said, shoving her papers back through the window. “That’s a real safety issue.”

“My tail light…?” Her tail light - which had been changed only a month ago. She knew, because Bucky did it himself. He had always been worried about her safety; every time she was going somewhere without him, he did a full inspection of the car, testing brakes and changing the oil, going over every last inch of it and then filling up the tank with gas before she left. Last time, she’d sat in the garage nursing a cup of cider as she watched him fiddle with the lights…

She shook her head to lose the thoughts of him.

“I’m sorry, sir, but my tail lights are working just fine, I just had the bulbs changed.” She leaned forward in the seat, peering up at the officer. “Are you sure that there’s something wrong with them?”

Frown deepening even further, he crossed his arms and widened his stance.

“Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to get out of the car?”

“Excuse me?”

“Get out of the car, ma’am.”

“What? Why?”

“Please, just calm down and get out of the vehicle.”

“But-” her protest broke off as he shifted his stance back, one hand inching towards the mace in his belt. She glanced at her phone, sitting in the unoccupied cupholder with her aux cable connected to it. Her fingers twitched - for a microsecond, she contemplated the very bad idea of reaching for it, refusing to get out of the car, calling-calling…someone. Someone.

But surely, if she cooperated, this would all be worked out with just a minor headache, or maybe a ticket, she reassured herself. She repeated it in her head as she unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door, climbing out of the car carefully, her hands held out to her sides where they could be seen.

Once she was out of her car, the officer took a step forward and pushed on her door, shutting it with a resounding click.

“Okay, I’m out of the car…”

“Turn around and put your hands on the hood.”

“I’m sorry, what?” she exclaimed, hearing her voice hitch in alarm. Her eyes cast up the road and back towards the exit ramps - there were no other cars in sight. No witnesses. “Am I under arrest?”

“Shut the fuck up,” he growled, out of patience. His hand went to rest on his gun now. “Turn around and put your fucking hands on the hood of the car.”

Her fists curled and she stood her ground. She willed away her thoughts of Bucky.

“No. I haven’t broken the law, you can’t arrest me for having a tail light out-”

In a blink, his gun was up and trained directly on her.

“Put your hands on the fucking car!” he yelled, loud enough to make her wince at the volume. Her thoughts tunneled on the barrel of the gun aimed at her chest.

Wordlessly, she turned and planted her hands on the cold metal, shivering in just her sweatshirt, her winter coat tossed in the passenger seat while she was driving. The tips of her fingers went numb and her eyes watered, stung by the wind. Her dry tongue pressed against the backs of her teeth - if she tried to swallow she’d choke.

“Who are you?” Her voice shook, but she managed the words. Scared and alone, but she’d fight, goddammit. She’d fight. He would want her to fight. “Who the hell are you and what do you want?”

“Shut up.” A firm, cold point of pressure between her shoulder blades as he pressed the gun against her back. There was a faint buzzing sound and then the rustle of fabric; when he spoke again, it clearly wasn’t to her. “Yes, sir?” He answered his phone. “Yes - we’re on schedule. I have the package. Will confirm when its secure and en route.”

Her heart raced wildly and her mind went white with fear. What was he talking about? This had to be some kind of mistake, a misunderstanding-

Just as she opened her mouth to speak again, the butt of his gun came down against the back of her head; her vision exploded in stars, and then faded to black as she slumped against her car. Barely conscious, she felt herself being dragged away down the road, lifted and shoved into the backseat of the squad car, unceremoniously dumped with her face down against the cold leather. The engine hummed to life; a seatbelt clicked - not hers.

“Sir?” He spoke again from the front seat. “Package is secured.”

She wondered if Bucky was coming to find her. He would, she told herself. He’d come.

And then, nothing.

[saxxxology]

a king’s duty

Sam likes a big family, and he’ll make sure it only keeps growing.

PAIRING: King!Alpha!Sam x Queen!Omega!Reader

WARNINGS: a/b/o dynamics, smut

NOTE: Do not save or repost my work without my consent. 

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Sam takes his kingly duties seriously. He’s ruled over his kingdom for well over a decade, ever since his father and predecessor gifted he and his brother their own sections of land. Nothing in life could be better; his citizens are happy and prospering, his servants are preparing a festival and banquet for the Easter holiday, and Sam himself is planning to ensure that the holiday bears an announcement to celebrate the day’s purpose.

You and Sam have made a decent family already, six pups over the last nine years of your marriage, but he wants more. A large family means more heirs to carry both his lineage and the throne, and you’re more than happy to give him all the children he wants.

He’s been gone on a hunt with the kingsguard for several days, tracking a herd of deer through the dense forests. When you hear the bellowing of the horns and the commotion coming from the town below, you race to your bedroom window and peer down into the streets. Sam’s on his towering steed, shaggy-haired and dirty from his travels. It’s late in the afternoon, and you know that he’ll be starving for a properly cooked meal. 

Sam loves it when you prepare his suppers. Within weeks of becoming his bride you’d arranged for your own private kitchens to keep regularly stocked with the finest meats and vegetables. Even though Sam is a well-liked king, there are still those from faraway kingdoms who despise his rule and the risk of accidentally eating a poisoned meal, albeit slim, is too much for you to gamble with. Your children also only eat from your kitchens, after an incident with rancid chicken and a weekend spent cleaning sick bowls and tending fevers and chills placed the wellbeing of your offspring in your hands alone. 

“Mother, mother!” Elizabeth, your firstborn, clutches your skirts, tugging frantically. She’s got her father’s coppery hair and hazel eyes, as do all your children—the only one to have your hair color is Anne, your one-year-old daughter. “Father’s home!”

“I know.” You set a cutting board on the counter and crouch to pull her into your arms. “Go fetch your siblings and greet your father. I’ll have supper ready soon.”

Giggling, Elizabeth races from the room, shouting for her brothers and sisters in the hallway. She’s a rowdy seven-year-old, much louder and more boisterous than the others, and you’ve noticed that her behavior is starting to rub off on your other growing children. Jonathan, at five and a half, is nearing her height and the two often have to be pulled apart during tussels in the hallways over dolls and other toys they’ve found. Katherine and Alexander, your only pair of twins, are more subdued, preferring to draw with bits of charcoal on the stone floors. Mariah is the youngest of the group, and she’s still discovering where she fits in, much less how to talk properly without getting frustrated. Anne is nearing one, and still sleeps heavily in her bassinet between feeds and cuddles from her parents. 

A decent pack with almost too many mouths to feed. 

Sam enters the kitchens just when you’ve dropped meat in an iron skillet. He’s got Mariah in his arms, Jonathan on his shoulders, and the other four trailing close behind, bouncing on their feet. His beard has grown thick, and you welcome his kiss with a slight grimace as the stubble grazes your skin. He looks tired, and you sigh happily at his warm, musky (if slightly smelly) scent.

“I missed you,” he hums, setting the children down and kneeling to welcome them all into his arms. “And how are my beautiful pups?”

“Your children have been quite the handful since you’ve been gone,” you reply, giving Elizabeth and Jonathan stern looks. “These two got into quite the tussle in the gardens yesterday.”

“Over what?” Sam raises his eyebrows.

“Snail shells,” Jonathan pipes up, “we were collecting them and Elizabeth stole mine!”

“I did not!” Elizabeth interjects. “I’m just better at collecting them so I got more.”

“Enough,” you tap your wooden spatula on the side of your skillet, “no more fighting while your father’s home, run along and wash up for supper.” You watch your children scamper off, shaking your head. “Those two… always a competition.”

Sam chuckles and presses another firm kiss to your cheek. “They get it from me.”

“Oh, I know they do,” you chuckle, wrinkling your nose. “Sam, you know I love you, but you do smell… please go and have a quick bath. There’s even some lavender soap for you.”

He sighs happily. “Of course, my love. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Your children come running back after you’ve finished preparing their dinner. As usual, you examine their little pink fingers for dirt (you have to send Alexander to the washbasin in the corner for a second cleaning) and allow them to take their places at the table. They squabble briefly for chunks of bread before quieting down, and you wonder with a shake of your head why you want so badly to add yet another child to your ever-growing pack.

When Sam returns, the food is lined on the table, and he serves himself before allowing the children to dig into their own plates. Anna’s woken from her nap, and you seek a brief respite from the chatter to feed her in the quiet of her nursery. She feeds heavily, suckling at your breast with enthusiasm as your sweet milk fills her little belly. Your milk production is slowing, a sign that you’re almost ready to receive another pup in your womb. 

The children are just finishing their supper when you return, and you allow each child a small square of chocolate from the market for their dessert before sending them off to their rooms to prepare for bed. Sam waits at the table as you spoon a helping of potatoes, meat, and drop a slice of bread onto a plate and meet him at the table. 

“How are you, my love?” he asks, gazing fondly at you. 

“I’m well,” you reply, “tired, but well.”

He squeezes your hand, giving a supportive smile. It’s often that you need reassurance that you’re a good mother, and Sam never fails to give you the encouragement you need. “You’ve done wonderfully in my absence, as always. Our pups are growing strong.”

You accept his praise with a flush of heat. “I can only do my best. Elizabeth is growing more outspoken by the day.”

“And your best is more than perfect.” Sam lifts your hand to his mouth, kissing your fingers. “Elizabeth is the eldest, and first in line. She’ll need to be outspoken when she takes the throne.”

You finish eating quickly and pile your dishes at the end of the table for the servants to clean. Sam helps you prepare warm milk and honey in small wooden cups and escorts you upstairs, to where your children are already tucked into their separate beds. After a drink, tuck in, and generous kisses from both you and Sam, they’re left to fall asleep. A quick check on Anna in her nursery proves that your babe is slumbering peacefully, and Sam pulls you into a deep, warm kiss over her bassinet.

Another day, another victory. 

In the safety of your private chambers, Sam helps you undress, pulling the ribbon from your bodice and lifting your dress up over your head and leaving you naked. His rumbling growl of arousal echoes in your ears as his hands skim over your sides, trailing around to cover the flat expanse of your belly. 

“I miss you being round,” he murmurs, “all big and swollen with our child…”

“I know you do.” You turn around stretching up on your toes to press your lips to his. His growing erection presses against your hip through his trousers, and he allows you to undress him slowly, teasing with soft skims of your fingers and warm kisses on his lips.

He lifts you onto the bed, kneeling forward until you can lie down with your head on one of the soft pillows. He kisses you hard, wedging his hips between your thighs. His weight is welcome on top of you, all warm and firm against your soft, pliant body. You’re already wet, and he uses that to his advantage.

“I’ve been thinking about this,” he whispers, “for days now… filling you up, giving you another pup….”

He groans when you reach between your legs and grip him firmly, guiding him to your entrance. He takes the lead when he feels himself slip into the soft crevice of your folds, and you stifle a gasp against his shoulder when he surges in in a quick, gratifying thrust. You’re tight, clenching wet and hot around his shaft like the night he’d taken you as his bride. 

“Let me relax,” you urge him, a palm against his shoulder as you fight the discomfort. It’s easier to take him during your heats; for an Alpha, he’s incredibly well-endowed, and you’re a smaller than average Omega. 

You’d made a joke after you’d mated for the first time that if his lordship came down to purely the size of his manhood he could rule the world. 

Sam peppers your cheeks with gentle kisses and gently rocks his pelvis, urging your body to grow accustomed to his penetration. When you settle underneath him, heels digging into the backs of his thighs, he seals his lips over yours and gives a steady thrust. You clutch his arms, sighing through your nose at the hot, thick slide. He presses deeper, rocking his hips from side to side, and increases the intensity of his movements, making love firmly and passionately. Just the way you like. 

“Oh, God…” you tip your head back, baring your throat for him, and Sam latches on, grinding his hips heavily against yours as his teeth scrape over your sensitive skin and the faint traces of your claim mark at the base of your throat. He growls when you dig your nails into his ass, and he braces his palms on the mattress as he ruts heavily into you.

Sam watches your face contort in the candlelight, brows arching as your mouth stretches into a wide smile. He’s found your sweet spot, and he focuses his thrusts there, grunting and panting like an animal. 

“That’s my Omega,” he praises, kissing you deep and wet. “Oh, that’s it… I can feel you, honey love…”

He curls one hand into your hair, thrusting a little harder and faster as you begin to peak. Your body flushes hot, sweat making your skin slippery. You wrap your arms around his back, nails digging into his skin, and Sam swallows your cry of pleasure as you shudder and writhe underneath him with the force of your climax. Your thighs squeeze his waist, and he groans loudly, his knot beginning to swell. 

He shoves the girth of it into your cunt with a vicious thrust that has you squealing. Bursts of his seed fill your womb, warming your lower belly as his teeth scrape over your shoulder. He goes lax with a heavy sigh, shifting so that your knees ride higher on his ribcage.

“My beautiful Omega,” he whispers softly, trailing a thumb over your lips. “I love you so much.”

Your reply is stifled by a kiss that has you squirming underneath his weight. He rests his forehead on yours, steadying his breath with a long, slow sigh. “We’re going to have another pup,” you whisper.

“I know we are.” Sam growls possessively and carefully rolls you onto your side, keeping your hips level with his. “I’ll fill you with pups as long as you’ll have them.”

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[goldenhemmings]

The Unforgettable Inning - A Stealing Second Extra | Baseball!Shawn

This is easily the quickest I’ve ever cranked out one of these extras; got the request today, knocked it out today. Don’t know what came over me. I’d recommend watching this before you read, it’ll help you understand the context of why the game referenced in the piece was so important. It was an elimination playoff game, it was being stolen from Toronto by horrible calls, and the fans were so on edge to the point where they were throwing things onto the field in protest. Then, Bautista. His home run released all the tension in every fan in the stadium. It was absolutely electrifying, and resulted in the most iconic bat flip of all time. One of the best moments in Blue Jays history. Anyways, here’s 1.9k words of Y/N trying to make Shawn feel better about baseball season being postponed. Enjoy!!

Baseball season should be a month in by now. 

You and Shawn both knew it, and the two of you were slowly starting to go crazy. It wasn’t that you didn’t understand why the season had to be postponed, because you did. There were more important things right now than sports. But baseball was your entire life, and to say you and Shawn were going stir-crazy stuck inside the apartment with nothing to do all day was a massive understatement. 

While you were upset yourself, you felt worse for Shawn. You, at least, still had a bit of work to do on a daily basis for your position with the team, but without a season, Shawn and the other players had nothing. He was trying to act like he was coping well, but you knew him too closely to believe him when he said he was doing fine. 

He’d thrown himself into training, trying to maintain his baseball-season form so he’d be ready as soon as the league said it was able to resume play. The gym in your apartment complex wasn’t anything like the one he had access to at the stadium, but it was better than nothing, and he was taking advantage of what he had available.

With the extra time you now had on your hands, you wanted to do something for Shawn that would take his mind away from the stress of feeling trapped, which you knew he did. You had a plan in place, but you were waiting for him to leave to put it into action.

As you sat cross-legged on the couch, your computer in your lap, you watched Shawn come out of your bedroom dressed to workout and clutching a water bottle.

You looked up from your laptop, trying to remain nonchalant. “Have a good workout,” you said, and he leaned over to quickly kiss your forehead. 

“Thanks, honey. I’ll be back in time for dinner.”

As soon as you heard the front door swing shut behind him, you closed your laptop and tossed it to the side. You knew his workout wouldn’t be more than an hour, so you had to move quickly. 

The first thing you did was call in a pizza, one half with everything but the kitchen sink on it for Shawn, because you knew he’d want the calories after a workout, and the other side plain cheese for you. 

You then moved into your room and dragged the comforter off of your bed, doubling back to grab as many pillows and extra blankets as you could hold in your arms. You tossed it all down on the couch before pushing the coffee table sideways and out of the way to the side of the room. 

You laid the blankets and comforter out on the floor in front of the couch until it made a comfortable enough cushion, arranging the pillows into a pile to rest against the bottom of the couch until you were satisfied with the way it looked.

When the pizza came you set the box on the coffee table, stacking two plates on top of it in preparation, then leaned over to plug in the fairy lights you’d finally convinced Shawn to let you put up in that corner of the apartment and dimmed the rest of the lights.

Once everything was set up to your satisfaction, you grabbed the remote to the TV and tapped it against your chin as you tried to decide what to watch, but you quickly got an idea that was better than any movie could’ve been. You switched over to YouTube, knowing exactly what to type in.

2015 ALDS Game 5 - Rangers vs. Blue Jays. You just about cried with happiness when you found the full game on YouTube. It was perfect. 

It wasn’t long after you had everything ready that you heard Shawn’s key jiggling the lock on the door. Your head snapped up from where it was bowed over your computer in the same position you’d been in when he left, and as soon as he came through the door you could make out a furrow in his brow through the now-dimmed lighting of the apartment. 

“What’s all this?” he asked, a smile grabbing at his lips even though he was clearly confused. He set his keys down on the table in the foyer, making his way over to you.

“Well,” you started, unable to keep yourself from grinning back at him, “I know you’ve been going crazy without baseball, and I have been, too, so I thought we could hang out and watch an old game or something.”

“Which one?”

“Hm,” you sighed, trying to think of a clue that wouldn’t give it away too easily. “It’s a good one, but I’m gonna make you guess it.”

He laughed. “Try me.”

“One of the most iconic Blue Jays games in this decade.”

“So it’s not from either of the World Series’ then,” he mused, “because that was the 90s.” You nodded, prompting him to continue. 

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Can I get one more hint?”

You made a show of rolling your eyes. “Fine,” you sighed out playfully. “I really expected more from you, though.”

“Shut up,” he laughed. 

“Okay. The unforgettable inning.”

“2015?” he guessed immediately, and you smiled. 

“Warmer.”

“ALDS game 5. Too easy.”

“Good job,” you teased. “I found the whole game online. I thought it’d be fun for us to watch it. I got pizza, too.”

He stared back at you with a small smile, and his silence elicited a nervous laugh from you. “What? Why aren’t you saying anything?”

“This is just really thoughtful of you,” he said, leaning in to kiss you.

But you pressed a finger to his chest to keep him at a distance, to which he frowned. “What?”

“Shower first,” you teased. “You look like you just crawled out of a swamp.”

“You’re really lucky that you just did all this nice stuff for me, because otherwise I’d chase you around until you were covered in sweat like this, too, just for that comment.”

“Well that would be pointless anyways, because girls don’t sweat.”

“I hate you,” he laughed, but he allowed you to shove him off in the direction of the bathroom. 

“Make it quick,” you called after him. “I’m bored already!”

After about 15 minutes he came back out, his hair damp and a pair of black athletic shorts hanging low on his hips. 

“Do you want to get me a glass of wine before you sit down?” you asked, batting your eyes at him.

“No,” he said, but he went into the kitchen to get it anyway. 

“I love you,” you called out jokingly, and you could visualize the way his eyes were rolling.

“I love me, too,” he said back. You just laughed. Such a shithead.

He came back over and handed you your wine glass, stepping over you to grab the box of pizza, the plates disregarded. 

“Plates!” you whined, but Shawn didn’t care.

“Just don’t make a mess,” he answered matter-of-factly. “I don’t want to do dishes.”

“You mean you don’t want to sit on your ass while I do dishes?” you jabbed, but he wasn’t bothered because he knew it was an exaggeration. 

“Yeah, exactly,” he answered sarcastically. “Get a piece so we can start the game.”

As soon as the 6th inning had ended, you felt a chill go down your back in anticipation of the excitement that was about to come.

“What?” Shawn asked, his chest shaking with a slight laugh. You were halfway lying on him, so he’d surely felt you shake. 

You giggled. “I got the shivers. The 7th inning gives me goosebumps.”

“It hasn’t even started yet,” he teased, jabbing a finger into your side to make you jump.

“But I know what happens!” you laughed. You grabbed his forearm so he couldn’t poke at you anymore, which ended in a power struggle to see who could grab hold of whose wrists longer.

“If you make me miss a single pitch of this inning I will make you sleep on the couch tonight,” you threatened, but it didn’t sound very menacing when you were forcing the sentence out through giggles.

He sighed. “Fine.”

You sat up and scooted out of his reach as soon as he took his hands off of you, and you could instantly feel his eyes burning a hole in the side of your head. “What the hell was that?”

“I don’t trust you!” you laughed. “I wanna actually watch this.”

“Truce,” he replied, holding his arms up in surrender. “I promise. Just come back.”

“So needy,” you teased, but you crawled back over to lie down on him again anyways.

When Bautista came up to bat after Toronto had tied it 3-3, you sat up and leaned slightly forward; you could not lie down and relax when you knew what was going to happen, especially considering the fact that you were already pretty fired up from the inning’s happenings thus far. 

“Here it comes,” Shawn said.

“No, it’s the pitch after this one,” you replied, negating him without tearing your focus away from the screen.

“I thought it was on the 0-1 pitch?”

“Nope. It’s the 1-1. Just watch.”

“But I--” Shawn started, but was cut off when the second pitch of the at-bat came in as a ball. 

“Told you,” you bragged triumphantly. “It’s this pitch.”

Shawn sat up with you, both of you waiting intently. As soon as Bautista sent the ball flying into left field and flipped his bat, you yelled like it was your first time seeing the hit. The cameras were shaking from how loud it was in the Rogers Centre, all the tension the fans had been feeling released with one crack of the bat. Your cheering turned into a jittery, excited laughter you couldn’t control as Bautista rounded third, and Shawn quickly joined in.

“‘You can only play with fire for so long, and it’s gonna burn ya,’” you giggled, quoting the announcer. You’d seen the play so many times you had the commentary memorized by now. “I fucking love baseball.”

“Maybe I should flip my bat like that the next time I hit a home run.”

“You couldn’t pull it off,” you retorted. 

Shawn sighed. “Yeah, I know. Bautista is way cooler than me.”

You laughed, crawling back on top of him. “Plus it was the playoffs, which makes it even better. Easily the most iconic bat flip of all time.”

“Easily,” he echoed, beginning to calm down from the hype of the hit. “I miss it so much.”

You sighed, grabbing his hand and squeezing it lightly. “I know. But this is the best we can do right now.”

“Thank you for doing this, honey,” he said softly. “You’re the best.”

“I know,” you sassed. He swatted at you playfully. “There are plenty of classic games on the MLB YouTube channel so we can watch more whenever you want. You know I’m down for that.”

“I know you are,” he replied. “Because my girlfriend loves baseball more than the average baseball player.”

You laughed. “That’s not true, but I’ll take it.”

“Mmm, I think it’s pretty true.”

“Whatever you say, rookie,” you breathed out, burying your head in the crook of his neck. He instinctively wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “Now let me finish watching this game.”

Thank you for reading!! Feedback makes me very happy.

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