#I GUESS HE KNOCKED OVER THE MOSTLY EMPTY LITTLE CUP OF IT ONTO HIS FACE??? OR SOMETHING???

[payasita]

GOD so i hear my brother freaking out in the living room like "MANDO WHAT HAPPENED??? ARE YOU OKAY???" and i run out and there is what looks like a GIANT red gash down the dog's forehead and snout

bro goes what do we do and i direct him to hold onto mando and clean the gash off with a wet towel while i look for some neosporin but the thing is. this dog is scared of Everything. he is 55 lbs of Run From Scary Plastic Bag Noise instinct and nothing else, and so i thought hed be freaking out more, or that we'd have at least heard SOME commotion when he gouged himself. but no he's just sitting there chilling out while bro wipes gunk off his face

so i just kinda. squint. "are we sure it's blood"

bro goes "i dunno?" and so i just like. turn on some lights, and we confirm whatever it is sure does Look like it's just sitting on top of the fur. so i lean in for a sniff.

it's salsa. from my carne asada fries

[pokedawriter]

PART 2:

The answer was no. No I had not. Time to fix that, I guess.

I go up the rest of the stairs, careful to skip the more sketchy ones. As the poor college student I am, instant ramen will once again be my dinner tonight. But I am no peasant! I add a soft-boiled egg to my ramen, like the classy bitch I am.

A classy bitch who’s poor, but a classy bitch nonetheless.

Stepping onto the balcony, I slurp my noodles while looking out at the nearby woods, enjoying the peace and quiet. The trees rustle with the breeze, the multicolored leaves shifting around. Beneath me, I hear another balcony door slide open then… the sound of a fan? I place my mostly empty noodles on the balcony railing, then lean over the edge.

My downstairs neighbor is putting a blanket over his balcony railing, before he heads back inside. The fan is positioned to be blowing into the apartment, though I can’t see inside. I do hear sweeping inside, and moments later, gray tufts of fur float onto the balcony. He must be the guy who owns the dog.

I lean over the railing a little more, hoping that I’ll be able to see the pupper, but the wind decides now’s a good time to blow a little harder, which sends my hair into my face and my noodles over the edge…

Splatting right onto my downstairs neighbor’s blanket, the now completely empty noodle cup rolling on his balcony.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!” I yelp. Before he can respond, I run back inside my apartment. Shoving my feet into my shoes, I hurry downstairs and knock on his door. It soon swings open, revealing a taller man with a mop of brown hair on his head. He sort of reminds me of a beanpole, but now is not the time to think of gardening. Or beans.

“I am so sorry! The wind knocked my noodles over. I thought it would be heavy enough not to be blown over,” I explain quickly, silently lamenting the loss of my classy-bitch-egg that I never got to eat.

“It's fine,” the man replies, his voice gruffer than I expected. “I can just wash it again. Shame my dryer isn’t working though.” A small puff of gray fur rolls out of his apartment and stops on my foot.

“Do you have a dog?” I blurt out. It's too late. My brain is thinking about one thing and one thing only now: dogs. The man stiffens a bit, as my thoughts whirl about what type of dog he has. It must be a long haired breed, right? Since there is all this fur. And this grey color… Oh! The howling last night! I must be a husky! Oh my gosh, there is a husky in there and I may be able to pet it if I-

“No, I don’t,” he says slowly, his eyes darting around my face.

I can’t help it when my expression falls. “Oh.” Then confusion. “Then why do you have so much fur in your apartment?” Ah yes, I love it when my mouth is much faster than my brain.

He pauses for a little, his mouth open slightly. Damn his canine teeth are LORGE. “My… cousin brings his dog over sometimes,” he trails off.

So pupper sometimes, got it. “That’s awesome!” I smile. “Next time he brings the dog over, may I meet it?” I bounce a little, then almost slip because my shoes aren’t on completely. I take this moment to make sure my heels are actually in the shoes.

“Uh,” my neighbor sweats a little, biting his lower lip. “Maybe..? The dog isn’t very friendly.”

Oh. Once again my face falls and my disappointment must be very obvious because my neighbor flinches slightly. I try to pick up my smile. “It's okay! The dog’s comfort is most important.” His eyes widen a little. “Anyways, sorry about my noodles,” I smile sheepishly while rubbing my neck. “You mentioned your dryer’s not working. If you want you can borrow mine. Or I can look at yours? Or both?”

“It's really no problem,” he mumbles looking backwards into his apartment, probably towards the blanket. I shake my head.

“That’s what I should be saying,” I sigh. “It's getting colder at night now, it's important to have enough layers.” Gosh, I sound like my mother. “It's not like we have fur to cover our bodies,” I joke. My neighbor does not laugh. Embarrassment decides to crawl up my cheeks and make them redder. “A-anyways! Please let me look at your dryer!”

For a moment I think he’ll say no again, as he examines me, sizing me up. Finally, he steps aside and opens the door more. I step inside and he closes the door behind us. “I never caught your name,” I say as I follow him in.

“Diego,” he says simply, leading me into the living room.

“Nice to meet you, Diego. My name is-” my words catch in my throat. Diego’s place is destroyed. The couches are torn up and ripped, their stuffing popping out in some spots. There are gashes on the walls and floors, but the most prominent issue is the sheer amount of fur that is EVERYWHERE. He must have groomed that husky in here for there to be that much fur, jeeze.

Diego glances back at me, examining my face as I take everything in. My rationality is asking how the hell this place got so busted, while my anxiety tells me to shut up and not ask. “Bet that dog is a cutie,” I say, deciding to focus my attention on the dryer.

“Maybe. More a menace though,” he mutters the second part under his breath but I laugh anyway. His dryer, like mine, is in the kitchen and I walk over to it as he gets his blanket from the balcony. Like everything else, it's blanketed in fur. I press the start button and it goes, surprising me.

“Seems like it's working just fine?” I turn to Diego, confused.

He shakes his head. “It’ll go, but it doesn’t dry anything.” He says as he shoves his blanket into the washer.

“Does it still get warm?” He nods, and I think I already know the solution.

I open the door and pull out the lint catcher and, yep, it's completely full. Pulling out the carpet of lint and holding it up, I look at Diego, my mouth in a tight frown. The only word that escapes me is “Bruh.”

He tilts his head slightly like a confused puppy. “What’s that?”

“The lint trap, man. You gotta clean this out every time you use the dryer,” I say, grimacing. “You’re lucky this didn’t start a fire!”

His eyes go wide, looking between me, the lint slab dangling from my hand, the dryer then back at me. I shake my head, put the lint trap back and place the compacted fluff into the trash. If he doesn’t know this… his vent is probably clogged too. I look at his room and the open balcony door with the fan outside and the fur rolling around on the floor.

“Okay, Diego, this is what’s gonna happen,” I sigh. “Can you pull your dryer out while I grab something from my apartment upstairs?” He nods and as I start to leave I hear a rubber rumble as he easily yoinks the machine away from the wall. Who knew Mr. Beanpole had it in him.

A few minutes later, I’m back from my apartment with the leaf blower my dad insisted I bring, despite me living in an apartment. Hose to the vent, I turn the blower and we go to the balcony and watch the lint fly out from a vent on the side of the building.

“We’ll let that go for a few minutes, then we can use the leaf blower to blow all the fur onto the balcony or out the front door,” I smile.

“You’re very handy,” Diego returns my smile with a little one of his own. “Do you think… you could look at something else, too?”

“Of course,” I nod. Yesss, give me all those good neighbor points and forget that fact I dropped noodles from the sky.

He points to his window air conditioner. “This isn’t working as well compared to when I first got it. And it heats up a lot.”

“Something’s probably wrong with the filter,” I say as I go over to it, turning the machine off. I open it up and- yup, the filter is dirtier than my search history. JK, haha… at least I didn’t say that out loud.

An explanation and a call later, I’m sitting at Diego’s desk ordering him a new filter because the landlord, as I fucking predicted, said he wouldn’t cover the cost of a new one. “Does the dog come often?” I ask, scrolling through Amazon.

“Dog?” Diego echoes back as he does the head tilt thing again.

“Your cousin’s dog?”

“Oh! Yeah, uh, that dog,” he looks away for a moment. “About, uh, once a month.”

“Once a month? And you get all this fur?” I look at him, eyes wide. Maybe I’m off on the husky mark. Maybe it's a great pyrenees? Or a chow chow? Who knows.

Diego’s face goes red and he looks away. “Um, yeah.”

“Then you’ll definitely want a filter that also helps with animal hair,” I scroll a bit and select a few for him to choose from. “Here, sit here.” He obediently sits and looks at the options while I go back out to the living room and use the leaf blower to remove the fur all over the ground. Once it’s on the balcony, I take the puffs by the handful and toss them over the ledge. All better.

Now his living room. Still a clawed mess, but… hey, I could fix it. A bit of caulk or spackling compound there, then sand and add primer and paint… maybe it's for the best that the landlord didn’t come to replace the filter.

Diego emerges from his office moments later. “Um… thanks, for all your help.” He bites his lip, and shifts his weight from leg to leg.

“Sure, happy to help,” I smile back. “And, uh, sorry about the noodles.”

He shakes his head. “It's alright. You’ve more than paid me back for that.” He looks away for a moment, then extends his hand. “Would you, um, be willing to trade phone numbers? You seem to know a lot more about home stuff than I do.”

I can’t help the huge smile that crosses my face. “Sure!” I take his phone and enter my contact information. Always good to get my neighbor’s contact info. Plus! This means I can ask him when the dog is next coming.

He sends me a text and I confirm I got it. I was going to put his full name, but then I saw he put me as ‘Sky Noodle Girl’ in his phone, so I put him as ‘Doggie Diego’, which he rolled his eyes at, still smiling.

I head back up the stairs and enter my own apartment. My still very empty and not unpacked apartment. Fuck. And I have homework. Double fuck.

And I didn’t even finish my noodles!

…

I’ve been here for two days and three nights and my shit shack is already testing my patience. Well, the landlord is.

“My foot went through one of the stairs,” I try to say as cordially as I can. The fresh scratch from the broken wood stings, a bit of blood trickling out.

The landlord doesn’t even look at me, opting instead to scroll on his phone. “And?”

“It's a safety hazard,” I manage to say through gritted teeth.

He shrugs. “Not my problem. I live in the basement.”

This motherfucker-

“If it bothers you that much, go fix it yourself,” his game jingles happily, and he sneers. “Not that you can.”

Once my skin clears up, I lose 10 pounds, fix those damn stairs, finish my homework, learn how to properly do eyeshadow, comb my hair and become mentally stable, it's over for this bastard.

Until then, he can go fuck himself on the broken pieces of wood that was the stairs while I actually do something about it.

One rage building session later, I’ve replaced all the stairs to the first floor.

I lay on the ground next to my new stairs, which still need to dry from the paint, properly zonked. Hyper-focusing it great to do things, but fuck, the exhaustion finally catches up to me, my body sore. Swallowing feels like sandpaper is trying to go down and my stomach growls angrily at me for forgetting its existence.

Two familiar faces appear in my view: my neighbor from the first night and Anna.

“What are you doing?” Anna asks. She’s in the exact same doll clothes as before, her blush still overwhelming her face, but at least she blinks at me now. Even if it does seem awkwardly forced.

“Laying on the ground,” I croak out.

“You sound thirsty,” she states. I nod. “Want me to get you water?”

“Please do,” I force a smile and Anna disappears from my sight. Weirdly, I don’t hear her footsteps. Must be one of those creepy kid things.

Well, it's just me and the neighbor from the first night.

“Would you like assistance in sitting up?” he asks with a smile. I nod and soon I’m sitting upright.

“Whew,” I hold my head, feeling the blood rush down. There’s a puff of heat on my neck, then… cold water splashes onto me.

“MOTHERFUuuuuuuuuudger. Fudger,” I manage to withhold from cussing, again, as I look up and see Anna with an empty glass, her arm through the railings.

“Bad, Nikolas,” she puffs. “Don’t touch the quiet door lady.”

I might have been splashed, but my neighbor, Nikolas, is soaked, his hooked nose and black hair dripping with water. He grimaces, but dries his face with a white handkerchief.

“He was just helping me up, Anna,” I try to reassure her, giving her a smile. Hey, at least she likes me. I’ll take my good neighbor points where I can. “I’m okay.”

“Yes, she’s quite fine,” Nikolas grumbles, and he glares at Anna. Which, uh, excuse me, is not a look to give a child. But it seems like this is a normal interaction for them, as she only further narrows her eyes at him.

All the outdoor lights flicker and I glance around. Are the shadows on the walls growing? Does the building seem… taller? A shiver runs down my spine and the hairs on the back of my neck shoot up. What the fuck? Man, I must be tired.

Nikolas sighs and lifts both his hands in a surrender position. “Message received, Anna.”

All of a sudden, everything is normal again. Anna nods and turns around, and I hear her steps this time as she walks away.

Now I level a look at Nikolas. “Don’t pick fights with kids, man. Not cool.”

He looks at me wide eyed, with one brow higher than the other. “Pardon?”

“You gave Anna a nasty glare there,” I shake my head. “That’s not cool, man. She’s just a kid. It's a lot better to explain to her why dumping water is unacceptable than glare and go quiet. Even with children, communication is key.”

His mouth opens slightly and he narrows his eyes as if trying to examine me closer. Then he shakes his head. “Fine.”

I nod. “Good.” There’s a short pause. “Hey, does the electricity falter like that often?”

“What?”

“Do the light flicker like that often? If it was just one of them, I’d think the bulb was dying but since it was all of them, there might be a problem with the building’s wiring,” I explain.

Nikolas looks like I just asked him if he had a foot fetish: thoroughly confused, disappointed and questioning his existence. “... What?”

Just as I’m about to ask him for the third time, Anna's voice suddenly comes from behind me. “Water.”

I jump slightly, but gratefully take the glass. “Thanks, kiddo.” I smile and ruffle her curly hair, which feels strangely like yarn. Huh, that’s cool. I wonder if that’s natural or not.

I down the water in and feel instantly refreshed, then I hand her the glass. “That hit the spot.”

Anna nods then parts her lips to show all of her teeth. Creepy, but I think that’s her attempt at a smile so I try not to flinch.

“Well,” I stand dusting sawdust off myself. “I think I should get some food and some rest.”

“What about your wound?” Nikolas says as he also stands.

“My what? Oh.” Right! The cut on my leg from when the stair broke earlier. It suddenly stings again, as if offended I forgot about it.

“It's fine. Just a scratch,” I laugh it off. I wonder how he knew I was injured? I have long pants on, so he couldn’t see it. Maybe my pant leg rolled up while I laid down. “I gotta put the tools back in the shed, but I’ll go straight home to clean it up afterwards.”

Nikolas and Anna both nod, Anna still showing all her teeth. He says something quietly to her, and the corners of her mouth lift into a proper -though slightly forced- smile.

But did I step on glass or something? It sounded like something cracked.

With nothing underneath my foot, I chalk it up to my overactive imagination and put the tools back in the shed. Once I leave, the stars are out and both Anna and Nikolas are gone. I head over to the stairs and I’m about to step on them, when I remember they still need to dry. Fuuuuuuuck.

I order Chinese delivery instead and eat on the ground next to the stairs. Once I’m done, I test the paint with my finger. Satisfied that it's dried, I go back to my apartment, shower and head to sleep in my bed for the first time.

As I drift off, I wonder how Anna and Nikolas got up and down the stairs without messing up the paint? Anna probably did creepy child magic or something and I imagine Nikolas parkouring up in his black suit, causing me to chuckle.

…

I was hoping to sleep in since I didn’t have class today, but a knock at my door wakes me from my slumber.

“Just five more minutes,” I groan. The knocking pauses, but comes back after a bit. Somehow, I drag myself out of the warm, soft, perfect bed and make my way to the front door, opening it a crack. “Yes?”

Nikolas stands there, under an umbrella for some reason, with his brow furrowed. He looks sunburnt, which might explain the umbrella. “You fix things, correct?”

“I mean, I guess?” Man, I should really start being paid for this. I’m too poor for free labor.

“Well,” he grimaces. “My roof has a hole.”

My eyes go wide and I stand taller. “Your roof has a what?”

“There is a hole in the roof, in my apartment,” he explains. “I tried to call the landlord, but…”

An annoyed sigh escapes me. “He said figure it out?”

Nikolas shakes his head. “No. He said he would get it fixed.”

“Well, that’s a new one,” I smirk. Damn bastard is finally doing his job.

“Yes, but,” Nikolas glares behind us, as if the landlord was there. “He said it could take several weeks.”

“WEEKS!?” I might have just woken someone else up with how loud I yelled.

Nikolas cringes but nods. “Yes, weeks.”

“It's about to be winter.”

“Yes.”

“There will be snow. And rain.”

“I’m aware.”

“And he can’t be bothered to fix it sooner?” I fume. Now that’s just fucked up. “I should report his ass to the police-”

“No!” Nikolas says quickly, and I blink. “He’s, uh,” Niklolas pauses and his eyes dart around, as if searching for words. “... A family friend? So, I don’t want to report him. I just want the problem fixed.”

There is a long pause. Oh, shit, I’m supposed to answer.

“Okay… I’ll try to fix your roof, but I need you to promise something.”

Nikolas frowns. “... Go on.”

“Be nicer to Anna,” I say simply.

He studies me for a moment then nods. “I can do that.”

I turn to go get changed, then face him again. “One more thing.”

“Yes?”

“Please pay for the materials. I’m so poor, man. I have $34.28 cents in my bank account, right now.”

He laughs. And I mean really laughs. Which, kind of rude to laugh at how poor I am, but I did say it in a half-joking way, so he can get a pass (I really do only have $34.28 though, so please buy the materials, Nikolas).

“That,” he chuckles. “I can do.”

A trip to the hardware store, a ladder, a shingle or two to Nikolas’ knee, and a saw later, the hole is patched. It's not perfect, but it's good enough until a proper roofer can come and fix it. I climb down the ladder and dust my hands.

“The hole appeared because the wood rotted. The shingles above the hole were missing, which explains how the water got there,” I explain to Nikolas. “So I cut out the rotten parts, created a frame, added new plywood, tar paper and shingles, and badabing, badaboom, it's done. And it only took me…” I look at my watch and sigh. “5 hours.”

Man, my time perception is absolutely fucked. I thought it had only been 2, maybe 3 hours.

Nikolas, who’s been under his umbrella while inside as well, exhales, his shoulders relaxing. “Much appreciated. Your handiwork is to be admired.”

My cheeks heat up at the compliment and I look away to hide my smile. “Aww, shucks. Well, thank you.”

“My dear, it is my pleasure,” he smiles, and I notice -like Diego- Nikolas also has pointy canine teeth, however, his are longer and more narrow than Diego’s. “Now, I can handle the clean up, you get some rest.”

He escorts me to his front door and as I’m about to leave, he asks me to wait, then pulls out a wad of cash, bound by those little strips of paper, and hands it to me. “For your hard work.”

“What?” I look at the money incredulously. “I can’t accept this.” Gosh that money looks good. If I take it, I could probably afford rent this month. Maybe even next month too! It's very tempting...

I shake my head, my inner self crying. “No need. You already paid for the materials. I was happy to help.” I can already see me groveling to my father for cash.

“I insist,” Nikolas says as takes my hand and places the money in it. “You’ve greatly helped me today. The first floor stairs have also never looked better.”

“Thank you,” I smile and tell myself not to spend it on video games. “I really appreciate it.”

We bid farewell, and when I get to my apartment, I count the cash. $100… $200… $300… $400… $500, oh my fucking gosh, its still going. $600… $700… $800. The final amount is $800.

Bro that’s enough for 2 months rent and then some! I can afford something other than noodles! I could buy meat.

You move into a suspiciously low rent apartment, that’s in some disrepair but not enough to account for the price. It turns out the other occupants are all evil supernatural beings. They set out to torment you, but then discover that you have done more to repair the building than the landlords.

[kirascottage]

hey! could you write a fluff fic of lip gallagher x reader? maybe something where he’s protective? love your writing! - nina <3

always choosing you

lip gallagher x f. reader

summary: lip saves you while at a party.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: soft and protective lip all in one, swearing, alcohol, mentions of trauma, non-consensual touching (just the waist), mentions of violence, kissing, mentions of sex (1x)

join my taglist here !

“Babe, this tastes disgusting.” You scowled while referring to the red solo cup in your hand. At your distasteful words, Lip’s head had whipped over to your twisted face, studying your wry grimace then looking at the poorly made drink most likely whipped up by a Sophomore that had no idea how to mix alcohol.

“Here, take mine.” Without a second thought, he quickly swapped the drink in your hand with his own, Vodka Cranberry. The drink he voluntarily handed you was a translucent shade of dull red and it fizzed at the top. Taking a sip, your brow arched in a consensus of the pleasant-tasting beverage.

To a family like the Gallagher’s, it was portrayed as a psychedelic for Lip Gallagher to be seen as a caring individual rather than a belligerent boy without any anger control. (especially to someone like Fiona) His emotional trauma merely enabling him to hide his concealed emotions from others, but like any other person, it took tremendous work that you were willing to put in.

“Hey, you wanna go soon?” His eyes naturally drifted around the party as he questioned you with a gentle hand sitting comfortably at your waist, his thumb moving slowly over the material of your shirt. “Sure, lower-class man parties are always a bummer.” You mutually agreed, glimpsing as to how his eyes travel across the room to a familiar redhead.

“I’m gonna go tell Ian, you good here?” His thumb pointed in a backwards direction as he walked the same way, you nodded in approval before he was off with his shoes tapping in sync to the music as he proceeded to the Kitchen while you stood in the living room against a wall.

It wasn’t usual for Lip to willingly leave you alone, especially in social situations like this one with intoxicated teenagers at your every corner. He once claimed a wannabe Tristan Dugray from Gilmore Girls would sweep you off your feet and carry you off to the sunset but you declared that would be spurious.

You picked at your nails for the first few minutes, growing bored as you waited, your fingers following the curvature of the cup along with the slight indentations and lines as your patience grew thin. Most likely Ian was stuck in a conversation with long-haired Milkovich, and he wouldn’t wanna leave just yet, his usual stall techniques including whining to his eldest brother.

Your evident impatience had swallowed you whole, eventually abandoning the remains of the drink at a battered table so your arms could cross in front of your chest and your foot tapped insanely quick against the floor. Now that tapping would've bothered anyone as the music vibrated through the drywall and the neighbours were nearing annoyance with the deliberation of filing a noise complaint.

As you were just about to set off to the kitchen, slender fingers gripped at your belt loops hauling you closer to the point your rear had struck the male stranger's chest.

“Hey! What the fu—“

“What’re you doing here all alone?” You attempted to harshly to move away at the poor tone of male seduction but the firm grip on your denim loops was restricting you from such.

“You see, I'm not alone so if you’d—“ You gestured impatiently to his hand with a curt glint in your tone whilst looking back at him; but, he cut you off with a brisk ‘S’alright, baby. I’ll take care of you.’ And no intention of letting you go.

You huffed with a squirm as his disengaged hand grasped at your waist where the emptiness of Lip’s hand had formerly been. “I have a fucking boyfriend—“ You inevitably began to yell over the music at the boy you could recognize as Clint Eastwood from your English class with a drunken smirk plastered onto his features.

This time it wasn’t his slurred voice cutting you off once again, it was a familiar rage-ridden Gallagher. “Get your hands off my fucking girlfriend.” Lip’s baritone became hoarser by the word as his hands hastily gripped at the boy's collared shirt whilst you stumbled by Ian who had briskly caught your arm hoisting you upright.

“Sorry! Dude, I didn’t know she—“

“Really? I clearly fucking heard her say she had a boyfriend,” His scowling brows drew together tightly and his lips pursed at the boy's face trembling in justified fear; as the scene grew larger with frequent yells occurring from Lip, most attendees of the party queued in on the scene.

“I guess idiots like you don’t know how to take a fucking hint.” Lip would’ve severely beaten his face in till Clint was due a trip to the ER but your magnifying grip at the back of his torso was enough to subdue his nerves and release the male off to the side and make his way to the car while gripping your hand the silent way there as the music grew fainter.

The car ride was silent, Lip’s hands gripped the wheel hard enough for distinctive marks to melt into the leather of the disk-shaped circle. He was well indeed sober, the only drink he had consumed was the one he had given to you and mostly full when it came into your possession.

When the car paused in the Gallagher driveway, wordlessly, Ian had left the car to give the both of you a moment, cautiously entering the chaotic household where most of his siblings had been asleep; Fiona being the only one awake where she had been watching a movie with V as Debbie laid on her lap. Yet, Lip hadn’t even moved his hands from the ignition; he had barely even blinked or twitched.

“Lip,” Your voice whispered, filling in the empty void of the vehicle. He silently looked over with his head slumped against the head seat, “What’s wrong?” Another whisper, your fingers rested comfortably on his knee.

“I just—“ He sighed, “—I don’t like the way he was touching you. Nobody should touch you like that.” He paused thoughtfully amid his heated sentence, clearly hesitant. Though, you remained silent as you were taciturnly aware that he was nowhere near finished.

“What if he wasn’t a creep and it was some guy that could offer you so much better than I could. I don’t want you to get hurt, but I also don’t want to hurt you.” His cerulean optics drifted over to his knee where you had been drawing circles over the denim, his anxious eyes remaining focused before you spoke up and his attention had diverted back to you.

“So don’t.” You offered a faint smile, “You’re not your parents, Lip. Take it one day at a time, if you don’t want to hurt me then you’re not going to.” You shook your head as you spoke.

“You could’ve knocked that guy into oblivion but you didn’t, and I know why you didn’t. I’m not gonna push you; Just take it day by day with me, okay?” He lethargically nodded in response, drinking in your words slowly as they enveloped his brain in a tight squeeze. Your monologue clinging to his mind as he would require those words later on.

Silently, you drifted your eyes back to the house, your eyes retaining on the Gallagher residence as he spoke. “Stay the night?”

You returned your head back to him and grinned in response, pecking his lips a few times before hopping out of the car as he followed. Trudging towards the wrought gate as he gripped at your hand, gently leading you through his house but pausing once to wave at Fiona which she reciprocated with a gleeful nod and a wave.

You had thought you entered his shared room rather quietly, changing into a shrunken pair of basketball shorts and a navy blue sweater both of which had belonged to your boyfriend. As you climbed the bunk, an adolescent boy had begun speaking with sleep lacing his words, “You better not be having sex, I'm trying to sleep.” Carl finished with a snore as he shuffled.

You both hastily muffled your laughs whilst cautiously climbing into the top bunk where his sheets laid messily due to him not making his bed the morning prior. You took very little time situating yourselves, the tip of your chin laying on his shoulder, and you were laid on your stomach. Meanwhile, his arm curled around your back and his stomach had faced the texturized ceiling.

You both laid there silently for a few minutes, maybe even a half-hour. Most likely Ian had passed out on the couch, and Carl’s snores had filled the room so it was a guarantee that it was safe to speak without any eavesdropping.

“I’ll always choose you.”

For a moment you thought he was asleep as well by how still he remained, till his face had carefully turned millimeters from yours. “I don’t care if it’s an Italian mafia man or some belligerent idiot from English class. I’ll always choose you, Philip Gallagher.” You muttered into his shoulder, a tinge of minor embarrassment creeping stealthily up your neck at the sappy confession.

“I’ll always choose you, too.” He whispered back, he wasn’t much for words but he could always muster up a considerable fraction of what you meant to him. Kissing the tip of your nose, he whispered again whilst placing his chin on your forehead. “Now go to sleep, or you’ll be bitchy in the morning.”

taglist: @miiamour @bugswrld @zzzfour @black-rose-29 @sprucewoodlover @bloodyrockwork @myalupinblack

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Heart-Shaped Box💟9/End

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), forced pregnancy, some violence, intimidation, some elements untagged for sake of plot.

This is dark!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Sister Series: Get Your Fix

Summary: You accept a job as an au pair, but not all is as it seems.

Note: Finally finishing this one up. Sorry it took me ages but I’m doing my best to go back and wrap up whatever I can.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Masterlist

Bucky pulled out of you as he held your head down, bouncing the bed beneath you as he pushed himself onto his back. You panted as your sweat dampened the sheet beneath you and he leaked between your thighs. You winced as you rolled onto your side and slowly sat up. 

He had you whining loud enough that you had no doubt your guests heard it all. It only seemed to encourage his partner-in-crime as you soon heard a similar scene on the other side of the wall. You were sickened by that noise and stood warily as you cupped your hand over your cunt and scooped up his cum before it could drip onto the floor.

“I told you to keep it down,” he snickered and sat up, his muscled back to you as he stretched his arms above him, “get the shower started, I’ll be in shortly. You girls have a lot of work to do today.”

You grumbled and dragged your feet to the attached bathroom. The low buzz of the pipes filled the silence and you stepped under the steamy water. The moment of calm broke sharply as Bucky appeared from the other side of the curtain and stepped in behind you. He had you clean him with a lathered loofah and you bore it only for the eventuality of time away from him.

The other woman meant you wouldn’t be trapped with just him. It was little help or hope but it was better than your former solitary torture.

You dressed in black dress with daisies and made yourself look like his perfect housewife. You couldn’t hold the smile and make him believe it all the way but he wouldn’t anyway. He flicked your chin and clicked his tongue.

“Mmm, you’re getting there,” he mused as he dropped his hand and reached around to slap your ass, “better go get breakfast on. I’ll check in on our guests.” He squeezed and winked, “be a good girl.”

Those words made your insides curdled but you swallowed your disgust and nodded, “yes, sir.”

He stepped out behind you and watched you go down the hall to the stairs and you heard him knock on the door as you descended. You went to the kitchen and pulled out the frying pan and the coconut oil. You lined up the ingredients for crepes on the counter and took two bananas from the yellow bunch. Your mother used to make the oversweet delicacy and you needed a reminder that you were still that girl.

You stopped as you searched for something to keep the crepes warm after you assembled them, a lid that could fit over the plate or something akin to it. The lower cupboards you rarely opened. Bucky left the cleaning supplies on the counter with your chore list every day and you never bothered to look for anything else.

You stopped and stared at the drain cleaner and the can of toxic oven spray. Well, that wouldn’t be subtle enough, would it? They’d smell either of those a mile away. Anything under the counter would be easily discovered but it did give you an idea.

You closed the wooden door and went back to your task. You heard the voices in the next room and the scrape of the chairs on the floor. Steve’s girl appeared in the doorway, rubbing her stomach as her face contorted.

“Smells sweet,” she said as you simmered the bananas with brown sugar, cinnamon, and a little butter, “almost too sweet.”

“Morning sickness?” you asked innocently.

“All the time sickness,” she sighed, “anything I can help with?”

“Do you know how to make crepes?” you asked as you whisked the batter.

“Not really,” she shrugged, “but I can learn.”

“It’s easy. Takes less than a minute,” you waved her over and tested the temperature of the pan with a flick of water, “so you wanna put just a little batter in…” you ladled in a careful dollop and lifted the pan, “you spread it like this,” you tilted it so the batter spread all around, “you just use the spatula a little on the edges to make sure they don’t stick and you flip.”

It was like second nature and she nodded quietly as she watched. The crepe cooked quickly and you threw it onto a plate and put the pan back to the burner.

“You think you can handle that?” you covered the plate with the lid of a pat to keep it warm. “Then we put some of the bananas and wrap them, bit of cream on top and some icing sugar…”

“You like to cook?” she wondered as she added batter to the hot pan.

“Not particularly, but my mother taught me,” you shrugged, “she can cook anything.”

“Oh,” she flipped the crepe and glanced at the door, “I suppose… it keeps him happy.”

“He’s never happy,” you murmured and cleared your throat, “so, you must be excited to move in!”

“I guess,” she slid the crepe onto the plate as you lifted the foggy lid, “you know how it is.”

You smiled and she tilted her head as she squinted at you. You went to the drawer where there was a box of blank recipe cards and continued speaking as you fished out a pencil from another.

“It’s always nice to get settled,” you said as you wrote, ‘they can hear us’.

“I suppose, nice to be in one place,” she replied stiffly as her features relaxed.

‘I have a plan,’ you wrote and raised your voice just slightly, “oh, you know, we didn’t even get you a housewarming gift. I’ll have to remind James.”

You went to the burner and held out the card under the coil until it caught. You threw it into the sink and watched it burn and curl. You ran water over it as it turned to ash and washed it away. You nudged the bowl towards her and leaned on the counter, “need help with that?”

“No,” she said as she started again, “I’m getting the hang of it.”

💟

You looked around the front room of the house next door. Steve’s girl opened one of the stacked boxes. For once, the men were gone and you could just enjoy their absence. 

Bucky agreed that a gift was in order and Steve had mentioned wanting to explore their new hometown. You tried not to seem eager but even the small walk across the lawns enlivened you. How long had it been since you’d been outside?

You started with the pictures. You left the frames in a stack as she assured you Steve would put the nails in and hang them. Then you moved onto the kitchenware and you kept her from lifting the heavy box of dishes. She seemed to forget about her condition and the reminder made her frown.

You stood behind the counter and set the dishes in the cupboards one at a time, the plates clacking one on top of each other. She watched from the other side as she arranged the silverware in the plastic tray.

“Can you do me a favour?” you asked as you kept on.

“What?” she asked as she dropped a butter knife with the rest.

“I know they’ve locked us in but can you check the garage door? Can we get in there?” you asked evenly.

“What?” she blinked and pushed herself straight, “even if we can, they won’t have been stupid enough--”

“That’s not what I’m worried about. I know we can’t get out that way either. It’s the same at our house. Everything is bolted up tight.” You assured her, “just go and check while I get these sorted.”

She left you and you snapped shut the door and finished with the utensils. You slid the tray into the drawer as she returned, rubbing her stomach.

“Yeah, we can get in but it’s mostly empty,” she said, “so…”

“Mostly empty?”

“Yeah, just the car--”

“The car,” you rounded the counter and curled two fingers for her to follow you.

You headed for the plain white door that led to the garage. You hopped down the steps as she remained at the top and watched you tentatively. You went to the car as she crossed her arms.

“He took the keys,” she said.

You tried the handle and the door opened. “I know,” you said as you put a knee in the front seat and peered into the back. Nothing. 

You felt around under the dash and found the lever for the trunk. You pulled it and it popped. You shut the door and went around the back of the car. You felt around the spare tire and your hand felt something plastic. You grabbed the handle of the half-filled jug and pulled it out.

“Hey,” you held up the bright blue anti-freeze, “do you wanna cook dinner here tonight? A housewarming dinner?”

Her brows knitted and she gave a long blink. Her lips parted then curved.

“You can’t mean--” she let out a scoff.

“It’s sweet. Hopefully they won’t notice if I add enough sugar to the cake,” you breathed, “we can’t let them settle. This is our chance.”

“I don’t-- I don’t know. What if it doesn’t work?”

“Then we’re still in the same boat,” you turned your free hand out, “that man has drugged me for months. I think it’s only fair that he gets a taste of his own medicine.”

She swallowed and looked down at her stomach. She inhaled and cradled her bump. “It can’t get worse than this, can it?”

💟

You spent the day unpacking, the distraction not much of one as you thought of the bottle you hid at the back of the cupboard. By the time the men returned, you were ready to move onto the second floor. 

Bucky offered a bottle of non-alcoholic wine and basket of expensive macarons as your gift to your new neighbours. He forced a kiss from you before he let you follow Steve’s girl upstairs.

You sat in the bedroom and heard the men ascend shortly after. You peeked in on them as you opened the linen closet to shove in the spare sheets. They were hammering together a crib. You knocked lightly on the doorframe as you watched them.

“Huh, what’s going on?” Bucky looked up from the directions.

“Um, we were just… thinking, we could have dinner here tonight? A little housewarmer? I could grab some ingredients from ours--”

“Give me a list, I’ll grab it,” Bucky puffed as he bent to help hold the rail in place for Steve, “that sound okay?”

“Fine by me,” Steve smiled, “it’ll be nice to have our feet on solid ground.”

You left them and returned to your only ally as she sat on the bed and stared at a packet of pills. She crushed it in her grasp and huffed. She flicked away tears with her knuckles. She tossed them over her shoulder.

“He kept them,” she snarled, “it’s like he’s mocking me.”

“What?” you neared her and sat carefully beside her.

“I never… I worked with him, you know? He brought me these drinks and I didn’t realise he was dosing them. The stuff, it made me itchy… it made me so hot and I just needed anything. I hopped on him I was so desperate and-- I told him to stay away. I realised what he’d done and I told him to leave me alone and you know what he did,” she crossed her arms over her stomach.

“No, I--” you touched her elbow.

“He broke into my apartment and replaced my pills. And he didn’t leave me alone,” she spat, “he did this all and he still has the goddamn pills like they’re some sort of trophy.”

She hung her head and grunted in frustration. You leaned against her and put your arm over her shoulders. She let you and the tension drained from her body.

“Even if we get out…” she whispered, “I’ll always have this piece of him.”

She pressed her palms to her stomach and you frowned. There was nothing you could do or say. You’d been lucky so far, even if it only fed your suffering. You didn’t have another life to worry about.

“We don’t have to if--”

“I want to,” she hissed lowly, “I want him dead.”

💟

Usually, you tasted the icing and licked the spoon. Not that night. The blue shade of the frosting was anything but suspicious as you spread it over the fluffy cake. It was a perfect disguise. You topped it with blueberries to add to the theme and dusted on a few coloured sprinkles. You stood back and admired your work as the smell of garlic filled the kitchen.

“I know it’s not much,” Steve’s girl said as she stirred the sauce, “but it’s what I can manage.”

“I’m sure it’s great,” you said as you took the meatballs of the burner and tested the spaghetti, “noodles are perfect.”

You strained the pasta and helped pour the meatballs into the sauce. You mixed it up and poured it into a large glass dish and the noodles into another. You brought them out to the table and called the men to dinner before you fetched the wine, both alcoholic and not.

Steve’s girl sat as you poured a glass for each of you and the men sat. You set the bottle down and nestled in next to Bucky as he served himself. When the plates were full, the other woman nudged Steve and whispered in his ear.

He cleared his throat and stood, “um, I know it’s just us but I guess I should say thank you for all the help and we’re excited to be neighbours… can’t wait for the kids to be running around these halls together.”

“Mmm,” Bucky lifted his glass, “hopefully…” he muttered doubtfully and looked at you, “that better be what she’s having,” he nodded to your glass.

You held it out for him to sniff and he gave you a sour look. He tutted and sat back to twirl noodles around his fork as he set aside his glass. You took a sip of the gutless wine and speared a meatball on your tines. You chewed and looked at Steve’s girl. She let Steve rub her thigh under the table and forced a smile.

She was playing it well and you felt as if you would fall apart. You felt as if Bucky would see right through you the minute you walked in with the cake. What would he do then? Steve couldn’t hurt his girl, she had the baby, but you, Bucky could replace you still. Maybe that was for the best but it didn’t mean you weren’t scared shitless.

You cleared the plates and retreated to the kitchen. Just you. You’d gone over it, you didn’t want them to catch on. You didn’t get too close with them around, you acted like strangers, you really were after all.

You sliced the cake into careful portions and came out with two plates at a time. You put them in front of each chair and sat. As you did, Steve’s girl covered her mouth and gagged. She pushed herself up unsteadily.

“Honey?” Steve asked as he rubbed her lower back.

“It’s the baby I--” she gulped sickeningly, “I gotta--”

She rushed out and Steve gave a look, “nausea. It’s been like this for weeks.”

“I’m going to make sure she’s okay,” you stood, “go ahead and start without us.”

You went down the hall and as you neared the bathroom, Steve’s girl opened the door and pulled you inside. She looked genuinely sick and you smelled vomit on her breath. She turned and rinsed her mouth and shuddered. 

“I didn’t actually feel sick until I got in here,” she wiped her face with the hand cloth, “when I realised--”

“Everything’s in the trunk,” you assured her, “once they’re out, we get the keys and go.”

“How do we know--”

“Retch,” you hissed, “we wait until we’re sure.”

She gave an exaggerated hurl and you heard the clink of porcelain and silver and the drone of voices. You listened through the door as she watched you in the tight space of the half-bath.

“I’m thinking about getting her an… exam,” Bucky’s deep tone carried, “maybe she can’t…”

You let out the breath you were holding and closed your eyes. Just a little longer. 

When you heard a sudden lull, your eyes rounded and you turned the handle and let yourself out into the hall. She crept close behind as you peered through the open archway. Both men had their faces on their plates in the crumbs of vanilla cake and smears of blue icing.

“Let’s go,” you went to Steve and shoved your hand into his pocket, “shit, they’re not here.”

“Here!” she pulled her hand from his jacket hung on the rack, “you think they’re dead?”

You looked from one to the other and shakily felt along Steve’s neck. “Still a pulse. I think maybe… they’re only knocked out.”

“The serum,” she shook her head, “means we have to go quick.”

You hurried after her and followed her down into the garage. She climbed into the driver’s seat and moved it back as her stomach pressed to the wheel. You got in the other side as your body trembled with adrenaline. She hit the button attached to the keys and the door slowly raised behind her.

As she reversed, you felt a sudden shock around your neck and yiped. You’d forgotten entirely about the necklace. She stopped suddenly and watched you writhe in agony.

“Shit, shit,” you leaned forward until the shock stopped, “the necklace.”

“Fuck,” she reached for it and you batted her away.

“No, you’ll get zapped,” you gasped as you pulled on it desperately. It was too tight to get past your chin but too strong to snap. 

She took the keys out and tossed them in your lap. You lifted them and twisted the necklace around the house key but there was no give. You sobbed and dropped your hand.

“I can’t,” you looked at the bent key, “you gotta go without me.”

“What? No, I can’t--”

“You have a baby,” you said as tears burned in your eyes and your throat tightened, “go, please.” You dropped the keys on the dash and opened the door. “I can’t--”

“No, you have to come with me,” she begged.

“No, you have to go before they wake up,” you got out as you grasped your neck, the searing pain still hot on your flesh, “I’ll… I’ll survive. I have this far.”

“N--”

“Shut up!” you slammed the door and hit the hood, “go!”

She stared at you and her lip quivered. She gave you one last sad look and grabbed the keys. She sniffed as she gripped the wheel and backed out down the drive. 

You fell to your knees and sat back on your ass as you watched her drive away. You shook your head and held it in your hands as you sat behind the invisible wall of your prison.

The tires screamed at the end of the street and the noise of the engine faded into the distance. You laid on your back across the concrete and covered your face with your arm. At least you could live with knowing you got her out. Well, you couldn’t really say you’d be living. You’d be alive but little more than that. 

But you’d survive knowing that you kept one person from that pitiful fate. Even if it wasn’t you. Even if you knew that you would pay for it in the end. Even when those men woke up and found you laying in the garage, the sweet flavour of antifreeze on their tongues as the bile of their anger overflowed and drowned you. 

You couldn’t do anything but wait. If you were lucky, they might just kill you and that in itself would be freedom.

💟 💟 💟

END

[fruitcoops]

Could we please have a prequel to the praise kink fic? Because i really want to know why were Sirius and Remus not together and what did Remus send him. I really need context

I was hoping somebody would ask for this!! The aforementioned fic is here for any curious souls (18+ please) and SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for spicy texts (not exactly nudes), and smutty feelings with nothing explicit

The bus went over a bump and Sirius winced as his shins knocked against the back of the seat in front of him, connecting with the metal brace inside. “Fuck.”

“You sure you don’t want to switch?” James asked next to him. Sirius glanced down at the veritable wall of gear and empty snack bags between them, then back to James in disbelief. He shrugged, then set his headphones back over his ears. “Worth a shot.”

“Merde,” Sirius hissed as a pothole nearly took off his kneecap. He gritted his teeth and readjusted, drawing his legs closer to his chest. I want to be home, he thought, allowing himself an internal moment to whine.

He checked his phone—not even ten in the morning. It was a Saturday, so Remus would probably just be rolling out of bed, still sleepy and soft with his hair sticking up like a disgruntled cat’s. Sirius sighed heavily and stared out the window at the small town rolling past in the distance; there was little he wouldn’t give to be back with him instead of on the way to a full week of conferences.

“Why did we have to win the Cup?” he grumbled.

James lifted one side of his headphones. “What?”

“Nothing.”

It wasn’t like they had had much time to themselves before that, either—Sirius’ schedule was packed with interviews that felt more like interrogations, and Remus had been running the PT department mostly by himself while Moody took a well-deserved vacation. They were dead on their feet every night, worked to the bone with little energy left to do more than cuddle and fall asleep. Still, Sirius was grateful for every second of it.

He waited ten more minutes before giving in.

New Message To: Re

Bonjour mon loup <3

There was no immediate response, which made sense, though he was a little bit disappointed. Sirius closed his eyes and tried to make himself relax; it would be at least another six hours before they arrived at their destination, and the bad weather gathering overhead didn’t bode well for quick travel.

His phone buzzed gently and he scrambled to answer. Don’t be Reg, don’t be Reg, don’t be Reg—

New Message From: Re

Morning love!

Thanks for the bagels <3

“Fuck yes,” Sirius said under his breath. The bagels had been a last-minute decision as he crept through the house in the early hours of the morning after carefully detaching himself from Remus with a final half-asleep farewell kiss. There was no guarantee he would remember breakfast with everything going on, so Sirius figured it was a safe bet to toast them and leave them on the countertop before heading out.

Message To: Re

Pas de problem

Sleep well?

Message From: Re

Decent

Missed you :(

Sirius rested his temple against the cold window with a soft sound. He hated leaving at different times, but that was just how their life worked at the moment.

Message To: Re

Missed you too <3

Three small dots appeared for a long moment before vanishing without a trace just as his heart rate began picking up. Where’d you go? he almost wondered aloud. Something bumped his arm and James raised a quizzical brow. “Loops,” Sirius said by way of explanation.

“I figured. He okay?”

“I think so? He just…disappeared on me.” Sirius was well-aware of how plaintive he sounded—James’ teasing smile was completely unnecessary.

“Aw, Cap,” he laughed, reaching over to mess with his beanie until Sirius slapped his hand away. “It’s alright, buddy, it’s just a couple days.”

Sirius jammed his hat back on his head and flicked James on the unprotected bit of his ear, making him yelp. “Fuck off, I know you’ll be a mess as soon as Lily FaceTimes with my godson.”

“He has a name, you know.”

“Sorry. You’ll be a mess as soon as she FaceTimes with Pocket Pots, who happens to be my godson.”

James rolled his eyes. “I regret giving you that title.”

“Nah, you don’t.”

As if on cue, his phone lit up again; Sirius ignored James’ snickering as he quickly unlocked it.

New Message From: Re

When will you be at the hotel?

“That’s it?” he muttered.

Message To: Re

That was a lot of typing for one sentence

6-7 hrs, if the weather holds

Why?

Message From: Re

Sorry lmao Reg came in for a bit

Just curious :) Keep me updated?

Message To: Re

Will do <3

Tell Reg he needs to wash his sheets. It’s been over a month.

A small thumbs-up emoji was his only answer, and he tried not to be too bummed. Remus liked having things to do; sitting there and texting Sirius while he slowly got further and further away was probably not his preferred way to spend a morning. With a sigh that was likely a bit too dramatic for the situation he was in, Sirius faced the window once more and buckled in for a long ride.

He chatted off and on with the others when they stopped for lunch, but everyone was exhausted from the combination of a packed week and an early morning. Even Talker stayed fairly quiet, and James kept his headphones on for most of the trip.

Sirius finally succumbed to his tiredness and put some music on, then dozed for an hour or three while they traveled through yet another field. A few halfhearted calls of “cows” made their way around the bus, though nobody seemed particularly enthused about being packed in with double the gear due to a broken storage compartment. Donuts and gas station coffee could only do so much.

“Just crossed the state border,” Arthur called from the front of the bus as Sirius tried to ignore the cramping in his thighs. Three hours. Just three more.

His music was interrupted by a soft jingle alert and he pulled his phone out, hoping against hope that Regulus hadn’t caused a fire anywhere. It was unlikely given the…well, everything about him, but with Sirius’ luck it could happen.

New Message From: Re

How far?

Message To: Re

About 3 hrs. Ran into some detours

Good day?

Remus remained silent on the other end and Sirius frowned. That was rather rude, and highly unusual. Between the two of them, Remus was the one who kept conversations going past the initial question to be answered.

Message From: Re

Attachment: 1 Image

Love you! Call me when you get there : )

Sirius opened the attachment and almost threw his phone in utter shock. Skin. Bare skin everywhere, its smooth edges broken up only by tight black fabric that may as well have been painted onto the curve of Remus’ ass. “Oh my god,” he whimpered, voice barely audible even to his own ears. It had been taken in their bedroom mirror; Remus looked over his shoulder, and Sirius caught the corner of a devious smirk on his lips. “Oh, you fucker.”

Message From: Re

Thoughts? They’re cozy

Message To: Re

Did you miss the part where I said three (3) hours

Message From: Re

Nope

Second one is a guessing game and u get a prize if u get it right : )

The second photograph was more zoomed-in than the first and Sirius wracked his brain, running through his mental catalogue of Remus’ body to figure out the answer. It did absolutely nothing to calm the situation in his pants.

He had no idea what the promised prize was, but anticipation made his hands shake slightly as he carefully scanned the picture. The shadows caught it at an odd angle—it wasn’t the steady slopes of his face or neck, nor was it the strong curve of a shoulder. Not enough freckles, either, he thought.

A lightbulb lit in the back of his mind.

Message To: Re

Right hip

Another thought connected half a second later.

Holy fuck you took them off

Is that my prize?

Re?

Remus Lupin I swear to god

TEXT ME BACK

Message From: Re

Bingo!

Christ you’re impatient, I was gone for like 2 mins

He chanced a look toward Pots, whose head lolled to the side as he snored.

Message To: Re

Hey quick question why are you like this

It’s a good thing Pots is out cold bc this bus is too small to hide anything

Message From: Re

Haha sux to be you

Sirius’ cheeks heated with a whole cocktail of different emotions as he furiously typed a response.

Message To: Re

‘Sux to be you’???

Are you 13 yrs old????

Message From: Re

Do you want your prize or not u horndog

Message To: Re

YOU MADE ME THIS WAY

He took a deep breath through his nose and flexed his fingers.

Yes please

A simple smiley face—Sirius would never see those things the same—popped up, followed by an audio file. He triple-checked that his headphones were plugged in before tapping ‘play’ with an unsteady thumb.

His face went very, very hot before all the blood went straight to his groin and he closed his eyes, covering his mouth with his hand. Breathy sounds came through the heavy earphones, a little more crackly than they would be in-person; he heard Remus’ gasp catch in his throat and crossed his legs as best he could in the too-small seat, torn between thanking and cursing any higher power. He could practically see Remus’ face in his mind’s eye as the noises continued, intermixed with fragments of desperate words.

The file came to an end after what felt like the blink of an eye and a hundred years, and Sirius did not look away from the violently red seat cushion in front of him for a long moment as his brain came back online. He couldn’t remember the last time he was so turned on.

He took a few deep breaths, though it did nothing to erase the poorly-muffled whines that still rang between his ears like church bells. Sirius huffed and turned to grab his waterbottle out of his duffel, only to make direct eye contact with Finn across the aisle.

Sirius froze.

Finn grinned.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he hissed, too low to wake James but just loud enough to carry over the four feet separating them. Finn’s smile widened. “Stop it. Stop it right now.”

“How’s Loops?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“That good, huh?”

“O’Hara, I swear to god—”

“Oh, is Cap spilling secrets?” Kasey asked, poking his head over the back of the seat.

Finn opened his mouth, but the force of Sirius’ glare must have been enough to at least intimidate him a little, because he shook his head. The smug Cheshire grin remained. “Nah, just having a chat about our plans when we get home.”

Kasey groaned. “You’re a lucky man, O’Hara. Both your people get to come with you. Nat sent me a promise, like, twenty minutes ago and I can’t stop thinking about it. I won’t be available tonight from six to eight if anyone was wondering.”

“Did she really?” Finn looked back to Sirius, who bit the inside of his cheek and tried to keep his cool. Two and a half hours, and then he would be safe. Just two and a half more hours.

[y0itsbri]

Hi Bri 🥰

C-16 if you'd like to 👀

Coffee dates and disasters

au with college!lip and barista!mandy where ian is a frequent visitor at the campus café and meets mickey under rather unfortunate circumstances. don't cry over spilled milk, buddy.

which also fits under a.u.gust for @gallavichthings

words: 2.4k

"never would have thought you the type to come to one of these places," ian mused, looking around the small café with only lamps and string lights illuminating the space. "can't believe college changed you, man," ian clutched at his heart dramatically.

"don't worry. 'm still the annoying bastard you love so dearly," lip squeezed ian's shoulder before he sauntered up to the counter.

the barista's bored expressed brightened when she saw them. her perky demeanor was matched by a high pitched voice, "hey lip," she smiled, dark lipstick striking. she appraised ian with a somewhat predatory eye, "hello, lip's friend."

"uh, brother," ian coughed.

lip rolled his eyes, "and he's gay so don't even try it, mandy."

she pouted and flicked her hair behind her shoulder, "not that it's any of your business, anyways."

ian chuckled besides him, drawing another smile out of mandy, this one kinder, sweeter.

"what can i get you boys?"

the pink highlights glistened in her dark hair as she whipped up lip's cold brew and ian's caramel macchiato, then proceeded to insist that this one is on the house. neither of them argued, but thanked her before they settled down in some stools by the window.

"fucking the barista privileges?" ian asked, raising his eyebrow at his slut of a brother.

"i think of it more like fellow south sider charity," he rubbed his bottom lip, "but yours works too," lip smirked around the edges of his coffee cup.

"you're an idiot."

"can a man who got us free drinks really be deemed an idiot?" lip philosophized.

ian paused, taking a moment of thorough consideration. he looked lip straight in the eyes as he answered, "if that man is you, then without a doubt."

lip tried to knock ian's cup out of his hand, but failed at his attempt. ian thanked his well-practiced jrotc skills and a lifetime experience of growing up in a house packed with annoying siblings for his victory.

they chatted about the robotics classes lip was taking, how he got full-time access to one of the labs, and his weird ass roommate who may or may not be gay if ian is at all interested. ian scrunched up his face. after hearing so many horror stories about the guy, ian didn't want anywhere near him. he wasn't that desperate yet.

the second that lip was out of his seat and heading to the bathroom, the beautiful mess that was mandy descended.

"hiiii lip's gay brother," she leaned against the table.

"it's ian," he spun his empty cup in his hands. he couldn't help himself from smiling at her charisma.

"well hi, ian, i just wanted to say sorry if i spooked you earlier. i just had no idea lip's brother would be so cute!"

"his ugly mug's not too hard to beat." ian laughed. "he got the short end of the gallagher stick, literally."

"cute and charming. you're funny, ian gallagher, i like you." she placed her hand on his shoulder for a moment, a movement so soft compared to her rather frantic appearance. "come back here anytime and it's on the house, yeah? i work most evenings after three."

"oh. uh- okay," ian scrambled for words, "thanks."

she squeezed his shoulder once before lip returned with a rather obnoxious entrance.

"ayo mands, stop harassing him!"

ian ducked his head in embarrassment.

"oh, shut up! i'm just clearing your cups," she winked at ian as she left.

mandy was something else. but she was kind and good company. ian could get used to the chill atmosphere over the chaos of the gallagher house anytime. he might just take up her offer.

--

"you'd think with all the time you spend here, you'd be offered a scholarship or something by now." mandy sipped on her chocolate frappuccino as she laid her feet across ian's lap. he always made sure to come visit during her breaks at least twice a week during the past couple months.

ian shrugged, "guess they only had room for one gallagher."

mandy hit his arm in a way that hurt. lip was fucked if he ever broke her heart.

"does fiona even know that this is where you sneak off to?"

"yeah." mandy's look said she didn't believe him. "well, kinda. she thinks i'm visiting lip, brotherly duties and all."

"yeah? how are those brotherly duties?"

"fuck if i know."

she laughed.

"i still think you should apply here for next fall," she encouraged, "could take some art classes."

"i suck at art."

"chemistry?"

"failed that."

"business?"

"yeah, no thanks."

mandy flipped him off, "fine. botany?

"ya know what? sure." he had always wanted to grow tomatoes.

"really?!"

"heart wants what it wants, mandy. we can't all be psychology brainiacs."

"brains and beauty, what can i say?" she teased. ian laughed, eyes glistening towards his friend. mandy made things better.

"hey," she continued, "there's this concert on the main campus lawn this weekend, you should totally come!"

"isn't that just for students?"

"they don't card, dummy."

"right, right, i knew that."

"sureeee. you in?"

ian mentally checked his work schedule.

"i'm in."

--

lip and ian strolled into the café a few days later. okay, maybe ian had felt a bit guilty for abandoning his brotherly duties lately, but at least this way he could hang out with both his best friends. well he could have if he remembered the fact that mandy had the day off for her behavioral neuroscience midterm. they had literally spent her previous shift reviewing the terms, he should have known.

ian's couldn't help his face from falling as another blonde barista took their orders, mostly eyeing lip the whole time.

"hi lip," she smiled a little too sincerely, "what can i get for you today?"

ian had ordered something new at the recommendation of the blonde and he was not a fan. and to make matters worse, he had to actually pay for the atrocity that he wouldn't even be able to finish.

"so how's your little coffee dates with mandy?" lip asked over his cup.

ian nearly choked on his god-awful americano. "how'd you know?"

"please. she's obsessed with you. every time i see her, it's 'ian this,' 'ian that,' 'ian might apply here in next year.'"

"oh."

"yeah, oh. when were you gonna tell me?!"

“it’s all mandy’s idea, i’m not even sure i want to,” ian muttered, refusing to make eye contact.

“dude, i’ve literally shared a room with you since the day you popped out of monica’s wretched womb, you think I can’t tell when you’re lying?”

okay maybe ian had been getting increasingly more excited about the idea of attending school and actually learning things that he wants to learn. something that might actually lead him somewhere real since rotc was looking more and more like a poor man's fantasy the more that he thought about it.

“I was gonna tell you, swear on it.” and he was. once he convinced himself that lip wasn't going to straight up laugh in his face. but the look in his eye seemed genuinely supportive.

“mhm, i gotta catch my english lit class," lip stood up, swinging his tattered tan backpack across one shoulder. he patted ian's shoulder in his big brother ways, "don’t be a stranger, yeah?”

“yeah, yeah for sure! have fun learning a language you already know!” lip flipped him off at his smartass remark.

soon after, ian stood up to return his drink to the counter, the anxiety from the conversation making him entirely lose whatever appetite he might have had. plus, it wasn’t the same here without lip or mandy. he just wanted to be wrapped up in a cocoon in his own bed. but that was so far away. maybe he could catch an early ride—

thump.

ian crashed into a guy’s sturdy body.

the remnants of his shitty drink spilled in an americano nightmare over both of them, ceramic pieces shattering on the floor in a truly horrific manner.

ian yipped and the other man let out a grunt of irritation.

they were fucking soaked. well, at least the coffee wasn't hot? ian tried justifying the situation, but, nah, this was bad.

"shit! i'm so sorry, lemme," ian reached out and the shorter man flinched away.

they were now far enough apart that ian got a good look at him. a leather jacket.. now covered in ian's drink -- shit. and shockingly piercing blue eyes that lingered too long on ian's before his cheeks turned a shade of pink that made ian's stomach flutter.

he might have seemed cold if he didn’t make ian feel so warm.

"it’s cool, man. i gotta go, uh," and he walked out of the café without looking back.

fuck.

ian smelled like coffee the entire train ride to the back of the yards. he laid in his bed regretting his entire life.

no mandy. no lip. no dignity.

--

the day of the concert that mandy had invited him to rolled around. ian wouldn’t admit it, but he was nervous to spend a coffee-less evening with mandy, their entire friendship built inside that one room. his little bubble of safety was bursting.

well, to be honest, the bubble had burst the moment that his disaster of a coffee was spilled onto one of the most ridiculously pretty guys that he's ever seen. every time he closed his eyes, he remembered the guy’s face shift from hostile to something else. he was torn between wanting to know the his name and also on never seeing him again in fear that he would simply pass away of embarrassment.

hopefully mandy hadn't heard about it. they may not have been friends for a long time, but he already knew that she would never let him live it down.

"hey ian!" her familiar voice called. that sounded promising.

his face fell with relief as he finally spotted her at the corner. she embraced him in a warm hug before pulling back and giving him a once over.

"huh, could have sworn you'd still have coffee behind your ear or something after the description karen gave me of your little disaster the other day." she smirked, quite literally double checking behind his ears as they turned hot under her gaze.

"ugh, fuck, how much did she tell you?" he itched his forehead and scrunched up his nose.

"oh, calm your tits, it's funny as fuck." she giggled, punching his arm in a way that still unintentionally hurt.

"whatever. are you excited for the concert tonight?"

their reunion conversation lulled eventually, and ian noticed that they weren't necessarily standing alone.

no. fucking. way.

just his luck, if he was being honest. he probably deserved this.

there he stood. the man that has plagued his dreams the past few days. in a light wash jean jacket that was a little tight on the biceps, leaning casually against the wall, kicking the pebbles on the ground with his boot.

"uh, what's he doing here?" ian gestured towards the victim of The Coffee Incident.

“what, you know him?” mandy asked, walking them towards him.

“vaguely.” if that wasn’t the understatement of the year.

"huh. i didn’t think my idiot brother had any friends."

brother? how did ian not realize she had a brother?

"what, did you think i was going to babysit you all night? i can't let everyone here thinking you're my boyfriend, no offense or whatever, but you're in good hands!" she kissed his cheek, clearly not helping her own not-looking-like-her-boyfriend rule.

ian eyed said brother's good hands only to see the faded letters of FUCK U-UP on them. oh.

mandy pushed ian over to her brother, "ian, mickey. mickey, ian," she introduced before pushing and shuffling her way through the crowd of college students to find herself someone’s cheap ass fruity alcohol to mooch off of.

mickey. ian's brain repeated over and over, a chime against the murmuring sea of voices they found themselves enveloped by.

"nice jacket," ian pointed out, an awkward attempt to converse before shoving his hands back in his pockets.

"it's my second favorite." the corners of his mouth lifted like there was more to the statement. ian took the bait, as if he could resist.

"what's your first?"

"first is still airing out the fuckin’ coffee smell," he smirked as ian groaned. "oh c’mon, man, don't go crying over spilled milk."

how could he not? on the bright side, he didn’t seemed to hate ian for it.

“if it was anyone else,” mickey drawled, “they’d have to get a beat down for it.”

“why do I get a free pass?” ian mused.

“well, you’re mandy’s friend, right?”

“yup,” ian tried to suppress his disappointment. he really did. but fiona always told him he wore his heart on his sleeve.

“yeah, that ain’t why, though,” his eyebrows waggled suggestively and ian nearly felt his heart drop out of his ass.

ian blessed whatever coffee god was out there for sending him both mandy and the beautiful man in front of him.

“you wanna go listen to the band?” ian nodded his head towards the stage with passionate players jumping around like they were playing lollapalooza or some shit.

“lead the way, stud, just try to keep your drinks off of me this time,” mickey knocked into ian’s own flannel covered shoulder.

yeah, ian couldn’t believe his luck. maybe karma was finally on his side.

—

mandy smirked at her brother and best friend not-so-subtly checking each other out over the course of the night, bopping their heads to the music and downing whatever free booze they could get their hands on.

she hoped that adding mickey to the equation would be enough incentive to convince ian to stick around. things were better when he was near.

the way that ian followed mickey around like a lost puppy with that dopey moon-eyed look, it seemed like her hopes would come true.

and when both ian and mickey strolled into the café to come visit her at work the next week, mickey in his worse-for-wear leather jacket and ian in borrowed denim, she thanks the coffee gods for her luck.

[shadowworks]

Resolutions

Pairing: Hawks X Reader

Warnings: Fluffy, hurt/comfort, mentions of alcohol (consumed at a party!) mentions of height difference, Feels. There’s feels.

Word Count: 1.4k

Song suggestion: New Years Day by Taylor Swift

A/N: A group of us decided to do Secret Santa, and my pick was sweet, @redflannel! I really hope you like it, and you’ll be excited for the new year! 🥺

Thank you @some-kindofgnome for helping brainstorm ideas and reading over everything! Honestly, you’ve been through it all. 🤍 Also, thank you @hisoknen, @present-mel & @pleasantanathema for reading it over towards the end. 🤍

Red, this one’s for you!

New Years Eve.

There’s glitter on the floor when you walk through the party. You hear the muted cheers of laughter from the rooftop, all colleagues from Hawks’ agency watching fireworks bloom across a dark sky. A couple girls walk by, holding pretty shoes by their straps and both lost in their conversation. Your interests are elsewhere. On someone, actually.

The hall trails to a corner office on the right, the door's closed but that doesn’t make you turn around. A soft knock, and a turn of the knob follows right before you step inside. The room is mostly dark, save for a dim desk lamp turned on near the city windows.

“Hawks?” You call out in the dark. Tousled locks of gold tip in your direction, and you’re met with honey eyes staring wide from the high rise window. It’s a surprise, though it looks like you’re welcomed.

“Hey,” he offers gently. His low voice isn't as strong as usual. It’s quiet and solemn...not like him at all.

“Hey,” you greet back, closing the door behind you, “What are you doing in here, babe?”

Hawks made his appearance earlier in the night. He poured himself a glass of champagne, and he wandered between conversations through the crowds like a smooth talker. And yet, when it came to the clock reaching nearly midnight, you noticed his vibrant presence wasn’t among the hazy and drunk crowds.

In truth he likes to go off on his own. You've come to find this out through your months working together, but still. This is different.

“Ah well, gotta catch up on paperwork, you know how it is.” He manages, glimpsing back to the glass. You did. But you know he submitted his paperwork days prior...To prove this, the desk’s clean without a single shred of paper on top, and his computer screen is blank, idle, a dull light painting the keyboard.

You take your time approaching the desk, capturing him in the soft light. He’s in a three piece suit, holes cut in the back for his plush crimson wings. Lovely posture, and he holds a half empty glass of champagne in hand, the other tucked in the pocket of his trousers, and so...effortlessly beautiful. It’s hard not to stare.

“Did I submit the reports wrong the first time?” You ask.

“What?—No! That’s not—” you catch him off guard. It’s not something that happens often, but maybe because it’s you he’s affected more as he stares back startled. But his words bubble in his throat, and he turns shamefully to shield his face, with shoulders hitched slightly.

You tilt your head, attempting a peek at his flustered features and you quietly circle around the lengthy wooden desk. “You sure this isn’t for something else?”

That’s not enough. He still doesn’t answer, instead he holds his stare to the flutter of fallen snow pouring down onto the city.

“Hey, look at me,” you tell him. This time you draw close to his form, extending an arm and taking his champagne glass. He lets it slip from his fingers as you set it down for him on the desk. You glance up, hands finding his cheeks lightly dusted in a blush. You cup them softly, guiding his head to face yours, “What’s going on with you?”

His handsomely marked eyes fall lidded. They search your own, intensely looking for something...The heat between your fingers is soothing, and you feel his calloused hands reach upward to lay across your fingers, stroking your knuckles in a gentle manner with his thumb.

“Shoulda taken it easy on the champagne.”

“We both know that was your first glass.”

You feel Hawks slide your hands from his cheeks, his stubble grazing your skin, only to cradle you around the waist and pull you into his chest at once. You instinctively find your arms wrapping around him. He buries his head into your shoulder, breathing deep, holding you tightly in his arms.

Something you’ve noticed about Hawks is he doesn’t always give you the answer right away. Sometimes it takes patience, and the way he is right now? This is something that’ll have to wait until the morning, when the new year has finally begun. And that’s okay.

“Hawks,” you say, craning your head toward his thickly swept hairs. When he doesn’t move from the embrace, you pause for a moment, just before your voice falls to a whisper.

“Keigo.”

His head slowly lifts, looking back at you longing, with all the love in the gleam of his eyes. He gave you his name some time ago, but the conditions are to keep it a secret. You couldn’t say it in the workplace, or around mixed company. But this is an exception.

The world is looking toward the sparks in the sky, while you’re looking at the sparks in his eyes. The sound of muted shouts come from above again; the countdown ringing from drunken voices.

Ten

Nine

Eight

“How about I take you home?” You gently soothe. You watch his features soften.

Seven

Six

Five

“Only if you stay with me,” Keigo breathes back, amber cologne brushing your nose as he flutters his lips against yours.

Four

Three

Two

“I always will.”

One

Your lips press together and fireworks burst from beyond the glass window, shading you two in a blend of blues, greens, and reds. Your eyes are closed, lost in a tender touch.

Happy New Year!

When you both pull apart, it’s slow and you two are lingering. Peeling your eyes open, you glance at each other through the long, boisterous cheers of celebration.

It’s Hawks who moves first, collecting your hand in his as he leads you out the door of his office. He knows how to leave a party in private, he’s good with fast departures, after all. Only a couple people catch the two of you collecting your winter coats, and he flashes a coy smile with a charming flare.

A little too quickly you feel the crisp air bite your skin as you depart into the harsh cold. You’re grateful Keigo draws you toward him, letting the soft plush of his wings veil you from the oncoming wind. The city is alive with continuous noise poppers, and cheering sounds in the distance. But it’s Keigo’s voice which catches your attention.

“You know,” he starts, his tone smoother than before. But there’s a hint of nerves you can detect, just a little as he goes on, “I’ve been thinking a lot about next year.”

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“Guess we could call it a New Years Resolution or something, heh, been leading up to it, but…”

“Babe.”

Finally turning towards you face to face, he leans into you, holding you in another tight embrace and dipping his lips down by your nipped ear, “I’m not just asking you to stay the night...I want you to stay with me in the long run. Stay and live with me.”

Your nerves ignite in a tingling shock. It’s not as though the thought hasn’t crossed your mind before. You’ve been together long enough. A few mentions here and there. Still. Still...Your sight begins to blur. You can’t stop the hot streaks of tears wetting your cheeks, and a smile pulls to the corners of your mouth.

“Hawks are you,” you can’t form the words, not at first, straining for a moment to keep your voice steady, “Are you serious?”

“I’m as serious as can be,” his coughing laugh breaks in between, “I know that’s hard to believe, but I can have my moments….So, what do you say?”

You nod your head, hiding your face in the warmth of his pro-hero coat, trimmed in fluffs of white.

Another soft laugh vibrates from his chest, gloved hands gently running up and down your shoulder. “Can’t hear you under there, little dove, you’ll have to speak louder.”

With another nod you manage to lift your head, smiling wider, “I’d like that.”

“We’ll work out the details later. Right now…” Keigo smiles back. Lovingly, softly, “Let’s go home.”

It ended up being the fastest resolution made.

***

I was listening to New Years Day on repeat, and yes it did inspire a few ideas for the fic. Thanks for reading! Happy New Years 💙🎊

[cadence-talle]

looking for the golden light

Pairing: Dex Dizznee/Tam Song

Wordcount: 1,186

Summary: Tam slams into the shop wearing a large straw hat, face stormy. The door he’s shoved open hits the magazine stand and almost knocks it over. Dex winces.

His hat has flowers on it. Uh oh.

Other notes: written around a prompt by the wonderful @i-love-side-characters!! my line was “Seriously? I can’t believe you’d think that.” which i... followed. mostly. 

anyway please don’t ask me what this is, i Do Not know. it’s set in the 1950s? maybe? Dex works at a drugstore with a soda fountain :/

Taglist: @everyonehasthoughts, @catboyruy, @loverofallthingssmart, @a-lonely-tatertot, @enbies-and-felonies, @lemontarto, @sofia-not-sophie, @ruewen-and-rising, @silver-snow, @keefeinnit, @hyperlollypop, @thesandsofdawn, @my-swan-song, @impostertamsong, @yeetersofthelostcities, @diamond-dreamerr, @we-have-no-bananas-today, @an-absolute-travesty, @callas-starkflower-stew, @jadenightthewriter, @keefes-hairgel, @kirisong, @fire-sapphics, @alabestrine, @brilliantblindinglights, @isapizzas, @mistythegenderqueermess, @imaramennoodle, @queersofthelostcities, @b-blurryyfacee, @bianavacker-is-bi-as-hell, @silver-war, @real-smooth

“Where is he.” 

Tam slams into the shop wearing a large straw hat, face stormy. The door he’s shoved open hits the magazine stand and almost knocks it over. Dex winces. 

His hat has flowers on it. Uh oh. 

“Where. Is. Keefe.” Tam repeats. Dex raises an eyebrow, drying off another glass and putting it on the shelf. He’s lucky the drugstore’s empty right now- when Tam’s in a mood like this, it tends to scare off customers. 

“He’s not on shift today. Why, what happened?”

Tam huffs. “Remember when I came here last week? Because I needed more silver dye for my hair and I was out? And Keefe gave me that bottle?”

“You used it? Seriously? I can’t believe you’d think that thing was legit.”

“Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting it to turn my head green!” Tam whips the hat off his head and Dex hides a laugh behind his hand. 

Sure enough, Tam’s hair is green. Neon green, in fact, a color Dex would be astonished at if he hadn’t made that particular dye himself. It almost seems to glow in the sunlight coming through the front windows. 

“Looks good,” Dex says, trying to keep the giggle out of his voice. From the glower Tam gives him, it doesn’t work. 

“Can you fix it or not?”

“Yeah, I can. Gimme a second.” Dex turns to the soda fountain and fills up a cup, sliding it over the counter to Tam. “Drink this. Maybe it’ll make you less homicidal.” 

Tam slides onto one of the stools and sighs, taking a sip. “Thanks,” he mutters, which is about as close an apology as Dex is going to get. Dex hums and rummages around in the medicine cabinet. 

“Here,” he says after a second. “This’ll turn your hair back. I think you have to bleach it first, though. It’s not as strong as the green one was.”

“Ugh.” Tam puts his head on the counter. “It’s Sunday.”

“Oh.” Sunday means the barber- the only place Tam can get his hair bleached- is closed. Which means... 

“I’m going to be like this for at least another day, aren’t I.” Tam’s tone is defeated. Dex stares at him for a moment, watches his fingers tap against the side of his stool in some sort of confusing rhythm. 

Fine. Okay. 

He crosses the shop and turns the OPEN sign on the front to CLOSED. It’s only four and he’s probably going to get chewed out for this, but it’s fine. Livvy loves him anyway. 

“I can bleach your hair here,” Dex says. “If you have an hour or two.” 

Tam lifts his head up. “You can?” 

“Yeah. Grab that towel unless you want to ruin your shirt and come into the back room.” 

“Okay,” Tam says. When Dex glances back, he could swear Tam’s smiling. 

The bleaching itself doesn’t take long. Dex brushes it on, folds Tam’s hair up into a cap, and settles down to wait. In the meantime, he switches the radio on. 

It starts up on a bright song, crackling halfway through to a news report as Dex adjusts the antenna. Tam leans over to listen. 

“Your new project?” he asks. Dex nods. 

“I’ve rewired it to pick up long-distance signals. It’s not super useful to know what the weather in Seattle is, I guess, but it’s cool.” 

“Yeah.” Tam reaches out and presses a button. They connect to another music station. “It’s cool that you can do stuff like that, though. You think you’ll go to college for mechanics or something?” 

“I want to.” Dex shrugs. “Depends, I guess. If I get a scholarship.”

“Right,” Tam says. There’s an awkward pause and Dex searches frantically for something to fill the silence. 

“What about you? Do you want to study anything?” 

Tam huffs a little laugh, glancing down at the countertop. “Probably,” he says. “Maybe. Yes.” 

Dex looks at him, at the way his shoulders hunch in just a little bit and his eyes are firmly fixed on the marble. It’s weird, to see Tam so unsure of himself. To see Tam without the tough pretense. 

“It’s still a year till graduation,” Dex says. “You have time to figure it out.” 

“Yeah.” Tam smiles a little and goes to tug at his hair, realizing halfway through that it’s still covered. Dex snorts. 

“The bleach will be set soon. I think we have more silver in the cabinets, actually, if you want to do your bangs while you’re here.” 

“Oh.” Tam nods and doesn’t say anything else. Dex tilts his head at him. 

“Do you want to dye your bangs while you’re here?”

Tam shrugs. “I don’t know. I’ve had the silver bangs forever. I can’t tell if I want to keep them or- not.”

“They were, like, a rebellion thing, right?” 

“Yeah. Which was great, when I lived with my parents and it’d make my dad pissed, but now we’re staying with Wylie and Tiergan and it’s just like.” Tam waves a hand. “I don’t know.”

The song on the radio changes into something fast and upbeat. Dex lowers the volume. 

“It’s up to you,” he says. “Right? Your hair.” 

“Right.” 

“Speaking of which. The bleach is probably done by now.” Dex stifles another laugh as Tam uncovers his hair, which is now a bright blond. “You look fantastic.” 

Without saying anything, Tam reaches for his hat. He stares at Dex, face expressionless. 

“Time to hit the beach, I guess.” Dex says, and watches as Tam’s poker face breaks. 

Applying the dye takes an annoyingly long time. Dex is careful to get every strand of hair, leaving the bangs for last. When he’s almost done, he steps back and looks at Tam.

“Do it,” Tam says. “I don’t have anything to prove anymore.”

Dex smiles and finishes the bottle. 

“Thanks you,” Tam murmurs later, when his hair is tucked up again and almost done. “You didn’t have to do all of this.” 

“I wanted to, though,” Dex points out. “Couldn’t just let you run around looking like a paintbrush.”

Tam laughs. He reaches out and takes Dex’s hand, examining the black blotches on his fingertips where the dye seeped through his gloves. Dex pretends his heart isn’t beating a mile a minute. 

“Still,” Tam says. “Thank you.”

-/-

“Good morning.”

The radio’s playing again when Tam walks into the shop the next day. He’s still wearing the straw hat. Dex can see his bangs under it, though, and they’re a perfect natural color. He raises an eyebrow at Tam. 

“Nice hat. Keefe’s in the back, by the way, if you still want to yell at him.”

“Thank you.” Tam slides onto his stool again. “And no, actually. I just came here so I could talk to you.” 

“Oh.” Dex blinks. “What about?”

Tam looks at him. Looks down at the ground. Looks into his eyes again.

“They’re playing a movie musical at the theater next weekend,” he says, voice level. “Would you like to go with me?”

He’s so calm and perfectly awkward that Dex cracks a smile. 

“I’d like that,” he says. The radio keeps singing. 

[writertitan]

Midnight

pairing: eren x reader

themes: modern au, new year’s eve, angsty if you squint

A chorus of cheers erupted almost as soon as you crossed the threshold of Sasha’s home, though from the clinks and clatters of glass and the smell of bourbon, you could tell that the cheers were in celebration of something other than your unnoticed arrival.  

“Welcome!” Sasha greeted you with a warm smile and bright eyes, tugging you further into her equally warm and bright house, where everyone was already a little tipsy, a little rowdy. You didn’t want to look visibly nervous, but there you were, shoulders up to your ears and eyes shifting back and forth, looking for that mess of dark hair, those green eyes that pierced through you and everyone else. You nearly jumped when Sasha’s whisper danced into your ear. “Don’t worry, he’s not here and I don’t think he’ll show up.” 

“I wasn’t looking for him,” you mumbled, a little indignant, and then rolled your eyes when you saw Sasha’s knowing smirk. “I just don’t want things to be awkward, Sasha. It’s been months since we’ve even seen each other, let alone been in the same space all night. I guess I’m just...a little worried. Well, I was. Are you sure he’s not coming?” 

“Doubt it,” she says, that smirk still plastered on her face. “Why? Does that make you saaaad?” 

“Shut up,” you groaned, but you yanked on her ponytail playfully to let her know you weren’t upset as you walked past her, ready to pour some bourbon for yourself to ease your nerves. 

I’ll have to catch up, you thought to yourself with a grin as Connie raised his half-full glass to your full one, a silly laugh escaping him as you clink your glass to his. 

“Happy new year! Almost!” he nearly shouted before downing the last of his drink in a swift gulp. You tried to follow his pace, always competitive with him, but ended up coughing up some bourbon. Connie laughed instantly, and you could faintly hear Jean laughing as well, which made you glare at the two of them through watered-up eyes, stinging from the liquor. 

“Loser, can’t even hold your bourbon in and you just barely showed up!” Jean laughed, wiggling his almost empty cup in your face, as if to show off his own progress. 

Instead of verbally retaliating, you took another sip and spat it out at him, bursting out into laughter this time with the shout of surprise that came out of his mouth. 

“When are you gonna learn to leave me alone, huh?” you said, snickering and secretly giving Connie a high-five. Evidently, you weren’t going to be needing to drink too much to calm your nerves. You downed the rest of your drink anyway, mostly to piss Jean off and show Connie your two-person drinking game was on. With each drained glass, you felt yourself get looser and warmer, felt the world get a little whirlier, and you found yourself even looking forward to the new year, despite having to leave some things -- and some people -- behind. 

No, you promised yourself you wouldn’t think about that, you thought to yourself again, shaking your head as if to shake the thoughts out. Unfortunately, the shaking made things go a little dizzy, and you bumped into a table to steady yourself. 

“Ugh,” you groaned, setting down your glass and rubbing your forehead. All this drinking was going to be a bitch in the morning, and the discomfort of your intoxication was already getting to you. Even steadying yourself on the table the dizziness didn’t let up, the whirling didn’t stop, and the alcohol churned in your body, that familiar nausea finally surfacing. 

“Oh shit, she’s gonna blow.” 

Whoever had said that should have counted their lucky stars you were too drunk to do anything but stumble to Sasha’s bathroom, but you figured it was stupid Connie, eager to win your drinking game yet again. You shut the bathroom door behind you and took a deep breath, kneeling in front of the toilet and leaning onto your side to use the wall as support, your cheek hitting its cool surface. You didn’t actually think you were going to throw up, but you’d been wrong about these things before, and it was better to be safe than sorry. A knock at the door made you snap your head over too quickly, the dizziness almost being the catalyst for that awful nausea to finally bubble over into the toilet, but you kept your composure. You heard your name being called on the other side of the door, and something about the voice seemed familiar…

“Hold on,” you slurred, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. I won’t puke, I’m not gonna puke, nope, nope, nope…

Your name was called again, this time clearer and more easily heard above the reverberating music and chatter of everyone else still partying. “C’mon, open the door.” You didn’t answer, finally recognizing the voice, your heart stuttering and fighting in your ribcage. No way. “Alright, since you’re not answering, I’m coming in.”

“No!” But it was too late. Your vision swam as Eren’s figure stepped into the cramped bathroom with you, quietly shutting the door behind him before kneeling in front of you. If you didn’t know any better, you could have sworn that his eyes were clouded with concern for you. But you did know better. 

“Jesus, are you okay?” he whispered, careful to keep his voice low. 

“What are you doing here? Sasha said you weren’t coming!” you whined, slumping over the toilet. You flinched when you felt a warm hand on your back, and when he registered the flinch, he promptly pulled his hand away. You didn’t know which action hurt you more. 

“Changed my mind,” Eren answered simply. You could almost hear the casual shrug of his shoulders. 

You said nothing, squeezing your eyes shut and willing this to be a nasty dream. The booze had loosened you up and made you forget about Eren for the night, comforted in the thought of him not showing up. Now it was coaxing out your fears and your innermost conflicts. Drunk you wanted to lash out, to bring up those painful topics, but the tiniest sliver of the sober you was still screaming and fighting for your silence. It worked; Eren waited for you to speak, to say something, anything, but spoke up again when he realized you wouldn’t. 

“I’m probably the last person you want to be around, but just let me stay and make sure you don’t choke on your own puke,” he mumbled. The words made you sit up again and glare at him, though the glassy look in your eyes didn’t do well to intimidate him. In fact, it made him smile at you. “What, you think I don’t remember how you get when you drink too much? I’m surprised you haven’t been barfing your guts out this entire time.” 

“I’m not going to barf,” you growled, trying feebly to kick him away. Was the alcohol fucking you up even more than it already had? You felt more intoxicated now. Your senses were going wild and you felt bleary, heavy, like your center of gravity was changing, like your orbit was off. Instead of being focused at your core, it had seeped out elsewhere, making you lean away from the wall and closer to...

No. Drunk you was going to be the death of sober you. 

“Eren, I’m fine. Go have fun,” you whispered, not daring to look at him. In fact, you hadn’t looked directly at him this whole time. You recoiled from him and slumped against the wall, finally chancing a look his way. 

He was beautiful. Always beautiful, but especially tonight. He hadn’t given a damn about dressing up like everyone else, which was classic Eren, and that’s what made him look perfect. The careless bun at the nape of his neck, the ripped jeans, his favorite tattered sweatshirt with his band’s name stamped on it. Purposefully unkempt, as you’d often told him in the past. The past...where you’d once been together. 

“It’s not much better out there. I saw you run in here when I was walking in and wanted to make sure you were doing better than Connie. He’s outside throwing up over the porch, and don’t even get me started on Sasha,” Eren said, rolling his eyes. His gaze was gentle when he looked back at you. “I’ll have a better time in here with you.” 

Your breath hitched at the words. This wasn’t actually happening. You weren’t going to let yourself believe it. 

“You don’t have to be nice to me. I don’t know why you’re being so nice to me,” you blurted out. Finally, the words that had been dying to come out. Drunk you was absolutely going to be the death of sober you.

This made Eren speechless, for once. His eyes widened for a moment and you could tell the wheels were turning in his head.

“You’re too wasted for me to have an actual conversation with you,” he decided with a sigh, tucking a stray lock of hair behind his ear. Both of you remembered at that moment when it was you fixing his hair, pushing it out of his face. 

“Am not!” you tried to argue, flinging the nostalgia away and replacing it with your haughty attitude. Eren remembered that too well, the attitude always coming out after too many drinks. “If you have something to say to me, I suggest you say it.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

The words hung in the air between you. Two throats choked up, two pairs of eyes locked, and two hearts ached and called out for each other. 

Your bottom lip trembled when the shame overcame you, pushing you back against the wall to put distance between yourself and Eren. All those months of being good, of avoiding him, of blocking him everywhere, of doing everything to keep moving on...it couldn’t crumble like this. 

“Why did you do it?” you asked meekly, praying the tears that burned your eyes would go away. You looked at your lap, feeling dead sober now. 

Eren didn’t know how to answer the question. How could he tell you that he had done it to save you from the heaviness in him after everything that had happened with his family? He was broken and refused to drag you down with him. He wasn’t good enough. He had needed to find the strength to get better without you, because that wasn’t fair to you to have to shoulder the burden. He’d never ask that of you. 

And now you were in front of him, but you were too drunk to comprehend anything he’d try to voice out. 

“I didn’t do it because I stopped...loving you,” was all he could say, “I just thought that hurting you like that was better than hurting you like I would have if I’d been selfish enough to put you through all my heavy shit. And when I realized you had cut me off and that you were avoiding me, I wanted to give you space.” 

You began to speak, reaching out for him, a blaze of fire in your eyes, and Eren knew what was coming. He stopped you by cupping his hand over your mouth, chuckling when you froze in surprise. 

“If I promise I’ll be right there next to you tomorrow morning so we can talk, will you promise to wait to yell at me until then?” he whispered. 

You slumped your shoulders in silent resignation and nodded, the feeling of his touch overwhelming your senses. You had missed him. Even just the playful touch of his hand on your mouth to silence you was enough to make your body heat up. When he took it away, you felt cold. 

“There’s just about two minutes left until midnight…” Eren started, rubbing the back of his neck shyly. His gaze was averted, but you saw the way he kept looking at you out of the corner of his eye as you both got up, him helping you get back on your feet. 

You smiled and tried to fight the blush that crept onto your cheeks as your hand found his, the warmth spreading over you again when he squeezed your fingers. Neither of you let go. 

“You’re not gonna make me start the new year alone, are you?” you teased him, and the familiar glint in those green eyes made your heart swell. 

“You’re not gonna puke on me, right?” he countered, laughing quietly when you hit his chest. He let you lean on him for support after sitting down for so long, but you refused to believe you were still a little tipsy. Walking out of the bathroom, your eyes blinked to adjust from the difference of lighting from the harsh fluorescents of the bathroom to the dim fairy lights adorning the hallway. 

“There’s gonna be fireworks outside at midnight. Wanna watch with me?” you asked, fighting back the shyness that made you fumble your words. Eren nodded almost immediately, an arm locked around your waist as you guided him to Sasha’s bedroom where all the coats were sprawled out on her bed. The lights were off but you didn’t turn them on, in too much of a hurry and too distracted by Eren’s presence behind you. You grabbed which one you thought was yours and started pulling it on, but perked up with Eren when the drunken chorus of your friends’ voices rang out. 

“TEN, NINE, EIGHT, SEVEN…”

You didn’t want to leave Eren behind. You wanted him next to you when the morning rose for the first day of a new year. You wanted to get closer and closer to him as your friends counted down the seconds from the living room. You wanted your lips on his at midnight. 

He wanted the same. 

His breath was warm on your face as you pressed up against him, the familiarity of your stance no longer bruising your heart, but balming it. Your hands were on his shoulders, fingers dancing up to caress his jaw, to subtly pull his face closer to yours. His hands glided down your sides until they found their favorite place at the small of your back. Your noses touched and he nudged yours playfully with his to get a smile out of you, your hearts both beating frantically. Even in the dark, hardly any light coming in, your bodies had found each other naturally, like nothing had changed. 

“TWO, ONE...HAPPY NEW YEAR!!” 

You could hear phone alarms going off, then fireworks, as your lips pressed to Eren’s. It wasn’t the booze making you feel lightheaded anymore. It was the softness of the boy’s lips, and the way he automatically pulled you in closer. The hair that had fallen out of his bun tickled your face and made you smile into the kiss, which made him mirror your actions. The fireworks outside boomed and crackled as Eren deepened your kiss, a hand moving up to cup your cheek gingerly. Your hands moved to push his hair away from his face, an action that was so familiar to the both of you that it left both of you breathless, and only then did you pull away from the kiss. 

“Happy new year,” you whispered in his ear, a dreamy smile playing on your lips as Eren’s continued to find your skin, not even close to being done kissing you. He wanted to memorize every inch of you all over again. The curve of your neck, the softness of your cheek, the tip of your nose. How he’d survived all this time without you was a fluke, a stroke of luck. It was impossible to go another day without at least seeing your face. He’d needed to see you and he was glad he’d come even if just out of hope that you might have been at the party too. 

“Happy new year,” Eren whispered into the crook of your neck, your name mumbled into your skin. When you both eventually pulled away from each other, he took your hand in his to guide you out, mumbling something about not wanting to miss the fireworks. You knew that him proudly holding your hand in front of your friends may have been a contributing factor in rushing you out. 

“Hey,” you said as you made your way to the front door, a devilish grin on your lips. “Did you say that Connie was losing it on the porch?” 

Eren nodded with a roll of his eyes, pulling you into his side. “Yep. Careful, his splash zone’s pretty gnarly.” 

You laughed loudly, almost a cackle, a glint in your eye as you tugged Eren outside with you. Connie was still slumped over the porch railing, looking delirious. 

“Hey, Connie! I won this time! And you say you can always drink me under the table, but I didn’t even throw up!” 

“Shut the hell up or else I’ll puke all over you.” 

“Whatever. Happy new year! Wait, is that Sasha eating snow?”

[engagemachine]

How would J react if Taylor swore infront/at him?

May 22nd: New update

Anon, I’ve been thinking about this ask for daaaaays. Had to write a fic. This is just part one (turned out a lot longer than I thought it would be--wrote it in one sitting) and I’ll post part two as soon as it’s done!

FYI: This takes place early on in Burn, probably sometime around chapter two, so Taylor is back in high school. 

---

It’s still snowing outside when Taylor slides into her seat for third period English. She loves the overlarge windows in here, stretching along almost the entire wall of the left-hand side of the classroom. Black windowpanes showcase the little fountain in the courtyard, the stone benches seated around it, and the long, winding sidewalk where each senior from the class of 2002 got to lay down a single handprint in the cement to commemorate their pending graduation. Taylor thinks she would’ve liked that, to immortalize a piece of herself in that way, inscribing her name inside her handprint. Taylor B. It intrigued her, the thought of someone walking over her handprint years later, wondering who Taylor B was, what she was like, where she was now.

The fountain is frozen over, and the courtyard is blanketed in a thick layer of snow, still untouched. She wonders what it says about her that she often fantasizes about being the first one to run out and ruin it, leave her footprints behind, crunch through snow that is knee-deep, that no one else has sullied yet. There’s something about being the first person to disrupt the beauty of nature. Like stepping on a fallen dead leaf, the satisfaction of hearing it crackle beneath your feet. Or jumping into a still lake, watching the ripples that fan out across the water as you break through to the surface. Like leaving footprints in the sand at the beach, only to have them rinsed away by the incoming tide moments later. It’s a temporary disruption—and perhaps that’s the appeal.

Taylor settles into her seat and takes out her books. The classroom is unusually bright, the sky outside milky and pale as the snow piles up, falling softly in great big clumps. Mrs. Herndan leaves the lights off because they don’t need them.  

Everyone is a little more animated than usual. If it keeps snowing like this, they might call it a half day and get to go home early. Taylor hopes that happens, that way she can order take-out and hang out with Mr. J. Maybe they can watch a movie together—something scary, so she has an excuse to cuddle up next to him, if he’ll let her. She’s been testing the boundaries of affection he’s willing to allow her to bestow, and recently she’s been surprised by how much she’s been able to get away with. Just last week she fell asleep next to him on the couch with her head on his shoulder—totally by accident—and he didn’t even move her. Just let her sleep there like that until she woke up, his hand heavy on her thigh, right above her knee, at which point she jumped up, all groggy and still rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She swore up and down that she was sorry, she’d never do it again. She was so afraid he’d be mad, but he just looked at her kind of funny, like he was trying not to laugh, and she blushed furiously and hurried off to her room.

Class is kind of boring, and it’s hard to focus when everyone seems just as distracted as she is. Mrs. Herndan has to stop her lesson twice just to tell everyone to be quiet and put their phones away. Taylor is snapped to attention each time she does. She didn’t even realize she had been staring at the window.

When the bell rings, Mrs. Herndan shouts out their homework assignment for the weekend, but it’s mostly lost to the din of jostling bodies and excited chatter of weekend plans as everyone fights to get through the door at once. Whatever. She’ll just have check the syllabus when she gets home. They’re reading Romeo and Juliet and it’s really hard to understand. Maybe she can find a way to rent a movie of it from the library—there’s supposed to be a version with Leonardo DiCaprio, she thinks. Maybe that’ll help. Sometimes she wants to ask Mr. J for help—and in the past she has, like when she had to make that volcano for science class, and he knew exactly what to do—but Romeo and Juliet is way too embarrassing. All those thees and thous, the declarations of love. Like she could ever ask Mr. J to interpret that for her, not without dying from embarrassment first.

She gets twenty minutes into her next class before they finally call it on the overhead speakers—school is closed. She smiles to herself as she packs up her books, already imagining herself curled up on the couch with her sketchbook and a cup of hot cocoa. She should still have some marshmallows left over—as long as Mr. J hasn’t eaten them all. He’s always eating her snacks. Sometimes, in a moment of pure frustration upon stumbling onto an empty bag or box of secret snacks she had stashed away specifically for herself, she tells him to buy his own snacks, but he always counters with, I did buy these, giving her a pointed look, and, yeah, he kinda did. It’s his money, after all. Not like she could buy any of this stuff without him.

She’s pulling the rest of her books from her locker and shoving them into her backpack when she feels a tap on her shoulder from behind. She turns around to face Jennifer Bartlett—from her geometry class—who is holds out a pink envelope decked in glitter and little metallic hearts.

“You’re inviiiiited,” she sings, thrusting the card into Taylor’s hands. Taylor blinks at her.

“Me?” she asks. Clearly this is some kind of mistake. Maybe a joke.

“It’s a sleepover, so bring a sleeping bag, okay? And like, don’t tell your mom or whatever, but my parents won’t be there, so make sure you just get dropped off in the driveway and none of your parents try to come inside.”

“Oh,” she says, her mind still swirling from the invite. A sleepover. “Okay.” She forces her gaping mouth shut, quickly nods, tries not to look too overeager. “Okay,” she says again, a little cooler, smiling a little. “I’ll totally be there.”

“Great!”

Jennifer bounds off down the hallway, joining a group of giggling girls waiting for her at the end, and Taylor looks down at the envelope in her hand, her name on it and everything. Taylor B.

She bites her lip and smiles.  

--

Taylor can’t get home fast enough.

The bus takes forever, and they have to divert into South Side because of an accident near Paramount Park.

When she finally hops off the school bus and bounds for home, perhaps she takes off a little faster than she should. One moment her backpack is bouncing behind her as she races down the sidewalk, and the next, she’s spread-eagled and lying flat on her back, staring up at the gray sky as snow drifts down in soft little clumps around her. Oof. That hurt. She didn’t hit her head—thankfully—but she managed to scrape her cheek on the icy pile of snow packed into a miniature wall along the edges of the sidewalk. She thinks her cheek might be bleeding.

She doesn’t know what’s more embarrassing: the fact that she fell, or that the bus driver didn’t stop to help.

She winces as she gets up, wipes the blood from her cheek, brushes the ice and snow from her hands, wipes her palms on her jeans. The bus hisses as it pulls away, and Taylor’s cheeks burn. Maybe no one saw?

Her right leg kind of hurts, and she hobbles the rest of the way home, her excitement not dampened as she crashes through the front door, making it halfway through the kitchen before she remembers to shimmy out of her wet boots. Her socks are wet—there was a lot of slush on the sidewalks the closer she got to home—and her feet leave little wet prints on the kitchen floor before she gets to the carpet. 

“Mr. J!”

He’s not in the living room, and he’s not in his bedroom, either, when she throws open the door and scans the bed, his empty desk. She frowns, pokes her head around the doorframe to her own bedroom. Not there, either.

“Mr. J?” She goes back to the beginning of the hallway, knocks eagerly on the closed bathroom door. She can see yellow light bleeding out from the crack beneath the door, doesn’t know how she missed that before. “Mr. J, you’ll never guess what happened at school today!” She waits a beat for him to say something—a grunt, even, some form of acknowledgement that he hears her, she’d take anything—but when she’s met with silence, she barrels on. “I got invited to a slumber party!” she gushes. She has both palms pressed flat against the door, is bouncing on the balls of her feet. “I ran all the way home to tell you, I can’t believe it!” she squeals. “It’s this Friday so we have to go to the store A-S-A-P so I can get a sleeping bag, okay? I mean—if it’s okay with you that I can go. But I’m sure it will be because I really want to go and I’ve never been to a sleepover before.” She sighs, taking a breath. He still hasn’t said anything, so she turns her back to the door and leans against it. He has to come out eventually. “And you won’t even have to worry about dropping me off because I can just take the bus, okay? I looked up Jennifer’s address at the library at school and I already wrote down how to get there, so I won’t get lost! Oh, and maybe I should get new PJs, too? And do you think that—”

The door is jerked open so suddenly she doesn’t have time to react, and she’s falling backwards before she can catch herself, straight into Mr. J’s chest.

He’s holding her underneath her arms, and she tilts her head back to look up at him—upside down—as he looks down at her. His greasepaint’s bright. Fresh-applied. She can smell its gummy texture.

She smiles up at him, a little unsure. A little frightened. His eyes are so dark. “Jeeze,” she says, lightly, trying to dissolve the tension. “You have to give me a warning, Mr. J.” She tries to laugh a little, but it comes out stilted, and the look he pins her with makes the smile slip right off her face.

“Maybe I would if I could get a word in,” he replies. He gets his arms behind her and pushes her off him. Taylor’s cheeks burn as she stumbles a few feet into the kitchen. She knows she talks a lot when she’s excited. She’s like a faucet that won’t turn off.

“Sorry,” she murmurs. She keeps her head low, a little afraid to meet his eyes. He’s in a bad mood—but she’s determined to go to this party either way, and she won’t stop prodding until he says yes. She glances up for just a second to catch the narrowing of his eyes, and then his hand is reaching out, closing around her jaw in a way that makes her flinch, pulling her towards him.

“What’s this?” he says. His eyes on her skin burn, and it makes the cut on her cheek throb in memory.

“It’s nothing,” she says, annoyed, maybe a little embarrassed. She doesn’t want to have to tell him that she slipped and fell. Also, can they please get back to talking about her slumber party? She impatiently reaches up and pries his hand off her—he lets her. She ventures a few steps back, watching him, and her back hits the counter with a thud. “But about the party—it’s okay if I go, right?”

He ignores her question in favor of taking a few lumbering steps closer—towering over her—and his fingers around her jaw are much softer this time when he takes it in his hand, tilts her head to the side so the cut on her cheek winks at him in the light that streaks out from the bathroom.

He sounds almost curious when he asks, “Did someone hit you?”

His question feels like a gut-punch. She looks up at him, eyes widening in surprise for a moment, and then her gaze narrows, and she’s a little more forceful this time when she pries his hand off her jaw.

“No,” she snaps. She can’t believe he thinks she got bullied. “I’m not a loser. I know how to fight back if I have to,” she scowls.  

He looks at her for a long moment, his eyes hard and calculating, but she makes a point to meet his stare head on. She’s not going to flinch away. After a beat, he grins a little—some secret smile, like he’s in on some joke she’s not privy to.

“Of course you do,” he says.

“So can I go to the slumber party or not?”

Mr. J raises his eyebrows as he thinks about it. “Dunno,” he says, “I seem to recall your last little, uh, party, didn’t end so hot. Maybe you remember,” he muses, leaning down low, so their faces are level, “—or maybe you don’t, since you were high as a fucking kite.”

Taylor balks at him—he never curses, at least not around her—and she can’t help the way her mouth parts in shock. She can feel the threads of hope she’d been clinging to rapidly slipping out of her hands.

Truthfully, there’s not a lot she remembers from that night. Just a bonfire and a stranger’s half-remembered bedroom. The weight of a body she hadn’t wanted, a frisson of fear, electric as it sizzled down her spine, and then fumbling down the stairs, out the front door. Nobody had even cared. And then the frigid moon, the icy bite of wind on her cheeks. She remembers Mr. J, at some point, and waking up in that old airplane hangar, where she’d promptly puked her guts out over the side of the couch. The rest of that night is a blur. It’s probably better that way.

“It’s not—” she stops. Tries to find her footing around the right set of words. She just wants this so badly. It’s her one opportunity to fit in. To make friends. To be somebody. She wants so desperately to try and explain it to him, make him understand how badly she needs this—but somehow she knows he won’t get it. He doesn’t care about fitting in, or being liked—he’s the most unliked person in all of Gotham. Maybe even the whole world.

“It won’t be like that this time,” she assures. “There won’t be any boys there. I promise. It’s just a girl party. And I promise I’ll be really, really good and come straight home after.”

Mr. J’s eyes are dark as he watches her plead her case, and she takes the opportunity to stick out her bottom lip and put on an exaggerated pout. “Pretty please?” she says. “With lots of sugar on top?”

The corner of his mouth curls into a grin. “Okay, baby doll. Since you asked so nicely.”

“Eeep!” She squeals in excitement, immediately perking up, diving forward to throw her arms around his waist. She gives him a squeeze and he surprises her by patting her back. Once. Twice. His display of affection makes her cheeks warm, and she squeezes him a little tighter, happy to bask in the moment. “Thank you, Mr. J.”

--

Taylor buys a new set of jammies and a sleeping bag. She even spends the whole day prior reading about sleepovers, Googling at the library, getting more and more excited. She wonders if they’ll do face masks, or have a pillow fight, or watch a romantic movie, or paint each other’s nails? 

She goes to Mr. J to model her new PJs for him, a yellow top with tiny blue flowers, with little matching shorts and a scalloped hem. She is bouncing around his bedroom—she had a Red Bull earlier for the first time ever, and whoa—and she does a cartwheel on the bed once she has his attention, collapsing into a heap on the floor because she misjudged the distance. She giggles, and then uses the bed to pull herself up while she prances around the room and chatters about her slumber party. She has a little notepad she found in a drawer in the kitchen, and after a few minutes, she flops back on his bed, holding the notepad above her face. She’s making a list of all the stuff she might need to bring. She read online that sometimes you should bring snacks. 

“Hey Mr. J, cookies or chips?” she asks.

She turns to lay on her side, facing him, where he’s seated in his desk chair and has spun around to watch her, his fingers drumming against the armrests. His eyes are dark—but he doesn’t give her an answer. 

She scowls at his lack of participation, and redirects her attention back to her list, tapping her pencil against her lips.

“Hmm… sometimes cookies have peanut butter, even if they say don’t, and I know lots of people have peanut allergies, sooooo… I’ll go with chips,” she decides, resolute. Her tongue pokes out when she makes a careful, neat checkmark next to the word chips.

She crawls off the bed and skips around the room for a little while longer, clutching her notepad, chattering to herself, mostly. She plays with the books on the bookshelf, all the little knickknacks left behind by the previous owner, rearranging them while she talks, musing about how cool this party’s gonna be, how many friends she’s gonna make. It’s gonna be great.

She lays down on the floor to make some snow-angels on the carpet, flapping her arms and legs slowly, staring up at the ceiling, feeling her energy start to wane. She asks Mr. J if he thinks she should wear her regular clothes to the party, or if she should come dressed in her PJs? And doesn’t he think they’re really pretty? And her sleeping bag comes with a built-in pillow, and isn’t that super cool?

She jolts awake when a pair of arms slip underneath her, hoisting her up, off the floor. She must have fallen asleep.

She frantically blinks the sleep back from her eyes. It’s dark, and she can’t see. “What day is it?” she asks, panicked, her voice cracking. “Is it tomorrow yet? Did I miss the party?”

“Shhh.” Mr. J carries her the short distance to his bed, lowers her to the mattress even as she wraps her arms around his neck, refusing to be put down. She doesn’t even have the forethought to marvel over the fact that he’s just put her in his bed, that she’s lying down on his pillow, or that the covers smell like him. 

“But did I miss it? Is it over?”

She thinks she can hear a smirk in his voice when he says, “No, baby doll, you didn’t miss it. Time to sleep.”

He peels her arms away from his neck, and this time she lets him. She sinks into the mattress, and sinks quickly back into sleep. 

[tact-and-impulse]

@shepherds-of-haven, I took the ‘insatiable’ prompt in the direction of ‘thirst for knowledge...and maybe a god’.

incandescent

“Sure, manuscripts are acceptable offerings, but if you really want to pass all your exams, you have to write something interesting enough to earn Liefred’s favor.”

That was the sage advice handed down by the graduating class, so she’s going to listen to it. The academy’s incredibly traditional, and although the first round of tests is rapidly approaching, she hasn’t quite adjusted. Multiple times, her essays have been returned with blue ink, deducting points for not adhering to the rigid formatting her instructors expect. It’s very annoying, which is why she needs to excel on her exams. Besides, she’s curious as to what would count as ‘interesting enough’ for the god of knowledge and learning. 

Liefred is a young god, technically an ascended mortal from the previous age. Supposedly, he was an accomplished teacher and explorer, who died young in one of the Little Wars, the civil disputes that threatened to tear apart the nation. The myths of him are sparse, mostly related to his aid and rewarding of true seekers of knowledge. There’s a statue of him, in the academy’s foyer. His figure and face are shrouded in windblown cloth, as he lifts a candle in an obvious metaphor for illuminating the mysteries of the world. It’s kind of ironic, considering his appearance is completely hidden. Maybe, they should have hired a better sculptor.

In her tiny dormitory room, there’s only the sound of her quill scritching as she transcribes the summary of her latest paper. Over the years, the caravan had uncovered strange objects, scattered throughout the usual route, but she had challenged herself with thoroughly cataloguing them. Some of the objects were similar, made of metal and cords. Others appeared to be much older and unrelated, but still unusually made. Unfortunately, the academy is disinterested, refusing to investigate further. There’s no guarantee that the god will listen to her, but at the very least, it might entertain him. Folding it into a square, she signs her name in one corner. Then, she feeds it to the lantern on her desk, watching the paper blacken and crumble into ash.

She clasps her hands together and fervently prays. For luck, for remembering what she’s studied so far, for good grades. It’s close to midnight, and too tired to open her books again, she gets ready for bed. She blows at the flame, as she usually does to extinguish it. It wavers but doesn’t go out. Another deep exhale and it’s still lit. Weird. There’s a little water left in her cup and she empties it onto the wick. The flame persists and if anything, it’s increased in intensity. She can’t look directly at the light, her eyes automatically squeezing shut. 

“Do you have any of these items with you?!” The voice is masculine, and that’s definitely out of place. The male students are housed on the opposite end of the dorms. And she didn’t hear anyone knock…

She forces herself to see the intruder, and the lantern’s gone out. Instead, there’s a man, with shockingly red hair and a faint glow about his countenance. He’s not wearing the academy uniform, but a proper set of crimson robes with flowing sleeves and a gold-tasseled belt. His chiseled features break into a smile, as he taps a familiar square of paper.

“These objects you described, we called them ‘machines’, but they were dismantled for parts in the war. I tried to save what I could, to preserve them.” His gaze becomes misty, with longing.

“Uh...are you Liefred?”

“Hm? Oh, sorry, I forgot to introduce myself.” He sweeps one arm forth, then elegantly bows at the waist. He smiles benevolently at her. “Liefred, the Eternal Scholar. I received your offering, and I thank you immensely.”

Her mind spins with questions. “So, you’re the actual god. You can appear to mortals, just like that?!”

“Well, it usually takes effort, and I don’t want to show any favoritism.” He nervously rubs the nape of his neck, the simple motion reminding her that he used to be a normal person. “If any of my priests find out-”

“You got it, my lips are sealed.”

“I appreciate that.” He releases a sigh, as he stands upright again.

She grins. “It’s no problem! I’m glad you took me seriously, unlike everyone else here at the academy. I grew up wayfaring, and my clan found a number of these...machines? We had no idea what they were, let alone that they were so important to you. Did you make them?”

“No, I only spearheaded the excavations. In fact, I have no idea what they do. My peers thought they were relics, but I disagreed. I believe they’re from another realm.”

“Another realm? But you’re a god, aren’t you in charge of every realm?”

“Gods rely on faith. I only exist and am aware of the places that believe in me.” He then adds. “We gods are also not as omnipotent as you think. I may know slightly more than a mortal, but even I’m still learning.”

“Eternal scholar, indeed.” She muses, before remembering his first question. “I don’t have any of the parts on me, but I can send a letter to my clan and have them mail it to me. Unless, you have the ability to teleport.”

“That depends. Does anyone in your clan have a shrine to me?”

“No, we worship the nature deities mostly, for fair weather. But when I’m done with my exams, I can beg them to send what they have.”

“Please.” Just as he says that, he shakes his head. “No, wait. If they’ve been protecting the machines for as long as you said, I have no cause to worry. Now, onto the real business.” He positions his hands before him, interlocking and turning. The paper square is turning over his knuckles, like he can sense what’s written inside just by the deceptively idle motion. His loose sleeves drop, and she can’t resist looking at his sturdy forearms. “I’ll answer your prayer. I can’t drastically change your luck, but from what I can tell, I don’t have to. Overall, you’re prepared, you just need to believe in yourself.”

“Is that it?” She gives a hollow laugh. “Guess the academy life’s messing with my head.”

“I’ve noticed the academy’s courses are more difficult with each year.” He sympathizes and claps once, causing her paper to vanish. Back to the realm of gods, perhaps. How many essays has he saved?

“Can’t you send a vision to your priests, to cut us some slack?”

“I think you’re the first mortal to suggest that to me.” But he’s in a good mood, and he takes her ink-stained right hand. He’s warm and comforting, just like a candle. “I’ll see what I can do. That’s what gods are for, right?”

“Right.” They exchange smiles, and when she blinks, he’s gone. She does feel better though, and there’s one thing she knows for sure. The academy definitely needs to redo his sculpture; what’s the point if it doesn’t capture how attractive he is?

[bobbyshawsupremacy]

‘tis the season

for @thesevenumbrellas birthday!!! you said willex fluff, and willex fluff it is

There was a soft knocking noise, and Alex rolled over, squinting. His room laid cold and dark and empty. Probably just the-

Oh.

Oh, Jesus.

He was out of bed in a moment, scrambling across the room, and yanked his window open, pushing it up. “What the fuck?” he hissed. “What are you doing, oh my God-”

Willie grinned at him, that familiar sharp smile that always tugged Alex into whatever the hell he wanted. “Hey, Al,” he greeted easily, as if it weren’t midnight and he weren’t dangling outside Alex’s window in the snow without a fucking coat on. “How’s it hanging?”

“I hate you,” Alex said flatly. “I hate you. You’re absolutely terrible-” He helped heave Willie in, brushing at his shoulders with a frown. “You’re going to catch your death,” he hissed. He tugged at Willie’s shirt to straighten it out. “You’re an absolute disaster, do you ever use your brain-”

“Alex.” Willie grabbed his face. “Alex. I’m totally okay.” Alex froze, staring at him. The room was still cold and dark and empty, still just another room with boring wooden paneling in another suburban house with a copied floor plan, but something about Willie’s eyes flooded it with light, and suddenly it was warm and bright and full of the both of them, full of the entire world in the few scant inches between them.

Alex’s hands twitched in Willie’s shirt, and he swallowed hard. “Still worried,” he replied, although his voice had lost a bit of its emphasis. Willie hummed, his thumbs rubbing over Alex’s cheeks. His face was soft. Open. Alex could fall into it, if only he leant forward-

Nope. No. No. Definitely not. He tugged himself back and pulled his scowl back on. “You’re an absolute idiot.”

“Mhm.” Willie still looked completely at ease as he reeled an arm around Alex’s waist and reeled him in so that their chests were pressed together. “Don’t let go, I’m cold,” he added, pouting. Alex meant to protest, but Willie was warm and solid and touching him tasted so sweet, so his words turned into a sigh and he wrapped his arms around his friend, holding him tight. Willie’s head laid onto his shoulder, breath ghosting over Alex’s neck. “You feel so nice,” he murmured.

Alex forced out a laugh, even if it was a bit choked. “You’re totally okay, huh?”

“Maybe I just wanted a hug.”

“Well…” he sighed again and tightened his grip. “That’s okay, I guess.”

Willie hummed. His head tilted a bit more, his cold nose pressing into the crook of Alex’s neck. His lips were on Alex’s collarbone as he murmured, “You give the best hugs,” and Alex couldn’t breathe.

They stayed like that for a while- maybe a minute, maybe an eternity, hovering together in the bright dark frigid warmth of Alex’s room, locked together with the wind still open, Willie’s lips sending shocks through Alex’s skin and bones. He let his eyes drift closed, enjoying the feeling of someone in his arms, enjoying the feeling of Willie sagging almost bonelessly into him, giving all his tension away in favour of Alex’s arms. This was a dangerous game, but he’d never felt this safe. He’d held home this close to his heart before.

Eventually, Willie pulled back to look up at him with those sparkling eyes that doomed him in the first place. “I didn’t just come for hugs,” he admitted. “Come on, I’ve got something to show you.”

“Now?”

“Yeah!” Willie tugged his hand. “Let’s go!”

“But-” Alex’s head spun slightly. “It’s midnight, and my pajamas, and the snow-”

Willie tightened his grip and fixed Alex with a pout. “But Al,” he whined. “I came all the way here, just to get you, and I want you to come so bad.” His pout deepened. “Please?” Alex lasted for all of two seconds before he caved. He did shove his Vans on first, though. Together, they clambered out the window, making it slowly down to the snowy ground. Alex shivered.

Willie noticed and slung an arm around his shoulders. “Don’t worry,” he said cheerfully. “I brought my car. It’s around the corner. Didn’t wanna wake your parents.”

Alex laughed, though the sound was shaking with cold, and leaned heavily into Willie’s side. “My genius,” he joked. Instant regret flooded him, because he’s not yours, dumbass, but Willie just laughed and grinned at him. The stars and the sun were still in his eyes.

The car was warmer, but not by much, and Alex spent several minutes grumbling and trying to wrap himself up into as small a ball as possible before he noticed the route they were taking. “Wait…” he peered out the window suspiciously, and then back at Willie. “Are you…” Willie did not answer, just kept smiling until they pulled to a stop. “You brought me… here?” Alex squinted at him. “So when you said you had something to show me… you meant your house? Dude, I’ve seen your house.”

Willie laughed, reaching over to squeeze his hand. “Hey, I’m more creative than that,” he defended. “I know, uh-” he shrugged. “I know it’s been kinda hard for you, moving here, making new friends and stuff, and I know you miss California, but… you’ll always have me, you know that, right?”

Alex blinked. “I- yeah. I know.” He shifted to face Willie a little more, frowning slightly. “What’s all this about?” he asked, still slightly wary but mostly warm, full of a content that swelled through his bones.

Willie smiled. It was a touch nervous, Alex noticed, which was odd. Willie was rarely nervous. “Well, just-” he fidgeted for just a moment before jerking his head towards the house. “Come on, let’s go.” Alex followed him up to the front door, mind churning. What the hell kind of twist was Willie pulling this time?

The click of the door shutting echoed loudly. “Are your parents asleep?” he asked, keeping his voice soft in case they were.

Willie fidgeted slightly. “Um… no, not exactly,” he admitted. “Just…” he took a deep breath. “Come with me?” He held out his hand hopefully, and- well, it was Willie. What could Alex do but take it? He led him into the living room and pushed him into the armchair- literally pushed, Alex went tumbling into it and had to right himself with a grumble- before assuming a place in front of him with his arms clutched around himself, rubbing at his own arm with his thumb.

“Hey,” Alex said. He reached up to lay a hand over Willie’s. “Don’t be scared. Whatever this is, it’s okay.”

Willie smiled faintly and twined their fingers together. “That’s the thing,” he said softly. “It’s… you know, it’s always okay with you.” Alex blinked. He went to open his mouth, but Willie cut him off. “Don’t say anything. Please. Not until I finish.” He took a deep breath and squeezed Alex’s hand once before dropping it. “I, William Jarah River Covington,” he began, which was an odd enough beginning to have Alex reeling already, “Hereby swear that I am going to give you, Alexander Inez Mercer, the best fuckin’ Christmas of your entire life. But-” he paused. Took another deep breath. “I also swear,” he started again, his voice shaking a little, “That every year, till you don’t want me to anymore, I’m gonna keep trying to make it the best. And I’m gonna keep trying to make it better. Every single time. I’m gonna figure out your favourite foods and how to make them, and I’m gonna figure out your favourite Christmas songs and find the prettiest versions of them to play, and I’m gonna buy you the best gift I can, and-” his fingers locked together tightly, his eyes bright and insistent on Alex’s even as his vice wavered. “And I’m gonna make it all happen,” he promised, “Because I care about you so, so fucking much, and I’m gonna do it all standing right by your side, holding your hand, and making sure you know that you make everything in my life better. Making sure that you know you’re the best gift I could possibly get.”

Alex’s breath had caught in his chest, thick and stuck and keeping him in place, mouth half open, hands trembling slightly on the arms of the armchair. He let out a little squeaking noise, trying to shift forward, trying to reach out to Willie, but his body refused, still stuck processing.

Willie swallowed hard. “I just want you to know that you can always come to me if you want to come home for Christmas,” he finished quietly, and that was what it took to launch Alex up out of the chair, flinging himself into Willie’s arms.

“I don’t know what to say,” he half-gasped into his neck. “I- God, Willie, I don’t even-”

“Please, just-” Willie pushed him back by the shoulders. “I, uh. You do know how gay I sounded, right?” His voice was spiked with worry. “And you gotta know, like, you gotta know that was intentional.”

Alex reached up to cup Willie’s face. “Willie,” he breathed. “I know. I know. I-” he didn’t get to finish his sentence, because Willie was surging forward, and there they were, kissing at midnight, his hands on Willie’s face and Willie’s chest pressed up against his, and it was clumsy but it was sweet and perfect and full of an adoration Alex had never tasted before. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Willie kissed him again. “Don’t thank me,” he whispered. “You know I’d do anything for you.”

And right now, being held like a treasure, staring into the sun and stars and moon that hovered in Willie’s eyes, standing a room that wasn’t cold or dark or empty, where he was coveted and covered and not alone- yeah. Right now, Alex can believe that pretty damn well.

[itsjustmyfantasyroom]

Unloveable

So I was meant to be finished writing till the new year, but after reading @teamsladsandgents​ sexy little Sonny stripper fic this morning it planted this idea and I couldn’t push Nick away cause he needs all the love so here you go. So thanks lovely x

Warnings: SVU crimes, mentions of assault, under cover, guns and of course roughish smut.    

WC: 1877

Enjoy x

Nick seen the unimpressed look on Fin face as he stood at the bottom of the stairs before he seen you bounce down the steps of the 12th precinct and he was glad he was in the squad car alone as he felt himself harden and he groaned looking at you. You had always been an amazing partner and friend. You had been there for him during his divorce on the good and bad days and you had stepped up as an amazing “Aunty” to Zara and Gil. You would look after them at the station even if you had a full load of work yourself and had them on weekends along with Noah if something came in and Liv could do without you so you could watch the kids. You always knew what to say when he needed it and the hugs, touches and soft looks you gave him to defuse him was just what he needed.

He hadn’t thought his feeling for you crossed into something else till tonight. There had been a perp attacking foot patrol uniforms. The perp would stalk partners that one was older and one younger, knocking out the older partner and assaulting the younger one, the attacks had happened twice, with an almost a third. Amanda was out on personal leave, so it was left to you and Fin to go undercover at the 12th to try and catch the perp red handed.

Nick had seen you in multiple outfits over the years, including your pj’s. He had always thought you were beautiful, but when he seen you bounce down the stairs in your full uniform. Your shirt fitting to your body accentuating your breast and your waist. Your pants just tight enough to show off the curves of your ass. Your hair pulled back in a low bun with your hat and your police duty belt around your hips, he had never seen you look so beautiful and it stirred up feelings that he didn’t really let himself admit he had for you till now.

You and Fin had walked a couple of blocks after getting a coffee walking down a dark street, Nick following you guys in the car close behind. You had spoken to Nick over your cuff piece and forgot to turn off the microphone after you finished talking to him,

“Tell me Y/N” Fin looked over at you “You haven’t been with anyone since you started working with us-Why are you single?”

You giggled and took a big sip of coffee emptying the cup,

“The last guy broke my heart. Told me I was unloveable. Guess those words have always stuck with me, I have never gotten over him telling me that” you sighed throwing the cup in the bin.

“Want me to beat him?”

“Thanks Dad but I’ am ok, just doing my thing ya know”

Nick over heard the conversation as he drove down the street passed you guys as you walked and his heart sunk listening to you talk. You had always been there for him with everything when you had been dealing with your own demons all this time. He felt ashamed at how selfish he had been when he was pulled out of his self-pity seeing a guy with a hoodie making his way towards you guys from behind, matching the description you were all given. Nick jumped on his radio signalling Liv and Sonny to move in and he jumped out of the car after throwing it into park running up behind the perp when you heard his voice in your ear piece,

“Turn around and draw your weapon.”

You reached for your gun pulling it out and spun around standing to shield Fin catching the perp holding a metal bar up above his head your gun pointed to him and he went to swing the bar at you.

“Stop Police” Nick ran up behind the perp grabbing his arm knocking the bar out of his hand twisting his wrist behind his back and Sonny and Liv running up behind you. Sonny walked over to Nick to help him cuff the perp then walked him to a squad car throwing him in the back. You were talking to Liv and Fin when Nick walked up and grabbed your shoulder,

“You ok?” Nick looked over you to make sure you weren’t hurt.

“Yeah he didn’t touch me, you got there in time. Thank you.” You smiled at Nick.

“Amaro, take Y/N home. Fin and I will take the questioning. See you guys tomorrow”

“Thanks Liv” you said goodnight to everyone and followed Nick to his car taking off your belt and throwing it in your bag in the back before climbing in the front.

The short drive to you apartment was mostly quite as you took off your hat and pulled out your bun, your hair falling around you in soft waves. Nick tried not to let you notice him watching between you and the road till he seen you pull your shirt of your pants and he moaned slightly adjusting to straighten up in his seat clearing his throat,

“You ok over there?”

“Yeah” Nick gave you his famous grin.

“Thanks for having my back tonight”

“Anytime Y/N, I would never let anything happen to you- You’re too important to me” Nick pulled into a car spot next to your building.

“Come up for a drink?” you grabbed his arm.

You were standing at kitchen bench after pouring two glasses of wine. Nick watched you intently from the stool he was sitting on as you undone your police shirt buttons leaving it hanging to show your black tank top.

“Why didn’t you talk to me about it?” Nick was looking deep into your eyes.

“What are you talking about?” You moved to come and sit on the stool next to Nick.

“You have been hurting all this time and you never talk to me about it” You could see Nick’s face starting to harden “You don’t trust me?”

You grabbed onto his hand and squeezed it as he turned his head slowly to look at you with a small smile on your face,

“Don’t do that, you know that’s not true. I trust you with everything. It happened so long ago- just before I started at SVU. I’ am over it mostly, I didn’t need to talk about it. You had so much more going on”

Nick stood up off his stool grabbing your knees turning you to face him on the stool. He pushed your knees apart so he could stand between them. One hand went to the back of your neck and the other so your chin was between his thumb and pointer finger, his eyes were almost black and you couldn’t read them till you felt his hard length pressing into your clothed core,

“You are so loveable, that asshole didn’t know what he had. You remember that mi entiendes? You get those words out of your head now and I never want you to think of them again, ok?”

“I-“

“Mi entiendes Y/N? I mean it- I’ am going to show you just how loveable you are”

Nick pulled you to him by your neck, his lips moulding with yours so perfectly, and your tongues pushing into each other mouths. You moaned into Nick’s mouth and he smiled into yours pulling back resting his forehead on yours,

“I have wanted-“

“Me too” Nick pecked your lips running his hands over your clothed sides, pulling you into him, you arching your body into his, your arms wrapping around his neck, your legs around his waist. Nick lent forward kissing your neck making his way up to you ear, you pushing your hips into him “First I’ am going to fuck you so good you won’t be able to walk tomorrow and then I’ am going to prove to you how loveable you are.”

You gasp as Nick grabbed hold of your ass picking you up carrying you to your bedroom throwing you on the bed. You sat up ripping off your uniform throwing it on the floor, Nick doing the same standing there naked in front of you. Your eyes racked his solid body down to his hard cock, and your squeezed your legs together your arousal dripping out of you biting your bottom lip.

“I- Wow Nick”

Nick walked to the edge of the bed pushing you down by your shoulders climbing on top of you, his mouth taking a nipple into his mouth sucking it between his lips, then doing the same on the other side. Your fingers threaded into his hair and you moaned arching up into his body moaning.

“Do I turn you on?” Nick’s voice was thick with lust as he licked a strip from the base of your neck up to your ear.

“So- so much” you whimpered as Nick thrusted his hips into your core.

“You are all mine now mi Amor, you will never feel unloveable again”

Your eyes locked with each other’s, your hands moving to cup his cheeks

“You’re all mine?” You said above a whisper “Finally” you scoffed playfully, Nick chuckled lining himself to your core

“Finally mi Amor” Nick kissed your chin “I’ am clean, but are you on anything?”

You nodded “The pill and clean”

Nick growled, grabbing your hands and pinning them above your head, his other hand moving between you both holding himself steady to slide into you. You screamed slightly at how good he felt stretching you. Nick bottomed out leaning down to kiss you deeply his grip on your wrists tightening as he started to roll his hips into you, your legs moving to wrap around his middle bringing your hips up to his hard and fast.

“You’re so beautiful” Nick looked down at you with hooded eyes, your jaw going slack as your release built super fast.

“You make me feel amazing Nick” you moaned when you felt Nick’s thumb on your clit rolling over it.

The room had nothing but heavy breaths, moaning, groaning and skin slapping skin bouncing off the walls. You arched your back slamming your hips up screaming ‘Nick’ almost breathless as your release bolted through you coming hard around him. You kept your hips up as best as you could with your wobbly legs as Nick thrusted into you hard his seed painting your walls grunting your name and Spanish swear words leaving his lips, his back arched back and jaw slack.

Nick finally let go of your arms and you moved them straight away to wrap them around Nick’s neck pulling him in for a deep rough kiss.

“Thank you” you said breathless kissing Nick’s cheek.

“For what?” Nick rolled off you pulling you onto his chest.

“For making me feel wanted, I understand if you don’t want to-”

Nick’s pointer finger moved to your lips to hush you,

“I told you Y/N your mine now, but since you’re a bad girl and didn’t listen to me” Nick rolled you onto your back getting between your legs again feeling him semi hard already “I better fuck you again and show you tomorrow just how loved you are and hopefully it will sink in”    

 Tags: @the-baby-bookworm​ @beccabarba​ @thatesqcrush​ @permanentlydizzy​ @amorestevens

[everybodyscupoftea]

birthday sex

college jj x reader

part 4 of the plug, exactly what it says on the tin

yeehaw baby

gave up on plug titles because the person who requested this gave me permission :)

parts: 1 2 3

(i did keep some gif consistency though)

warnings: cursing, nsfw

You were baking cupcakes when JJ got home from work. He dropped his booksack by the door and walked into the kitchen, hands shoved in his pockets. Not looking up from what you were doing, you asked, “How was work?”

JJ shrugged, “It was alright, normal shift. Minus the extra free drink for my birthday.”

You laughed, “The greatest gift, truly, free caffeine.”

“Would’ve been more fun if you still worked the shift with me.”

With an apologetic shrug, you told him, “Sorry, study group seems more important.”

Pulling his hands out of his pockets, he walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. You hummed in response and tried to keep your focus on pouring the batter into the cups. JJ started rocking the two of you back and forth, and you tried to nudge him away when some of it spilled.

“J,” you whined when he refused to move, “these are for you, don’t make me fuck them up.”

He buried his face in your shoulder and you felt his lips quirk up in a smile. Moving his face for a few seconds, he told you, “Well, I don’t need cupcakes when I have you.”

“Cheesy,” you teased, finally pulling away to put the cupcakes in the oven.

Leaning back against the counter, he gave you a little half smile before saying, “Only for you, baby.”

You walked across the room, pressing both of your hands on his chest and rising up on your toes to kiss him. JJ’s hands came around your back, and he kissed you back happily, leaning back slightly so that you had no choice but to step forward to keep your lips attached to his.

Before you could process, he moved his hands to your hips and spun you around, pressing you into the counter. JJ whispered, “Jump,” between kisses and helped you up onto the counter. You instinctively spread your legs, allowing him to step between them and pull you closer to the edge so you were balanced precariously, mostly counting on him to keep you upright.

When his hand started to wander down your side, you grabbed it and pulled it to your side. JJ groaned a little, pulling away to rest his forehead on your shoulder. Before you could say anything, he whined, “Why not?”

“The cupcakes will burn,” you reminded him, running your fingers through his hair a few times, laughing as he leaned into it.

“Fuck the cupcakes.”

You laughed and pushed his shoulder, “No, I told you, they’re for your birthday.”

“What’s for dinner then?”

“I DoorDash’d po-boys, they’re on the way.”

He groaned, “Okay, that’s worth the wait.”

Just as he finished speaking, there was a knock at the door and you nodded toward it, “Guess someone let him in, you wanna grab that and I’ll get some plates.”

JJ groaned as if he was terribly inconvenienced and pouted at you over his shoulder until he disappeared from the kitchen. You heard him conversing with the delivery girl and grabbed some plates out of the cabinet.

When he got back with the bag, you took it and pulled out the food, arranging them on the plates and then walked around the counter to sit at the bar stools. JJ sat next to you, and the two of you ate in relative silence, his left hand resting on your thigh as some sort of reminder of what was to come that night.

“How about we make a deal,” you offered.

JJ cocked his head to the side, “I’m listening.”

“We’ll do whatever you want while the cupcakes cool. After we finish, I’ll come back and frost them for you.”

Shoving his empty plate to the side, JJ nodded eagerly, “I’m down.”

You giggled, taking the last bite of your po-boy as the timer for the cupcakes went off. He took them out of the oven and grabbed your hand, pulling you toward the bedroom.

When you got there, you were ahead of him and you spun around, pulling him in by his t-shirt to kiss you again. JJ responded eagerly and kept backing you up until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed and you pulled away, falling back with a gasp.

You moved back, still pulling JJ by his shirt to follow you, and he crawled after you. Knocking the inside of one of his elbows, his arm buckled and he collapsed on top of you. You giggled and he grinned, pressing playful kisses all over your face.

“Got me where you want me, huh sweetheart?”

“Maybe,” you told him playfully before pressing up and twisted, surprising him enough that he flopped over onto his back and you were able to climb on top. Sweeping a strand of hair off his forehead, you leaned down, lips hovering over his, “Now I do.”

JJ chuckled and pulled you down the last few centimeters. His hand wandered up your thigh to the edge of your shirt and started pulling it up. You broke away and he pulled it all the way off, hands immediately coming back to the clasp of your bra to get rid of that too.

You sat all the way up and tugged at his shirt until he got the hint and took it off, tossing it to the floor with yours. When it was gone, JJ reached up and ran his thumb over your nipple, causing you to grind your hips against him, happy when you felt him hard in his pants. You rocked your hips again and he let out a shaky breath, lifting his chin to kiss you.

Pulling away from your lips, he leaned forward and kissed between your breasts, lips trailing to the side to take one of your nipples into his warm mouth, laving his tongue against it with a hum. You ground your lips down again and moved your hands to his hair, holding his head close. He pulled gently, moving to your other breast, his fingers reaching up to replace his mouth on your other nipple while he repeated his ministrations on the other side.

You reached down, rubbing him firmly through his shorts, and he hissed, pulling away. With him distracted, you quickly unbuttoned his shorts and moved your hand into his underwear so you were finally touching him without a barrier.

JJ reached down and tugged your hand away, “You first, sweetheart.”

“But it’s your birthday,” you whined, unhappy.

“So it’s my decision,” he told you, gently pushing your shoulders until you were forced to climb off of him and sit in the middle of the bed.

He sat up and spread your legs, reaching out to help you slide your shorts and underwear down your legs before throwing them the same direction as your shirts. You hissed at the cold air and he moved a hand down, one of his fingers tracing lightly through your wetness before dipping into you.

Your eyes fluttered and you reached down to grip his wrist, holding it tightly while he pumped his finger in and out, reaching with your other hand to start circling your clit at the same speed he was moving. Before you could ask, he added a second finger, the ring on it pressing the edge of your entrance and you groaned loudly.

Finger still circling your clit, you whimpered out, “I’m close.” JJ pulled your hand away and bent down, replacing it with his mouth. His lips closed around your clit, sucking lightly, as his fingers kept moving. Your toes curled and goosebumps rose on your arms as you came, grinding toward his mouth, overwhelmed. He licked you through it, only stopping when you pulled him away by his hair.

JJ sat up, licking his fingers clean with a smirk. You breathed heavily, trying to recover, and shoved him until he fell onto his back. Moving to straddle him, you took his cock into your hand and leaned forward to pepper soft kisses along his jawline. JJ’s hands slid up your thighs and he helped you sit up to put the condom on he’d grabbed out of the nightstand and then lower yourself onto him.

JJ’s face twisted in pleasure and his hands tightened on your thighs as you started to rock once you were fully seated. His rings were cold against your thighs as you rose, easing yourself back down, repeating it several times before he started thrusting his hips to meet yours.

He shut his eyes, brows knitted together and mouth slightly ajar as you put your hands on his chest, using it to balance yourself as you picked up momentum. JJ’s eyes fluttered open at your moan and he reached down, circling your clit with his fingertip again.

“Are you close?” you asked, feeling your own climax getting closer.

“Yeah,” his voice was raspy, “want you to come first though.”

You knew better than to argue and pulled at his wrist to get him to speed up against your clit. Letting go of his wrist, you moved your hands to his shoulders for balance and ground down a few more times before tightening around him and coming, arms giving out.

JJ’s hands went around your back and he thrust a few more times before he was coming with a groan. His body went limp under you and your pressed a kiss to his sweaty forehead.

He chuckled breathlessly, “Happy birthday to me, eh?”

You stroked your fingers across his jaw and he grabbed your hand, linking your fingers together. With a hum, you told him, “Glad you’ve had a good birthday.”

He kissed you with a grin before adding, “Well now that I’ve worked up an appetite, is it time for cupcakes?”

Rising up to let him slide out, you moved off of him with a groan, “How about we clean up and go frost them.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

[tlou2holland]

Joel x Reader (Pt2)

Summary: After patrol, you catch a cold and Joel takes care of you.You meet up with Ellie, and talk with her. 

you can read the previous part here: Pt 1

Tommy, Seth, Joel and You are riding along the village, no words exchanged. All of you are tired and cold, covered in dirt and blood that mostly wasn’t your own. After Joel and you cleaned the supermarket and found some snacks and towels to take back with you, you met with the others as planned. Seth and Tommy were even more unlucky than you and had to deal with a small horde of clickers. Accordingly bad is the mood, and even Seth shuts up for once. “Hey Y/N?“ Tommy slows down his horse and falls into the same step as you. “Yeah?“ You answer scratching your neck, voice a little hoarse. “Are you alright?“ Tommy points to your face and you raise an eyebrow. “What do you mean?“ You touch your chin and cheek, but don’t feel anything. “It looks like you got a rash or something.“ Tommy shrugs his shoulders and you almost choke on your own spit, looking over to Joel. He has a little smirk but doesn’t look at you. “Oh, I think its from wearing the mask for so long. I bet it is gone tomorrow.“ You laugh shyly and Tommy looks at Joel, then back at you. “If you say so.“ You don’t respond to that, but slow down your horse a little so you fall back. You sigh, and touch your lips. They are still sensitive, and so is the area around it. You send some silent prayers to whoever might listen, that your skin will calm down before you make it back to Jackson. Tommy can be fooled, but your friends? Jesse would tease the shit out of you and so would Dina. Ellie wouldn’t be too amused tho, or would she be okay with it? You anxiously bite your nails, what have you done?

“Don´t get too lost back there.“ Joels deep voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you ignore the tingling in your chest. “I´m coming.“ You pull the strings of your sweater tight and hurry to get back to the group. “Jesse won’t believe me when I tell him what he missed out on.“ You joke to lighten the mood, and Joel chuckles. “So you enjoyed what happened today?“ He looks at you with his hazel eyes and you wish to lean over and wipe this little smirk off his face. “only some parts.“ You say blushing, catching a quick glimpse of Joels lips. They look rough but felt so soft, you must give the man some credit for his kissing skills.         “Me too.“Joel winks at you and turns his head back to the front, ending the conversation. Your mouth parts and closes again, was he teasing you? “Oh boy.“ You mumble, sinking deeper into the saddle and hiding your chin beneath the collar of your jacket. Chewing on the zipper, you start counting the remaining traffic signs you pass on your way back. It ain’t many, but enough to occupy your mind until the familiar gates of Jackson come into view. 

“Finally! I thought something happened to you guys.“ Maria stands in front of the gate, worryingly checking her husband for any injuries. Tommy just laughs at that and climbs off his horse with a loud thud. “You have no idea. I´m done with patrolling for the rest of the week.“ He shakes his head and greets Maria with a kiss, cupping her bum until she swats his hand away. “Y/N, next time you change your assignment with Jesse, please let me know. He didn’t tell me and I send some people looking for you. We were all worried sick.“ She points her finger at you but lowers it seconds later, her gaze softening. “I am sorry, it won’t happen again.“ You apologize and get off your horse, bum and legs feeling sore while your feet prickle uncomfortably at the sudden movement. You shuffle from one foot to the other, while wringing the rein in your hands. “I´ll go and rest a bit, see you all later.“ You awkwardly look between Joel and Maria and leave before either can say another word. You are tired and cold, and just want to be alone for some hours. Your horse looks tired too, and you gently pet his neck while bringing it back into the stalls. “See you tomorrow, lovely.“ You give it over to one of the stable boys and quickly cross Jackons Alleys, keeping your head down and taking the shortest route to your home. “Finally.“ With a distressed sigh, you push the door to your home open and step inside. You groan when your heavy backpack hits the floor and your neck and shoulders can finally move again. Removing your dirty clothes, you slip into more comfortable ones and prepare some hot water on the stove. You wait for it to form its first bubbles, then you slide the pot onto the counter and grab a nearby cloth. The water is comfortably warm on your skin as you begin to wash the dried blood and dirt from your hands and face. Wringing the cloth inside the water, it turns light red and you repeat the progress until you feel clean enough to lay down. “What a day.“ Your feet are killing you and you feel like you didn’t sleep for days, but it’s only midday. A quick nap, you tell yourself, and I’ll feel as good as new.

So you lay down, eyes closing on their own as sleep washes over you. You wake up hours later, and your surrounding is pitch black. No light, no sun, and no noises from outside. The only sound comes from your door, as someone repeatedly knocks against it, gaining force with each second. “I´m coming!“ You say groggily, mind still sleepy and body aching even worse than before.You pry the door open and see a tall figure with broad shoulders standing on your doorstep. “Joel?“ You step back to let him in, and for a second its completely dark again when he steps in and closes the door. Your fingers dance along the wall until you find the little switch and turn the light on. There he stood, a lunchbox in his hand and deep wrinkles on his forehead. “I just wanted to check up on you, uh, you missed dinner and Jesse said he didn’t see you, so…“ Joel scratches his neck and holds the box out for you to take. “Thank you.“ You take it and brush his fingers in the progress, being thankful for the low lightning or else he would have seen you blush. “I was really tired and I don’t know, knocked out I guess. I was aiming for a nap but woke up just now.“ You open the lid and lick your lips at the food inside, although you don’t feel hungry at all. “Today was tiring, I give you that.“ Joel looks around and points to the red water inside the pot. “You sure you’re okay?“ “It´s not mine. How’s your cheek holding up?“ Without further thinking you step forward and crane your neck to get a look at it. “can´t complain, thanks for taking care of it.“ Joel runs a hand over his beard and rocks back and forth on his heels. “You should let me clean it again, to get the fresh blood off.“ You rush to your kitchen counter and put the lunchbox down, before emptying the used pot in the sink and refilling it with clean water. “Sit down, its only going to take some minutes.“ You don´t know why, but you were looking for an excuse to have Joel around you for a little while longer. You wrap your arms around yourself as you wait for the water to boil, feeling the cold creep up your bones once again. “Are you cold?“ Joel asks after some seconds of watching you. You turn around and give him a reassuring smile. “A little, I think the heater is broken or something.“ “Let me have a look at it.“ Joel is quick to get up again and walk over to you, cornering you between him and the counter. “It´s next to my bed.“ You whisper, laying a hand on his arm to slip past. Your touch is tender and you let your hand linger for a second, before sliding it down and wrapping it around your own arm again. Joel watches your every move and follows you, almost bumping into you when you stop. “It´s right here.“ You lean forward and grab the tiny heater with one hand, trying to pull it forward. “Let me.“ 

Joel´s breath fans over your ear and you feel his chest pressing up against your back. His arms engulf you as he reaches over and takes the electrical heater from you, bringing it forward with ease. “Thank you.“ Your head turns to the side, lips almost meeting his cheek given the proximity you share. I could kiss him again, you think. But a sudden itch in your nose keeps you from doing so, and you dodge your head just in time to the side, a loud sneeze emitting from your throat. “Bless you.“ Joel steps around you and crouches down to get a proper look at the heater. You thank him, slightly embarrassed, and return to your previous position on the stove. What a mood killer. “The heater is working just fine, you simply forgot to turn it on.“ Joel pushes the heater back towards your bed, and brushes his hands on his jeans before getting up. “I´m so forgetful sometimes.“ You slap your forehead and rest the other arm on your hip. “Still, thank you for checking.“ “It´s alright, everyone forgets stuff sometimes.“ Joel leans himself against your wall and watches you soak a cloth in the hot water. A comfortable silence settles between you two, but as you get closer and your chests almost touch, there is this feeling inside your belly again that almost makes you drop the cloth. Joel clears his throat and studies your facial features, liking the way your nose wrinkles when you concentrate, or how your eyes search his face for any damage. “Can you, um, lean down a little? I can´t really see what I´m doing.“ You sheepishly get on your toes and grab onto his shoulder for support, while his arm winds around your waist. He tilts his head down so your faces are on the same level, and closes his eyes at your touch. “What happened today, between us, I-“ He begins, lips brushing your wrist while he speaks. You feel your heart slide into your tummy and interrupt him. “I won´t tell Ellie, or anyone else. Don´t worry about it.“ You try to play it cool, but Joel opens his eyes and gives you a soft look. “That´s not what I was going to say. Just let me talk, okay?“ His voice is quiet but raspy, and you manage a nod. You try to put your focus on cleaning his cheek, but there is not much left to clean, anyways. “I don´t know what came over me or why I kissed you, but it felt nice. And I just hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable. I know I´m too old for you, but I-“ You interrupt him again, this time by slamming your lips against his and pulling on his thick hair. “I liked it, too.“ You mumble, tongue slipping past his lips and exploring his mouth. Joel grabs you by the waist and pulls you closer, applying slight pressure to your spine and making you arch into him. Your chests touch and your sweater slips up a little, exposing the soft flesh of your tummy. Joel groans and pulls away to take a proper look at you. “You liked it?“ He asks, before he stumbles forward and grabs both of your cheeks, kissing you harder than before. You hold onto his wrists and  tilt your head to the side to give him better access, noses bumping into each other. His beard burns on your sensitive skin, but you like the feeling and find yourself scratching the hairs with your fingernails. “Joel.“ You whisper breathlessly as his fingers slip underneath your sweater and brush over the fabric of your bra. A hot knot formed in your stomach, but there is this itch in your nose again that makes you pull away in an instant. “I think I have to-“You don’t get to finish your sentence as another sneeze shakes your body and makes you blow into the cloth you still clutched in your hand. “That´s disgusting, I am so sorry.“ You throw the cloth into the sink and wipe your nose with the sleeve of your sweater before turning back around. Joel still stands there, neck a deep shade of red and a concerned look in his eyes. He fixes his hair with one hand and extends the other to touch your forehead. “You´re hot.“ He says, mouth slipping into a frown. “Thank you, you don’t look too bad yourself.“ You tease, but Joel shakes his head. “No, I mean you’re burning up.“ He lets his hands fall to his side and your mouth drops open. “Ohh, but I feel fine. Don´t worry.“ You hide your hands in the pockets of your sweater and anxiously fiddle with your fingers. “You are tired, and have a fever. Doesn’t sound fine to me.“ Joel crosses his arms over his chest and you sigh dramatically. “Fine, maybe I got a small cold or something.“ You wave it off but Joel extends his arms and grabs you by the shoulders. “I am going to make you your food and some tea, while you go and lay back down. We can´t afford you to get sick, kiddo.“ “Kiddo?“ You snort, hand lazily coming up to cover your laugh. “Weird nickname to call someone you just sucked face with.“ You giggle and Joel rolls his eyes, letting go of you to let you sit on the bed. “Right now you are acting like a child.“ He sounds serious but you can tell by the glint in his eyes that he’s joking. “I´m too old to be a kid. Not as old as you, obviously-“You say, eyes teasingly scanning Joel up and down. “But old enough to be with older man, without it being illegal. Not that it would matter these days.“ You let yourself fall back into the bed, legs dangling over the edge. Your body feels heavy, but your heart is racing inside your chest. Never, not in a hundred years, did you think you’d kiss Joel Miller twice in one day, AND get taken care of by him. He´s been nothing but nice to you before, and you guys always had this playful banter going on, leading to your little crush, but that was it. He made sure to keep his distance and not cross any borders, so what made him change his mind? Its not like you never tried anything, but you always thought he was too blind to ever notice. “That´s good to know, wouldn’t want to kiss a child.“ Joel sounds far away, although he’s just in the kitchen and you clasp your hands together in front of your chest. “Ha ha, very funny. I don´t even look like a kid. Jesse thought I was in my thirties when he first saw me.“ “So you’re not?“ Joel walks over to you with a bowl of food in one, and Tea in the other hand. “No! I´m 27. Thought you’d know that.“ You act offended and crawl over to the other side of the bed to make Joel some space, hoping he’ll stay a little longer. “I was only joking.“ He hands you your bowl and places the tea onto the ground before he carefully sits down and rests his torso against the headboard. “Are you okay? With me staying a bit?“ He asks, brushing over his beard. “Of course, I enjoy your company.“ You swirl your spoon and push the food around, but your throat tightens at the thought of having to eat. “Come on, don’t do that.“ Joel gives you a warning look and you rest the bowl in your lap. “Do what?“ You ask. “Playing with the food, you have to eat something.“ He pushes the bowl back into your hands and you throw your head back. “I´m not hungry.“ You pout and pick up the spoon again, only to drop it seconds later. “You´ll regret not eating in the morning, trust me. At least take some bites. I didn´t see you eat all day.“ Joel keeps his eyes on you and you grow uneasy under his stare. “Fine.“ With long teeth you force the spoon up to your mouth and start chewing some of the food. The taste is alright, but you still frown. “One spoon isn’t enough, come on and eat up. You just told me you’re not a child.“ Joel raises his eyebrows and you suppress the urge to stick your tongue out. “I´m eating!“ You put another spoonful into your mouth and chew fast to get it down. After a couple more bites, you feel way too full and drop the bowl for good. “If you still want me to drink my tea, I cant take another bite or else I´m gonna throw up.“ You try to reason your lack of appetite. Joel sighs but takes the bowl from you in defeat, handing you your tea instead. “I´ll check up on you again tomorrow, and then you’ll eat a proper meal.“ Joel rotates his shoulder blades and looks at his watch. You have no clue how he actually reads the time through the cracked glass, but he gets up nevertheless. “It´s getting late, and I´m supposed to talk with Tommy and Maria in the morning. I´ll see you around, okay?“ Joel gives you a final look, and you’re quick to grab his hand. Its rough and warm, and you brush your thumb over his. “Thank you.“ “No problem, sleep well.“ Joel looks at your hands and leans down, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead. You let him go and he walks out of your house, heavy boots crunching the leaves on your doorstep. He must like me at least a little bit, you think to yourself. Otherwise he wouldn’t care for me. With that thought in your head and the tiniest smile on your lips, you continue to sip on your tea. 

“Y/N?“ Loud banging on your door awakes you once again, and you stir from your previous slumber. “Hmm?“ You sit up and rub your eyes, daylight shining through your window. “Can I come in?“ You recognize the voice to belong to Ellie, and hastily get up. Overnight, your nose became clogged and you feel a headache forming, but that’s nothing you couldn’t handle. “I´m coming!“ You rush to your door and open up, meeting Ellie on your porch. She has her bow slung around her shoulder and some arrows in her bag. “Did I wake you?“ She asks with an amused voice. You just roll your eyes and let her in, trotting back into your bedroom to change. “I was about to get up.“ You quickly shake up your bedsheets to let them ventilate before discreetly smelling your armpits. Smells good enough to you, which is why you skip your shower. Ellie chuckles at that and watches you search for something clean and warm to wear. Ellie wears her usual flannel and a rain jacket on top, dressed in sneaker despite the chilly weather. “What exactly happened yesterday? Maria was quite worried for you guys.“ Ellie mindlessly glides her hand over the kitchen counter and you shrug, poking your head trough a long sleeved shirt. “Infected got in our way, forced us to split up.“ You jump up and down to pull your jeans high and secure them with your belt. “I should have been with you guys.“ Ellie mumbles, poking out her lips. You walk over to her and rest your hip on the doorway. “We managed quite alright. Did Jesse already talk with you?“ You grab your jacket from the chair and swing it over your shoulders, missing out on Ellies blushed cheeks. “He told you?“ She asks, brows pulled together. “Ehm yeah, and even if he didn’t.. Word kinda got around.“ You cough shortly and give her a teasing smile, but Ellie runs a hand over her face. “Thats embarrassing.“ She shakes her head and you do the same. “It´s just a kiss, Ellie. Let people talk.“ You step into your boots and start binding the strings when Ellie puffs out air next to you. “I´m so stupid.“ She lets her eyes wander anywhere but to you, and you sigh. “Why? Its nothing serious, unless you like her.“ You mumble the last part but Ellies sudden shrinking of her shoulders makes you look at her. “You like her?“ You ask, but it sounds more like a statement. Ellie just shrugs and you stop tying your shoes.

“Look, I don’t know Dina´s intentions, but she can be lucky to have you.“ You look at your friend and Ellie bites her lip. “Joel said the same thing.“ Before you can respond, Ellie shoves your knife towards you and hands you your backpack. “Let´s go hunting.“ She walks in front of you while you hurry to close your door and not trip over the slippery mud. “I think we have to slip past the east gate, before Maria or Tommy see us.“ You close your jacket and breathe through your mouth while Ellie plays with the bow on her shoulder. “I know, this way.“ She takes you over the graveyard to another settlement of houses, sneaking past some backyards and finally to the gate. “Where do you want to go this time?“ You ask, still unfamiliar with the routes Ellie likes to explore. It became a thing between you two, to just sneak out from time to time and go hunting together. Most times you don’t even catch anything, but its nice to escape the judging eyes of Jackson for a bit and just talk with each other. And somehow, you feel like Ellie needs someone to talk to today. “Probably not the woods, I was thinking about the riverside up the hills?“ Ellie gives you a questioning look and you grab your knife. “Sounds good to me.“ Together, you sneak through the fence and rush out of eyesight so no-one spots you two. After climbing up some rocks and balancing along narrow pathways, you pause, slightly out of breath. “are there even rabbits this high up?“ You wonder, nose running so you wipe it on your sleeve. “Maybe, I saw one a couple days ago.“ Ellie stops as well and brushes her hair out of her face, her bun at the back of her head getting loose. “You came up here without me?“You feign hurt and clasp your heart. “Needed somewhere to think and be alone for a while.“ Ellie pulls out an arrow and lets the tip circle around her fingertip. “What´s wrong?“ You continue walking and watch a small rivulet flowing down between some rocks. “The usual. Joel getting into my life and Seth being a dick.“ She waves you off and occupies her hands with grabbing her bow, pulling back the string and positioning her arrow. “You know Joel just worries for you, you and Tommy are all he has left.“ You try to reason, but Ellies annoyed huff makes you shut up. “He´s harassing Jessie because of my patrols.“ She straightens her back and lets the arrow slip from her fingertips. The arrow swirls through the air and lands in a nearby tree, bark flying everywhere. “and pushes Seth for what he said to me.“ She gets a new arrow out of her back and repeats the progress, this time aiming for a different tree. “I don´t see what’s wrong with that. Sure, he should ask you first if you need his help, but after all he just worries and wants you to be safe.“ You pick up some small stones and flick them into the water. Ellie turns around, bow still taut. “He doesn’t get to do that anymore!“ She sounds angry, and only lowers her bow when she sees your shocked face. “Sorry.“ She looks uncomfortable, and you swallow, headache pounding at the back of your head. “It´s okay. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.“ You smile at her and walk over to the tree to pull the arrow out. You know something happened between Ellie and Joel for both of them being so tensed around each other, but its not your place to push Ellie into telling you everything. Although sometimes, you wish that she did. On the other side, you don’t tell her everything either. “You´ve ever been this far up?“ Ellie points to the peak of the hill and you groan. “No, but I guess you want to go there?“ Your legs already hurt, but Ellies small smile makes you push trough the pain. “You owe me one.“ You accusingly point your finger at her and give her back her arrow, the aim to actually hunt long forgotten. “You say that now, wait until you see the view.“ Ellie looks back over her shoulders and gives you a shy smile. “First of all I have to make it there without suffocating first.“ You joke, lungs itching if you breathe in too deep. “You have a cold or something?“ Ellie asks, eying you up and down. You push past her and use your hands to grab onto a particular high rock, pulling yourself up and climbing onto the next level. “I think so, Joel was really-“You stop yourself, almost biting your tongue. “What?“ Ellie climbs up behind you, head craned to hear you better. “Nothing, how far is it till we’re there?“ You look up and count the rocks you still have to conquer. Way too many, for your liking. “Go right, there should be a small path we can walk up.“ Ellie waits for you to move over and shows you the way, balancing carefree over the muddy ground. “God you’re not scared of heights?“ You clench your fists to get some feeling into your numb fingers. “I am, I just don’t look down.“ Ellie giggles and you hold back an amused smile, giggles were very unlike Ellie. “Wow, Ellie is scared of something.“ You tease, voice full of sarcasm. “Hey, I´m scared of a lot of things.“ Ellie waits for you to take her hand and helps you with the final steps, your shoes slipping in the mud. “for example?“ You ask while she pulls you up, her hand just as cold as yours. “I´m scared of ending up alone.“ Ellie releases your hand and strolls towards the cliff. “You have Dina, Jesse, Tommy, Joel.. and me.“ You lay a hand on her shoulder and gently squeeze. “You´re not getting rid of us so easy.“ You shove her with your elbow and she rubs the spot with a laugh. “Ow! So I´m stuck with you?“ She looks at you and then lets her eyes roam the panorama in front of you. You do the same and silently gasp, seeing all of Jackson and the surrounding woods. It looks so small from up here, and you smile. 

“You´re stuck with me.“ 

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

I´m planing to write multiple chapters, so stay tuned :)

[holylulusworld]

Little Bird

Summary: You ran – Dean chases you.

Pairing: Mobster!Dean x Reader, OFC’s

Warnings: angst, language, mobster business, pregnant reader (sue me), unhealthy relationship, choking (light; non-sexual), mentions of blowjob (no description), violence, blood, characters death, threats, scared reader, infidelity, protective Dean (overprotective bordering on possessiveness)

A/N: This is fanfiction! Please be aware if anyone treats you like Dean in this story, get help! It’s an unhealthy dynamic in this one. Dean is not aware he treats his wife badly. She does not forgive him but has no other choice as her life would be in danger. 

You saw the end of the line, so you ran. It wasn’t a hasty decision, rather a slow built up until you just couldn’t go on like before.

That’s how you ended here, in the middle of nowhere working at a random diner to make the money to pay your bills.

You must admit, it was way easier when your husband still provided everything you needed or wished for, but his generosity came with a price.

In the beginning, you believed your bond, your marriage could work out. In the end, you gave up understanding Dean or his life.

All you remember of the day you ran was that he had you pressed against the wall, one hand around your throat as he whispered a silent threat with his eyes.

If it only had been you, you would’ve stayed and waited for the inevitable to happen – but there’s another life in your belly.

The life Dean doesn’t know about let you wake up and fight back – or rather run for your life.

Six months ago, …

It’s another morning you wake up in a cold and empty bed. You got used to the life Dean offers. Since your father insisted on a bond, you are forced to live with the cold mobster.

Not that you never had a thing for Dean, you know him since childhood and always dreamily imagined marrying him. You knew about the business and you knew Dean is a rough and hard man, but you didn’t know he’s a tyrant too.

Most of the time he yells at you for not doing anything right or rather he wants other people to do the things you love.

You want to cook – Dean forces you to stop and let the cook take over.

You want to go shopping – Dean calls someone to bring you the things you have on your list.

You barely can do anything by yourself without Dean insisting someone else can do it better.

You feel like a bird in a golden cage. A humiliated and scared one. Mostly you hide in the library to read one of the books of the huge collection Dean gathered. 

There’s this tiny voice telling you he did it for you as a part of him at least likes to have you around but slowly this voice becomes silent.

Days ago, you heard him talking to Sam, telling his brother that he’s not sure if you are the right choice to be his wife. It hurt, carved a deep wound into your heart.

So far you bore every harsh word, even his cold glares or that he rammed his fist into the wall right next to your face when you wanted to go out with some old friends who came to town for your high-school reunion.

Sitting onto the bed, looking around the room you sigh heavily. Dean bought everything from the bed to the mirror you liked as you saw it in a magazine.

Living with Dean is like walking on a tight rope. One day he buys you everything you want – the next day he tells you can do anything right.

His anger gets the best of him and sometimes you don’t know if he wants to make love to you or kill you.

Patting toward the kitchen you rub your tired eyes. You wish you could make yourself breakfast but this would end up in a heated argument with Dean once again, so you sit onto a chair to eat the tasteless porridge his cook prepared.

You hate porridge, told the cook a hundred times you want pancakes, but she places a bowl in front of you again.

Today your stomach protests and you shove the bowl away, glaring at the smirking bitch you hate so much. It’s like she holds more power over your life than you and your eyes harden.

“I will talk to my husband about your behavior..” Snarling the words, you throw the bowl against the wall before you run out of the kitchen.

Hormones…how you love those little bitches. “Don’t worry little bean. I’ll tell daddy we want pancakes and he’ll agree. I hope he’s happy to hear about you…”

Not caring you are still in your nightgown you knock at Dean’s office, but he doesn’t answer so you just step in and your breath hitches in your throat.

He sits on his chair, pants down to his ankles while one of his girls from the club blows him off.

“What do you want?” Asking you casually, Dean searches your face. Your hands drop from your stomach and you can’t find the words to answer his question.

“I…I want to divorce!” Floats out of your mouth. 

That thought crossed your mind before but your love for Dean never let you speak out the truth lingering in the back of your mind.

Today he showed you that there’s no compassion or love for you in him or he would’ve been ashamed you caught him red-handed. 

“This crosses the last line. Letting a random whore from your club blow you off. I offered last night, and you told me you don’t want to…” Choking the words out you shake your head.

“I guess that I am not good enough at that either…” Then you run, dashing toward your bedroom to slam the door shut behind you.

You can hear the stomp of his shoes and then the door flings open. Dean’s eyes are clouded with anger and you can see his hands twitch before he lunges forward to press you into the wall.

Stillness surrounds you for a moment before he wraps his hand around your throat. He’s staring at you, clenching his jaw and you can see the threat in those darkened green orbs.

“You’re mine. There’s no way my little bird leaves her nest. I won’t let you go. Now be a good little bird and get dressed.” Dean pecks your lips before he let go of you, leaving you alone with your trembling hands and your racing heart.

This must end. The little bird must fly away…

Now…

“Hey, Sweetie. Will you fill an old man’s cup?” Earl chuckles as you give him a wink. “How far are you?” Glancing at your swollen belly Earl gives you a warm toothless smile. “You look like my Betsy back then…”

“Earl.” Patting the old man’s hand, you sit on the empty chair at his table. “I am so sorry you lost her. I wish I had someone like that in my life.”

“Your man wasn’t good for you?” Furrowing his brows in question Earl glances at your sad face. “I am sorry to hear, Sweetie. A nice girl as you deserve the world.”

“I had the world, just no love. He was…” Sniffling you give the elder man a cracked smile. “I was a nice thing to look at but not worth to be loved. I’ll bring you more coffee.”

“Don’t let that idiot get to you, Y/N. One day you’ll find a nice man loving you and the little boy in your belly.” Pecking Earl’s cheek, you feel someone watching you.

An unease feeling spreads through your body and you turn around to look over your shoulder, but the diner is empty, and you shake the thought away. “I’ll get you your coffee and a slice of apple pie, made with love.”

“You bake the best pies.” Earl chuckles and you give him a wink. “I bet that bastard misses your pies.”

“Nah, he had a cook. Always said I shall not bake or cook.” Shrugging you remember the day you tried to make a pie for Dean and he angrily stormed into the kitchen telling you to not bake again. “I guess he hated everything about me.”

While you cut a slice of pie for Earl and chat with your colleague a pair of emerald eyes watches your every step. 

Dean’s throat tightened watching you kiss the old geezer’s cheek. No one can touch you and you can’t touch anyone but him…

Walking toward your apartment, the home you created for you and your baby you tighten the hold on your purse.

The neighborhood is not the safest and it wouldn’t be the first time you run toward your door to hastily unlock it.

Tonight, you feel someone watching you and your feet carry you faster toward your door. Footsteps follow you and your hands start to shake as you get your keys out.

“Hello, Sweetcheeks. Do you remember me?” One of your neighbor’s slurs. He’s harmless but sometimes he doesn’t get the message to leave a woman alone. “Do you want a drink?”

“Stuart, hey…no thank you. I am tired and need some sleep. I just came from my shift. Maybe another time…night.” You hope he will leave you alone but tonight luck is not on your side.

“I asked you if you want a drink!” Stuart is angry and you take a step backward. “Drink with me.”

“Stuart. I am pregnant, okay. I will not drink alcohol right now. Just let me pass.” Pointing toward the door you keep an eye on Stuart. You can see he becomes impatient before he tries to grab your arm.

You don’t know how it happened but suddenly a tall man rams Stuart into the wall. You can hear Stuart grown as the man doesn’t stop.

Ramming your neighbors head into the wall until it lulls back, and his lifeless eyes stare back at you the man grunts. 

“Why…?” Stepping backward you recognize the shoes…the shoulders…his scent. You are not surprised Dean looks at you with darkened eyes when he turns his attention toward you. “How’d you find me here?”

Panic rises in your chest and you protectively move your arms around your belly.

“Go away!”

Tears run down your face as Dean removes his bloody leather gloves.

“Sweetheart.” The pet name lets your blood freeze. Dean never called you anything but Y/N or little bird. “I was so worried. Why did you run away from me?”

“Why? Where shall I start? You treated me like I am not capable of doing anything right. You letting that whore suck you off…” Sniffling you step back again when Dean tries to touch your cheek. “I bore everything but…but you choked me. I couldn’t let you hurt my baby…”

“Baby…” Just now Dean’s eyes land on your baby bump and for the first time his features soften. “I would never hurt you. I never hurt you.”

“You did with words and your behavior, followed by you choking me.” Scared you feel his hand touch your cheek. “All you did was scaring me.”

“I wanted you to feel comfortable. I didn’t want you to cook or stuff as I think you are too precious to do things like that.” Dean murmurs stepping close to cup the back of your neck. 

“You’re vulnerable and unique to me. I wanted you to feel like a queen.”

“By letting that cook treat me like a stupid child. I told her I hate porridge but she only smirked and gave me that disgusting stuff.” Confused Dean brushes his lips over your forehead. “You let that woman blow you off after I wanted to go down on you not hours ago…”

“I didn’t want you to lower yourself. I wanted you to feel special. I…I heard you talking to Ruby once. I knew that you do not like it…” Dean mumbles as he ghosts his lips over your cheek.

“I told her I do not like oral when the man doesn’t look at me while I make him feel good – just like you did with that girl. I…I wanted to make you feel good…always…” Sniffling you feel his other hand creep to your lower back to press you close to his chest.

“Hmmm…” His lips press against yours and you start to tremble as he gently holds you in his arms. “So soft and precious…”

“You…you choked me…” Looking guilty Dean nods, pressing your closer to his body to shield you from the cold. 

“I…I was mad. Baby Girl…you said you want to divorce. I gave you everything, treated you like a queen and you wanted to leave. I couldn’t tame my anger. ‘m sorry, Sweetheart.” Shaking you let Dean wrapped you in his coat. “I’ll bring you home.”

“What about my things?” Trying anything to find a way to get away from Dean you look fearful at the tall mobster. There’s a soft smile on his lips before he picks you up. “Dean?”

“Benny got your stuff hours ago. I just wanted to come here alone to not scare my wife. No one will ever part us, my little bird. I love you.” Dean believes you give in as you rest your head against his shoulder.

There is still love for him in your heart, but you can’t wait for the next chance to break out of your cage.

This time, no one will find his little bird…

Part 2 - My Little Bird

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