#I basically made the account and then didn’t touch again until a couple years later when I actually joined

[blueprintfish]

It's my 5 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

[ohsohoney]

When it comes to love you're just as blinded.

Part One

Eminem x Musician

Summary: It starts with a drunk embarrassing video, it spirals into something a whole lot more.

Note: Hey! First time writing for Em so I figured I'd use a side account and see how it went? Honestly this is a whole series in my mind so might add onto this first part soon! An oc character but can be read as a reader insert if you prefer:)

Set in 2014, just after the release of LP 2

Warnings: Lots of swearing, dark humour

Masterlist

I was mortified.

More so than I’d probably ever been, in truth. All because of a stupid video that had been taken a couple of years back when I’d had one drink too many on a holiday I’d always dreamt of.

To be fair though, the majority of the blame lied heavily on my younger sister’s shoulders, who’d found the stupid thing whilst reminiscing through old memories and thought it would be hilarious to post online. Forgetting about the millions of fans who would soon see it– and not just mine, it would seem.

No, because that just wasn’t how the internet worked, was it? And when a newly nominated artist, who had only been in the game for a couple years, was filmed rapping an old noughties classic instead of singing like expected, it was basically bound to go viral. Didn’t help that I was a Londoner through and through and had the accent to prove it, making the whole video that much harder to watch. In truth, I continued to cringe each time I was reminded of it, which was practically anytime I opened up social media or witnessed the guilty expression that continued to mar my sister’s face.

“Stop doing that.” I huffed at her later on when the worst of it still continued to storm on, almost whining actually as I looked away from my phone screen and down at the food I wasn’t really eating, just picking at. I was supposed to be mad, infuriated even, but it was proving to be a fucking chore when she kept on looking at me like that.

“Doing what?” Lottie retorted, not even attempting to wipe the culpable look from off of her face. She was currently residing back at mum’s now, seeing as how she had school and I’d only just landed back home, but I’d give it a day before she was back here again. My flight over had been strenuous, it always was when flying to and from Cali, but still I made time for her– even after the most recent stunt she had gone and pulled.

“Don’t do that either.” 

I’d meant to sound scolding but the soft laugh that escaped me truly was accidental. I couldn’t quite help it, I knew that being mad at her wouldn’t solve anything now and that she hadn’t really meant any harm by posting the video. That was just the type of person she was, she acted before she thought things through and didn’t ever think much for the consequences. Then again, she was still only fourteen and her putting the drunken moment on her Instagram story had just been one of those sibling type moments, the kind where you’d rip the piss out of one another simply because you could.

“I mean it, Lotts.” I sighed around the words, eyes flitting back to the screen and the way she was chewing on her lower lip. “It’s being sorted and, I don't know, I guess it’ll die down sooner or later. Mila reckons so anyway. We’ll give it a day or two, hey?”

A day or two did pass. And no such thing happened.

I’d been cooped up at home ever since I’d touched down at Heathrow, having jumped in the first cab available and fallen asleep the second I’d gotten in through the door. I’d been working out in LA for a couple weeks with a few other writers, just messing about with new sounds and ideas for the next album I eventually wanted to release. So I hadn’t been witness to the media catastrophe Lottie had created until later the next afternoon when Mila, my manager, had all but mowed down my front door, having called my phone three dozen times and gotten a guy she was currently seeing in the city to come buzz my intercom. It had been a wake up call and a half to say the least.

Still, she had assumed it would all die down fairly quickly, went as far to say that it could do wonders for my career– even with me being visibly tipsy– after having had the absolute gall to say that I hadn’t sounded half as bad as I thought I did. I’d cackled hysterically into the phone at that, then had somewhat of a meltdown, in utter disbelief over the apparent reaction she claimed the video had gone and garnered. Because I was absolutely not looking. Knew that if I did there would be too large a chance that I’d check myself into the nearest psychiatric unit. 

But as I said, a couple of days had passed and typically something like this would have eventually blown over when the next big story hit the headlines. White girl can spit a verse, who cared? Only then the VMA’s had happened and shit hit the fucking fan.

I hadn’t attended, shit like that had always irked me. I could perform in front of a crowd of thousands and step off feeling as high as a kite, but stick me on a carpet and force me to interact with cameras, questions, and people? That was where I drew the line.

At the start, I had tried. I’d been new on the scene and people had reasoned that I would just end up being another one hit wonder, so the label had figured it best if I got myself out there, if only to interact with other artists and producers in similar circles.

It had gone down a treat– like a cake being knocked over at the wedding of the year. Maybe even worse. I didn’t like to linger too long on it.

But I’d tried again and again afterwards, although it had only proven to worsen my mood each time and forced me to retreat, avoiding my team and the responsibilities I had lined up for a short while after. It was only following a particularly uncomfortable night that Mila had called it quits and had a contract drawn up stating that I only had to attend a certain amount of events a year. It had been at that moment that I’d realised just how fucked I would have been in this industry without her.

Even so, life still continued on without me and the VMA’s were just another show I would be mostly avoiding, only making a statement at the end of the night online for the nominations I’d been gifted.

It was around midnight when I heard the scream.

Lottie was staying with me, typical for whenever I was back in London for a few weeks at a time, and so I’d felt my heart literally drop to my feet at the very sound of her screech and legged it across the entirety of the house. At first, I’d thought she’d slipped and fallen, maybe cracked her head open on a counter. And then the thought of an intruder had crossed my mind whilst I’d gone skidding over the landing. So anyone could understand why I was so worked up when I finally threw open her bedroom door only to find her simply sat there on her phone, hand covering her mouth.

“What the hell is your problem? It’s just gone twelve, Lottie! I thought something had happened!” I rebuked her, chest heaving as I dropped the heavy bookend I’d managed to pick up somewhere on my way over down onto her desk. “Shit.”

Her eyes were wider than I’d ever seen them though when I finally did get around to catching my breath and chanced another glance back at her.

“I was literally just about to fall asleep.” Which really meant that I’d been getting into bed to scroll through my phone or read a book when I’d heard her shout. “Then you screamed as though Freddy Krueger was stood at your window.”

“Elia.” 

I blinked, Lottie rarely did that, used my entire name and not the usual shortened version or whatever other epithet that came to mind– and truly, there was a large variety, the shit I’d heard this kid come out with was insane. But I shook my head at the thought and quirked a brow at her. “What? Did someone die?”

“No,” She answered me, dropping her hand away from her face even though her jaw was still gaping, “But I just might.”

Rolling my eyes at the theatrics, I exhaled and walked over to slump on the end of her bed, figuring that something had happened between her and one of her friends, or maybe some lad she might’ve been speaking to. “And it deserved a scream like that? Honestly Lotts, just be thankful this place doesn’t have any neighbours listening in through the walls.” I told her, thinking back to my own adolescent years and the woman in the flat beside ours, “We’d have someone knocking at the door in under a half hour.”

It was her turn to roll her eyes then as she scoffed at me– like I was the one being dramatic here– before she then shook her head and shuffled hurriedly over the mattress to sit closer. “No Lia, just listen, look.”

Confused, I sighed and tilted my head when Lottie moved to shove her mobile in my face. I squinted at the sudden contrast, showing off my age and the horrific tragedy that was my eyesight, and tried to make sense of whatever it was that she was so hellbent on showing me. 

From what I could first make out, it was just a Twitter thread, but then Lotts then clicked on the main video at the top. I waited as the clip buffered for a second, then a familiar face panned into focus and I felt my brow furrow. I peered over at Lottie for a split second before her eyes were widening in retort and she gestured her chin back towards the screen.

I narrowed my own eyes in turn, but watched on.

It had to be a coincidence, I reasoned. That of all people it was him that Lottie was currently showing me.

“Well, aren’t we in for a show tonight! Eminem is in the house, people!” An interviewer started, she was a tall, leggy blonde who held a too big microphone too close to her chin. “How are you feeling?”

I shouldn’t have been as surprised as I was to see him on the VMA’s carpet, not after the comeback he’d made late last year with LP 2, but I was, eyes caught on the bleached buzz cut he’d since reverted back to for the album’s release. Fuck, I’d be so pissed if it came out that he was performing tonight and I’d gone ahead and missed it.

Lottie thumped my shoulder, hard, realising fairly quickly that I hadn’t really been listening, and so I scowled in retort but gritted my teeth to keep from thumping her right back. She might’ve been my sister, but I had well over a decade on the kid and was marginally her guardian, just not in writing.

The rapper had seemingly just finished commenting on a question the tall blonde had asked him and so I forced myself to pay closer attention, brain whirling as I wondered what could have possibly been so important that it had Lottie screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night.

“I feel that!” The woman practically beamed at the rapper, head nodding along to whatever he’d just said, “But it’s good to hear that you’re enjoying being back. In truth, I wasn’t sure I’d catch you here tonight, there’s been a lot of buzz surrounding you at the moment and not just because of the album!”

My heart stuttered in my chest. Actually, I was pretty sure it had gone and fallen out of my arse, especially when the interviewer continued to press on the topic and it appeared as though the man in question understood exactly what she was getting at. His stoic facade cracked just a tad and– there! A smirk. An ever so slight crook of his mouth. I shot a startled glance over at Lottie but her gaze was fixated on the screen.

“I mean, have you seen it?” The interviewer prompted whilst he simply stood there, fisted hands clasped before him. No sign of the split second curve he’d just had on his lips. “The whole world’s been wondering about your thoughts on the singer!”

And there it was.

“I can’t,” I started to say, turning away from the phone just as a rush of nausea flooded through me, but Lottie held strong, hand coming up to catch my shoulder so that she could position her phone back in my eyeline. “Lottie–” I tried. Please.

“Just listen.” She persisted, face so serious.

Immediately I wanted to rescind my earlier statement. This was now my most mortifying moment. In fact, I wanted to hide in the nearest cupboard and never come out again. How the fuck was I going to show my face in public, not to mention at the next event, after this?

I swallowed thickly, entirely unprepared to hear a word he had to say about me. I mean, who would be? This man was leagues above a majority of the industry, me included. Never had I ever even thought that he could hear my name in passing, let alone listen to one of my songs playing in some shop he was coincidentally in or a random radio station. But here he now was, rolling his lips as he pondered over a question which concerned that stupid fucking video. 

“I hate you.” I whispered at Lottie, mostly in hopes to cover up whatever he was about to say, but also because I was embarrassed beyond belief. And this was all her fault.

In the time spent since the drunken video had first gone up and now, I had yet to even think about him ever seeing it. Because the idea was that far fetched. But this was me, so of course he had.

“I’ve heard it.” Marshall confirmed, his head dipped in a barely there nod. My throat cinched. I wondered briefly how quickly I’d be able to tie myself a noose.

“And?” The woman prodded and internally I cursed her future bloodline, hoping that she'd somehow spawn the next antichrist or that her grandchild would become a shit-headed politician.

The man in question merely hummed, hollowing out his cheeks. “I was surprised, I have to admit. But she’s good, even when wasted.”

“I wasn’t fucking wasted!” 

I hadn't even realised I’d spoken out loud until Lottie snorted on a chuckle. I turned towards her, brows raised high, “What? I wasn’t. You were there!”

I rolled my eyes when she didn’t deign me with some sort of assent but my head snapped back over to where she still gripped the phone when I heard him speak again, his voice echoing throughout the quiet bedroom.

“Then again, her shit goes hard. So it shouldn’t be too much of a surprise.”

That heart of mine that I kept on talking about? Yeah, I had zero clue as to what the fuck was going on with it now, only that my chest was wound as tight as it possibly could be and my eyes stung as I withheld the urge to even blink.

“You’re a fan?” The woman asked him, appearing genuinely surprised by the notion, even though it sounded more like a declaration rather than the question it was.

Marshall hummed, sparing a brief glance over his shoulder when a group shuffled on past them, disrupting the interview. It didn’t deter the woman though and I couldn’t blame her, no matter how much it pained me.

“So, could this mean we’ll be seeing a new featured artist on whatever you put out next?”

I made some sort of inhuman sound at that, but barely moved a muscle. And then I all but shutdown when the rapper's wide eyes flickered over to peer straight into the camera’s lens, “I mean, if she’s down.”

The next scream that was emitted once again came from Lottie, but I couldn’t think to scold her for it, not when I was hardly even functioning and wanted to implode myself. 

The girl toppled over onto me, shaking my shoulders whilst she squealed unabashedly. “If. She’s. Down!” She repeated, squealing with excitement, “El, this is insane! How are you not screaming too?”

The air I forced from my lungs came out in a breathless chuckle as I clung to the forearm that was still wrapped around my collar. In truth, I didn’t know how the hell I was supposed to react. 

“Figure you’ve screamed enough for the both of us.” I replied faintly, not really thinking but somehow managing to carry on, mostly out of sheer shock. I glanced her way, “I feel a bit sick.”

Lottie just shook me harder and when we eventually went falling down onto the duvet in a mess of limbs I wondered what I was going to do with the knowledge that I’d just been given. God. He knew who I was. The shock of it was almost like reliving my first time on stage all over again.

That night I ended up listening to Lottie rant on and on for a good while after whilst she scrolled through her Twitter feed and the rest of the internet. Mila eventually intervened, calling after having seen it too, and was as smug as ever. “Told you.” She’d said the second I’d hit the answer button and I hadn’t had the heart to play it off or act as though I hadn’t seen it either. 

After the interview eventually finished trending and stopped being posted here, there, and everywhere, I was left with a flow of new followers but also a nightmare of opinions spouting from every corner of the planet on any comment section I had to offer. I forced myself to come off most apps I had downloaded after that and resorted to gaining my daily entertainment, and any real news, from Lottie. Which seemed sad, in retrospect, but honestly? It was more than a little self-serving and I’d even managed to get a shit load of stuff done.

I worked on a couple new songs, sticking to what I did best, but my mind did end up drifting away every so often, back to a conversation I’d had with Mila and Travis at the label a couple days after the media storm had passed. It seemed they all wanted me to try implementing a few new concepts into the music I was currently working on before we started to draw up ideas for the next album. Travis reasoned that even attempting to add a couple freestyles into the motions whilst I went about writing would do me wonders later on. 

I just felt uncomfortable with it all, really. I’d never been a rapper. I mean, I loved it. It was mainly what I’d been brought up on, having grown up in an area where every kid on the estate was either attempting to become the next big thing or just blaring the biggest hits out of their car stereos. But that was just it. I listened and sang along, had even built up an extensive collection which I was immensely proud of, but the label were now aiming for this next album to make it onto a Grammy nominations list. It was all they had been fretting over since I’d somehow managed to chart the last one– although a single number one and an almost throw away making it to number seven didn’t make me all that hopeful. 

Even so, it forced me to wonder how it would all work if I started to switch things up now. I could appreciate all genres but I didn’t wanna become the next hopper just to appease the people yessing me and then fall off.

The entire concept had me confused and so I had taken to keeping my head down for a while longer.

Lottie had headed back to mum’s earlier that morning, seeing as I was due to make an appearance in Paris for Fashion Week, attending the Vogue show alongside Vivienne Westwood. An utter dream, yes, but also still an incredibly daunting reality. Even so, it was something I couldn’t quite worm my way out of even if I had wanted to– see, with that contract there still came clauses.

I’d been prepping for my upcoming early morning flight most of the day, showering later on than anticipated just so that I could pack my case and eat before I eventually climbed into bed. Hoping to somehow get a couple hours kip.

I’d thrown on a robe and kept the speakers blaring once I’d eventually jumped out from under the spray, wet hair curling at the ends as I worked on throwing something quick together in my kitchen.

It wasn't long before I went and took the bowl I’d just made out into the living room with me, simply so that I could curl up on the settee and wrap up the few emails I’d been working on earlier. I was just nodding along and humming to the next song that played through the overhead speakers when my phone started to buzz against my ankle, shooting a funny feeling up through the bone. I was quick to pick it up, wrinkling my nose at the feel and not paying much mind to the caller, figuring it had to be either Mila or Lottie.

“Hello?”

There was a short pause as I shifted the phone against my ear before a voice eventually sounded, “This Elia?”

Frowning, I casted a quick glance at the phone’s screen to find a number with an unfamiliar area code staring back at me. I let my gaze stray on over towards a clock I had hanging on the far wall only to find that it had just gone eight. 

I fumbled for a moment, “Um. It is, can I ask who’s calling?”

A low cough rumbled through the line before the same voice spoke again, I shuffled to set my laptop off to the side on the sofa, brow furrowed. “It’s Em– Marshall.”

Suddenly my head felt so very empty and my mouth was working around words that couldn't seem to find their way out. Em. The Em?? Fucking, Em?

I’d obviously been quiet a beat too long, drowning in the sudden panic that had shrouded me, because he spoke up again, “That Nas playin’?”

I shot a startled glance over my shoulder to where the fancy sound system was installed, the biggest reason I’d gone and purchased the home, in truth, and was immediately reminded of the music I had piercing through the air. Clumsily, I rolled off of the corner of the settee so that I could stumble over to turn the thing off, doing exactly that before I was forced to blink at the sudden silence that greeted me.

I winced and was quick to turn the music back on, keeping it low. All the while I still held my phone close to my chest.

“Uh, yeah. Hi!” I blundered helplessly after a moment, carding a hand through my damp hair as I stared at the empty wall before me stupidly. I wasn’t sure what to say, let alone do. I could sort of wrap my head around the interview, his brief mention of me. But a fucking phone call? It was on another level.

He chuckled though, enough so that I felt myself flush bashfully at my obvious awkwardness and forced my body to move back towards the sofa, if only so that I didn’t have to stand on shaky legs anymore. 

“Hi.” He mimicked, voice low albeit a tad amused.

I smiled. Unable to do anything but, in all honesty, as I lowered myself down onto the cushions, vaguely aware that I should probably be saying something else now that he’d gone and replied, but was simply more than a little caught off guard by everything. 

“Sorry, I– Well, I didn’t expect your call. Or anyones really.” I murmured, trying my best to shake off the nerves that were apparently wreaking havoc on my brain to mouth filter. “I just jumped out of the shower, had yet to turn off the stereo. Sorry.” How many times had I just apologised? I wanted to scream.

“You’re good.” He assured me, voice unlike what I probably would have expected and so I blinked once more at the sound of it, reminded that it was actually him I was talking to. But all that was fluttering through my head was ‘what the fuck are you doing calling me?’ “Nice choice, I gotta say. This an alright time for you to talk? I don’t wanna disturb you much.”

My eyes widened at both the compliment in song choice and well, him. Then withheld another sudden urge to scream, the hand not holding my phone clenching into a tight fist against my chest. “No, no, of course not. I mean, you’re fine! Not disturbing me at all.”

His next reply sounded more than just a little mirthful, “Sure ‘bout that?”

I willed myself to relax and took an inconspicuous breath as I pulled my legs back up under me. “I’m sure.” I told him, laughing lightly at myself for being so socially inept– or maybe it was just this entire scenario I’d been shoved into. “How’d you even get my number anyway?” 

I hadn’t meant for it to sound so forceful or abrupt, but it had been yet another question my sluggish brain hadn’t been able to find an answer to. 

“Mila?” He answered me, and I blinked stupidly at the name. “We had a mutual contact, figured I’d chance askin’ her instead of gettin’ lost in your DM’s. That cool? She said she’d let you know.”

The conniving cow, I thought to myself, though I wouldn’t have put it past her to have reasoned with herself that I would’ve probably freaked out if she had told me beforehand, before then having proceeded to just let my phone ring out whilst I stared pitifully at it. She knew me all too well. 

“She did not.” I replied through a baited breath, “But no, yeah. You’re alright, just caught me off guard is all. You’re probably the last person I expected to call, if I’m being honest here..”

When I heard him laugh once more I grinned, all too pleased with myself. It was a low gruff sound, not deep enough to be sarcastic or ingenuine, but rather warm. It surprised me.

“Oh yeah? Even after everything that’s gone down lately?”

My eyes slipped closed at the instantaneous reminder and I winced. The video. Honestly, in the whirlwind that wasn’t just my life at the moment, but this phone call too, I could have almost forgotten about it.

“I still can’t believe you saw that.”

Marshall let go of another amused huff that I figured to be a chuckle, breathing in deep enough that he forced me to wait on his next words. “I don’t lie. I meant what I said. But tell me, how many drinks d’you have in you?”

I curled my tongue against the back of my teeth in hopes to keep from grinning too hard, feeling a slight sting at the tip. “I was tipsy.” I argued pointlessly, knowing it would be a tireless venture, “I’d only had a couple.”

He hummed, seemingly not convinced.

“It was years ago, too!” I felt the need to tack on, the rosy hue the alcohol had given my cheeks sprung to mind and made me wonder. My face wrinkled as I dragged a helpless hand across it. “Who even sent it to you?”

“A couple people, actually.” Marshall ended up revealing and his words sounded playful enough that I could almost picture the curl of his mouth. “My daughter was one.”

Without thinking my hand flew up towards my mouth and I shook my head as I let it rest against my palm. “You’re not being serious.”

“Dre too.”

I let go of a hissed curse and crumpled a little bit in my seat before laughing stupidly at myself. If I couldn’t talk myself out of this then I supposed I would just have to get over it. I hoped thinking sensibly would allow me to actually follow through on that sentiment, but I very much doubted it.

Marshall laughed again, slow and easy almost as though he’d shared it with me a hundred times before. “I wasn’t kiddin’ neither. ’s why I called.”

Pulling my head from out of my hands, I wet my lower lip, mind promptly flashing back to the clip Lottie had shown me. “What’s that meant to mean?” I asked him, treading cautiously. 

“Listen.” He began, pausing only briefly to inhale before he then added, “I’m workin’ on another album–”

“No.” I interrupted, eyes suddenly wide and alert, “Already?”

A tittered snort followed the disruption but my mind was already reeling. 

“You’re not fucking with me?”

In all honesty I had prepared myself to wait a couple more years for another drop, hoping for him to feature or for someone to send for him if only so that he’d make a track in reply. I’d been obsessed with his recent work, even going as far as to add it onto the tour bus playlist late last year. It had actually been played so much the roadies and the band had threatened to rip the system out. But a new album? Fuck. I hadn’t expected it.

“Who else knows?”

There was a slight click on the other side of the line. Or scuffle. “As of right now? Like six people.”

I swallowed down the understanding that then hit me, but my stomach lurched at the very thought of it. “And I’m one?” I chuckled, holding back the hysterical laughter I felt bubble as my hand fell over my heart, “Wow, I feel honoured, Mathers.” It was teasing, the rib I meant, though my eyes still widened when I realised what I’d gone and said, not wanting him to take it the wrong way. 

I needn’t have worried. 

“As you fuckin’ should be.”

I gave a real laugh at that, almost a full-belly type shit. But could you really blame me? 

I was still smiling as I went to retort, humming with it, “God, you really just went and sprung that shit on me.”

“Hold you to keepin’ it on the low for now.” Marshall said, reminding me how paranoid the press and Hollywood had made him out to be in the past. I wondered how much truth there was in the sentiment. I mean, the man was almost a recluse– not that I could blame him, I was pulled from the same sort of cloth there– but to put a secret like that in my hands? It had to take some amount of faith.

I nodded seriously, even though he couldn’t see the gesture. Seemed he could hear the sincerity in my answer though, “‘Course.” I told him and then chewed on my lower lip for a second before a soft snicker escaped me. “That the only reason you called though? I mean, as honoured as I am to be one of the infamous six, I’m surprised you just phoned to let me in on the know. Have I just been roped into some sort of celeb elitist group? Weird initiation.”

His huffed laugh was breathy and made my mouth twitch that little bit more. 

“Nah. You always this weird though?” Marshall wondered and I bared my teeth in a light grimace, figuring I’d gone too far with that one. Or maybe.. I'd just hit the mark? I snorted lightly at the thought.

“It was an honest question! I’ve heard horror stories.” And wasn’t that the truth, events and parties weren’t all about the awards and just getting trollied. Some of those fuckers were as strange as people could come.

The man clucked his tongue, although I could hear the slight smile in his sarky response. “Uhuh. Sorry to disappoint but nah, initiation starts in the belly of LA. Gotta dissect a virgin and drink Ciroc out of their intestines. Funnel that shit down.”

The snort I gave in turn was ugly and loud enough that it forced a hand to fly up and cover my mouth, but it didn’t appear to bother the rapper none, who chuckled before clearing his throat.

“Change this shit to Facetime.” He said not a second after, swiftly cutting short my absurd amusement. “Then we can talk about the album.”

I fumbled for a moment. “I look a mess.”

“Good thing this ain’t a fuckin’ fashion show then.” He only pressed, “You think I give a shit what you look like right now?”

That struck an odd chord in me for some reason, but I didn’t want to linger much on the feeling. “No. But I do, dickhead. It’s half eight at night, I have sudocrem on my face and I look like a dog off of Lady and the Tramp.”

I was so flustered by the very thought of acquiescing to the man’s demand that I didn’t even think much of the name I’d gone and called him. 

“Again, do I give a shit? And what did you just call me?”

I paused, reeling back to whatever it was I’d just spouted at him. Upon rehashing my words I felt my tongue press between my lips to keep from laughing loudly, if Mila or Lottie had been there I’d already be strung up by a pair of metaphorical balls. 

“You heard me fine.” I brushed it off, if he wanted to call me out of the blue and act all chummy then chummy was what he’d get.

Besides it wasn’t like I’d meant the term maliciously, I used that type of endearment with everybody. Something my manager had tried and failed to force out of me time and time again.

“But back to this whole ‘seeing my mug thing’. Not happening, mate. Why couldn’t you have called like, six hours ago? I looked like an actual person then.”

“Dickhead.” He muttered beneath his breath, barely even loud enough for me to have heard him and I could only guess that he was shaking his head with it, hopefully somewhat amused. “You ain’t an actual person then?” He said in reply, forgoing the name calling for now, “Figures, you give off lizard vibes.”

“Fuck you!” My laugh was sudden, jaw having dropped a tad at the quip. “Lizard vibes, the fuck are you then? And yes, an actual person! You can’t just call people, drop a bomb, and then demand things!”

“Shit typically works.” He quipped all too quickly that it had me shaking my head around another quiet smile of my own. “Just entertain me though, for a moment.”

My head fell back against the arm of the sofa, eyes casted towards the high ceiling which loomed above. I couldn’t quite believe I was actually considering it.

He didn’t even have to goad me before I relented. I huffed, blowing a strand of hair from out of my face as I sat back up, “Fine. Just gimme a sec.” 

He hummed.

Elbowing my way off the settee I skidded over to the closest mirror, dragged a hand through my mostly dried hair and made sure that I didn’t have racoon eyes from any lingering mascara I’d had on before my shower. The patches of sudocrem would have to stay though, I deemed, seeing as he already knew about those. 

I gave up on the preening and sighed as I fell back onto the sofa, thankful for the dim lights the living room offered in that moment. It was just as I was switching the call though that a thought hit me, making me question if the reason he’d asked me to start the Facetime was due to him wanting to give me the option to turn it down or simply because he had no idea how to do it himself. “Still there, old man?”

A scoff echoed into the room before my phone screen stuttered and I was left staring at the sharp lines of his face. It wasn’t like I hadn’t actually believed it was him I was talking to, but seeing the man was another thing altogether. He was a real person and that idea alone had me reeling. 

I wrinkled my nose almost shyly around a smile when that sharp gaze of his slid away from something behind the camera to meet mine. He tilted his head to look me over, the hood of his jumper moving with the motion. 

“I was right about the lizard thing.” Was the only greeting he offered me, jutting his chin out as he feigned all seriousness. 

My mouth dropped open upon hearing him and my tongue quickly flicked out towards a canine to keep from biting back at him. There was humour written in the gesture though, even as I moved to narrow my eyes. “He’s got jokes! Reused ones, I might add, but jokes nonetheless.” I snarked, lifting my eyebrows at him in exaggeration, “Hilarious.”

His mouth curled very, very briefly, but I was quick to work out that it was all in the eyes with him. They held a certain amount of mirth as they flickered over my face. I wondered what he saw. 

“Suits you though. Even with all the…” He waved a hand over his own face, probably referencing the white dots I had littered in a few places.

With a shake of my head I raised a hand to my chest, feigning a fond appreciation for the sardonic comment. “Is that the famous charm the world’s heard so much about then? Really know how to make a girl feel special, Mathers.”

His eyes slitted but still shone with a slight glaze, he hummed deeply in retort. “Best believe it. Why d’you think I’ve gotten divorced twice?”

A low whistle escaped me before I then laughed, eyes squinting with the strength of it. “Figured you might just have a kink for courtrooms.” 

His tongue swept into his cheek at my boldness, fighting back a real smile as he glanced away and then back again. “I’m down bad for a good Judge. Spank me vibes, you know?”

I chuckled outwardly at that, amused by his quick witted replies. But that in itself didn’t surprise me, it was well known just how hilarious the man could be, his stoic demeanour only prodding that revelation further. 

That sternness his face seemed to consistently hold softened though in that next moment and I watched on as he shuffled a little closer to the camera, sat somewhere indoors with enough natural light that he could have only been in his kitchen. It hit me then how wild this whole thing suddenly was. “What’s with the last name anyway?”

I blinked, caught off guard by his ask. “Um,” I fumbled, a slight wrinkle forming between my brow, “What do you mean, me calling you Mathers?”

He hummed and I had to think about it for a second. Ultimately I ended up gifting him a shrug, “Don’t know. Just feels strange to call you Eminem or whatever.” I laughed lightly at myself, hand falling to my knee to toy with a loose thread on the hem of my robe. “What do people usually call you?”

It was his turn to shrug then, his being a singular and fluid motion whereas mine had been more thoughtless. He was watching again though, the wide eyes I was so used to seeing in old interviews where he was always playing a part were now gentler, narrowed sure, but softer and slightly wrinkled at the very edges.

I tugged on the frayed thread, wrapping it around my finger enough to whiten the skin before I had to let it go again. “Is Em okay? Or just Marshall maybe?” I queried, watching him too.

“Whatever you want.” He murmured and it was then that I noticed he’d propped his phone up somewhere in front of him because a pair of hands came to rest at the bottom of the screen just as he pressed further into the counter he was sat at.

I wrung my lips to one side, teeth biting into the inside of my cheek enough to keep from smiling much more than I already was. “Most people call me El or Lia. Elia just started to feel unnatural away from, you know, everyone else.”

It was the worlds now, as well as one of few reasons I had for the stigma I felt around my own name. 

The man jerked his head in a short nod in response whilst his fingers intertwined against a marble countertop. “So we should just slide that into the writin’ credits then? Or you finally gone take me up on that offer of a feature?”

You know that odd feeling you get when you’re on the tube or a plane and so suddenly your ears just pop and there's this ringing sound that floods the single sense? It just happens, out of nowhere, and you blink. So all you can immediately focus on is the sound. The odd feeling of it driving waves deeper and deeper into your skull. And the only way you can recover is by holding your own breath?

That was what that question felt like to me. 

“What?”

His eyes were alight, akin to a low flame of flickering amusement and perhaps hope. “You deaf now too? Know you heard me.”

Of course I fucking heard him but that didn’t mean I understood. “This is for real?”

Finally, he let go of a dulcet chuckle, almost a ringing sound in and of itself. “You gone make me repeat it? You in, or not?”

“How is that even a question?” I breathed back to him, my hand shaking against the hem of my robe. “Yes! God, if I ever say to no to an ask like that you better fucking shoot me. What the fuck, Marshall?”

That chuckle again.

It was unlike anything else, the only sound I could hear around the blood rushing between my ears. Stupidly, I pinched my thigh and released a stuttered breath when the twist of skin radiated a short snap of pain up my leg.

“That the go ahead then?”

I must’ve looked so incredibly starstruck but I couldn’t even bring myself to care, this was unreal. I nodded, almost frantically at him. “Of course that’s the fucking go ahead! Are you sure about this? I mean, I don’t know how much help I’ll be. I mostly write radio shit.”

“Your earlier stuff ain’t.” Em shot back, the quip startling me enough to snap my jaw shut because not a lot of people ever dug that deep. But he continued on before I could think to hone in on the slip, “‘sides, your lyrics are what I fuck with. That shit makes you think, has you lingerin’. Playing with words is the aim, I want people thinkin’, leachin’ onto each syllable and every phrase. You do that.”

The air in my lungs lurched.

I could only offer him one reply, “When do we start?”

[heyitsyn]

Keeping Up With Seijoh Pt. 10

a/n: based on this post uwu

okayokayokayyeyyy

LOOOK I LOVE THIS SCENE LIKE I CAN GO ON A RANT OF HOW IMPORTANT THIS SCENE IS LIKE SKDJSLDKKSSM

okay so

yuhhhhhh

the way this is set up is basically seijoh simping for you

also they have their own separate gc just for them bc they dont want you to see them just simping for you

even tho oiks ltr does that everyday

but hes not ready for that conversation

there was a few times that you were kinda curious as to what was in the chat

but they would click off and they would blush before diverting you to a different conversation

this might sound hella weird and creepy

idk bout yall but i think its cute that they take random pictures of you doing the sinplest things

this all started bc of one picture

from baby aki-kun

so basically you stayed behind with kunimi during monday to just study and you sat in front of him while sharing his desk

babie took a pic of you just studying and he sent it to the gc with no context

its a known fact that seijoh doesnt practice during mondays so they were all doing something out of school

but they were all missing you so seeing you with kunimi fueled jealousy in everyone

even kyo

oikawa blew up in the chat and was keyboard smashing

the others were just teasing him like hes lucky youre with him

but behind the screen, they were blushing and red and envious and AAAAA

thus spurred on some sort of competition

like they would send the chat pictures of you like 'hA TAKE THAT SHES WITH ME'

unbeknowst to you, these boys have folders of just cute candid pics of you

oikawas insta is filled of you and his snap is full of you in his story and his tiktok is full of screaming simp rants about you

the tiktok comments are all like, 

‘IS SHE YOUR GIRLFRIEND?!’

‘OIKAWA-SAN SHES ADORABLE’

‘BACK🤺OFF🤺OIKAWA🤺I🤺CALLED🤺DIBS🤺ON🤺HER🤺FIRST🤺‘

random ones like him doing a day in my life type of vids and you appearing and everyone can just see the small blush on his face and the bashful yet happy smile on his lips

its really adorable

but the real ones know that shes been appearing in his insta since day 1

moilk.bread.1

thats practically your account now 

welll,,,

its more of a fan account for you and a lot of people from aoba johsai follow that account since you dont have an official one yet so they all simp for you there

the pictures were all from everyone like the boyz group chat was a haven for your candids

you did think it was strange that the boys would constantly ask to take pictures with you and everyone was just trying to get a pic to have aesthetic couple pics w you

and they would put it as their wallpaper or lockscreen

IMAGINE THE BLUSH THEY WOULD GET WHEN COMPLETE STRANGERS WOULD ASK THEM IF THATS THEIR GIRLFRIEND

oooo i mentioned this in the post too that iwa and you went to the gym and you guys took a mirror pic

after, you didnt really like the gym bc its just hard yanno?

iwa went back and while he was setting up his weights and equipments, his gym buddy noticed his phone light up causing your picture to show up

'oh? is that your girlfriend, iwaizumi?'

duh he doesnt have a girlfriend so he was like 🤨 until he saw his phone

the lockscreen was blaringly bright and your 'couple pic' was showing with the notifications

totally not oikawa blowing up their group chat bc he was with you

ofc babie hajime got all flustered and he blushed before shaking his head

'n-no'

he mumbled and his buddy laughed before clapping his back

'well, you obviously like her so do somethinf about it before someone does'

dont you think he doesnt know that?

also with mattsun!

this mans works in a cute cafe that this old granny owns and this thought has been living in my head rent free

and he was working during the weekend at the cafe

there were other people there but granny loves him bc hes been working there sibce he was like 15 and she took care of him a lot

he was like a grandson

so while he was serving, this granny was manning the cashier and checking people out

issei's phone was there on the table behind the counter and it started glowing at the indication of the messages being received

'have a nice day-oh!'

she noticed it right there and she saw the picture on his lockscreen

you were probably being carried by him due to your levelness with his height and you were kissing his cheek while issei smiled brightly

that was a picture you both took during an outing at the mall and the sunset behind you was just perfect to take a picture in

poor granny was like 'oop dont look at the messages' so she turned it over to not go to his privacy

there again you were

it was a polaroid of you two and he was backhugging you at school

hint? 👀

askldfjlsdkf

she knew issei was a very handsome young man so there shouldnt have been a surprise that he would be dating someone

can we name this granny?

granny inko lol

okay so granny inko saw issei coming over to rest the serving board thing and she beckoned him over

mattsun nodded and leaned over the counter to see what she wanted only to be greeted with a flick to the forehead

‘oW what was that for?’

he whined while holding the spot

granny inko tutted disapprovingly before crossing her arms

‘youve been working all week this week when you could’ve taken time off to spend it with your pretty lady. is this how men are nowadays? didn’t i teach you right to treat women properly?’

duh baby mattsun was confused like O_O

‘wha?’

his dumb question made her grab the phone and place it on the counter in front of him

‘your girlfriend, child. women need attention constantly and as much as you want that money, is it worth losing that smile full of happiness?’

okay stop it granny im getting emotional

more like disagreeing bc that wouldnt put food on the table BUT ANYWAYS

baby issei was surprisingly embarassed and scratched his neck

‘um,, baa-chan,,,,, she’s not my girlfriend’

he flustered and gave her an awkward smile

granny inko shot him a confused look and tapped the phone

‘well, she looks like she is. and if not, better hurry your move, boy. girls that make men happy like that only comes as rare as a good scratch ticket’

LMAO 

i do not encourage gambling so please save your money kids

you know what

these boys do that just to actually feel like it

okay thats confusing so imma explain it in greater detail

whenever someone mistakes you as their girlfriend, it makes them feel like you are for that split second and its just an addicting feeling

its like what if you were their girlfriend?

i mean, youre already the whole team’s girlfriend but theyre greedy brats and just want you for themselves

ohohohohoh

kyo!!

kyo def has a selfie of you both with the doggie filter but it was actually you who took it while he was just staring at you in the background

that was his lockscreen for like the rest of his high school career

lol

anyways!!

he was actually in a fight and during it, his phone fell off to the ground and conveniently oikawa messaged causing it to light up

one of the thugs had their hands gripping kyo’s collar and was pushing him against the wall while the others were surrounding them

they saw the phone flash and kyo cursed at the terrible timing and he made a mental note on killing oikawa later

a guy picked it up and he smirked, seeing the pretty smile of a pretty girl

‘heh? whats this?’

kyotani pushed the guy who was holding him but other two surged towards him and held him tighter

their leader snatched the device and chuckled

‘oh. its that bitch from his school. what is it’

he snaps his fingers as he tries to remember before stopping

‘aha! l/n y/n!’

kyo growled

‘shut up!’

the guy grinned at him and tapped the phone against kyo’s chin

‘oh yea. i heard shes a cutie. most people here know her, kid. now we know shes connected to you and guess what. you cross us again, she’ll take your place as you are right now. orrrr, we can,,, use her as our pet. thats how she is in your team, right? so let us have a turn. maybe we can send you a pic, hm?’

yea no that wasnt happening

kyotani easily beat those people up after because even just saying that unleashes power he didnt know he had

‘bastard. youre lucky this is just a warning. you touch her and i will kill you’

he landed one last kick on the guy’s face before taking the phone and leaving

now he has to figure out how to hide the bruises

you fussed later and he didnt tell you the reason instead just saying they said something that made him angry

nah

you were a person he didnt want to disappoint and he knows how much it hurts you to see him in that state

that was one of the things he hated but loved at the same time

you were such an empath that you would treat him and wince as if you were the one feeling the pain instead of him

and it made him feel special

you were one of the few things he holds close and he would be damned if anything happened to you because of him

the group chat was actually just blowing up with more screaming and the third years yelling at each other with the first years just casually reading the texts

they were used to the arguments within the team and you would remain so naive with the whole thing

kunimi is the type to keep silent and he didnt really care about anyone getting angry if you were spending time with him

but he does get annoyed if you were with kindaichi because you three were a package lol

like when kindaichi and you were at the arcade, this kid walked all the way there just because he didnt want kindaichi to hog you to himself

duh you thought this was adorable and endearing bc they wanted to hang out w you

no LUV theyre greedy brats who gets jealous over yOU

OH

so like i mentioned before that you and makki would walk over to the bakery and you guys would buy food there and such

and its also canon in here that makki only shares his food with you and no one else lol

why?

because when you eat the puffs, you put one in each cheek and it makes you look so adorable like a squirrel

sorry but squirrels are so cute like AAAAA

makki takes so many pictures of you and a lot are surprise shots where your eyes would be wide with cheeks full of food

aaaaa so cute

like you and makki sat down on a bench in the park across the bakery and you excitedly dug in to your own treat

makki chuckled at your excitement but he placed his hand on you arm to stop you

‘y/n-chan. say aaa’

you lit up and let him put the puff in your mouth and thought he was done but was surprised when there were two

you happily chewed it and went back to looking at your treats

but makki interrupted you again by calling you out

‘princess~’

the nickname made your eyes widen with red painting your cheeks and the shutter of the camera made you realize what he did

‘makki-senpai!’

you whined and he laughed

makki had a lovestruck smile on his face and he wiped the bit of creme on the corner of your lip

‘gotta take care of my princess~’

STOPPPPP MY HEART? GONE MY SOUL? GONE HOTEL? TRIVAGO

OH MY GOD IM IN SUCH A MAKKI AND MATTSUN AND IWA AND OIKAWA AND THIRD YEARS IN GENERAL BRAIN ROT PLEASE HELP

but we gotta give love to the second years :’)

ive mentioned that watari is the only person to ever go into your house right?

well, he comes over to cook and such so you guys spend time making food for the team 

watari takes this opportunity to take pictures of you cooking and the group chat cries bc its so domestic and they all start having the same thoughts

they really said seijoh braincells

it was like seeing a glimpse of a possible future for them

you, wearing an apron, cooking on the stove with your hair thrown in whatever with baggy clothes

gosh

thats like you someday being their wife and waking up one morning to see you there cooking in the kitchen

oikawa swears he had a dream that night because of that picture and he continuously thanks watari for YEARS because of that picture

okay are you curious about the dream?

yuhhh

oikawa woke up in an unfamiliar bed in a foreign room 

he felt his bones crack when he stretched and his hand extended out to a side that was still quite warm

hm

somebody must be sleeping next to him

then he stood up, catching his reflection in the mirror in front of the bed

;)

why would there be a mirror there hmmmm????

ANYWAYS

he noticed he had a bigger build and his hair was longer

then came the itch of the facial hair that he swore wasnt there a minute ago

this guy even checked out his butt and to his surprise, wow

obviously he was confused and a part of him thought this was the future

tooru walked to the door to go into the hallway and concluded, yep, this was not his house

then he heard music being played somewhere and a mixture of voices coming from a room

sounded like a woman and children

he stops at the top of the stairs, suddenly hit of the thought that this voice was so familiar

‘hm?’

tooru walked downstairs and stopped when down the hallway in front of the steps led to the kitchen where the voices seemed to lead to

‘mama! mama! mama! toast! i wan toast!’

‘in a bit, darling. just let me finish flipping the pancake’

the song was lo-fi with the volume being turned low enough to hear the voices fine

tooru wandered down the hallway and he stopped, finally seeing the owners of those voices

there was a handsome little boy sitting on the chair by the island and his brown hair was a mess of wild curls

there was a woman with h/c hair swaying to the tune and a beautiful little girl curled up in her arms while sitting on her hip

‘hey’

oikawa spoke out and caught everyone’s attention

‘papa’s awake!’

‘pa!’

‘hello tooru’

tooru froze

that was you

he knows it’s you

‘y/n-chan’

he whispered and you looked back at him from the pan

‘yes? if youre looking for coffee, we ran out apparently’

that was not what he was talking about

he hastily walked over to the boy and he blinked rapidly

‘you look like me’

he mumbled and the child grinned

‘eung! papa  and yozo look the same! mama and nana say so!’

yozo?

feeling like all the attention was on him, the little girl whined and her hands made grabby motions to him

‘pa pa’

she whined and tooru just felt something in him that screamed to hold the kid

you shushed the little girl

‘dont worry, looney loon. papa’s right there’

loon?

tooru stayed frozen at his spot and you raised an eyebrow at him

‘tooru? luna wants you’

oh

luna

that snapped him out of his trance and he held the little girl in his arms where she smiled at him and then he felt tears welling up in his eyes

then he woke up

okay sorry that was a long dream

so this dragged on for so long already okay

this was only meant to be small but aaaaa i couldnt help itt!!!!

but anyways!

the boys are just simps for you and theyre creeps that take pictures of you and they think about you all the time pls accept their love

also a mild continuation of the dream:

oikawa was holding luna and she was happily laying there when another figure emerged from the hallway

‘iwa-chan?’

he asked, surprised

what was he doing here?

iwa heard his name and grunted before going to a beeline for you

you smiled at him and he leaned in to give you a kiss to which oikawa froze in

iwa noticed his best friend holding his daughter and luna saw her father there

‘daddy!’

she shrieked and tooru blanched

‘uh, what?’

iwa extended his hands out to hold the girl but tooru held her tightly and leaned back

haji narrowed his eyes

‘um, give me my daughter, oikawa’

he grumbled and tooru shook his head

‘no! shes my daughter!’

you blinked

‘your god daughter, yes. but she’s half of your best friend, tooru’

half of his-

god? daughter?

‘so that means-’

‘piece it together, oikawa. did ya get brain damage or something? babe, call the doctor’

oikawa screamed

a/n: lol look WHO ROSE FROM THE GRAVEEEEEEE :) anyways. i really want to deeply apologize to everyone for taking an unexpected break and i shouldve told you guys and im really sorry :( everythings just chaotic lmao and im just like taking a breath for a second uwu and im so AMAZED at how many people still follow me even tho ive been gone for so long like bls yall are real ones :’) i love you all and the req box is still closed at this time as i need to finish the ones i have first soo thankyou for reading thiss and hopefully ill update soonerr!!! :)))

also not me completely messing up my kuws and missing 8 and 9 in my masterlist and having a mindblowing realization that i have 10 keeping up with seijoh fics

[alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer]

champagne problems (part 1)

here's my first part of my modern no magic "champagne problems" singer-songwriter quarantine thomastair AU! happy birthday to @foxglove-airmid even though I don't think it's your birthday where you live anymore (and I still haven't posted zia's birthday fic, it'll happen I swear)!

no content warnings for this part (besides maybe quarantine), but future parts will include discussions of mental illness, substance abuse, and a suicide attempt

obviously, the song alastair "wrote" in the fic is not mine, it's by taylor swift! and a few of the lyrics have been changed!

Masterlist | AO3

Thomas breathed out a sigh of relief as he lugged his suitcase up onto the fifth floor landing.

“‘Ere we are,” Piers announced as he unlocked the door.

Thomas was utterly exhausted, such was the result of taking a redeye flight across the Atlantic during a global pandemic, but any idea of rest that he’d had was interrupted when he heard the sound of piano flood the apartment.

“Ah, sorry about that,” Piers nodded, “One of my flatmates, the walls are paper thin. He can’t record at the studio right now, but he’s trying to finish his EP, so it’s been a bit noisier around here. He’ll take a break soon, hopefully.”

Thomas shook his head. “It’s no problem. Thank you, again, for allowing me to stay here. I’ll be looking for my own place as soon as the quarantine is up.”

“Of course. You’ve got the couch as long as you need it. Couldn’t just hang you out to dry, could I? Although, you did pick a god awful time to move to the city, if I do say so myself.”

Thomas sat down on the couch and tried to make himself comfortable. It was more comfortable than the flight or the airport, at least. “I know… I considered postponing the move, but the visa was so difficult to get, I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity. They say this will all blow over in a couple of weeks, but borders are closing and I heard talk of them suspending all pending visa applications. I didn't know how long it would be if I waited, if the job was even still here for me at all.” Although at first entrance, the music had seemed to be a nuisance, it now comforted him. It wasn’t bad at all, in fact, it quite reminded him of the days Alastair’s playing had filled their flat…

“Where did you say you were working again? At a record company?”

“Yeah. I’m just doing pretty basic stuff for now, but if I ever do want to record my own music, I’ve got to start somewhere.”

“Hm,” Piers said, gesturing to the room the music was coming from. “Perhaps you’ll get on with him well, then. Would you like some tea?”

Thomas nodded and Piers went to start the teapot. Piers continued, “Though I suppose he's more of the tortured artist type. Very reserved, quite prickly. I didn't even meet him until a couple weeks after I moved in here because he was off in some psychiatric hospital.” Thomas shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was never one for gossip. “My other roommate’s nice, though, I think you’ll like him. He-”

“How did you end up in New York, again? I don’t think I ever asked.”

Piers dove into the subject change quite readily, explaining his uni - or college - years in New York City and his decision to stay afterwards. Thomas had tuned most of it out, truthfully. It wasn’t that he was trying to be rude, but he was rather exhausted, and Piers was wearing thin on his patience.

As the kettle started to whine, Thomas heard the musician begin to sing, and he froze. It sounded so much like Alastair. But it couldn't be, could it? With over 8 million people living in the city, he would not end up in Alastair's apartment by accident. His Alastair was certainly reserved and prickly, but it wasn't possible. It must be like all those times he thought he saw him on a street he'd never walked or heard his laugh in a café he'd never been to. Just his mind, tricking him. Even if he knew that voice so well, despite not hearing it in so long.

“It’s quite good, isn’t it? His first single just dropped.” Piers asked, bringing over his cup of tea. He hadn’t realized it, but he’d been staring intently at the door.

Thomas took the cup. “Hm? Yeah, I guess. Thanks.”

“You should look it up. It’s called “champagne problems” by Simurgh. That’s spelled- Well, it should come up.”

The name Simurgh sounded familiar, but Thomas couldn’t put his finger on where he knew it from. At Piers’ insistence, he pulled out his phone and brought up the song. As he skimmed through the first few lines, a cold feeling settled in his stomach.

“You booked the night train for a reason So you could sit there in this hurt Bustling crowds or silent sleepers You're not sure which is worse”

“Simurgh,” Thomas realized.

“Yeah, I think it’s Arabic or something.”

It took Thomas a moment to process that Piers was responding to him. “It’s Persian.” He was certain that Alastair would have some very stern words to say if he heard Piers confusing the two, actually. Thomas had admittedly let his Farsi skills deteriorate quite a bit since the breakup, but he was fairly certain the name came from the Shahnameh. There was no doubt in Thomas’ mind now: he was staying in Alastair’s apartment, and Alastair’s first single was about one of the most painful days in Thomas’ life. “I, er, I used to study it.”

“Oh, yes, that’s right!” Piers launched into a tangent that Thomas tuned out as he read through the rest of the page.

“Because I dropped your hand while dancing Left you out there standing Crestfallen on the landing Champagne problems”

“Thomas? Are you alright?”

He realized then that his hand was trembling so badly that his tea nearly spilled. He used his other hand to steady it. “Oh, uh, yes, I’m just tired.”

“Perhaps you should rest. I can ask Alastair to quiet down for a while-”

“No!” he exclaimed rather too forcefully. “No, that’s not necessary. I’d just rather not talk, if that’s alright.”

Piers nodded.

Thomas kept reading.

“Your mom's ring in your pocket My picture in your wallet Your heart was glass, I dropped it Champagne problems”

Of all the songs, why did he release the one about him? Why was it about a memory still so painful in Thomas’ heart, all of these years later? He remembered it so well, standing there, alone, shattered into a million pieces.

“You told your family for a reason You couldn't keep it in Your sister splashed out on the bottle Now no one's celebrating”

He was fairly certain that Barbara had been more excited than even he was, confident that Alastair would accept, and so very proud of her baby brother, all grown up. She’d been furious when it fell apart, but it was her who stood with him during the aftermath, who boarded him onto a train to Edinburgh to visit Eugenia when he couldn’t stand to be in the same city as him any longer, who went through his phone, blocking all of Alastair’s accounts so that he could obsess over him no longer, who comforted him as he wept and held him as he picked the pieces of himself back up again.

And all the more sour was the memory in light of her death.

“Dom Pérignon, you brought it No crowd of friends applauded Your hometown skeptics called it Champagne problems”

He looked up at Piers, who had fortunately become enthralled with something on his phone and was no longer paying Thomas any mind. He lifted the teacup gingerly to his lips, but he felt far too sick to take a drink.

“You had a speech, you're speechless Love slipped beyond your reaches And I couldn't give a reason Champagne problems”

A reason, that’s all Thomas had wanted. Just any explanation. He understood if they were moving too fast, or perhaps he’d misread something, but he just didn’t understand it.

Why? Why can’t you tell me why? I deserve an explanation, Alastair. Please, anything.

I… I’m sorry, Thomas.

Stop it! Stop apologizing! We can just go home and pretend this never happened, please, forget about all of it, it was a stupid idea-

Thomas, stop. I shouldn’t’ve… This was a mistake. I’m sorry I didn’t see that sooner.

That was the moment Thomas felt his heart stop beating.

“Your Midas touch on the Chevy door November flush and your flannel cure "This dorm was once a madhouse" I made a joke, "Well, it's made for me" How evergreen, our group of friends Don't think we'll say that word again And soon they'll have the nerve to deck the halls That we once walked through”

Despite the nearly two decades Thomas had spent in London before Alastair, it was never the same without him. He saw him everywhere he went, despite knowing he was thousands of miles away. After graduating uni that May, he accepted a spot at a graduate program in Spain and didn’t look back.

“One for the money, two for the show I never was ready so I watch you go Sometimes you just don't know the answer 'Til someone's on their knees and asks you "You’re the only one I want by my side, What a shame you’re fucked in the head," you said”

Those were the words that haunted Thomas’ nightmares, even now.

It’s you! It’s only you for me! It was always going to be you! But I can see now that I was never going to be enough for you, you and your secrets and walls and your lies. It’s a shame… it’s a shame you’re so fucked in the head, Alastair. You’ll never truly love anyone, will you? You’re not physically capable of it.

Alastair hadn’t responded. Thomas had wanted a rise out of him, any reaction at all, despite knowing how lethal and volatile Alastair could become when provoked. But there was nothing. Not a flicker of anything in his steeled expression. He’d simply looked down, apologized again for any pain that he’d caused, and left.

That was the last time they’d spoken.

Thomas and his sister left for Edinburgh that night, and when he’d returned to London, Alastair was gone.

“Well, you'll find the real thing instead Who'll patch up your tapestry that I shred And hold your hand while dancing Never leave you standing Crestfallen on the landing With champagne problems”

Thomas couldn’t imagine giving his heart to anyone again, not now and certainly not then. He’d dated in Madrid, but it had always stayed casual. He’d made sure of it. He could see now that he and Alastair had gotten together quickly, moved in together quickly, done all of it very quickly. After all, he’d fallen hard and fast. He gave all of himself to Alastair, and he’d nearly lost all of himself in the process.

“Your mom's ring in your pocket New picture in your wallet You won't remember all my Champagne problems

“You won't remember all my Champagne problems”

Now, he wondered what the rest of the story was. He’d convinced himself that Alastair had never loved him, that he was heartless and cruel, though he’d known that wasn’t true. Could Alastair have written this song if he’d never truly loved him? Perhaps he was a sociopath.

Thomas felt like he should run. Like he should pick up his bag and dart out of the apartment before Alastair could notice him, find some hotel somewhere with undoubtedly extraordinary high rates and just pretend like this never happened. He could get back on a plane and go back home to his parents and delete his phone browser history and pretend like this was all just a bad dream. But he could not move.

He didn’t know how many minutes had passed before Alastair’s door opened. He looked up with a start.

“Thomas,” Alastair breathed. He stood wide eyed, flushed.

“Do you two already know each other then?” Piers asked.

There was a moment of silence before Thomas cleared his throat. “We used to,” he said, looking down.

“I, er, I forgot that your friend was coming today,” Alastair told Piers. “It’s quite a long journey from London, you should have told me, I would have been quieter.”

Thomas considered correcting him for a moment, but decided not to. “Don’t worry about it. I heard you had your first big release. Congratulations.”

Alastair gave an awkward nod. “Thank you. Right, well, I’ll just…” He rushed over to the kitchen and pulled a bottle of water from the fridge. “I’ll try to be a bit quieter.”

“Don’t- It’s fine, really. In fact, I’m sure there’s some hotel in the area I can stay at for now, actually-”

“Well, don’t leave on my account,” Alastair interrupted. “We agreed to let you stay here, and the city’s a bloody mess right now. I’ll stay out of your hair, Thomas.”

Thomas only nodded as Alastair disappeared back behind his bedroom door.

Thanks for reading! Taglist (ask to be +/-): @stxr-thxif @chaos-and-starlight @zosiaenrique @lifewouldbebetteronmars @littlx-songbxrd @dianasarrow @eugeniaslongsword @bookswitchcraftandcats @jamesherondaleofficial @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @livingformyself @anarmorofwords @foxglove-airmid @writeforjordelia @sapphic-in @jem-nasium @fortheloveofthecarstairs @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @shadowrunner2000 @thewarthatsavedmylife @fair-childd @itsjusta-j-really

[evakuality]

Matteo - Episode three

Social Media - There’s so much of it this week!  At the time, I only followed a couple of accounts and then only saw the rest when it was posted to the tag.  I think I’m grateful for that.  This is absolutely overwhelming, the sheer volume of things the characters were putting out.  But it’s also really nice that we get all this normal teenage life stuff.  It really does allow an immersive ‘this is real people doing real stuff’ feeling to everything.  Particularly people like Kiki and Sam who have little to do with the plot.  It keeps them real and alive through a season where they were a bit more sidelined (and I love that Matteo and David’s little trip later on keeps them alive in a way that doesn’t overpower Amira’s season - this is a really clever way for the producers to keep fan favourites active without having to shoehorn them into places where they don’t belong).  I am also a bit concerned about some of this though - how on earth did the boys not get in trouble for filming the dancing girls and posting it to social media?  At most schools I know that would have resulted in some serious discipline action.  However, the most fascinating thing about the social media is the party at the end of the episode.  Sara didn’t start posting much on her stuff until much later in the evening (the reason this post is so late is because I was waiting to watch through all the social media before I worked with it - and there was so much for so long that I was able to notice the patterns in it in a way I didn’t at the time) and then Leonie took over and it was interesting what she chose to show and how non-perfect it all was compared to what Sara was trying to do before she got really incapacitated.  I know it’s not technically part of this episode but the text string between the two of them the next day where Sara panics over how Matteo might take seeing her in such a sloppy drunken state is very telling.  She really really wants to put on a show to make sure he’s not turned off by her not being ‘perfect’ - again, this is all very subtly done but there’s a really strong push to show how much of what is put onto social media isn’t a real and true depiction of who we really are.  And of course that’s most important for Matteo himself.  He’s still very actively putting on a front and it’s only partly to try to cover for the fact that he’s interested in boys not girls.  He’s really not happy or at ease with pretty much any aspect of himself, but he’s also not really willing to show it to anyone.  Except David.  Which we’ll see as we go through the clips.

Clip one - Matteo’s shelf in the fridge is so sad!  Someone (a parent maybe?) should really be making sure he has food and is looking after himself.  We touched a bit last episode on food and nurturing and what we see here is Matteo very much not nurturing himself.  Even more so than Sara, he has no care for his own wellbeing.  Also he’s relying heavily on other people (Hans in this case) to do the heavy lifting for him.  It’s also a major contrast to the playful, if disgusting, sandwich he made with David.  Here it’s really just about putting something in to his body and there’s no thought for anything other than basic survival.  Which is, tbh, a good metaphor for Matteo’s approach to his life at this time.  The chat with Mia again veers close to things that are difficult for Matteo - he’s wearing David’s beanie, trying to get that bit of closeness to him, but then Mia starts asking awkward questions about why the kitchen was so terrible and what Matteo was up to and it’s all a bit tough.  Matteo tries again to deflect and lie to cover his tracks.  Which... is he ever going to learn?  This lying is forever getting him in hot water when he’s caught out.  Jonas even calls him out on it, basically saying ‘if you’re going to use me as an excuse then give me a heads up first’ showing that he has Matteo’s back, but is incapable of helping him if he won’t help himself.  At this point, of course, Matteo has closed off because there’s a lot he finds too hard to talk about but Jonas is already giving those hints that he’d be there for Matteo if only Matteo would let him be.  But at least Mia’s pushing serves one purpose - Matteo makes contact with David again and they manage to connect and get over the little hitch that David’s ditching caused.  Both are still hiding bits of themselves from each other (David more so obviously), but both are quite happy to make these connections and are comfortable with each other.  That David responds is so nice; it sets up the dynamic so different to the original and Matteo is much more secure in David’s friendship than Isak was with Even at this point just because of this.  Then of course Matteo does the gay test, and it’s clear he already knows but he’s just sort of trying to work through some things.  It leads to some of the things he says later that are quite unfortunate (both to the boys about the dance teacher in this episode and to Hans later about the ways to be gay), but I think there’s a genuine desire to figure out what gay might look like rather than any truly homophobic stuff.  societal expectations and stereotypes and our own internal biases mess with us big time!!

Clip two - There’s not a lot of difference with the dancing girls clip, but it’s nice to see David again and the interactions between him and Matteo are a lot more natural than with Isak and Even.  I guess because these two are in the same year, it’s much easier to pass off knowing each other and so Matteo really is a lot more casual than Isak ever was.  The tone of the ‘why does he have to be so gay’ is different here too - Matteo’s much more low key and subdued when he’s called out on ‘why do we insult gays’ and he’s apologising fairly quickly.  It really is much more obvious that he’s trying to work out what ‘gay’ is than trying to distance himself from the idea of being gay.  He has a lot of issues and a lot of stuff to work through but it’s entrenched in an entirely different way to the og even though the words are almost exactly the same.  The power of acting and body language!!  Of course, this makes sense for both characters too - Isak and Matteo have different experiences and different lives and so they each act in a way that makes sense for them.  I’m super impressed that the same conversation can look so different - both actors are very very good.

Clip three - This scene with Matteo and Sara works much better for me than the one with Isak and Emma.  But perhaps that’s because Sara is allowed to be much more of a rounded character rather than a plot device.  We can say all we like (and Leonie is so clearly right there with us) that Sara needs to wake up and see how badly Matteo is treating her, but the way this is developing makes it clear why she thinks and acts the way she does and we can have a lot of sympathy for her even while rolling our eyes at how obviously this is not working out.  This right here is the moment where Matteo really should have said ‘yeah sorry, this isn’t working for me’ but he chooses not to because he still wants that security of having ‘someone’ if the thing with David turns out the way he expects it to (eg, David and Leonie being a thing).  He wants the ability to hide and say ‘see, there was nothing there, I have a girlfriend so I’m not at all upset that David has one too’ and it’s shitty behaviour and it’s totally unfair to Sara, but at this point Matteo can’t see beyond his own needs.  Sara is very clearly not happy with the situation and she rightly feels sidelined and unappreciated but she is still willing to accept his word when she puts those words into his mouth.  She’s still invested in this fantasy in her head and she is carefully scripting it so that it goes the way she wants it to.  Like last week when she was talking over Matteo to avoid hearing anything he’s saying, here she’s literally telling him what to say to get the outcome she wants.  Leonie has quite obviously got a better handle on the situation, but Sara doesn’t want to hear it.  Sara, again bless her, is very open about what she wants and needs from a relationship and how she’s feeling.  She refuses to take Matteo’s very half-hearted attempt at sweet talking her at face value and demands some accountability.  But it’s the very nature of those demands that sets her doom.  She tells him what she needs and he gives it to her - only it’s a very pale and weak imitation of what she would really like.  He uses her communication skills to play her.

Clip four - I loathe how no-one takes Matteo’s wants and needs into account, pretty much ever.  He’s in such a rut of being used to just going with the flow that even when he tries to assert his own wants people straight up ignore him.  It’s sad that he allows Kiki etc to basically commandeer his home for their party but it’s very much in keeping with how everything else is going.  Last week, Kiki was super irritated because she had a picture of how things were going to go (they would have their event and Matteo would host it) and she couldn’t deal with things not being under her control.  I suspect that if Sara hadn’t been with them and hadn’t done the speaking for Matteo, he would have been bullied into doing what she wanted then too.  He clearly doesn't want to do this , but at least he uses it as a way to get closer to David.  ‘Well, this party idea sucks, but maybe I can get this guy I like there’ and so he goes right up to him and invites him.  While he’s quite checked out of significant parts of his life, when Matteo really wants something he’s not scared of going after it.  Of course, as we see in later events, this gets him in trouble at times.  But for right now it’s nice to see him taking some small control of his life.  This is only possible, of course, because he was able to connect with David fairly quickly after he left last week.  The fact that they are able to do this is testament to how easily they do understand each other and even while its awkward, this relationship doesn’t have the underlying tensions that the one with Sara does.  It’s awkward in a positive way.

Clip five - there’s lots going on in this one.  The studying and how little interest and engagement Matteo has with it.  The consequent stalking of David on Sara’s account, the flow over into looking for David’s favourite movie, and of course Hans and his intrusion into Matteo’s quiet space again and then his attempt at using grindr.  It’s a slow, fairly quiet clip and yet Matteo ends up doing a lot in it.  It shows again, I think, just how much he values his time by himself and how much it works for him to be allowed to do things at his own pace.  I’ve said before I really enjoy seeing the characters in their own environments being chill and just hanging with themselves.  It shows us a lot of how they are.  In this case, Matteo moves very quickly from the boredom of the studying to things he has more interest in.  Like David.  He’s restless and disengaged, using all of his tricks to try to distract himself (playing with plants etc) and then very quickly giving up on what he should do.  I like that we get these sorts of smaller, lower key indications of how much David means to him as well.  It’s not big grandiose expressions of interest, but he watches the movie because David likes it.  He can’t even let himself stare at the picture for too long because it feels like a huge admission (he literally breaks eye contact with it and looks away the way he often does with David himself).  It’s in these unguarded moments in his own space that we really see Matteo and he’s a mess, but he’s a mess who really does want connection and to find meaning with someone.  

Clip six - We all love this one, right?  It’s such a nice moment with David and their almost-kissing is very intense.  But there’s a lot going on before that that I also want to look at.  First, the way the boys call Matteo a ‘player’?????? how???? That’s his girlfriend?????  He is playing her and stringing her along when he shouldn’t, but he’s not playing the field which is generally what we mean when we say this sort of thing.  He has one girl and that one girl has made it pretty clear that he is hers.  In many ways Matteo would be better off if he was playing the field - then there’s no expectations and he gets a rep as a ladies man.  But this works better for him - he can sort of fall into it and follow along with it without having to put any effort in at all.  She literally speaks for him, even.  I have always found it fascinating how much Matteo keeps to himself in this clip.  He hugs the walls like they’re his home and Sara is out there in the middle and there’s such a disconnect between the way they’re both acting.  How would Matteo have coped with the expectations Sara outlines about sex had she not got so blind drunk she had to be taken home?  It seems like it would have led to something very awkward and maybe she’d have finally got the picture.

Laura's little visit to see Matteo is cute too.  Obviously she knows that David is interested and so she checks him out.  It’s a shame it’s interrupted by Hans who then monopolises Matteo, but she was quite deliberate in finding him and speaking with him and I love the sibling support.  David’s shirt he chooses to appeal to Matteo is hilarious too.  The thought process (and the discussions with Laura at home beforehand) must have been brilliant.  ‘I always wear black and am mysterious and aloof and cool, but to attract this boy I will wear a white shirt with a stupid picture on it’ - that it does attract Matteo just shows how attuned David is to his future boyfriend.  Maybe he’s stalking the instagrams too - the Matteo Monday and Florenzi Friday do suggest that this is something that might appeal to Matteo.  

Hans and Andi bother me too.  In much the same way that I dislike that Sara assumes that Matteo not wanting sex with her means he’s gay (like?  It’s okay not to want sex!!  It doesn’t say anything about your sexuality), I don’t like that Hans has talked about Matteo to Andi and allows him to be so forward and aggressively sexual with someone who is very obviously not willing to be out.  I know Hans is trying to be there for Matteo and to encourage him to accept himself (I think it’s pretty clear that he knows or thinks Matteo likes guys).  But this is a party with all of Matteo’s friends.  What did they think would happen?  Why did they think he’d react in any way other than the one he does?  Hans looks confused when Matteo pushes away and leaves, but why?  This behaviour is entirely consistent with everything we know of his character. That it ends in an actual panic attack makes it all much more sad and difficult to watch.  Honestly, outing people when they’re not ready is not cool and Hans should know this.

The panic attack itself is so well done.  There’s no dialogue and yet we can see very obviously how Matteo is feeling and just how ‘normal’ this is to him.  He has a set of behaviours that he follows to try to take the edge off.  He throws things (this is his go-to when he’s stressed and he does it a LOT), he tries weed and he finally tries music and sitting by himself, cuddling a cushion for comfort.  I know a million people have discussed this at length, but I don’t think we can speak about this clip without at least touching on it.  Everything about it is done so well and it all combines to allow Matteo’s feelings to shine through.  I love that it’s allowed to happen at a party and that we see very clearly how these things can be overwhelming for characters.  I won’t go on anymore, but it’s just great and the acting is so perfect.  I genuinely think this small part of this clip is probably my favourite acting out of everything in this show.

And then of course we have the stuff after everyone else has left.  Again, a million people have discussed this in a million ways, but I love how this scene again shows how easily they get each other, how good they are at communicating with each other and how quickly they get on the same page.  Matteo has no trouble at all saying what he thinks and pressing for information.  This parallels Sara in some ways - she is like this with Matteo, making her wants and needs clear and putting herself on the line.  Again, this is all very good set up for later on when Matteo finally finds himself in her position and realises just how much his behaviour hurt her because he’s living her side.  However, unlike Matteo, David is quite clear and honest back.  And that’s why they can so quickly move into a potential kiss.  As with Matteo and Sara, there are close ups as they lean into each other, but somehow it feels like there’s more space for them to breathe here.  The camera allows them both to be in the frame naturally, whether Sara is often invading into Matteo’s shots.  Here, they’re both on board and both want it.  I like that Matteo gets a moment to be open and himself after his experience with Andi.  It must take a lot of courage to do this after he was so badly affected earlier.  Testament to David’s calming presence which reassures rather than pushes, and how honest they are with each other - there’s no way David could miss how relieved Matteo is when he finds out that Laura is David’s sister not his girlfriend.  They’re both very brave here - David for telling Matteo he looks good and Matteo for trying to take that next step even after his panic attack.   And I think that’s a nice place to leave this.  Because that’s already such a lot and this has all already been said before.  

[peterprkrsbtch]

sapphire - part 2

Peter Parker x reader

A/n: Part 1 is up on my page! There’s a couple flashbacks in this one so I put the dates before so it doesn’t get confusing. If you enjoy this one, like or reblog to share! I already wrote part 3 and it’s my favorite one yet so that’ll def be up soon :)

tag- @juliannaamonroe​

Warnings: swearing, make out, violence

(September 1)

We’re one minute away. Come out hoe!

You smile as you read the text, glancing at yourself in the mirror again, nerves and excitement ablaze in your stomach. You’d been planning for this day since last winter, and now it was finally here. You adjust your carefully styled hair and double check that the natural makeup you applied was sitting on your skin correctly.

Of course it was. That goddamn injection sometimes made you feel like a vampire out of twilight and sometimes you still got surprised when you saw your own face while passing a mirror or a particularly reflective window. You smooth down the ruffles of your short black skirt and tug the top of your tank top down so a bit more of your curves show.

You put on your white sneakers and tug your shirt back up to cover your chest again. We’ll have to work up to that, I guess. A long honk sounds from outside your apartment building and you curse as you scramble to grab your backpack and phone before running down and out the front steps.

“Awwww,” You say sweetly at the sight of the two girls who had become your best friends. “That’s the shirt you were wearing when we met, Ally.” You jokingly brush away a tear, pretending to be ultra touched.

“Best damn day of my life.” Ally says from her spot in the drivers seat, laughing at your dramatics. She may be joking around, but her sentiment makes your heart clench. This year really was going to be different.

***

(July 3)

You quickly realized you needed to find some Midtown friends if your plan for senior year was going to work. If you dared to show up looking, well, like you do, completely alone and friendless, you might become even more of an outcast than you were before. The first month of summer had been the least lonely time of your year so far, thanks to a certain Spiderman.

The two of you spent most of your nights together, flying through the city, fighting crime together, and talking. The “slow” nights that used to fill you with boredom quickly became your favorite when he was involved. The sound of his laugh and the jokes he makes during fights quickly became the highlight of your days.

But you couldn’t let yourself get too distracted by him. After all, neither of you knew what the other looked like. The only other boy you’d ever found remotely cute (other than celebrities) was nerdy Peter Parker from your high school. He wasn’t your usual type and he seemed to be just as shy as you were, so you had little (zero) hope that it would ever lead to anything more than a smile during the hallway if you accidentally made eye contact.

Sorry Spiderman, but no way in hell are you gonna make me lose my focus. The loneliness you had felt through the last three years of high school was too much. Your plan had to work. So that night as the two of you patrolled together, you softly mentioned that you were going to a pool party tomorrow and wouldn’t be able to meet.

He seemed a bit disappointed, but you brushed it off, trying to remember the names of the girls at your school who seemed nice. Peter, however, couldn’t focus on anything other than the fact that you had told him where you would be tomorrow. There was only so many pool parties in a city like New York.

You tried not to think about who was under the Spiderman mask out of respect and, to be honest, it seemed like a pointless endeavor. Peter was not the same. No matter how tired he was from patrol, he always had time to lay awake before he fell asleep and picture what you would look like under the mask.

There wasn’t very many people who understood Peter’s secret life. None, actually, until you. Maybe that was why he was so intrigued by you, because you were so similar, but in his heart he knew that wasn’t it. He liked you. And he hated himself for it. But once you mentioned the pool party, he made sure to take one long last glance at the color of your hair before you two said goodbye. Just in case he happened to see that same hair tomorrow.

(July 4)

You were so, so nervous. Your closet of exclusively sweats and hoodies was trashed as Part 1 of your plan, much to your mother’s happiness. She had always been honest about her hatred of your junior year clothes and was extremely excited to purchase everything you needed. As distant as she was, you had to give her a little credit.

Although you’d been wearing the new clothes for the past month, this was the first time you were doing it so publicly. Your denim shorts exposed miles of smooth leg, and you’d decided to wear a red tube top in honor of the holiday-not to mention it really showed off your curves. You’d meticulously done your hair and makeup like you’d been practicing the past month and prayed that somebody would talk to you today.

You’d seen the flyer for the Fourth of July party on Instagram, which had been step 2. Unfortunately, you had two followers. Your mom and her boyfriend. Step 2 is a work in progress.

One long walk later, and you’re in front of the address. You swear you could explode of nerves right there, but instead you take a deep breath and force your legs to carry you inside the house and towards the people out by the pool.

Your eyes are so focused on your destination, the glass sliding door, that you barely notice when you bump shoulders with someone, causing you to drop your phone.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You say, reaching down to grab your phone.

“Oh my god, stop. That was totally my fault.” You stand back up to see the girl who was speaking, and you recognize her immediately. Her name is Ally, and she’s a part of the most popular group at school. Despite her long black hair and sweet smile, you haven’t heard many good things about her. Not the type of person you were looking for.

“Do you go to Midtown? I don’t think I’ve seen you around.” Ally says, making no move to walk away from the conversation.

“Yeah, actually. My name is Y/n?” You don’t miss the way her eyebrows raise and her eyes widen with confusion and shock. You’re embarrassed now, realizing maybe you weren’t as invisible as you’d thought. In an effort to explain away the last few years, “My dad left a couple years ago and it was pretty hard on me, but I’m all better now.” You flash the most dazzling smile you can manage and hope she accepts it.

“No way, mine did too!” She gasps as she grabs your hands. You feel a small pang of guilt at that. It was a lie, you had no idea who your dad was and frankly, you didn’t think your mom knew either.

The conversation starts to flow between you and Ally easily as you make your way out to the pool. “This is my best friend Betty.” Ally introduces you to the sweet-as-pie girl and the three of you quickly fall into a conversation like you’d known each other forever. A few of their guy friends tried to come up and talk to you, but she just waved them away. “Leave us alone, we just met our new best friend.”

You felt bad for judging Ally so harshly earlier, blindly trusting the stupid rumors you’d heard about her. Popular or not, the three of you got along better than any of the other friends you’d tried to make throughout your life. They do briefly make fun of your instagram before forcing you to take and post pictures with the two of them by the pool. They both tag your account.

Peter didn’t seem to share the good luck you did. He’d dragged Ned to 6 different pool parties across the city and saw no one who looked like Sapphire. Disappointed, he spent the night patrolling alone and dodging fireworks.

***

(September 1)

Since that day, you’d become a trio with Ally and Betty. The day after the pool party you’d woken up to nearly 1,000 followers on your instagram. Everyone from Midtown who never gave you a second look when you had your hood shoved over your head now wanted to be your friend.

The three of you spent the rest of your summer days together, and you fit into the popular friend group better than you could have imagined. Maybe you watched too many teen movies, but you expected them to be mean. The only mean one was Flash, and even he was basically harmless. You’d given up Saturday night patrols with Spiderman for a weekly girls night with your new best friends. You thought having new friends and a bustling social life would’ve made it easier to forget about Spiderman, but somehow he seeped into every area of your life.

That damn laugh. As Ally and Betty sing along to the radio loudly, you bite your lip to stop a dumb smile from rising to your lips. God, just thinking about him made you flustered. As Ally drives into the school parking lot, nerves bubble in your stomach.

As if you aren’t stressed enough, your brain decides this is the perfect moment to remind you of the one night this summer you and Spiderman haven’t talked about since.

*** (August 14)

The two of you were sprawled out on a gravel rooftop next to each other. Not the most comfortable of relaxing spots, but you’d both grown tired of flying around under the summer heat with no hint of trouble for miles.

“This sucks.” Spiderman huffs out.

“Rude.” You reply quickly, even though you know he isn’t talking about you.

“Oh, no,” He immediately sits up. “I didn’t mean you suck, I just meant, you know, because there’s not much going on right now and it’s hot and-” He sees your cheeky smile and stops himself with a laugh. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s cute.” You bite your lip. The fuck did I just say? Before you can begin to explain, he jumps to his feet.

“Spidey sense, let’s go!” You jump up too and follow after him as he jumps off the building. Thank god. I’ve never been so grateful that someone’s in trouble. The fight was tough, even with the both of you. These men had strange guns that keep firing at you and Spiderman even though you’d tried multiple times to crush them with your powers.

“The guns are magic-proof! I can’t destroy them!” You yell over to Spiderman as you take down one of the men in between punches.

Somehow, two men get ahold of their guns and corner you. Just as you start levitating to fly over them, a web shoots from somewhere behind them and the men and their guns are yanked away. Spiderman wastes no time and you swear he seems angry with the two men as he webs them to the wall next to their friends before picking up the guns and violently smashing them on the ground.

You’re still frozen in shock, watching him. When he seems to be satisfied with the broken pile of guns on the floor, he runs back over to you. “I’m so sorry, I know we promised-” You finally break out of whatever trance you were in to place a finger over his lips, casting a disgusted glance towards the men staring at you from their webbed cocoons.

“Not here.” You say quietly, and fly the two of you quickly up to the roof. He blinks for a second, his head spinning from the speed. You rarely use your full speed, especially with him, but you had to get out of there. “Okay, go ahead.” You say after a second of silence.

“I’m so sorry, I know we agreed not to get in each other’s way, and I know you can handle yourself, probably better than I can. Hold on, I didn’t mean I handle you. That sounded weird. Anyways, I just got so angry when I saw those men pointing their guns at you I had to-” He’s talking about the agreement you two had made when you first started working together. You both obviously were skilled, so you agreed that you wouldn’t interrupt each other’s fights unless asked.

“Spidey, I really don’t care you interrupted. It was hot.” JESUS CHRIST NOT AGAIN. You immediately winced and slap a hand over your mouth. “Oh my god I did NOT mean to say that I’m so sorry.”

Your rambling is cut off as Spiderman’s hand travels up to the bottom of his mask and you think your eyes might fall out of your head with how wide they become as he begins to pull it up, revealing the soft pale skin of his neck.

His jaw, chin, and then lips become visible as he lets the mask rest on his nose. The 0.5 seconds that have passed since you stopped talking feel like an eternity until he suddenly leans forward, crashing his lips into yours. Spiderman is an amazing kisser, you decide, as you gently kiss him back.

WHAT AM I DOING? Your mind is going haywire but instead of stopping, you deepen the kiss and nearly smile when he lets out a low moan. Everything you’ve told yourself about focus and distractions flies out the window when his gloved hands clutch your waist and pull you closer to him than you thought possible.

It feels like it’s only been a second when he pulls away, but your eyes flicker to his swollen lips and you know it must have been longer. You smile as you stare at his lips, only inches from yours, but as your gaze moves to the rest of his exposed skin the smile drops slowly.

Your rational mind comes back. It’s easy to forget when you’re with him that you’ve only known each other a couple months. How could you do this? Your first time making out with a boy, and he doesn’t even know your name.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” You whisper as he starts to say something.  “Sorry, what were you going to say?” He blinks slowly and takes a deep breath before stepping away from you.

“Nevermind. See you tomorrow.” And he swings away from you. You silently curse yourself for being such a big mouth, wanting to know what he would have said. You can’t help the small voice in the back of your head, telling you that you made the wrong decision.

You raise your hand to run your fingers along your tingling lips before flying home as fast as you can.

***

(September 1)

You wince at the painful memory before reminding yourself everything was back to normal the next day and neither of you mentioned it again. You still weren’t sure if that was good or bad. You force all thoughts of Spiderman out of your brain and even give Ally an encouraging cheer when she successfully parks on her first try.

You don’t remember Midtown having so many fucking students last year, but maybe it was because they were all staring at you. Any confidence you’d had as you opened Ally’s car door had disappeared as everyone around you turned to gawk. The bright smile you’d pasted on a second ago quickly fell and you glanced at Ally nervously.

“Come on, girls!” She says enthusiastically, grabbing an arm from you and Betty as she breaks the brief moment of awkward silence. God bless you Ally. As the three of you hoist your bags over your shoulders and make your way into the school, you mouth a quick thank you her way, hoping she can see your genuine appreciation. She smiles at you. “I’m happy we’re going into this year as three instead of two.”

Betty leans forward to smile at you. “Me too, y/n. I’m really happy you’re here.”  You smile back brightly. There really was no one as sweet as Betty.

“You won’t be so happy I’m here when I talk your ear off during class.” The three of you continue laughing and joking your way down the hall to stop at your lockers.

“Oh my god, is that Y/n?” Ned interrupts Peter’s latest ramble about his night with Sapphire. Usually, he really did listen. Ned was fully invested in the superhero love story, as he called it, unfolding. But the sight of a girl notorious for hiding in her own baggy clothes across the hall in a miniskirt and tank top was more important.

“Y/n?” Peter asks, confused why Ned wasn’t paying attention. But when he turned around to see what Ned was staring at, he understood. He’d seen you around school the past three years, but never like this.

You looked like a fucking model. And everyone in the hall couldn’t help but stare. “Holy shit.”

“Right, dude?” Ned breathes out, the two of them shamelessly staring. “Why didn’t that happen to me over summer? Oh my god, of course she’s friends with Betty.”

Peter laughs as his best friend goes on about “two pretty best friends” but he can’t take his eyes off of you. The light in your eyes as you joke with your friends, making them double over in laughter, feels strangely familiar. Or maybe that’s wishful thinking on his part because you’re extremely pretty.

He watches in surprise as you and Ally walk up to the AP Chem classroom, waving goodbye to Betty sadly as she heads off to English. You turn to walk into the classroom after Ally, but you pause and look back down the hallway-right at him. Instead of yelling at him for being a creep like he expected, you smile at him widely before heading into the class. He exhales deeply and glances down at his schedule quickly, a smile appearing. AP Chem.

Of course his thoughts are still consumed by Sapphire, but it was hard to ignore you especially after seeing his name on the seating chart next to yours in the back row. Plus, Sapphire was the one who’d shot him down after he finally tried to make a move after catching onto the hints he thought she’d been dropping.

He felt bad for thinking that about her, he didn’t blame her at all. He knew there was a million reasons they shouldn’t be together-and he didn’t want to know specifics on why he wasn’t good enough. Sapphire hadn’t brought up that night since, and he was fine to pretend it never happened.

You were already in your seat at the lab table, but Ally was still standing next to you waving her hands wildly as you two spoke. He doesn’t want to interrupt so he freezes in place, unsure of whether or not to go sit down. He’d thought you were cute, and a little shy like him in freshman and sophomore year and he remembered the many times he would look at you from across the room like he is now.

His eyes had been quick to find you whenever you two were in the same room ever since the first day of school freshman year when you smiled at him in the hall. Even last year, when all he saw of you was a curled up lump at your desk or a sliver of hair peeking out from behind your hood he still noticed you.

Luckily for him, the bell rings and he slides into his seat just as the teacher begins speaking. “Hi, Peter.” You lean over to him, your shoulders nearly touching, and whisper so the teacher doesn’t hear. “I’m y/n.” You smile warmly as his cheeks and ears turn light pink.

“You don’t have to introduce yourself. We’ve gone to school together since we were 6?” Now it’s your turn to be embarrassed and you purse your lips together.

“No, I know, just-” Peter notices you seem a bit frustrated as you glance around the room and then lean even closer to him. “Everybody thinks I’m new.” You nervously mess with your bracelet.

“You do look a bit different.” He points out and you raise your eyebrows before sighing slowly and shrugging.

“I was just sick of feeling invisible, you know. Not because I care what anyone here thinks. Last year was just, really, really lonely.” Peter watches you intently as you speak, hanging onto your every word.

Your confession made him sad. If only he’d been brave enough to ask if you were okay. You pause for a second and meet his eyes. Any other guy in this school would’ve laughed at you by now. You gesture to your outfit and nervously adjust your skirt. “I’m also not a superficial person. It wasn’t about changing how I looked, I just needed the confidence to put myself out there.” You pause and nod towards Ally with a smile. Peter glances over to Ally and sees her blow you a kiss, which you catch across the room with a giggle.

I miss you! She mouths with a dramatic frown and this time Peter laughs quietly with you. “I thought she was a bitch before I met her.” He looks at you with surprise to find you smiling at him. “But,” you hold up a finger for dramatic effect, “because I put myself out there, I met my best friends. A lot of people around here judge on appearances. I’m not like that anymore.” You say with confidence.

“That’s really cool of you.” Peter whispers back, and the sound sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. He’s so close to you and the feelings you thought you left behind two years ago don’t seem so left behind as you stare into his warm eyes. “For the record, I’d be your friend no matter what you look like.”

Peter has only been this nervous a couple times before in his life, and he can’t help but feel like he’s betraying Sapphire with the way he’s thinking about you. He watches as you smile warmly at his words and extend your hand towards his.

“Friends? Even though I'm so much uglier now?” You pout your bottom lip out, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. He nearly laughs out loud and has to remind himself you’re still in class. “I know guys go wild for the homeless man sweatpants look.” You’re both trying to hold back your laughter, shaking silently in the back of the class as he raises his hand and grabs yours.

“Friends.” Peter isn’t sure why he keeps going, but he does. “And just so you know, you were never ugly. I don’t know why you tried so hard to hide yourself last year, but even then,” the words leaving his mouth sound confident but Peter takes a deep breath before looking up from his lap to meet your eyes. Your wide eyes and surprised smile give him just the confidence he needs to finish. “You could never be ugly.” Peter can hear his heart beating.

You blink at him. This boy could not be real. Here he was, basically implying that the one thing you had wanted all along, for somebody to notice you, was true. Not only was it true, but it was Peter fucking Parker telling you this. Despite everything that had changed you in the past year, the giddy feeling in your bones brought you back to sophomore year and pining over Peter.

“Really?” Your smile spreads and he seems to let out a deep breath of relief.

“Yeah.” He smiles back at you until your sweet moment is interrupted by a fat ass syllabus dropping onto the lab table in front of you.

“Fuck,” you whisper. “This class is gonna be so much homework.” You turn the page so Peter can briefly see the list of projects alone, and it’s enough to make him cringe.

Something about the way the whispers travel back and forth between you all class makes you realize you hadn’t fallen into a friendship this easily, even with Ally. Even with Spiderman, your brain points out.

A red and blue suit swings into your mind and you are hit with a wave of guilt. Not two hours ago I was thinking about my make out with Spiderman, and now I’m comparing him to Peter? 

You have all but one class together, and you can’t help but glance in Peter’s direction any chance you get. The only time you don’t see him is at lunch, even though you look all around the lunch room for him or the boy he’d been standing with this morning. You thought it would be too creepy to ask him where he’d been.

Finally, the last bell of the day rang, and you were sure if you didn’t have superpowers you would’ve been exhausted. School is kinda draining when you actually acknowledge people. Ally and Betty share your complaints about being tired on your drive home, all three of you agreeing you need naps. You kiss them both on the cheek and wave goodbye before heading up to your room.

Forget what I said about having superpowers. I’m fucking tired. You lay down on your bed, groaning into the pillow at the thought of having to patrol tonight. You sat up abruptly. You’d never dreaded patrol, it was always the thing you looked forward to. You glance towards the suit in your closet and sigh.

It’s not patrol I’m nervous about. It’s him. You feel incredibly guilty about today. I’m not a two timer. If I want to like Peter, I have to talk to Spiderman about that kiss first. You start to make your way over to the closet before another wave of exhaustion hits, sending you straight back to your bed.

After a nap. Then we’ll talk.

[bunny-script]

Not a date pt.1 ~ Spencer Reid x reader

Summary: Y/n and Spencer are inseperable, they're best friends. And they're in love with each other. Problem is, neither of them know about the others feelings. So it's not a date. Or is it ? (basically a really long build-up to something that may or may not be a date depending on who you ask.)

Wordcount: 1342

A/N: omg omg first part of "not a date" !! its part of the reason I created this account ! The idea has been inhabiting my brain for a while but I didn't have a place for it. Anyways this is terribly written, my apologies. Feedback, likes and reblogs are obviously very welcome. Thank you so much for reading, have an incredible day and enjoy ! - bunny

warnings: not that I can think of, if you need me to trigger warn anything please let me know !!

Standing up from her desk in the bullpen, Y/n stretched her arms out and cringed at just how loudly her back cracked, before gathering her paperwork and putting it onto a neat pile at the edge of her desk, rearranging the little fidget toys and pictures in her workspace to be in correct order again and throwing the strap of her purse over her shoulder.

She spotted Penelope in the break room kitchen and skipped over to her blonde, brightly coloured friend. Grabbing an energy drink from the fridge, she turned around to be met by her amused eyes.

“What?” Y/n questioned before bringing the sickly sweet carbonated caffeine bomb to her lips.

“Nothing… Just seem a little more excited than usual ‘s all. Could that be because of her ‘not date’ with boy wonder today ?” Penelope teased.

“God, Pen, It’s not a date!” She responded in a hushed voice. And it wasn’t. Not really, at least.

-

Truth is, Spencer and Y/n were head over heels for each other, and when your closest friends and colleagues are behavioural profilers, it was only a matter of time until everyone found out. And eventually, they all did. Except Spencer and Y/n of course, those two were still so deep in denial they would only scoff and nervously laugh whenever someone made the mistake of assuming the two were a couple. Only to lay awake in the motel room that night, thinking, dreaming ‘what if’.

But honestly, who could blame those people? The pair have been best friends and basically inseparable ever since Y/n joined the BAU around four years ago. They instantly clicked. Constantly touching someone, holding their hand or flat outsitting on each other might give outsiders the wrong impression.

They’d take the same lunch break and go out for coffee together, share rooms on cases, constanly talk on the phone or text each other.

They had sleepovers more times than they cared to admit.

Spencer’s apartment was filled with Y/n’s things, she had a toothbrush there, clothes, her own shampoo and conditioner, for gods sake he even emptied out a drawer in his dresser for her and hung up an extra hook next to his front door for Y/n to hang up her go-bag.

It wasn’t just Y/n inhabiting Spencer’s apartment though, the same deal went for him in her apartment. Only that Spencer is clingy and hates leaving her company for any reason, so the amount of books she never even read, that have been sitting in her bookshelves for so long...She really didn’t know how many there were.

So yeah, it was safe to say the two were inseperable.

Around a year ago during girls night, Y/n decided to come clean to her friends and tell them about her feelings for their resident genius. They all knew obviously. Everyone knew, except for Spencer, which she was incredibly grateful for.

They had all tried to subtly tell her that they knew for a fact he was in love with her too without directly saying “hey actually he confessed to Derek a while back” but she didn’t believe them.

-

“Okay cut the crap, we both know this isn’t just you two hanging out like you usually do. I dont have to be a profiler to know that, because I know Reid and I know you like the back of my hand. You’ve been fidgety and jittery all day and we both know he loves this dress you’re wearing, little miss “we’re just friends.””

-

The first time he’d seen the dress on her was two years ago when he opened the door to his apartment after hearing a knock only to find her outside, dressed in a soft, flowy sundress that suited her perfectly.

“You look lovely!” he blurted out instead of “hello” and earned a laugh from her and his neighbour who had just walked up the stairs behind Y/n. “Not so bad yourself, looking quite hot in that cardigan, Spence. Is it new?” She responded as she came in and put the grocery bags she brought down on his kitchen counter.

He blushed at the blunt compliment and helped her unload the ingredients for the dinner they had planned on making for the team. “No. I just haven’t worn it in a while. You? The dress, I mean.” Spencer explained and heard her say “Yes, I just bought it.”

At the end of that night when Y/n, Penelope and Derek were just about to leave, a tipsy Spence told her she should wear it more often.

She wanted to, but only found barely a handful of occasions to wear it after that night.

-

“It’s not for him. Can’t a girl wanna look pretty without an interrogation?” Y/n lied and excused herself to go and get Spencer. She found him still hunched over his desk, his two pointer fingers typing away on his computer.

“Hey, you ready to go?” Y/n asked as shecame up and hugged him from behind.

“Yeah, just another minute. Almost done with my report.” he quickly said in the most controlled tone he could muster.

-

Spencer had always had a problem with physical touch. He just didn’t like it, every fact he knew about the exchanging of germs screaming at him to not shake other peoples hands. And Y/n was no exception. At first. After they had grown closer and gotten to know each other, he let her hug him a few times. And it was like something in him just clicked. There was no yelling in his head, no fear of germs or letting someone get close.

He wanted her closer and closer, so when one morning hewoke up from one of their sleepovers and she was still sound asleep and snuggled into him, he embraced it with open arms. Literally. He slipped his arms around her and went back to sleep.

After that, it was all he thought about for days. The way her arms wrapped around his torso, her entire face nuzzled into his chest, her hand firmly pressed into his waist. She looked peaceful, so warm and content. Like they had been doing this for centuries. She felt so right in his arms and he never wanted to let her go. He couldn’t stop thinking about how Y/n’s legs tangled with his own that morning and how genuinely right and exciting it felt. Like a firework he didn’t know he was looking forward to finally going off.

And then it happened again a few weeks later, only this time she had woken up before him and found herself being spooned by Spencer.

To her it felt like contentment, finally being at peace with a situation she didn’t know how to feel about. Like finding herself in a field of flowers after wandering through confusing tunnels with only a candle to light her way.

At first, neither of them talked about it, just enjoying it whenever it happened and pretending to be asleep, desperately trying to stay like that forever.

Until one night when they were watching a horror movie. No matter how well she usually did or didn’t handle horror movies, this one terrified her. Unbeknownst to her, Spencer was just as scared as she was, so on one particularly bad jumpscare, they hid their face in the other persons shoulder.

They both laughed and instantly relaxed, just giggling at each other until the credits rolled. After that, he just pulled her into his arms and they went to sleep like that.

But that was ages ago, by now they’re so used to each others constant touch, holding onto the other persons arm, cuddling to fall asleep and laying her head in his lap while he stroked her hair so she could fall asleep on the jet.

But that didn’t mean her touch didn’t make him nervous, sent his head spinning and made his entire body flood with warmth and shivers.

Because it did, and he never wanted her to stop giving him that feeling.

[css1992]

Guilty Pleasure

[Porn AU]

Summary: Peter and Beck used to be a power couple in the porn industry, but after Beck dumps him, Peter is forced to start over. With no money, no family and nowhere to go, he doesn’t have much choice other than to keep doing porn, so he joins Just4Fans to get back on his feet and then one day he gets a very generous tip from someone under the username of YKWIM.

All the warnings listed on Part I apply.

Read on AO3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V / Part VI / Part VII / Part VIII / Part IX / Part X /  Part XI / Epilogue

-x-

The last couple of weeks of May flew by, soon June arrived and with it even more sunny days and warmer temperatures. Peter couldn’t help but think that his life fell apart in the winter, and as summer approached, it was slowly getting back on track. He was able to save a decent amount of money every month, his apartment was coming together – he even had a dinner table and chairs by the second week of June –, he was taking on more responsibility at BFF way quicker than expected and he was happier, in general.

He felt comfortable enough to make plans again – with the steady money he was making, he might be able to give up porn in a couple of years and he would still be eligible to apply for some of BFF’s grants and scholarships, meaning he may be able to go to college at 23, after all. Money would be tight for a while, but it was doable. He could always work part-time to supplement his income as well.

Summer also brought some unexpected good news. On a random Thursday morning, he was bombarded with messages on Twitter and Instagram from people asking where they could find his videos now that Beck’s channel was down. He was confused at first, but when he went to check, the channel wasn’t there, it had disappeared from the site.

He gasped. For a total of five seconds, his mind went wild, his heart raced, and his eyes watered. For those five seconds, he felt a mixture of happiness, relief and confusion, knowing those videos weren’t out there anymore, couldn’t be found, couldn’t be seen, couldn’t be remembered. But it was only for five blissful seconds. When his brain turned back on and the first rush of excitement died down, he realized that probably wouldn’t last.

That had happened before, when they first started posting. People mass reported the videos and the channel until they got taken down, because Peter looked very young at eighteen. They had to send a picture of his ID to the website for check several times, it was months before it stopped happening once and for all. Peter assumed Beck was posting videos of his new boyfriend, who he knew looked very young, so it was probably just a misunderstanding and only a matter of time until he got the channel – and the videos – back up.

Still, he allowed himself to count that as a win and couldn’t help but feeling giddy all day, to the point where everybody noticed his good mood – Ned, MJ, people at BFF and Tony.

Tony, who didn’t disappear. As days and nights and weeks went by, Peter stopped waiting for it to happen.

“Someone is awfully cheery today.” The older man grinned at him from the driver’s side that night, as Peter sang along to Ed Sheeran, because it was his turn to choose the playlist. Tony had picked him up from BFF and they were heading to his place for a quiet night in.

“It’s a good day, Tony.” He shot back after the chorus of Put it All on Me and the older man beamed, the corners of his eyes crinkling up.

“It sure is, kitten.” He turned up the volume and Peter sang even louder, causing Tony to burst out laughing.

At some point, he realized life was a little less complicated than he gave it credit for. He realized that if he actually gave things the precise amount of thought they deserved, not everything felt like the end of the world. The minute he decided to just let things happen the way they were supposed to happen, without overthinking every detail, life got so much easier.

He decided not to make the thing with Tony a big deal. Sure, when he thought about it for more than two minutes, it seemed like a huge fucking deal, he was basically dating Tony Stark, one of the richest men in the world, Iron Man himself, the man who had literately saved half the universe from extinction not even two years earlier. So, yes, that seemed like a big fucking deal, but–

But.

To him, he was just Tony. This charming guy who texted him daily to ask about his day and crack acid jokes about his business associates. This kind guy who sent him chocolates when he was feeling down and cooked him dinner every weekend and made sure to e-mail him easy and healthy recipes so he wouldn’t starve to death. This gentle guy who called him beautiful and touched him with such care that he forgot how many hands had left bruises on his skin before.

When he forgot everything Tony was supposed to be and just focused on everything that he was to him, what they had seemed so simple and pure.

He stopped worrying about labels, too. In the beginning, he kept stressing about what they had, what was expected of him, what he expected of Tony, but eventually, he decided none of that mattered. They made each other feel good, they made each other happy, they made each other better, all in all, whatever label he could put on their relationship wouldn’t make any difference, so he let it go.

Weeks later, Peter heard Beck had managed to get the channel back up, only for it to get taken down again in a few hours, then his Instagram and Twitter also disappeared. He wasn’t too surprised, and if he was honest with himself, it was fun imagining Beck losing his mind as he tried to fix it. After all, every day the channel was down, he was losing money. And his social media, specially his Twitter account, was where he promoted his content to thousands of followers, so losing that meant losing money as well, and if there was one thing Peter knew Beck loved, it was money.

He wondered what the fuck the man had done to piss people off like that, it was clearly a coordinated attack, but he wasn’t curious enough to try and find out what happened. He would rather watch from a distance, rejoicing in the satisfaction it gave him to imagine that maybe, just maybe, one of those days Beck wouldn’t be able to get the channel back up and would have to start from scratch, like Peter did. And maybe then he wouldn’t re-upload his videos – that part was a little harder to believe, but who knew, stranger things had happened.

When June came to an end, Peter was surprised with a notification from Tony on Just4Fans. He had almost forgot the man was still subscribed to his account there, they obviously never chatted on the app anymore, and when he opened the notification, his blood ran cold in his veins.

It was a tip.

A hundred thousand dollars tip.

He couldn’t fucking believe it. A tip? For what, a job well done? It wasn’t like Peter was – what did that even mean? Was Tony trying to say something with that, send some kind of message?

He decided not to call him right away, he was too – upset. The older man was picking him up later that evening for dinner, so he decided to wait. Whatever he had to say to him, he wanted to hear it in person. He wanted him to look in his eyes and tell him he thought he was his fucking wh–

“What is the meaning of this?” He asked as soon he got in his car, avoiding the kiss that came his way. Tony blinked in surprise, trying to understand why he got a phone shoved in his face instead of a kiss, and then he finally saw what that was all about.

“Oh, that–“ But before he could answer anything, Peter interrupted.

“I told you I’m not – Tony, why would you – this is so insulting!” He was honestly at a loss for words. They had been seeing each other for almost two months by then, things were going great, they met every week, they made apple pie together, for God’s sake, had he misunderstood all the signs?

“My God, Peter, that’s not that, I just thought – I mean, I’m a billionaire, you know this is pocket change for me, right?” Peter gasped, shocked, and Tony’s eyes widened when he fumbled with the door handle. “Wait! I didn’t mean – Jesus, okay, hold on a second, please!” Tony reached over him to shut the door before Peter could get out of the car. The young man turned to look at him with tears in his eyes and Tony looked incredulous when he leaned back and ran a hand through his hair. “Don’t just assume the worst, have I given you any reason for that?” He sounded hurt, which made Peter gulp. He took a few calming breaths and shook his head slowly.

“No,” he whispered, dropping his gaze.

“Ok, good.” He actually sounded relieved at that. “I am a billionaire, Peter, and this is pocket change for me, which means –“ he raised his voice a little, predicting a reaction from him that didn’t come, “I didn’t realize this would be such a big deal. For me, it’s like giving you, I don’t know, flowers. I didn’t mean this as a payment for whatever you think this is, I just thought this would be a good help. You’re starting your life now, you have that list of yours that you don’t let me see, you’re saving up money, you have your plans for college, I just meant to help. I mean, if we weren’t together, I would have tipped you every month, so I thought –“

“But we are together, Tony, I –“ he was a little calmer then, because that was, in fact, a reasonable explanation and he shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. “Look, I appreciate the gesture, but next time you mean to give me flowers, just give me flowers! I believe you have the best intentions at heart, but it’s just weird for me. I don’t want this to be about money. I just – don’t want that, okay?”

He gazed at the older man as he gaped at him, mouth opening and closing, but no sound came out for a while.

“I just thought – I mean, people usually –“ It was unusual to see Tony speechless like that, but the man shook his head and looked back at him, almost embarrassed. “I just want to help you.”

“Are you kidding me?” Peter poked him in the arm, trying to lighten up the mood in the car. “You’re teaching me how to cook. Yesterday I made an omelet and I only burned one side, I’m getting good at this. That’s a big help.”

Tony didn’t laugh at his joke, like he usually did, he just gazed at him with an unreadable expression, before leaning in to kiss him, which Peter gladly reciprocated.

“I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable,” he whispered, then, resting his forehead against his.

“And I’m sorry I was rude. It won’t happen again,” he promised, and he meant it.

After that night, he removed Tony from his Just4Fans, which came as a blow to the older man, who pouted and whined for about a week, only stopping when Peter showed up at his place one Saturday wearing Iron Man lingerie under his clothes – it was supposed to be a joke, but it worked surprisingly well for Tony.  

By July, it became impossible to keep sneaking around Ned and MJ, as the dates became more frequent. Peter decided to tell them that he had met someone online and that they were getting to know each other. He told them it was nothing serious yet and if it became serious, they would meet him.

He did have to throw in a few lies to get them off his back – he definitely had to lie about Tony’s age to avoid certain comparisons, but he would cross that bridge when he got to it, if he ever got to it. He wasn’t sure if or when he was going to tell them the whole truth, but for the time being, he  felt more comfortable keeping that relationship to himself.

He and Tony didn’t go out much, but when they did, it was always to fancy and discreet restaurants with private rooms; Tony was, after all, a celebrity for all intents and purposes, and at if the press got a whiff of them there would be no secret left to keep.

But staying in with Tony was far from boring. They cooked together and the older man taught him all of his grandmother’s secret recipes – Peter could never replicate them by himself at home, but it was still fun trying. They spent almost all of their time down in the workshop, though, where Tony  had him do menial tasks, like screwing bolts or reaching for a part inside an Iron Man suit. He said his tiny hands were useful for his projects.

He knew he wasn’t really that useful, but he loved when Tony included him and asked for his help, even though he didn’t really need it. He was fascinated by everything the older man taught him in those moments and in turn Tony always looked proud and pleased when Peter put his lessons to use.

He didn’t mind keeping him company when Tony was focused on projects he couldn’t help with, he stayed there anyway, reading a book or watching TV on the tiny couch – Tony kept saying he was going to get a bigger one, but he didn’t believe it, he knew the older man enjoyed the fact that the only way they could fit comfortably on it was if Peter was lying half on top of him.

So after several weeks, they established a little routine of their own. Since Tony had a busy schedule and Peter was still trying to keep Ned and MJ somewhat in the dark, they didn’t meet that often on week days, but they always talked on the phone before bed. On Thursdays, Tony picked him up after his shift at BFF and he spent the night at his place. They had breakfast together on Fridays and then they met again every Saturday after lunch, and finally Tony dropped him back off home every Sunday evening, so he could have dinner with his friends.

In August, for the first time in his life, Peter had two birthday celebrations. One with his friends, when the three of them went bar-hopping and he got home so hammered he had absolutely no idea how they managed to climb the stairs, and another with Tony, when he decorated the workshop with  balloons and put party hats on Dum-E and U.

“Surprise!” He yelled lamely, throwing confetti at Peter when they stepped into the workshop. The younger man laughed, delighted, as Tony hurried to the kitchenette and came back with something in his hands. “I know it doesn’t look good, but I promise it tastes good. Probably.” When Peter looked down, he noticed it was a large chocolate cake with ‘Happy Birthday, kitten’ written on it in bright pink icing. It looked so ugly, but it was so beautiful at the same time. “What did I do now?” Tony frowned, face falling.

He blinked a few times and when he touched his cheeks, he realized he was crying.

“I’m sorry, I’m just – really happy.” He grinned, pulling the older man’s face to give him a kiss. “Thank you.”

It was late October when Tony told him he had to go on a trip to China for two weeks, and even though it wasn’t his first work trip since they started dating, five months earlier, it would be by far the longest one since then, so it was kind of a big deal. Still, he didn’t expect to feel so affected, but on the days leading up to it he was so upset he couldn’t hide it.

They spent their last Sunday together wrapped up in each other doing absolutely nothing. They slept in, Tony brought Peter breakfast in bed, which was rewarded with a lazy and sloppy blow job, and they spent all day in bed, only getting up for essentials, like food and water. They didn’t even turn on the TV, they didn’t even talk much. They just held each other and exchanged slow, tender kisses until their bodies were too warm to stay under the sheets.

Tony ran a bath for them and got in the tub – it was big enough for eight people, but Peter made a point to sit in his lap, clinging to him like a koala. He felt Tony’s arms encircle him gently, as he rested his chin on top of his head.

“I’ll be home before you even have time to miss me, kitten.” He whispered, and those were the first words either of them had said in at least a few hours.

Peter didn’t tell him that was impossible since he already missed him, instead he just held him even tighter.

After the bath water went cold, they climbed out of the tub and Tony insisted on drying him, before dressing him in one of his own T-shirts, even though Peter had a multitude of spare clothes in his closet. He sat in bed, watching Tony pack a huge suitcase that reminded him just how long he would be gone for. He sulked a little – just a little – and that earned him a little kiss on his forehead, which was enough to undo the frown between his brows.

Finally, in the evening, Tony parked his car in front of Peter’s building, turning to look at him with an almost pained smile, before leaning in for a kiss.

“I’m gonna miss you,” Peter whispered against his mouth and felt when Tony’s lips stretched into a small smile. He pulled away a little, just enough to look into his eyes, and cupped his chin in his hand.

“I’ll miss you too, but I won’t be long, ok? It’s just a few days.” He pecked Peter’s lips one more time for good measure and the younger man nodded.

“Call me if you have time.”

“Of course, kitten, every day.” He leaned in for another kiss, this one longer than the previous, and Peter’s heart fluttered. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out, containing the urge to say those three words that had been trapped in the back of his throat for weeks.

“Have a safe trip. Let me know when you land.”

“I will, baby.”

Peter got out of the car and waved, watching as it disappeared down the street. He sighed and his heart ached, he already missed Tony and it had only been a few seconds, how was he going to survive fifteen whole days? It seemed impossible. It was crazy to think how far they had come since March, when they talked for the first time. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

He turned to go inside, but froze in place when he heard a familiar voice.

“So that’s why you’ve been ignoring me, huh? How rude.” He turned slowly to the left, only to be met with Beck’s cocky, arrogant smile, just a few feet away from him. “I tried calling, I tried texting, you’ve blocked me everywhere, I can’t even e-mail you anymore, it appears.” Beck walked slowly and leaned against the rails of the stairs to Peter’s building and the younger man curled his hands in fists, trying to control the urge to just run. “Long time no see, Petey-pie.”

He was paralyzed, muscles rigid, but to his own surprise, it wasn’t fear that he felt, or sadness. It was pure anger.  

“I wonder why,” he answered quietly, but firmly. Beck’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline, before the smile was back in place. “How did you find me?” He demanded, because Beck had never cared to ask where Peter was going to stay after he kicked him out, so how in the hell would he know where to find him?

“Wasn’t easy, I have been following you on Instagram, some of your morning run routes seemed familiar, so I–”

“You stalked me?” He frowned, taking a step closer to the other man, who looked at Peter with indignation and hurt. He shook his head, softened those baby blue eyes and placed one hand over his chest, right above where his heart would have been if he had one.

“I just wanted to see you, is all.” He shrugged, dropping his gaze to stare at his own feet, and Peter wanted to roll his eyes. It was so weird watching his whole act now that the spell had been lifted.

“What do you want?” He asked, making the older man’s head snap back up, a little surprised by his cold tone.

“I just told you, I wanted to see you. I missed you.” He took a few steps towards Peter, who in turn walked backwards to keep his distance

“You missed me?” He scoffed, shaking his head. “Where’s your new boy-toy, you put him away so you could come play with me?” He cocked his head to the side and, for a moment, he could see the shock crossing his features.

“Pete… Why are you acting like this, it’s like I don’t even know you anymore...” His voice broke and he looked away, pretending to wipe away a tear. He wondered how the hell he used to fall for that.

“You don’t, Quentin. I’m not a lost little boy anymore, you should go back to your boyfriend. Or is he smarter than me and dumped you already? Is that what this is all about?” He narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest, and Beck’s mouth hung open like he couldn’t believe his words.

“I made a mistake, Pete. After so many years, I took you for granted, I couldn’t see what I saw the first time I met you. I couldn’t see how beautiful you were, how caring and loving you were, how loyal and reliable and – I don’t know, I was blind. I was so stupid, I shouldn’t have left you.” His eyes were wide, earnest, shining with unshed tears. His face was open, even his body language screamed honesty. Suddenly, he didn’t feel so bad about falling for his act – Beck was good. “Don’t  you miss me, baby? Don’t you miss us?”

Peter snorted, shaking his head, he couldn’t believe the nerve of that man.

“You made a mistake, huh? So you dumped your new boy, right? If I were to go home with you right now, he wouldn’t be there, waiting for you, like a fucking plan B, in case this doesn’t go your way. Right?” It was his turn to take a few steps towards the older man. “Like I was your plan B while you waited for him to turn 18?”

“Peter, c’mon–“

“Is he there, Beck? Just answer me that. Come on, if he’s not, I’ll take you back right now, we can go home together.” He insisted, looking into the older man’s eyes, but he didn’t say anything, he just sighed. “Of course he is. If I said yes, what would you do? Tell him to pack his things in the middle of the night and leave? Would you keep all the money he’s made you and tell him to fuck off? Would you leave him broke and lonely and fucking lost in this world? Would you tell him that he wasn’t good enough and dispose of him like he’s fucking garbage?” His voice grew louder and louder, and when he came to himself, he noticed he was in Beck’s face, their chests almost touching, so he took a step back. “So to answer your question, Quentin, no, I don’t fucking miss you. You fucking ruined me!”

“I saved you!” And just like that, the good guy act was gone. His whole demeanor changed, the soft baby blues widened, his mouth was set in a sneer, he puffed out his chest to intimidate him, but Peter stood his ground. “Don’t pretend you don’t remember who you were before me. You were a fucking loser! An orphan, no family, no friends, no future! I took you in, I took care of you, I gave you a profession – don’t fucking roll your eyes, what the fuck are you doing now, huh? Rocket science? ‘Cause it seems to me like you’re still doing porn, and now you’re clearly branching out into prostitution, would you look at that!”

“You have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about!” He placed his hands on the man’s chest and pushed him away when he got too fucking close for comfort. He held his breath when he realized what he had done, afraid of the man’s reaction, but he just kept his distance.  

“You know what? Fuck you, Peter. I was wrong about you, I thought I knew who you were, I thought I missed you, but you’re just a disgusting fucking whore, after all. You’re a dirty little bitch in heat who likes to get this loose hole of yours fucked by old perverts, I don’t know why I’m surprised, I mean, that’s why I dumped you, you were enjoying those videos a little bit too much for my taste. You weren’t even satisfied with two cocks up your ass, one in your mouth and a line of men waiting to fuck you. You disgust me.” He started walking away, and Peter wanted to say something, he wanted to yell at him and defend himself, he wanted to tell him he didn’t fucking enjoy it, he wanted to tell him that it was all his fault, he threw him to the lions, he let those men fucking–

Fuck!

He rushed inside the building and ran upstairs, eyes clouded with tears. He tripped and fell knees first on the steps, but he didn’t even feel pain, he just got up and kept going, kept running, trying to put as much distance between him and Beck as he could, even though it was irrational. Beck was gone, he walked away, he left him, he left him again, he wasn’t coming back–

“Ned?!” He knocked urgently on his friends’ door. He didn’t have his spare key, it was upstairs in his own apartment, but he couldn’t trust himself to go all the way up there and down again without having a full on panic attack. “MJ?! Are you guys home?!” He was really trying not to sound too desperate, he didn’t want to scare them, but it was hard controlling his emotions when his heart was hammering against his chest and he couldn’t fucking breathe.

“Peter?” It was MJ who yanked the door open. She had a towel wrapped around her torso, her hair was wet, and Peter felt guilty, but she took one look at him and quickly pulled him into a hug. “My God, Peter...” She whispered into his hair when he started sobbing uncontrollably on her naked shoulder. “Come on in, c’mon.” He heard the door closing behind him, but he didn’t let go of her, he felt like if he did, he wouldn’t be able to hold himself together.  

He wanted to tell her not to worry, that she should go finish her shower and change, but he really, really needed her right then. She sat down on the couch, pulling him with her and he promptly laid down, burying his face in her legs. He couldn’t stop crying and sobbing and no matter how many times she asked him what was wrong, sounding increasingly more worried, he couldn’t get his feelings under control enough to give her any answer.

He was there for what felt like hours, when at some point someone lifted him from MJ’s lap and enveloped him in such a tight hug he couldn’t breath for a second, but he sighed in relief, it was right what he needed. Ned’s arms felt like home, it calmed him down almost instantly – his voice whispering that it was fine, everything was going to be okay helped a lot, too.

“I hate him, I hate him so fucking much,” he mumbled into his shoulder, God knew how much time later, and his friend just hummed, patting his back. “I hate that he made a mess of me and I let him.” He couldn’t hold back more tears when he said that, because it was true, it was so fucking true. He let Beck do whatever he wanted to him, he let him ruin his dreams, his future, his fucking personality, until he was nothing but a shell of what he used to be.

“I know, Peter, I know,” Ned soothed him, rubbing his back, even though he probably had no idea what he was talking about. “It’s okay now. You’re okay. It’s over”

“I made tea.” MJ’s quiet voice sounded somewhere from his right and when he turned to look at her, she was already dressed, wet hair up in a bun, with a mug in her hands, which she extended to him. He accepted it but didn’t dare to take a sip, he was positive that if he did, he would throw up, his stomach was all kinds of fucked up at that moment. “Peter, what happened? Did Star – uh, did your boyfriend do something? Did he hurt? ‘Cause I swear to God–” Just the mention of Tony being the cause of his distress made him sick, so he cut her off.

“Beck was here.” He sniffed, looking at the mug to avoid their eyes when he heard both of them gasping.

“Beck? Beck was here? Fucking Beck?” MJ screeched and he nodded.

“He was waiting for me outside.” He rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to gather enough energy to have that conversation.  

“What did he want?” Ned asked calmly, while MJ paced the floor, furious.

“I don’t know...” He shrugged, wrecking his brain to try and figure out what his motive was. “His channel got taken down a few weeks ago and he couldn’t get it back up. I heard he had to start over.” He hadn’t been watching that closely, but he knew something was wrong, even his Twitter and Instagram accounts kept getting taken down almost monthly, it was impossible he was making any money over the past few months. “He said he wanted to get back together, probably because he thinks us making up would be a big hit or whatever. I said no, of course. He didn’t like the answer.”

“Did he hurt you?!” MJ strode back to him until she was standing right in front of him, looking into his eyes. He was almost intimidated by her.

“No, he just… Said some pretty shitty things, is all,” he answered sheepishly, because he hated that that man could still make a mess of him with just a few hurtful words.

“Oh, dude. He’s just mad he’s lost control over you. Whatever he said, he just wanted to hurt you, it doesn’t mean anything.” Ned placed an arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer, and Peter rested his head against his, sighing.

“I know. He was always like that, you know,” he whispered, as flashes of memories crossed his mind. “When I didn’t bend to his wishes, when I didn’t do things his way, he fucking–“ He squeezed his eyes shut, furious, because he had fallen for that again. “He tries to charm me and when it doesn’t work, he attacks me. But the thing is, he really knows what to say to destroy me. It just sucks. But it’s fine. I just need a moment, I’ll be fine.” He sat up straight and looked both of his friends in the eyes.

“Yes, you will. You most certainly will.” Ned patted his shoulder one last time, getting up from the couch. “Why don’t you lie down for a second, huh? I’m making dinner, I’ll even try one of those recipes your mystery boyfriend taught you.” Just the mention of Tony made him breathe a little easier, even though he wouldn’t be able to see him for a while.

“Okay.” He nodded, smiling softly. MJ took Ned’s place on the couch and he lay down, placing his head on her legs, as she ran her fingers through his hair. He sighed contently and closed his eyes, feeling exhausted. He was close to drifting off when he heard Ned gasp.

“Oh my God,” He breathed quietly from the kitchen and both Peter and MJ looked at him curiously from over the back of the couch.

“What?” She didn’t look too worried, but Peter was concerned about how pale he was.

“Ned, what’s wrong?” He frowned, watching Ned’s horrified expression looking at his phone like it was a murder scene. He raised his eyes and gulped.

“Peter is trending on Twitter,” he whispered, after a while.

“What?!” They both hurried over to the kitchen counter, and the first thing Peter saw when he looked at his phone was a picture of him and Tony in his car, kissing. As Ned scrolled down, more pictures showed up, but not only that, clips of his old videos were all over Twitter, people knew his full name, his real name, and they were making all sorts of comments. Iron Man, Tony Stark, Peter Parker, sex worker, prostitute and porn were trending.

The room was completely silent for a whole minute, before MJ turned on the TV.

“… appear that Tony Stark, former CEO of Stark Industries and retired Avenger, was seen kissing a young man in his car earlier this evening. The person in the pictures seems to be one Peter Parker, a twenty-one year old porn actor, who is also said to work as a prostitute…”

Peter’s heart sank to the bottom of his stomach, his vision blurred and he felt bile rising in his throat. He took a deep breath and got up from the couch, ears ringing, as he rushed to the front door.  He heard his friends yelling something, but he couldn’t make out their words, and he just couldn’t deal with all that right then and there.

“I, uhm, I gotta go,” he called from over his shoulder, slamming the door shut on his way out.

As he ran upstairs, vision blurred by tears and chest hurting, begging for oxygen, he couldn’t help but remember his life fell apart in the winter. And fall would be over soon.

-x-

So... It appears that someone has lost the ability to write short chapters... 

Anyways, only three more chapters to go!  🥳

Tag list (please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the list):  @sadachmesarthim @iamnotparticularlyproud @staticwhispersinthedark @bluestarker @ whyisthisathingcb

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch 13: On Your Left

Summary: Steve and Katie meet a new friend whilst out jogging, and Steve is sent on a mission to rescue a ship- the Lemurian Star…but it fast becomes apparent that not everyone on his team is pulling in the same direction.

Paring: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Language! Smut (NSFW, 18+)

A/N: We jump forward a couple of months here and slip straight into the Winter Soldier storyline. Credit to @angrybirdcr​ for another lovely edit, and this re-post contains additional materiel- I’ve written the mission out instead of merely skipping over it.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 12 Part 2

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

 End of March/Beginning of April 2014

“Turn it off,” Katie’s voice was muffled from the pillow she had buried her face into as the alarm rang around the dark bedroom. Steve moved slightly to turn it off, but he wasn’t fast enough for his Girlfriend’s liking. “Steve!”

With a huff he leaned over and slapped the offending item with his palm, hitting the snooze button.

“Why is it even set?” She grumbled “It’s not like you don’t normally wake up at the crack of dawn anyway…and who uses an alarm clock when they have a phone?”

“You know, no one makes you stay here.” Steve teased, with a chuckle moving so that his front was pressed to her back.

“You’ve been away for five days, I never sleep as well when you’re not here.” She mimicked his line from the night before in a baby voice.

“And that’s why the alarm is set, because I do sleep better with you.” His arms circled her waist and he grinned to himself as despite the fact she was grumpy and tired she melted into his arms as he nuzzled at her neck, revelling in her smell, her warmth.

“Jerk.” She grumbled. “I mean what time is it anyway?” There was a pause as he continued to simply breathe her in and she glanced at her phone giving a scoff as she saw the ridiculous time on the screen “5:30? In the morning. Five. Thirty…”

“You said you wanted to go running.” He murmured, his eyes still closed.

“No, you said you were going running and I said I might tag along because I’ve eaten nothing but shit whilst I’ve been in New York, which, by the way is your fault…”

“My fault?” Steve laughed, cracking an eye open “I wasn’t even there.”

“Exactly” she muttered “No one to stop me.” “I wouldn’t stop you anyway. You’re a big girl, you make your own decisions…” “Big girl? You calling me fat?” she teased as she rolled onto her back and turned her head to face his, just about making out his features in the dark room. He rolled his eyes, God she was a pain in the ass at times.

“Yeah, you’re huge.” he deadpanned, his hand travelling over her flat stomach and coming to rest on her hip. “Enormous.”

“Ok, well now that we’ve established I need to run, you know on account of me being a hippo, that still doesn’t answer the question why we have to go so damned early anyway. It’s not like we have to be anywhere…” “It’s less crowded.” he shrugged.

“Yeah, that’s because it’s a ridiculous time.”

“Stop being a fucking brat!” Steve laughed and she huffed out breath again.

“I’m not being a brat, it’s just a stupid time to be getting up.”

“I love how full of sunshine and happiness you are in the morning.” Steve muttered as he dropped his head so his lips could gently trail a few lazy kisses down her neck before landing at her collarbone and giving a quick nip, his hand tightening on her hip.

She sighed, her body already starting to respond to his touch, the way it always did, betraying her. 

Damned him and his fucking bastard sex appeal.

“Okay, if you want to actually get up now…” She muttered, as his mouth travelled back up and she rolled her head back to give him access to the spot on her neck that drove her wild every time he found it.  “I suggest you stop.” “I hit the snooze button.” he muttered, lips brushing her ear as he spoke. “We got about eight minutes left.”

“Eight minutes? You have a very high opinion of yourself.” Katie replied, tilting her head so she was looking at him, smirking.

Steve said nothing, just cocked a single, mischievous brow at her before his lips met hers, his hand running down from hip to thigh then across, parting her legs slightly. They were still naked from the night before, clothes strewn all over the apartment after he’d been so desperate to get his hands on her.

She moaned gently into his mouth as he slowly sank two fingers into her and her hips instantly bucked upwards, drawing a grin from his mouth. 

“Easy, Baby.” He whispered, his mouth returning to her neck.

Four minutes later she lay beneath him, a quivering wreck and he was right behind her, two shallow thrusts later as he tumbled over that edge with a low groan, eyes fluttering shut as he fell forward onto her. He smirked into her neck when she had finally regained her senses enough to quip that he’d beaten his best time by a full sixty seconds. And sixty seemed to be the flavour of the day as it was almost another sixty minutes before they got to his favoured running spot, the National Mal thanks to the fact it had taken Katie half an hour minutes to locate her running shoes which she’d eventually found in her car.  Steve had seized the opportunity, as always to lament her for the fact she was messy. 

“I’m not messy.” She scoffed indignantly as they walked the seven blocks. “I’m just not as OCD about everything being in its right place, all the time, like a neat-freak Soldier”

The good natured jibing had continued until they reached their destination and walked through the park to the reflecting pool

“How many laps did you do last time?” Katie asked, as Steve stretched his arms upwards, cracking his back.

“Six.” he said.

She looked at him, frowning. “That’s like what? Twenty miles?”

“Nearer twenty-two.” He grinned.  “You want me to keep your pace?”

She laughed “No way, you’ll just bitch at me for being slow.”

“I do not bitch…” “You bitch like a 14 year old girl.” Katie lamented, gently shoving him in his back. “Now go, go on!”

He smiled again, jogging backwards for a second before he set off at a rate of knots. Exercise always made him feel good. Running, boxing, sparring…fucking. Pushing away the dirty thoughts that had arisen to the forefront of his mind, he was quick to find a comfortable pace, his trainer clad feet slapping the concrete.

It didn’t take Katie long to find her rhythm either. Despite not being with SHIELD anymore she had kept her fitness training up, sparring three times a week with either Natasha or Steve in the local gym. She was technically still an Avenger after all, Tony having now fashioned her another Supernova suit which was basically a version of his latest Iron Man suit but in Silver and Blue, the Nova shaped star sported in the chest where the mini arc reactor powered it. She’d given it a trial run whilst she had been back in New York and was just as impressed with it now as she had been with the prototype he had blown up.

Her feet gently slapped the ground as she ran, the sun was rising on the last day of March and it was promising to be a sunny, bright spring morning.

"Hi.” A voice greeted her as another jogger she hadn’t seen before caught up with her and fell into step with her.

“Nice day for it!”  Katie smiled.

“You normally run this early?” He asked “Haven’t seen you around before.”

“That’s because I don’t normally run here!” She smiled “But I just spent 5 days in New York eating crap so…!”

He laughed and held out his hand. “Sam Wilson.”

She took it and gave it a shake. “Katie Stark.”

“Well I’ll be damned!” Sam grinned “I didn’t recognise you. Nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

As Steve was about to lap Katie for the first time he noticed she was running with another jogger, a black man wearing a grey sweater with short, cropped hair. At one time this would have sparked the green eyed monster in his chest, but not now. Not only did he know she wouldn’t stand for it, but he knew she was just sociable in general. She would talk to anyone given the chance and moreover, she was his girl, he knew that. As he approached them he breathed out an “On your left.” as a warning as he sped past into his second lap.

Sam frowned, looking round and Katie smirked, trying not to laugh at the look on his face as Steve’s frame whizzed off into the distance.

“I never tire of looking at these.” She commented a short while later as they rounded the monument.

Again the sound of heavy footsteps came. “On your left.”

“On your left.”

“Uh-huh. On my left. I got it.” Sam called after him as he entered his fifth lap.

Katie didn’t even try to stop herself this time and she laughed at the slight look of frustration on Sam’s face.

Not long after they were making a lap around the pool at the base of the memorial. Sam gritted his teeth at the wholly unwelcomed sound of footsteps behind him once again, he looked over his shoulder “Don’t say it. Don’t you say it!”

“On your left.”

“Come on!” Sam shouted and Steve allowed an amused smile to spread across his face.

Sam tried his hardest to pick up his speed to match that of Steve’s but failed miserably after only a few moments, now completely gassed out.

“Are you alright?” Katie asked laughing as she approached his hunched over figure, catching her own breath.

“Oh, here he comes…Superman himself…” Sam said gesturing to where Steve was now walking towards them, hands on his hips. He paused at his girl’s side and looked down at Sam.

“Need a medic?” he teased.

“I need a new set of lungs.” Sam chuckled breathlessly. “Dude, you just ran like thirteen miles in thirty minutes.”

“Guess I got a late start.” He shrugged, shooting Katie a pointed look. She responded with her best innocent stare, batting her eyelids at him. Rolling his eyes, he turned his attention back to the stranger who began to talk again.

“You should be ashamed of yourself. You should take another lap.” He scolded jokingly. “Did you just take it? I assume you just took it.”

Steve smiled, he couldn’t help but like this man. As he looked at him, he noticed the military symbol on his grey sweater.

“What unit were you with?” Steve asked changing the subject and motioning to the man’s shirt.

“Fifty-eighth, Para-rescue. But now I’m working down at the VA. Sam Wilson.” He said motioning for help up.

“Steve Rogers.” Steve held out his hand and pulled Sam to his feet.

“I kind of put that together.” Sam said as he tried to catch his balance. “Must have freaked you out, coming round after the whole defrosting thing.”

“It takes some getting used to. But I’ve had help.” He smiled, looking at Katie who grinned back. “Good to meet you Sam.”

“Yeah, bye Sam!” Katie smiled as Steve gently placed his hand on her lower back to steer her away.

"It’s your bed right?” Sam called out from behind him.

Steve paused and they both turned back around. “What’s that?”

“Your bed, it’s too soft.” Sam went on to explain. “When I was over there, I’d sleep on the ground and use rocks as pillows. Like cavemen. Now I’m back home, in my own bed, feels like-”

Steve cut him off. “Like lying on a marshmallow, feels like I’m gonna sink right to the floor.”

"How long?” He asked Sam

“Two tours.” Sam responded. “You must miss the good old days huh?”

“Well, things aren’t so bad.” He folded his arms, taking a quick glance at Katie who raised her eyebrow at him, teasingly. “Foods a lot better. We used to boil everything. No polio that’s good.” He paused before making a gesture with his hand. “Internet so helpful, I’ve been reading that a lot tryna’ catch up.”

Sam nodded and then moved his right hand from where it had been folder across his chest and held it, fingers extended. “Marvin Gaye, 1972, ‘Troubleman’ soundtrack.” He said, returning his arm to its resting position “Everything you’ve missed jammed into one album.”

“Ohhh man!” Katie groaned “I love that film.”

Steve nodded, smiling and pulled out the notebook she had bought him the previous year, “I’ll put it on the list.”

“We can download it later.” Katie offered. Steve smiled as he closed his book before he reached into his other pocket for his phone which was going off. It was Natasha.

'Mission Alert. Extraction imminent. Meet you at the curb :)’

He showed the message to Katie who read it whilst he looked over at Sam.

“Well Sam, duty calls. Thanks for the run. If that’s what you wanna call running.” He joked extending his hand.

“Oh that’s how it is?” Sam says amused shaking the offered hand.

“That’s how it is.” Steve responded, laughing slightly.

“Okay, anytime you two wanna stop by the VA. Make me look awesome in front of the girl at the front desk, just let me know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Steve said as Natasha pulled up in her black chevvy sports car.

“Hey guys, anyone know where the Smithsonian is? I’m here to pick up a fossil.” She quipped.

“Hey Nat!” Katie waved at her and she nodded whilst Steve simply shook his head.

“That’s hilarious.” He commented dryly as he turned to Katie. “I’ll call you as soon as I can, okay?” She took a deep breath. “Be careful.” She instructed as she leaned up to give him a kiss. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Steve made his way to the car, opened the passenger side of the car and dropped into the seat.

“How you doing?” Sam called with a smile as he squat down to get a better view of both Natasha and the car.

“Hey.” She responded with a small smile.

“Can’t run everywhere.” Steve joked smugly, looking back at the man.

“No you can’t.” Sam chuckled and Steve shot one last look at Katie who waved as Natasha surged the car forward.

Katie watched them go before she turned to Sam.

“Military girlfriend huh?” He teased and she laughed.

“Something like that.” “Fancy a coffee?” Sam nodded to one of the stands parked over on the square and she smiled.

“Sure, why not?”

Sam insisted on paying, despite Katie’s protests and they took their coffees over to a bench, sitting down in the early morning sun. As they talked, Katie fast realised she really liked this man, and he was pretty damned interesting too. He told Katie about his time serving in Afghanistan and how he had chosen, post the loss of his partner, Riley, to leave active service and focus his attention on helping others through work at the VA.

Katie had never really dug into the VA much, but it seemed like it did some pretty good work, helping those Soldiers who needed help adjusting to life post discharges for medical or mental health reasons. Sam confided in her that the DC branch was under threat due to lack of funding, and she made a mental note to speak to Tony about it being something that maybe the Stark Relief fund could look into partnering.

When they both realised they had been sat on the bench chatting for almost an hour and a half the pair of them both, knowing they had other places to be, exchanged numbers and she promised to pass his onto Steve.

The rest of her day went pretty quick, in a flourish of telephone conferences and various other ad-hoc emails to deal with, talking to the editors and Business Development team about potential authors to target. By the time she logged off for the evening it was gone eight. She leaned back in her chair, glancing up at the photos that decorated her office, her eyes being drawn to the one on the shelf of herself and Steve which had been taken at the New Years Eve gala last year. 

Picking up her phone she debated texting him, but she knew better than to bother him. From personal experience, STRIKE missions were heavy going. Instead she decided she was going to break with their usual routine whereby he would come to hers if it wasn’t too late post mission, and she was going to wait for him at his.

******

 “The target is a mobile satellite launch platform: The Lemurian Star.” Rumlow spoke, moving images along a screen as they all stood watching as the jet flew over the Indian ocean. “They were sending up their last payload when pirates took them, ninety-three minutes ago.”

“Any demands?” Steve asked.

“A billion and a half.”

“Why so steep?” Steve asked, frowning. That wasn’t so much steep as fucking vertical.

“Because it SHIELD’s.” Rumlow replied and Steve took a deep breath.

“So it’s not off-course, its trespassing.” He said exasperatedly, turning to his left and looking at Natasha.

“I’m sure they have a good reason.” She met his eyes, her face not faltering for a second.

“You know, I’m getting a little tired of being Fury’s janitor.” Steve raised his eyebrows as she looked back at the screen.

“Relax.” She drawled. “It’s not that complicated”

“How many pirates?” Steve looked back at Rumlow.

“Twenty-five.” he replied, once more swiping at the screen. “Top mercs, led by this guy. Georges Batroc” he pulled up a photo of Batroc on the monitor. “Ex-DGSE, Action Division. He’s at the top of Interpol’s Red Notice. Before the French demobilized him, he had thirty-six kill missions. This guy’s got a rep for maximum casualties.”

“Hostages?” Steve pressed.

“Uh…mostly techs. One officer, Jasper Sitwell.” Rumlow flashed up Sitwell’s photo and Steve shifted slightly “They’re in the galley.”

“What’s Sitwell doing on a launch ship?” He queried, an air of frustration in his tone as he pulled on his gloves before he took a breath and issued his instructions without waiting for an answer. “Alright, I’m gonna sweep the deck and find Batroc. Nat, you’ll kill the engines and wait for instructions. Rumlow, you sweep up after, find the hostages, get them to the life-pods, get ‘em out. Let’s move.”

“STRIKE, you heard the Cap. Gear up.” Rumlow nodded to his team and they all began to bustle around the jet.

Steve moved towards the back, checking his ear piece, raising his wrist communicator to his mouth. “Secure channel seven.”

“Seven secure.” Nat picked up a few more bits of equipment from the shelves, passing a coms device to Evans as Steve walked behind her to the ramp. “Did you do anything fun Saturday night?”

“Well, seeing as all the guys from my barbershop quartet are dead, I had to settle for a movie and pizza with my girl.” He shrugged as he fit his ear piece, a smile tugging at his face. “Yeah, it was fun.”

Natasha grinned and Evans gave a chuckle as the pilot spoke into his ear. “Coming up by the drop zone, Cap.”

Steve punched the button to lower the ramp before he grabbed his helmet.

“You know, I think it’s cute. You’re like a regular, normal couple.”  Evans said, and Steve turned to him as he fastened the straps on his helmet.

“That’s because we are normal.” He replied, a little louder as the noise of the air blowing through the ramp surrounded them. Steve grabbed his shield and swung it onto his back, the irony of his statement making him smile even more as he walked towards the end of the ramp.

“Yeah, because most people do this type of stuff for a living.” Natasha shot after him and he turned to face her, smirking.

“Well, at least it doesn’t get boring.” He grinned, before he threw himself off the jet.

“Was he wearing a parachute?” Rollins turned to Rumlow who gave a huff of a smile.

“No. No, he wasn’t.”

Steve held his arms and hands out to the side of himself as he was free falling through the air, before he shifted, straightening his legs out below him and crossing his arms over his chest. He speared straight into the ice cold water below and, after a moment to adjust, he started swimming toward the ship, using the anchor chain to climb up onto the deck. He dropped silently over the railings and grabbed the guard who had walked past seconds before in a choke hold, rendering him unconscious as noiselessly as he could. Then he set off at a sprint and it wasn’t long before he encountered two more of the pirates. Using his shield he hit the first one and took him down then sent the vibranium weapon flying once more where it ricocheted off the hull of the boat and took down the second. He caught it and continued running around the side of the deck where he encountered another three. The first one he dispatched with a harsh kick, taking the others down with a quick leg swipe and a harsh punch to the face. The next one he saw wasn’t looking so Steve sped up and used his momentum to shoulder barge him over the side of the ship, before he launched at the next one, taking him down with a swinging choke hold. The one after had a knife, which was slightly more inconvenient, but Steve managed to disarm him and used the dagger he now had possession of to pin one of the other guards hands to the wall as he was reaching up to hit the alarm button, before knocking him out with a kick to the head.

That was how it went for the most of it. Steve ran the entire deck, taking everyone down using his shield, arms, legs, body, any means he had before anyone could raise the alarm. And he was almost home and dry, until he dispatched of what he thought was the final merc, until as he caught his shield, he heard the click of a gun right behind his head.

“Bouge pas!” The man spoke and Steve tilted his head slightly to glance at the man in his peripheral, understanding the words to mean don’t move. So he didn’t, especially not as he had just spotted Rumlow drifting down towards the deck. The STRIKE leader shot at the pirate, taking him down and landed a few feet away.

“Thanks.” Steve nodded to him.

“Yeah. You seemed pretty helpless without me.” Rumlow joked and Steve turned to see Natasha and Evans parachute down onto the deck to join them.

“So you know you said before about things not getting boring?” Natasha asked as they strode across the deck, Steve slinging his shield onto his back. “If you ever need any tips on how to keep it from getting boring in the bedroom, just ask.”

Steve shook his head and let out a groan.

“When you gonna ask her to move in with you?” Nat continued.

“Secure the engine room, then we can talk about my sex life and living arrangements.” Steve deadpanned back

“I’m multitasking” Nat sing-songed as she effortlessly hopped over a set of railings, disappearing onto the lower part of the deck.

Steve set off at a run, vaulting up a few steps, using railings to swing himself onto the higher level of the ship before he stopped just below the bridge, shooting one of Lawson’s listening devices at the windows. He listened in as Batroc instructed his men to fire the engines and then Steve retreated to a spot where he could see Batroc clearly through the window of the control bridge. Crouching down he continued to listen into their conversation, easily able to understand the French they were speaking, one of his many skills picked up in the war. It had come easy post the serum, as with everything it had enhanced his ability to memorise and grasp things like that.

Batroc was being informed by one of his officers about the radio silence from SHIELD and Steve watched carefully before Evans’ voice cut across the jabbers of French.

“Targets acquired”

“STRIKE in position” Rumlow replied.

“Natasha, what’s your status?” Steve whispered into his wrist coms, but there was no reply. “Status, Natasha?”

“Hang on!” She said loudly, and Steve waited as he heard a bit of a struggle before she spoke again twenty or so seconds later. “Engine room secure.”

That was it, they were clear to engage.

“On my mark” Steve whispered “Three. Two. One.”

With that he set off running towards the bridge, leaping up a small set off steps before he flung his shield through the window. He jumped in after it and Batroc caught him with a kick to the chest before sprinting off and kicking his way out of the door. Steve jumped up, wrenched his shield from where it had been wedged in the metal panels at the back of the control room and ran after him.

“Hostages on route to extraction.” Rumlow informed as Steve emerged onto the end of a set of steps. “Romanoff missed the rendezvous point, Cap.” The STRIKE leader continued as Steve jumped down onto the main area of the deck. “Hostiles are still in play.”

Steve looked around before he turned on his heels and started walking “Natasha, Batroc’s on the move.” He instructed quietly into his coms. “Circle back to Rumlow and protect the hostages.”

There was no reply, and Steve was starting to get pissed off at her radio silence.

“Natasha!”

But then, out of nowhere Batroc flew at him with another harsh kick which sent Steve flying, and no sooner had he righted himself, there came another. The two engaged, toe to toe, fists flying, legs kicking, arms blocking and Steve had to hand it to Batroc, even after he knocked him down with his shield, the man was quickly back on his feet. Steve aimed a knee to his gut and flipped him backwards only to see Batroc effortlessly fling himself into several back flips before landing on his feet a short distance away, smirking as he eyed Steve up.

“Je croyais que tu étais plus qu'un bouclier.” He chuckled slightly and Steve cocked his head to one side, chewing over the man’s words… I thought that you were more than just a shield.

The arrogance in Steve won out and he straightened up out of his attack stance. You wanna go, fucker? Fine. Let’s dance.

He took a breath, stashing his shield on the harness round his back, and undid his chin strap, pulling his helmet off. “On va voir.” He said simply, tossing it to the floor, his eyes not once leaving Batroc’s who gave a huge grin.

They dodged for a second or two before they began to fight once more, trading punches, kicks and a few more knees to the gut before Steve threw himself up into the air, twirling his body round into a huge over-head kick, connecting his boot straight with Batroc’s head. Batroc fell to the floor and soon staggered back to his feet, but Steve didn’t give him chance to recover properly. He ran at him, spearing them both through a door, and sitting up slighting, Steve knocked Batroc out with a huge punch to the head.

He took a moment to draw his breath when a voice rang out across the room.

“Well, this is awkward.”

He looked up to see Natasha smirking at him from where she was bent over a computer.

“What are you doing?” Steve demanded as he rose to his feet.

“Backing up the hard drive. It’s a good habit to get into.”  She retorted.

Steve glanced over his shoulder, happy Batroc was still out cold, before he strode purposefully towards her.

“Rumlow needed your help. What the hell are you doing here?” He drew up behind her and glanced at the screens. As it registered what she was doing he shook his head in exasperation. “You’re saving SHIELD Intel.”

“Whatever I can get my hands on.” She drawled, still tapping at the computer as she looked at him, before turning back to the screen.

“Our mission is to rescue hostages.” Steve glared at her.

“No. That’s your mission.” Natasha corrected as she finished what she was doing and pulled the pen drive out of the slot. She turned towards him and smiled causing Steve’s anger to bubble even more. “And you’ve done it beautifully.” Her tone was almost patronising as she smirked, moving to pass him.

At that, Steve felt his temper snap and he grabbed her arm stopping her in her tracks. “You just jeopardized this whole operation.”

“I think that’s overstating things.” Natasha stated calmly but before Steve had time to reply a movement caught his attention. Batroc stood up and threw a grenade at the two of them as he ran off. Steve deflected the bomb with his shield before he grabbed Natasha round the waist and hopped up onto the desks. Jumping to another one, Natasha shot out one of the glass windows into an internal office and they dived in just as the bomb exploded.

Smoke, ash and debris rained down on them and Steve gave it a second before he looked over his shoulder and out before sitting back down to take a moment. He was beyond pissed off. Pissed at Natasha and pissed at Fury for not bothering to tell him the full story.

“Okay. That one’s on me.” Natasha breathed out.

“You’re damn right.” Steve grit his teeth and pushed himself up, storming out in anger. Of course, Batroc was nowhere to be found.

**** Steve was that angry about the cluster-fuck of a mission that he didn’t speak a word to Natasha all the way home and yes, he knew it was childish, but he was getting seriously pissed off at the secrets and lies that seemed to be part and parcel of any goddamned mission Fury sent him on. Once back at base he stormed off the jet, ignoring pretty much everyone and simply barking out that they would debrief in the morning.

It was just before midnight when he got home, and as he pulled his bike up into the designated space allotted for his apartment, he noticed Katie’s car was in one of the guest spaces that lined the street. He frowned slightly, she never normally waited at his for him. Not for any particular reason other than he normally spent the hours or so after a mission debriefing before heading home to decompress for a few hours and then if it wasn’t too late he would head to hers. But the more he thought about it now he realised that he had no idea why he did it that way. It wasn’t like she didn’t understand what it was like being a SHIELD operative, or that he didn’t want her at his. 

Knowing that she was there made him smile for the first time since he’d left the Lemurian Star and, despite his various aches and bruises, he found himself taking the steps to his apartment three at a time, his eagerness to see her wiping all other thoughts from his mind.

She was on the couch, bare denim-short clad legs tucked underneath her, and she looked up from the TV as he walked into the living area and leaned in the doorway, smiling softly at the sight of her, hair tousled slightly from where she had been leaning her head against the arm of the couch.

“What are you doing here?” He asked gently as she sat up.

“Decided I’d wait for you.” She shrugged “You complaining?” “Not at all.” He smiled, turning away as he unzipped his jacket and hung it over the back of one of the stools by the breakfast bar before he crossed the room.

“You had a good day?” He asked.

“Yeah.” She replied as he walked back into the lounge. “Vanity Fair have written the article already, if I’m happy with it tomorrow then it’s going to be published this month.”

Steve couldn’t help but smile at her tone. She was proud, and she had every right to be. So was he. Stark Independent Publishing LTD had taken off like a rocket and the glossy magazines were queuing up to interview the youngest Stark prodigee. She had declined all of them until the board had suggested she do one interview for Vanity Fair, along with a photoshoot in her office. She’d reluctantly agreed, but had confided in Steve she’d actually kind of enjoyed it.

“That’s fast.” he said, heading back into the room.

“Yeah they’re really pushing for it.” She smiled as he dropped besides her with a groan, lifting her legs up so they crossed his lap. As he did so he jostled the bruised ribs and muscles he’d obtained on the Lemurian Star and let out a hiss, rubbing slightly at his torso. Katie spotted this, as always, and frowned, moving her legs so she was sat up, scooting over to where he was and gently tugged at his t-shirt. He didn’t stop her as she examined the large bruise over the side of his ribs and gently ran her fingers over it.

“Ouch.” She mumbled softly, looking up at him and then tilting his face round. He knew there was a small cut on his temple but other than that and the bruise to his side he was uninjured. “Is this it?”

He nodded.

“So how did you do it this time?”

“I got blown through a window.” Because that was a perfectly normal thing for Captain America to do, Katie merely rolled her eyes and dropped a kiss to his cheek as she stood up “I’ll get the arnica and fix you something to eat”

He loved this, the way she just wanted to take care of him, but he was aware of what time it was too, and he didn’t want her to feel like she had to play the dutiful housewife.

“Kitten, you should go to bed, its late.” He grabbed her hand. “Once I’ve patched you up and fed you I will.” She shrugged stubbornly, tugging gently on his hand and he allowed himself to be pulled up “Go take a shower, I’ll sort your dinner.”

This time he didn’t protest, simply smiled, dropped a kiss to her head and headed to the bathroom.

He stepped under the hot water cascading from the shower and let out a groan as it hit his body, allowing it temporarily to soothe his mind and his aches. He still couldn’t shake his annoyance at how the mission was gone. Suddenly, he was distracted by his stomach grumbling and he realised he was actually really hungry. He quickly washed off before cutting the water and stepping out, grabbing a towel. He could hear Katie in the kitchen as he walked down the hall towards his bedroom where he dried himself off and dressed in a pair of loose sweats and a grey T-shirt.

The smell of food hit his nostrils as he walked into the kitchen, making his mouth water. Her food was always good, he had no idea what he was in for tonight but he didn’t care. As he approached where she was stood, both his hands dropped to her hips and he placed a soft kiss on her neck, an easy sign of affection before he let out a heavy sigh and reached into the refrigerator.

“So, you wanna tell me what happened?” She asked, turning to look at him as he downed pretty much an entire bottle of water before he slumped down at the breakfast bar and explained everything to her. She listened, asked questions, shook her head, and when he reached the bit about the ransom she whistled slightly through her teeth, coming to the same conclusion he had when he heard the demand.

“That’s steep.” she frowned and Steve snorted.

“That’s what I said. Turns out its SHIELDS.“

The microwave finished and Katie moved to open the door, stirring whatever was in there before removing it and placing it down in front of him, along with a plate of his favourite bread. He was silent for a moment as he stirred the hot stew, Ghoulash, before taking a small mouthful to test the heat. Damned she could cook. He nodded appreciatively.

“It’s good.” “You sound surprised.”

“Behave.” He admonished, giving her a look. “You know what I think about your cooking.”

He continued to eat as she stood up and fished about in the cupboard he stored the bottle of Arnica gel she insisted he keep to hand. As he ate, she settled next to him and hitched his shirt up, gently and carefully applying the ointment to his side. The bruise extended from the middle of his rib cage to an inch or so beneath the band of his sweats.

It was relaxing, and he relished her touch and her gentle tone as she continued to talk.

“So did you get the hostages?”

“Yeah.” He nodded in between mouthfuls. “That bit was pretty easy all things considered.”

“So what’s wrong, love?”

She could tell there was more to his mood than what he had told her, and her instincts were proven right when he let out a soft sigh as she continued to rub at his side softly.

“I’m just annoyed Sweetheart.” He sighed eventually “At Fury, at Romanoff.”

“At Nat? Why?”

“She was running a separate mission, which meant the task I gave her to back Rumlow up with the hostages wasn’t done.”

“Fury?”

He nodded.

“More secrets” Katie sighed, feeling a flash of anger. “You know this is exactly why I got out…legacy or no legacy.”

“Tell me about it.” He dropped the spoon into the empty bowl. “We were lucky no one was hurt, or worse. I mean, Rumlow was great, got everyone out but, Doll, how can I lead a team when half of them are lying to me?”

“Nat was just doing as she was told.” Katie spoke softly, trying to deal with each issue one at a time.

“Since when is retrieving Intel more important than people’s lives?”

“I’m not saying it is. I’m just saying don’t be so hard on her.” She reasoned, her fingers still tracing shapes on his skin. “She has a job to do, same as you. Its Fury you should be talking to about it.”

“Oh I intend to.” Steve snorted. “I’m going to go see him tomorrow morning after de-brief…”

“Well, at least you’ll get an explanation. I mean it might not be what you wanna hear but…”

She was right, of course. Pushing it from his mind, Steve concentrated on her touch as she was still gently rubbing his side. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh of contentment, and was disappointed when she finally finished and let his t-shirt fall down before she stood up to put the ointment away.

“You want any more to eat?” She asked, once she’d washed the arnica off her hands.

“Is there any?” He looked at her hopefully.

She smiled, nodding, and then gave a small yawn which she tried to stifle, but Steve noticed it.

“Okay, I’ll warm some more up and you’re gonna go to bed.” He said, standing up “And that’s an order.”

“Bossy bastard” She retorted. He replied simply with a raised an eyebrow and stern glare as he crossed towards her. She held her hands up, “Okay, I’m going…” She leaned up to kiss to his cheek.

“Won’t be long.” He smiled.

Steve had another bowl of food before he slipped the dishes into the dishwasher and headed to the bathroom to clean his teeth. He turned off the lights, crossed into the dark bedroom and pulled off his T-shirt, sliding into bed behind Katie. His arm curled over her waist, surprise surprise she was in one of his shirts, which did nothing to ebb his growing desire and the twitching in his groin. Hoping she wasn’t asleep, his nose gently nuzzled at her neck, and he was pleased when she responded.

He needed this. Wanted this. Wanted her.

“When you told me to go to bed…” Katie sighed, as his lips gently started their assault on that spot, “I thought you meant to sleep.” “Want me to stop?” Steve practically purred into her neck.

“Didn’t say that.” She replied, rolling her head to catch his lips as his hand crept down her inner thigh. She let out a contented sigh and he smiled against the side of her neck as he traced his fingers over her hip, hand flattening as it crept down and round to the top of her panties, his fingers slipping inside, where he found her hot, wet, ready for him. It was enough to harden him completely as he started to gently tease her, causing her to groan at the pleasure, her back arching whilst his lips continued to kiss and caress her neck.

“Steve.” She moaned softly, her tone pleading. “I want you…”

Fuck, he would never get tired of hearing that. Ever. 

“Yeah?” he whispered.

“Yeah. Please Stevie.” He didn’t think he’d ever be able to say no to her. His hand moved up and he gripped at her hip, gently rolling her so she was lay on her back, using his leg to part hers. He guided his shirt over her head, pulled down her panties, before he stripped off his boxers, fingers lacing in between hers, as he crawled over her, pinning both hands above her head as he worked his way into her. They both groaned as he stretched her, and she looked up at him, those eyes locking onto his as he leant down to kiss her, starting up a slow, gentle pace. He moved slowly, again and again, lips caressing hers, then her jaw, then her neck, all the time his hands wrapped around hers, causing her to surrender to him completely.

He kept up that soft, gentle pace, loving her completely. He could tell she was close, he knew the signs well enough now and as she groaned in delight, tightening around him he coaxed her, “That’s it baby girl…” lips soft on her ear.

And then she came, shuddering underneath him, her head tipping back, as she let out a gentle, low, broken moan of his name. It sent shivers down his spine and he continued to thrust through her orgasm, the tale heat spreading across his belly and then he tipped too, jerking and groaning slightly before he fell forward, burying his face in to her neck.

“Love you.” She whispered softly into his ear as her hand ran up his neck, into his hair and he gave a hum of contentment as he regained control of his senses.

“Love you too, so damned much, Sweetheart.” He rubbed his nose up against hers and she chuckled slightly as he rolled off of her. She scooted closer so she could lay her head on his chest and his arm curled round her, large hand tracing shapes on her skin at the bottom of her back as she tossed her leg over his.

“What time are you in tomorrow?” She asked gently, hand rubbing absentmindedly over his chest.

“Half nine.” He gave a sated yawn.

“We can have breakfast together, I made cinnamon rolls.” She muttered through a yawn of her own.

“That so?” “mmmhmmm”

“You know, you’d make a good little housewife.” He grinned, thinking back to his thought before. He knew her response before she had uttered it. “Fuck you.” He chuckled, dropping a kiss to her head and they both fell silent. And his last thought as he drifted off to sleep was just how her being here had made him almost forget his worries.

Katie lay still, listening to the sound of his breathing which grew even as he fell asleep, clearly exhausted. He always needed food and rest after missions, his metabolism drained him. She stole a glance up at him, long eyelashes lay against his cheek as his head lolled to the side slightly, facing her.

“Night soldier.” She whispered softly, placing a peck on his lips before settling down and succumbing to her own tiredness. ********* Katie woke the next morning, tangled in Steve’s arms, his face pressed into her neck as he’d done his usual koala impression. As gently as she could, she moved to check her phone for the time, and found it to be twenty-five past seven, five minutes before her alarm was due to go off. Cancelling it, she glanced back over at Steve who shifted onto his back, the arm that had been thrown around her gently resting on his chest. Smiling, she climbed out of bed deciding to leave him to sleep as long as she could.

Considering what a light sleeper he normally was, Steve didn’t stir when Katie returned following her shower and was still out of it when she finished dressing so she unset the alarm on his bedside clock and headed to the kitchen. She put on a fresh pot of coffee, threw the fresh rolls she had made the previous day into the oven and settled down on his couch, flipping on the TV whilst she quickly scanned through her phone, looking at her schedule for the day. She only had one meeting in the afternoon, and it wasn’t important so she fired an email through to her PA asking her to reschedule.

At about eight-fifteen, there was still no sign of Steve so Katie headed through to the bedroom to wake him up. Any longer and he would be late for his debrief. He was lay side on, facing her side of the bed so she dropped next to him…

Something was tickling his nose, right on the bridge. He gently sniffed, and then soft lips met his. Again, again…Steve made a completely involuntary noise that was halfway between a groan and a sigh as he realised his girl was kissing him awake, before her lips met his and this time he gently responded.

“Hey.” That soft voice greeted him and he smiled, gently cracking an eye open and meeting that emerald green.

“Morning” He said groggily and she smiled.

“It’s almost eight-fifteen.”

He frowned, that was late. “My alarm didn’t wake me?” “I turned it off, sorry-not-sorry” She said with a tone so blasé it made him chuckle “You needed the rest.” She gave him a soft kiss again “There’s coffee in the kitchen and breakfast is ready.” “You know I could get used to this” He rolled over so he was on his back as she rose from the bed. “Coming home to a ready-made dinner, waking up to ready-made breakfast before I go to work. And you.” “Nice to see which one of those is your priority.” She teased over her shoulder as she left him to it.

“Always you, Doll.” he murmured with a smile. But as he lay still for another few minutes, he thought about it more and more. Over the past four months, other than when they were away either on missions or business trips they had spent every night together, either at his or hers but last night, something had felt different to him, more intimate. She’d taken care of his mission injuries, cooked for him, made love to him, and now here she was making him breakfast before she would wave him off to work later on. It was almost normal, what people with mundane nine to five jobs did. And he realised he wanted that all the time, he wanted to come home, find her there, wake up with her, every single day.

“When you gonna ask her to move in?” Natasha’s voice popped back into his head.

If he was honest, he hadn’t given it a lot of thought, it wasn’t something people did back in his time before marriage. But times were different, hell he was different, and as he lay there contemplating it, he realised, it wasn’t such a bad idea.

When he headed through, Katie was sat at the kitchen table, laptop fired up, mobile glued to her ear.

“I know!” Her tone was one of utter excitement. “I mean I didn’t think they would turn out so good…or they’d be done so fast but they’re pushing for this month’s edition…”

He dropped a kiss to her neck and glanced at the screen, pausing when he saw the image. It must have been one of the photos done whilst she was in New York and as he looked at it, he felt his mouth drop open. His girl was stood against a wall in her office in the tower, one leg bent, high heeled foot raised back against the flat surface behind her, palms splayed either side of her thighs as she looked to the right. Her hair was pulled back in a slick, high pony tail, her make-up was heavier than normal and utterly flawless, and she was dressed in a grey charcoal pinstripe suit which cinched in at her waist, with a low cut white blouse underneath.

“Yeah, I know Tony.” She continued speaking into the phone as she glanced up and saw the expression on his face. She pressed a button on the keyboard and it flipped to another picture, this one of her sat in her chair, legs apart, elbows resting on her knees, as she looked beyond the camera, laughing at something. She looked absolutely fucking stunning. His eyes roved the image on the digital copy of the article and he began to read the writing that was next to it.

There are a lot of things you might absolutely hate about Katie Stark. Aged just twenty-nine she has more money than anyone could possibly wish to spend in a life-time, looks and a figure that you would kill for, and a Super Soldier Boyfriend with a jawline that seems to be carved from marble. However, after thirty seconds in her company despite wanting to hate her for all of the above, it was simply impossible not to like her.

Unassuming, accommodating, and with a smile that you simply can’t help but return, she welcomed us into her office and was remarkably humble about the entire thing, admitting that she still wasn’t quite so sure why we were so interested in her. We took the time to grill her on how the first three months of Stark Independent Publishing LTD has gone and what we can look forward to in the future.

Katie stood up and gestured for him to sit down and carry on reading the article. She headed off into the living room, continuing her call, so he read as he ate a hot cinnamon bun. The article ploughed through a load of questions about the book that had launched the business when they published, the fact the company had already registered over fifty-percent first quarter turnover, where she thought the business was going, future pipeline projects, her favourite authors, genre, books, previous role in Stark Industries before she had spent a few years working for a Government Agency following the Battle of New York (no mention of Supernova or SHIELD) and then the final paragraph took a personal turn.

When asked if she would indulge us with a personal question she sighed slightly before grinning and telling us to ask and see if she answered. So we did…

“We know that you’re a notoriously private person, in comparison to your brother anyway, but most of our readers are dying to know…what’s it like dating Captain America?”

“No idea, I’m dating Steve Rogers.” She replied immediately, a faint flush hitting her cheeks as she spoke, all the time fiddling with a delicate yet gorgeous antique looking emerald ring which sits on her right hand, a gift we suspect from the man in question. When asked to elaborate slightly, she bit her lip and simply smiled before explaining; “Steve isn’t just Captain America. There’s more to him than a shield. He’s the kindest, gentlest, most caring man I’ve ever met and he makes me unbelievably happy.” The blush spread from her cheeks to her ears “And that’s not down to the Serum or outfit, it’s just who he is. The fact he’s 6ft2, drop dead gorgeous with a smile I’d happily die for is a bonus.”

Steve felt himself grin as he read the words and glanced at the small photo they had framed the paragraph round. It was the shot of them together that had been taken at the Stark Industry’s New Year’s Gala as they danced. His eyes continued to the final part of the article, this one complete with a picture of Katie and Tony. Katie sat at her desk as Tony leaned over, looking at something on the computer screen. 

When asked about the other man in her life, her brother Tony, she smiled again, another genuine smile, the love she has for her elder sibling evident on her face and in her voice.

“I owe everything I have to Tony. He brought me up from the age of seven, gave me absolute, unconditional love and opportunities I know I was extremely fortunate to have. People have a pre-conceived image of what he is like, and sometimes he can play into that, but to me he’s been nothing but loving and supportive, my father and brother rolled into one and I can’t thank him enough for everything he has done and given me. He backed my decision to open SIP from the off and believed in me and has always pushed me to be the best I can be.”

We couldn’t resist another personal question, so we asked her a little cheekily how Tony had reacted to news that she was dating one of his fellow Avengers, who had served alongside their Father Howard in WW2. Hesitating slightly, she flushed before smirking and answering, a grin on her face.

“How he found out wasn’t ideal, but once he realised we were serious, he was fine about it. I think deep down after my last car crash of a relationship, he’s just happy I’m with someone who puts me first.”

“Do they get on?” At that she laughed. “They have a love-hate relationship. In that they hate the fact they love one another. Tony has these ridiculous nicknames for Steve and he can be an absolute nightmare at times, but to be fair Steve’s quite sarcastic himself too but I know full well that they have each other’s six and, even though they would probably deny it, they are quite close and would miss one another if they weren’t around.”

Steve, grudgingly, had to admit she was right. Tony could be a pain in the ass at times, but he would miss the billionaire if he wasn’t there. Underneath all his bravado he knew that he thought the world of his sister and, despite their initial meeting whereby Steve frankly thought the guy was a dick, he’d fast learnt during the Chitauri Battle that underneath that persona he had a heart of gold and was more like his father than he would care to admit. A fact that Steve was even more convinced of having gotten to know him much better on a personal level over the last two years or so.

Whilst the siblings certainly share a lot of attributes, both good looking, tough, hard-working, Katie has a certain softness to her edges and we challenge anyone who spends time in her company not to warm to the youngest Stark. Stark Independent Publishing has, in our opinion, a very bright future ahead of it whilst it is spearheaded by such an astute and shrewd business woman and we wish her all the best.

“What do you think?” Katie watched as Steve read the article, leaning against the wall, nibbling at her thumb, nervous to see his reaction.

Steve jerked his head round and smiled at her. “I think it’s fantastic. The photos are stunning, the article is well written. Are you happy with it?” “Yeah.” she nodded as she walked over to his chair, standing behind it and slipping her arms round his shoulders from behind “They wouldn’t drop the whole So you’re dating Captain America angle though, so our PR department told me to answer a few personal questions to shut them up. Are you ok with it?” Steve smiled and turned side on in his seat, pulling her into his lap. “Seeing as I’m the kindest, gentlest, most caring man you’ve ever met how could I not be?” “I meant every word of that.” She smiled, rubbing her nose against his.

“I know baby.” He gave her a peck on the lips. “Now I need to go or I’m gonna be late.”

Sighing she stood up as he did the same, grabbing a final cinnamon bun from the plate.

“I’ll be back at mine” She informed him as she walked to the door with him, “I have a few calls to do this morning.” “I’ll come over when I’m done.” He smiled. “And maybe we can do something this afternoon?”

“Sounds perfect”

***** Chapter 14

**Original Posting**

[onelastbreath-writes]

I Spy

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales/Fem!Reader (AFAB, no y/n)

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: Brief mention of bad(abusive/manipulative) parents, general adult topics, swearing.

Summary: You meet a cute guy at a bar, you date, you fall in love, and oops, it turns out you’ve both been lying about your careers. Classified only stays classified until you get assigned a mission together. (SpecOps&Spies, with Young!Frankie)

A/N: Hey guys, I was bad and started another fic. Whoops. This one is for Triple Frontier because I love that soft boi Francisco. The flavour of this fic, the vibe if you will, is basically the spiderman pointing meme. I’ve vaguely set the timeline to like mid-2000s? so I’ll be trying my best to stay true to technology and aesthetic of the era. There was so much denim. Anyways, that means I’m trying to write for about a 27-33 year old Frankie and a similarly aged reader. I don’t see this series being more than a couple chapters at best, so it’ll be short and sweet. Also, like, very little angst if I can help it; I just want this one to be a good, cute, fun read. Hope y’all enjoy! Xoxo

[AO3][Masterlist]

“So, you’re coming out tonight, right? You’re not busy or anything?”

“Please don’t say it like that, you know how busy work actually is. And I’m a grown woman; if I didn’t want to go to a shady dive bar with you and your very loud friends from the office, I’d say so,” You loved your best friend, and you missed spending time together, but you really couldn’t say the same for her co-workers.

You had nothing against the women she worked with, and you found that they were all perfectly lovely and usually quite fun to be around… it was just that when the alcohol came out, the volume control and verbal filters disappeared.

You wouldn’t say that barhopping was what you’d prefer to be doing tonight, along with more or less babysitting your friend and her friends, but you didn’t know when you’d next be able to squeeze in a night off to just hang out and have fun, so this was happening. You would laugh and smile and keep the drunk secretaries from going home with questionable people, and then you would look back on your ladies’ night with fond memories until you could eventually attend another.

You had known when you picked your career that it would be an around-the-clock, all-day, every-day sort of thing. You never deluded yourself into thinking you would have much of a social life or long-term relationships. Most partners, hell even most friends, would have a problem with you jetting off for weekends, or disappearing for days at a time under mountains of paperwork and appointments.

It just made your best friend that much more important to you. You’d met as kids, went through years of school beside each other, hung out, did stupid teenager things and then stupid young adult things together. You’d cried and laughed and fought and made up a million times, you’d gone to different colleges and still kept in touch, moved away, moved back, and you were still going strong. She was your ride-or-die, your anchor and your parachute and everything in between, so if you could use some of your precious, hoarded, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it time off to see her, that’s just what you’d do.

“You should take some of that fire, and direct it at your boss. Tell him no for a change. I’d love to see his face at that!” She meant well, always trying to look out for you and your health when it came to your beyond demanding job. You weren’t even allowed to tell her a fraction of what you were doing in your professional life, and she knew it, but that didn’t stop her from being ready to throw fists at your employer at a moment’s notice.

“One does not simply tell the über-rich that they don’t need to fly to Paris, again. Being a PA is a full-time nannying gig, except your charge is an adult who can argue when you say no, and you cannot put them on timeout when they’re being a brat. Where he goes, I go, and unless something drastic happens, it will probably continue on like that for a while.” She laughed at your jokes, and your heart hurt a little less at her glee. You knew she would never give up on you or blame you for your work being unpredictable, but that didn’t make the sting of last-minute cancels and missed outings hurt any less, for either of you.

“But it must be nice, just getting on a plane and going somewhere amazing at the drop of a hat. Travelling the world like a superstar, meeting people, having amazing adventures with mysterious strangers…”

“Easy there, Mamma Mia, your wanderlust is showing. And I’d take you with me in a heartbeat if I could. You were born to be a jetsetter, not to be stuck in this town with nothing but the office cubicle beside you to stare at. And I still think you should apply for one of those immersive culture grants you keep mooning over. They’d be fools not to fund your writing expedition!” She was an incredible person, three full degrees to her name in the time it took a normal student to get one, and a brain that could run miles around the rest of the professionals in her field. But she was tethered to this quiet backwater town, and she wasn’t free to fly like she deserved.

“You know I can’t just… go, like you can. My mom, it’d just break her heart… I don’t want to leave her alone, not after Dad,” You honestly doubted that you’d ever meet a woman more horrible and undeserving of her own daughter’s kindness. Helen was a parasite full of lies and manipulations and greed, and she had attached herself like a bad rash to your friend after she’d chased away the rest of her family members.

Your friend searched for the good in everyone, but you wished she’d stop looking for it at that home.

“You deserve your own happiness and freedom, and she should be encouraging you to spread your wings if and when you’re ready.” Politicking your friend was never something you enjoyed. She was the last person you wanted to use your negotiating credentials and sly subterfuge tactics against, but you wanted, needed, her safety and health more. You considered it almost bribery; dangling her dream future in front of her in exchange of being rid of the garbage in her life.

“Hey now, we’re getting way too deep into sad-drunk night conversations, and this is strictly a happy-fun-drunk night. Please leave all baggage and woes at the door, thank you!” You admitted your defeat and surrendered your verbal power point on Why Helen Needs to Disappear. You would get her next time for sure, give her the accelerant to burn down that bridge. “Anyways, the reason I called was to remind you of our haunt for the night. One of the girls, Kelly, you remember Kelly, found this adorable little hole in the wall. A total boys’ club apparently: darts, pool, sports games on the TV, but Kelly’s sister’s friend’s brother Tyler said the place was a favourite of the local army guys. So, if nothing else, we’ll at least have some hunks to look at for a while. It’ll be great!”

You jotted down the directions to the bar as she listed them, and the time you were expected to arrive there.

“Oh! And wear that cute little blue number you bought last spring; I know you still have it so don’t you dare lie. It makes your ass and legs look divine, and I think you could stand to make a new acquaintance tonight.” That Little Blue Number was buried in the back of your closet where you had hoped it would remain forever, but luck was not on your side tonight it seemed. But it did make you look, and feel, fantastic.  It was just so… breezy. “And heels! Real ones, not your cute little personal assistant kitten heels. Those black strappy ones would work like a dream!” You just sighed dramatically into the receiver and agreed to her demands.

“I’ll let you go now, and yes, I suppose I can be presentable tonight, dress and all. See-ya later!”

---

Hole in the wall was right. This place was basically underground it was so on the D.L. It was warm inside though, and in the middle of autumn with so much skin on display, you could not be more pleased to get away from the chilled outside air.

You would describe the interior as comfortable with a hint of rustic; lots of warm dark wood and low lights, mixed with the soft Latin music crooning in the background and the few patrons’ conversations adding to the ambience.

All in all, it was probably the nicest dive bar you’d been to in your hometown.

Your party was easy to spot where they had claimed a group of pushed together tables towards the far side of the establishment, and you carefully made your way over to them in your tricky high heels.

You said your hellos to returning faces and introduced yourself to the new additions, and accepted the chair you were pointed to and the drink pressed into your hand.

And so, the hours rolled.

You had enjoyed two fruity cocktails and a flaming shot before you called it quits on the alcohol for the night. You still had a few hours to sober up enough to drive home safely, and you would be able to help the girls get to their rides and ways home too. You appreciated having a social drink or two, but you didn’t care for hangovers and would happily take slightly tipsy over party-hard drunk anytime. Plus, your contract stated you were on-call, always, and you could be required to navigate high-stress negotiations at the drop of a hat. It was just better to cut yourself off, then reap the consequences of your actions later.

You tapped your friend’s shoulder as you walked past and leaned over to talk into her ear. “I’m getting some water for the table; do you want anything else?”

“Mmmm, no I think we’re good for now, thanks!” She was plastered already, but she had a huge grin on her face and was laughing at her co-workers’ stories, so you considered it a win of a night. You gave her a pat goodbye and swayed your way to the bar.

But you just were not accounting for the uneven floorboards, or how much your heels affected your currently less than steady equilibrium, and before you could blink you were teetering over into a nasty fall.

“Whoa there, easy does it, muñequita” Arms wrapped around you and pulled you back into a warm chest. “Careful now, don’t go twisting an ankle in those fancy shoes.”

You certainly did not account for the man you turned around to face. Wow.

His hands glided respectfully from where he had caught you around the waist to your still bent and held out elbows, steadying you as you swayed dangerously again.

Warm brown eyes, soft brown curls, and the sweetest smile you’d ever seen. It felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest, and you knew that it wasn’t left over adrenaline from your near wipeout. He was gorgeous and handling you so gently, and you wanted to spend forever in that moment.

“Hey there, palomita, I’m Frankie, can I buy you a drink?”

[Next Part]

[lilydalexf]

Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with Marasmus

Marasmus only has a handful of fics left at Gossamer, but you can find more X-Files fics at AO3 (as finisterre). Some of my favorites of her stories I've recced here before, including one of the most clever fics you could read, Cellphone (here at AO3), and the lovely, London-set A Candle for Katherine (here at AO3, bonus commentary at LJ). Big thanks to Marasmus for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

Mine, yes, older XF in general, no — some of that stuff is amazing. Though I wonder how well fandom operates now there is not a plethora of rec sites. I know of yours and one more Tumblr blog and that’s it.  I find it really difficult to find good stories in any fandom unless someone whose taste maps to mine recommends something.

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

I look back on it fondly, but it was one of the first things that really hammered it home to me that every grouping throughout life follows the pattern of school.

A lot of people are really talented and funny and kind. Then there are absolute ego-rampaging nightmares who act like lady bountiful in public but do cruel things in private, or chuck their toys out of the pram at the least provocation.

And like school, fandom brings together a disparate group of people who you’re friendly with, but once you leave, the ones you stay in touch with are your friends.

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

Thank God.

I watched the show pre-widespread internet and mostly when I had almost no money. I didn’t have regular internet access until the third season, and that was only at my incredibly conservative workplace. I didn’t get home internet access until midway through season six. You couldn’t download episodes easily, you couldn’t stream, you just had to wait until it aired overseas. I decided I didn’t care if I was spoiled and that worked for me. In fact for some particularly annoying episodes, I was glad.

I was a newsgroup and mailing list sort of person. Never really did message boards unless a newsgroup counts, though I had a Haven account.

What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

Mostly, how talented people are. I know some are now professional writers, but so many people who didn’t do it as anything but a hobby were also amazing.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

I always liked science fiction, oddness and urban legends, so it was kind of made for me. But it was the relationship between Mulder and Scully that kept me around, and after season six, it was the fandom that kept me around. I loved Scully in particular, cos let’s be honest, Mulder can be kind of a twerp at times.

What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

I hung out on alt.tv.xfiles.analysis (a newsgroup), which was one of the smartest boards I’ve ever been on. The threads were full of well-read, erudite people. That led to a site which collated reviews of XF episodes. They mentioned alt.tv.xfiles.creative, and I got there the summer after Gethsemane, which was pretty optimal timing.

I’d take floppy disks into conservative workplace and quietly download the most gloriously filthy fanfic onto them for reading at home on my ancient second-hand Mac.

After that I joined Scullyfic, a mailing list, which was a lovely place to hang out for a while, and got stories through a couple of other mailing lists.

What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?

Like my relationship to ice hockey: glad that activity exists and that some people enjoy it, but not watching and not involved myself.

Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

Reading, yes, and writing the odd bit of feedback, but any other fandom involvement didn’t really take. I’ve never found a bunch of people I liked as well as I liked some of the people in XF.

Who are some of your favorite fictional characters? Why?

I am usually more interested in female characters than male ones (the Doctor, Mulder and Jack O’Neill notwithstanding), which is why I only read a bit of m/m slash. I usually develop a perverse dislike for any woobie the fandom loves.  

Some favourites are: Samantha Carter and Jack O’Neill, Granny Weatherwax, Furiosa, everyone from The Good Place, Donna Noble, Sarah Jane Smith, Martha Jones and Yasmin Khan, Maia from The Goblin Emperor, Cordelia Naismith and Miles Vorkosigan, General Leia Organa, Rey and Finn, and lately all of The Old Guard, even Booker...

I like nerds, pining, best friends discovering feelings for each other, second chances, redemption narratives, people being sneaky for good ends and stoics who stay stoic through all kinds of misery, only to crack and start crying when they get a happy ending.

Basically, you know Eleanor at the end of the Emma Thompson Sense and Sensibility? That.

Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?

No. I had about four years there where I made up stories about Mulder and Scully on any commute where I’d forgotten a book, but that’s gone now. I watched two episodes of the revival, but it wasn’t for me.

Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom?

I occasionally wander in and read a bit on AO3, but nothing that deals with anything past season seven. Not interested in William, not interested in domestic fiction, not even interested in post-col any more, which was 100% my crack during XF fandom days. I did read By the Dim and Flaring Lamps [Lilydale note: by @sunflowerseedsandscience] earlier this year. Love a bit of AU historical.

I read lots of different fandoms, though I am between intense enthusiasms at the moment, which always feels a bit odd.

Do you have any favorite X-Files fanfic stories or authors?

Yes, but they’re all about 20 years old. Is there such a thing as fandom classics any more?  There used to be a litany of stories that ‘everyone should read’. I wonder how well they hold up now.

I think there are waves of writers who come into a fandom and then leave again: I think I was part of a second wave, with the first wave being Mustang Sally, RivkaT, Karen Rasch, Lydia Bower, Nascent etc.

Then there must’ve been a third wave for the revival (and mini-waves in between). I don’t know that group of writers, so I am probably leaving out people who are really good.

One of my favourite Scully voices is Five Years and One Night [Lilydale note: by Shalimar], because of the contrast between her inner monologue as written and how little she actually says.

I really like quieter, thoughtful authors like Michelle Kiefer, Cecily Sasserbaum, Scullysfan, Cofax, Anjou, Maria Nicole, Kipler.  Love everything Kel ever wrote.

At one point there were also about three authors called Rachel who were knockout. I like to think Rachel Howard is writing professionally because it’s a waste of talent if she’s not. Rachel Anton had a crazy gift for pacing and wrote a good Krycek.

I really liked Branwell’s strange AU novels, which riff off The Field Where I Died (a wretched episode but so much good writing came from it.) [Lilydale note: Condemned to Repeat It by Branwell is a really long story involving The Field Where I Died.]

Everyone who is reccing other people’s stuff here is also a good writer. (and their taste in recs is — mostly — excellent): http://www.thebasementoffice.com/museaxfnet/museans/TitlesAF.html

What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

I like The Flexible Concept of Tomorrow. I loved trying to work out the timelines. I like the one about airships and cross-dressing which only exists on my iPhone and in my imagination right now.

Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

Only an AU, if ever. I am completely at sea with canon.

Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

In my head. Mostly AUs. Everyone has daemons! It’s an airship! They’re exploring space! It’s mediaeval Slovenia!

Most of my creativity is sucked away by work. Which is good I suppose, as writing fanfic never paid my Netflix subscription.

Where do you get ideas for stories?

Reading long-form journalism and non-fiction books.  

What's the story behind your pen name?

Well, I changed mine. The first one was picked out of a magazine article about Branwell Bronte, and I liked the shape of the word. Then I got to feel uncomfortable with it because it was a real illness that made people suffer. The current one comes from the shipping forecast when I was a kid.

Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?

No, and also absolutely not. Over my dead body. Over YOUR dead body.

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

I took my stories off Gossamer but I don’t remember why. They’re on AO3 now and there are probably stray copies on some archives out there.

Is there anything else you'd like to share with fans of X-Files fic?

I have made all of these mistakes. All of ‘em.

— On no account offer unsolicited concrit. In fact, do not provide concrit EVEN IF THE PERSON ASKS FOR IT, unless you know them reasonably well and it’s in private.

— Avoid the wank. If you have the perfect riposte to something awful, write it and file it to drafts for two days. If you still want to send it after that, godspeed.

— Write anything you want, and when you start keep going. You can edit later.

— Never put any story into the public sphere unless you’ve had a second pair of eyes on it, preferably the eyes of someone who is willing to say “are you SURE about that?”

Finally, just have fun. Being in the grip of love of story is a wonderful thing, and you never know how long it will last.

(Posted by Lilydale on September 29, 2020)

[nightswithkookmin]

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=GUpZxEXnvAc

again jikook acting strange to each other. I don't know, but I feel that something is happening between them. I can start thinking about the hypothesis of this being the real jikook ... jimin doesn’t give a damn to jk, it just feeds an old story from the past because the fans like it: a jimin who loves jk unconditionally and is always looking for his love. or maybe they are just in another fight, I don't know ... I wanted to fully understand what has happened between them ... analyzing these two last leaked videos and other moments out of bh's camera, jk looks like the one who runs after jimin in real life, but why on camera does jimin act to look the opposite?

I-

You know what? Don't let JK hear you say things like that. Lmho. His pan is lethal.

Don't say I didn't warn ya. Lol

Is something actually happening between them or do you FEEL there is something happening between them?🤔

The link you shared doesn't work. I tried manual search too but the video itself is not available. Thus, I can't comment on it unfortunately. Is it the recent video of them rehearsing for AMA? DM me with it if you can.

Also what other BH moment are you referring to?

Anywho, in regards to that whole Jikook don't interact behind cameras theory, Jimin doesn't care about JK when the cameras go off, Jikook is fanservice and other variants of these theories peddled by nonshippers and shippers of Jikook alike, I think I've made my stance unequivocally clear- I don't share that view.

I am well aware of Jikook's interactions behind the cameras. Seen enough leaked footages and saesang-esque prints throughout the years to know these kinds of assumptions are just that- assumptions.

I get called a whole lot of names, by both Tuktukkers and some Jikookers- and as a good samaritan just pointed out to me, 'my views on Jikook are very controversial' but I am an Alt- shipper not a con shipper and even though our views may align sometimes on certain things, most times we are going to hold divergent views simply because we are viewing them through different lenses.

It doesn't mean my perspective is superior and theirs is inferior or vice versa. It doesn't mean my views are valid and theirs is not or vice versa. They are just different views. Different schools of thoughts. Neither is right or wrong or fact, OR FACT- this is the shipping industry, we are all delusional until Jikook come out as LGBTQ plus couples.

And I think if I've been peddling anything so far, it's that Jikook are human, they don't kumbaya all the time- on or off cameras. They aren't holding hands walking into the sunset, harmonizing to a Marvin Gaye song while flipping one for Jesus.

There are lots of ups and downs with those two, petty fights, serious fights, breakups, make ups, a lot of pouting when JK has gone on longer without sex- that's when he starts growling at anyone who as much as breaths near Jimin, and when Jimin throws it back for him that's when he too starts crying when JK touches another member's neck, bless them- it's a vicious cycle, those two. Lol There's a lot of work related stress, bad hair days, I hate mondays and an excessive amount of anomalies in their day to day interactions on or off cameras that is all so quintessentially human things of them to do, from my perspective.

So whatever you are feeling could just be them being real and human? Chilee, I don't know. Lol

The way that I ship them, I try to reconstruct their interactions based on things that go on around them, their interactions with their bandmates- sometimes the tension between Jikook is just because JM is fighting with V not JK, or JK with- well all of them. Lol

Their mood could also be as a result of their tensions with their company, manager, stylist Noona- getting overworked, overwhelmed by tasks, disapproving of certain content they are made to film etc.

I take into consideration all these things, their company's marketing strategy, the political climate in SK, social events in SK, protests, controversies surrounding them, and basically anything that I feel can impact and influence their moods in a given moment in any way so I can make sense of certain moments when they do happen involving them- doesn't mean the conclusions I draw are facts. Hell I get it wrong sometimes. Lol

So when you say, you analyzed those videos I hope you tried to draw on context? I hope you took into account other things that could have induced those moods you were seeing? I hope you took into consideration their past behaviors, certain patterns of behavior in their interactions and not just based your opinion on your feelings?

I really would like to see the moments, you are referring to but as I've said, I believe that of the photoshoot was a manifestation of a lovers squabble between them- don't know about the rest.

Friends fight, relatives fight, lovers fight. Hell, Vmin, Yoonmin, Taekook and all these other pairs fight too and they admit it. We've seen Taejin go at it, Taegi and the whole hand holding each time they disagree saga- It's one of the things that set BTS apart from other Kpop bands who peddle the Kumbaya narrative and throw dust in their fans' eyes only to reveal years later how much a certain bandmate hated and abused them to the point it drove them to attempt to take their own lives.

And I'm glad you don't seem to hold on to that Jikook kumbaya narrative. You seem open minded, I can work with that. Lol.

When JK talked about the rain fight, JM asked 'which one' so clearly there's been more than one fight and we've seen a few of those with our own eyes cough cough. So yea, you could be right about the mood being a fight. I guess. Haven't seen it so again, I don't have an opinion there.

Also, bare in mind as I keep pointing out, Bighit does not feed us content in real time and most of the moments we see tend to be very anachronistic and can lose its context if you are not keeping an eye on the timeline.

I really don't know the thought process that goes into these other theories you've mentioned and so I can't give any constructive feedback on those. But I try to share my thought process as much as I can.

And I'm glad you at least believe JK 'runs' after JM in real life because that whole JK hates JM narrative takes a few lives off of my chest. Lol

With JM, well I keep saying the person we see on our screens is mostly a persona. And I did say in a past post that that whole 'boy unconditionally in love with JK' is a facade. From my point of view at least. But that doesn't mean he is not in love with JK. He really is. HE IS- he just doesn't show it in the way we think he does with JK. In my opinion.

Jimin's persona is a topic I can't wait to further discuss and get into- will be doing that soon. I hope we can have this conversation after my post so we compare notes and share ideas? I would really love that.

I hope this helps and thanks for the Ask. Namaste.

Signed,

GOLDY

[spaceskam]

a little bit of Alex attempting to chill for @bamfalexmanes ❤️

ao3

warning: mentions of forlex, mentions of noah

Alex woke up at 5 o’clock sharp.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” 

Alex jumped at the voice and was about two seconds away from setting off his taser before he realized who had spoken. Isobel, for some reason, was standing at the foot of his bed with her arms crossed over her chest. He dropped the taser and took a deep breath, unable to stop staring at her like she’d lost her damn mind.

“Why are you here? No, how are you here? I have a fuck ton of security,” Alex said. Isobel gave that award-winning smile and came closer to sit on the edge of his bed.

“And I have a very talented brain,” she said, batting her eyelashes. Alex rolled his eyes. “I’ve decided you needed a day off. You’ve been stressed out and it’s stressing me out, so I called in sick for you and broke in to turn your alarm off and you woke up without it.”

“The alarm is just in case,” Alex said, still glaring at her. She rolled her eyes and shoved his shoulders in a failed attempt at making him lay back down. “You can’t just call into my work or decide I need a day off. I have shit to do.”

“Not anymore,” she insisted, “I called in and your superior completely understood and said to rest and I got Michael and Kyle to take on all your alien-investigation duties, so you’re free. And I’ve got your nice little woodland boyfriend to agree to a chill Alex day. No stress today, it’s forbidden.”

“I don’t actually trust them to do my work, so now I’m going to just stress more because I know they’ll fuck it up,” Alex shot back.

“Nope,” she said, patting his head, “Michael is pretty meticulous about doing things just the way you like it. It’s gross.” Alex kept his glare. “Seriously, go back to sleep.”

“I can’t sleep once I wake up.”

“Well, then stay in bed. I’ll cook you breakfast in bed or something.”

“Isobel--”

“Hush,” she said, pressing her finger to his lips and ignoring the annoyed look on his face, “You’ve done a lot for us, let us do something for you for once, okay?”

Reluctantly, Alex agreed and slowly laid back in bed.

“Isobel, if you’re making eggs, make sure you use the--”

“Nope! Not controlling anything today! La-la-la, can’t hear you being controlling!” she yelled, covering her ears as she left the room. Alex rolled his eyes and tried to relax.

Relaxing definitely didn’t come easy to him, it never had. He’d clung onto the little bit of control he had and, if he lost that, it stressed him out. He remembered always taking over in school projects and taking over making dinner when he was younger, always convinced that if he didn’t do it himself it wouldn’t get done right. As an adult, he clung to that control all the same. But Isobel had apparently done a lot to make him have a stress-less day, so he was going to enjoy it. Or try.

He made it five minutes before he grabbed his phone.

Isobel had put it on Do Not Disturb which he had to maintain a massive amount of willpower to not turn off. Instead, he went ahead and called Forrest himself. Then he would abide by Isobel’s relaxation rules.

“Excuse me, did I misread something? I thought it was let Alex relax day,” Forrest asked, amusement in his voice. Alex smiled and tried to focus on his light existence to help him relax.

“It is, but I’m convinced Isobel is deliberately using the wrong pan,” Alex admitted. Forrest snorted and Alex could hear the sounds of horses in the background. It was nice having a boyfriend on a ranch--he was always up as early as Alex. 

“How dare she use the omelet pan for scrambled eggs?” Forrest teased. 

“You say it like it’s funny,” Alex said. Forrest laughed easily.

“It is funny. Just relax, babe. Isobel has been planning this for, like, two weeks. She even made you guys a reservation at a spa. Which I’m only telling you because I know you don’t like surprises, but act surprised whenever y’all show up,” he informed. Alex took a deep breath.

“Thank you,” he said. Forrest hummed in response.

“And if you want me to come over and help you relax a little more tonight, I can. Shine the bat signal and I’ll be over in the blink of an eye,” Forrest said.

“I might take you up on that. Haven’t decided how effective Isobel’s relaxation techniques are going to work on me,” Alex admitted, letting the line fall silent. Eventually, though, he sighed and sat up. “Okay, I’m gonna try to enjoy it. Keep your afternoon free.”

“Every moment of every day is free if you’re the one asking.”

“Dork.”

“Always.”

Alex ended the call and put his phone in his dresser drawer. He was going to try. If Isobel went through all this trouble, it was the least he could do. 

He stretched and grabbed the remote from the foot of the bed, turning on the TV and going to Netflix. He decided on New Girl (only because Forrest had already started watching it on his account) and tried to just relax.

And it was still hard.

“Aw, look at you, still laying in bed after twenty minutes,” Isobel teased, coming in with two plates of food. He tried not to be concerned when she sat beside him in bed. He usually didn’t eat in bed and he had a lot of memories of his father being angry at him for having food in his bedroom. But he was a grown ass man and he could wash the sheets.

“I’ve laid in bed longer than twenty minutes after I woke up before,” Alex said.

“I mean when you don’t have someone in bed being all distracting,” Isobel said. Alex didn’t correct her. “Thought so.”

For an episode of the show that Alex found funny enough, they sat and ate. Alex thanked her for cooking and tried not to think about if she used the wrong pan or the wrong spatula or the wrong plate. He allowed the plates to be put on the nightstand to take out of the room later and they both laid down and let it go to the next episode.

He felt himself start to relax a little more. Every time his mind tried to remind him of something he needed to do, he shut it down and reassured himself that Michael and Kyle were taking care of it. And if he snuck away later to call Michael to double check, Isobel didn’t need to know.

There was a point where Isobel started telling random stories about whatever she could think of. It was such a distinct thing that he chose not to say anything about. She was trying to open up. She was trying to be a friend. He was going to let her and reciprocate because that didn’t sound bad.

“Wait, wait, back up, you did what?” Alex laughed. Isobel grinned.

“Technically it was more Max and Michael’s doing, but they broke into the football team’s locker room and stole all of their socks after they laughed at me for something I don’t even remember. I think I was blacked out at the time, but they still just wanted to defend me,” Isobel said. Alex laughed and shook his head.

“But why their socks?”

“Small, but extremely annoying,” Isobel pointed out, “They threw them in the desert.”

“Jesus,” Alex laughed, “My brothers would never.”

“Well, you’re in luck because you’ve got people that would do it for you now,” she said, giving him that same wild smile. Alex huffed and nodded.

“Good, I’ll let you know if there’s any socks that need to be stolen.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

They laid there for awhile, until the birds had stopped chirping for the morning and the clock read 8:30. Then she suggested he get ready because she had some plans for the day. Already knowing what those were, he agreed.

He let himself take his time, actually taking his time on washing his face and fixing his hair. He wanted to look nice if he was supposed to be feeling nice. He got his prosthetic on and chose something nice but comfortable and decided it was good enough. When he came out of the bathroom, Isobel whistled her appreciation.

“Damn, I knew you had it in you to look good,” Isobel said.

“Here I was thinking I always looked good.”

“Eh, well, your fatigues make you look boxy and when you slick your hair back, you look like you’re trying to blend in too much. I like the messy look with the whole tank-top-open-button-up combo you got going on,” Isobel said, gesturing to him. Alex laughed and rolled his eyes.

“Well, thanks, I guess,” Alex snorted. He looked over to the nightstand to see that she’d already taken them to the kitchen. He just hoped she washed them. “So, what exactly are the plans for today?”

“I’ve got a few things in mind,” Isobel said, that sly little smile on her face. He huffed a laugh and mentally thanked Forrest again for spoiling it for him.

Within a few hours, Alex found himself laid out on a massage table a few feet away from Isobel. She didn’t say anything about it, but he had decided she had a left over couple’s spa trip that she forgot about making reservations for and decided to bring Alex along instead.

He was honestly thankful he didn’t have to be by himself. As awkward as it was to be basically naked a few feet away from your ex’s sister, it was a lot less awkward than it would’ve been if he found himself alone with a stranger that he couldn’t see properly. He needed to be aware of his surroundings to relax and it definitely helped that there were other people in the same room.

So he tried his best. He wasn’t a big fan of massages, having really conflicted feelings about being touched by strangers in general, but he tried. He imagined it was someone he knew, someone he trusted to touch him without making it uncomfortable. Basically anyone he’d hooked up with except for that cadet he hooked up with a few years into the Air Force who kept asking questions about why he had so many scars.

After the massage, they were taken to go get facials which Alex made about half-way through before he had to stop. Too much keeping his eyes closed and that was something he couldn’t do, but he thanked the woman anyway and made small talk while Isobel did the whole thing. It was actually pretty relaxing in a completely different way.

“This one is gonna be your favorite, I just know it,” Isobel insisted once the facials were over and they were headed to the next room. Alex was smiling easily for what felt like the first time in awhile. No forced smiles or no smiles that only lasted a few seconds. Isobel seemed to notice and she held her head up with pride.

They got manicures and pedicures next which had easily proved Isobel right. Part of Alex felt downright giddy about it. The last time he’d gotten a manicure and pedicure was on Maria’s 18th birthday and he barely even got to enjoy them that long. After DADT was repealed, he’d thought about going to get one, but couldn’t bring himself to go alone. But maybe he and Isobel needed to make this a regular thing.

“See, I told you you’d like it,” Isobel said.

“Thank you, Isobel, seriously,” Alex said. She smiled, shrugging a shoulder as if it wasn’t that big of a deal. But it was. He was actually relaxing for once. That meant a lot.

“Don’t mention it. Did I ever tell you about that time we went water skiing and Max broke his nose?”

It wasn’t until they went to a fancy restaurant that she had reservations at that he noticed she’d been talking a lot. Like, significantly more than usual. It wasn’t long that he caught on she was just trying to keep her mind off of real life too.

“Be honest,” Alex said halfway through their meal, “You needed today too.”

Isobel’s smile turned a bit sour and she took a deep breath. It was so distinctly Michael that it was almost jarring.

“Today would’ve been my 6th wedding anniversary,” she admitted. Alex tried to keep his reactions in check, but he couldn’t help the way he instantly felt bad that clearly no one else had known that.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, I just needed to do something to take my mind off it,” she insisted. Alex didn’t say anything, just stared at her. It most definitely wasn’t fine. “I just... I feel like I’m never going to stop missing this man I thought I knew.”

“Honestly? You probably won’t,” Alex said. Isobel scoffed.

“Well, thanks.”

“I mean, look, he was taken from you in a really horrible way. It’s not like he showed his true colors at all. You had, what, half a decade with a man who treated you well at all times and seemed to put your needs first and was kind. It makes sense for you to mourn him even if he wasn’t real,” Alex assured her.

“I hate it, though,” she admitted.

“If it helps, I didn’t even have that much with my dad and I’m still mourning him. It’s annoying and it’s frustrating, but it’s apart of life,” Alex assured her. She tilted her head.

“Alex, this day is supposed to be about comforting you,” she said playfully. He gave her a smile.

“It can be about both of us,” he said, “I tell you what, let’s make this day into something different. It’s no longer a wedding anniversary to a shitty man who lied, it’s now Isobel and Alex’s Annual Chill Day.”

Isobel laughed, “You really want to do this with me every year?”

“If you needed me to do this with you every month, I would,” Alex promised. He saw tears build in her eyes, but she blinked them away. “You’re my friend, Isobel, and one of the only people that hasn’t fucked me over. I don’t take that lightly.”

“Okay, then. Isobel and Alex’s Annual Chill Day it is,” she said, raising her glass of wine. He raised his to hers.

“Gotta love new traditions.”

And he did. That night, Isobel stayed over and he got one of the best night’s sleep he’d had in awhile. He didn’t even need a man in his bed to get it.

It helped knowing Isobel felt the same exactly way.

[yugyummygot7reactions]

Behind the Curtain - 3

| Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | Epilogue |

Updates are Sundays at 5pm PST!

Characters: Park Jinyoung x You 

Genre: Smut 

Warning(s): Blood Play, Knife/Scalpel Play

 Word Count: 2,880

One other thing you did know for sure… a trip to see the gang doctor wouldn’t be so far-fetched after taking a day off for an upset stomach.

Park Jinyoung. You’re next.

After a day of recovering uncomfortably in your room, you emerged, body almost 100% back to the way it was before. The bags under your eyes could be covered with makeup and the puffiness drained out with a water pill, it was nothing you couldn’t handle. After pulling yourself together you took a deep breath and headed straight to your next target. 

“Ah, Y/N,” He said with a quick look over his shoulder and a flash of a smile, “Youngjae told me I might be seeing you soon, he mentioned that you had quite the appetite the other day.” Jinyoung chuckled. You immediately know that he knew much more than he let on in that simple sentence. “Go ahead, strip down and take a seat on the exam table, just give me a moment to finish this file and I’ll do a once over to make sure you’re in top shape for our advisor meeting later.”

You walked past Youngjae in the hall on the way to the medical wing and he gave your body a once over with dark eyes before winking, causing your breath to hitch. You looked away quickly and decided that distancing yourself from him at this point would be better not only for your mission, but for your health.

Knocking on Jinyoung’s open exam room door you could see he was furiously writing notes in a file.

If there was one thing you had learned about Park Jinyoung in the last 2 years it was that he was always business. You had completely forgotten about the advisor meeting until he brought it up. You were too busy trying to complete your true mission. 

While Jinyoung continued to write like there was no tomorrow, you picked up the scalpel next to the exam table and began to fidget with it in your hand. The blade didn’t look nearly as sharp as any of the knives you use on missions with the gang or with your agency.

“Okay! All done!” Jinyoung suddenly exclaimed as he slammed the file shut, shocking you out of your thoughts, causing the scalpel blade to slice open the tip of your finger.

“Oh shit,” you winced as a slight trickle of blood oozed out of the finger. The pain immediately subsiding, like that of a paper cut. 

“Let me look at that,” Jinyoung said as he walked over and grabbed your hand, taking the scalpel in the process and putting it back in its place near the table. He wiped off the blood and went to grab a band aid. You noticed his eyes linger on the cut for a second longer than it should have. You dropped your guard with Youngjae, and you wouldn’t do the same with Jinyoung. 

“Nothing too deep,” He wrapped up the cut and took a look at the blade that knicked you. 

“So how are you feeling?” he asked as he gave you a once over. 

“Better today,” you said, looking him straight in the eye, “The food was so good the other night that I ate more than I could handle. It was a bit embarrassing that Youngjae saw me like that.” You wanted to seduce him, but you needed to test Jinyoung first. 

“Hmm, your appetite must have hit you later in the evening. If I remember correctly, you were sitting picking at your food, lost in thought, the entire time I was in the cafeteria.” He looked at you with a spark of curiosity.

“Youngjae convinced me to try the food, he was very kind.” It was obvious know that Jinyoung knew what happened with Youngjae.

“It seems that Youngjae is in the right position for this organization.” He said as he took your blood pressure and looked at some other basic stats. “You aren’t the first person who he has sweet talked into eating more than their fill.” He took the pressure cuff off your arm and gestured for you to open your mouth for a thermometer. “I’m just glad you both had the sense to stop when you did or things could have gotten much worse.”

Worse? You thought to yourself, how many times has Jinyoung had to help people Youngjae had done that too? It was then you remembered Youngjae’s words, ‘We don’t want you popping now do we.’

The thought of someone actually popping made you shudder. 

“Are you cold?” Jinyoung asked, checking the thermometer, “You don’t have a fever.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know where that shiver came from.”

Jinyoung nodded and put the thermometer away. 

“Everything seems to be okay now, just drink plenty of water and go easy on the portions to help your stomach. Sound good?” Jinyoung made notes in your file and smiled at you. There was something behind the smile you couldn’t quite place.

You nodded in agreement even though it would be a while before you wanted to drink a lot of water. After a few moments of awkward silence, you thanked Jinyoung as you went to stand up and leave.  Maybe you’d have to try again another day.

A hand stopped you from climbing off the table.

“Do you trust me, Y/N?” Jinyoung asked, a serious and dark look behind his eyes. 

You remembered being asked this question before and you almost regretted saying yes.

“In the field…yes.” You answered hesitantly, “On a personal level…no.” You had to be honest. The look in his eyes concerned you and you couldn’t afford to lose any more days because of a hidden debilitating kink.

“That might be the smartest answer I’ve ever heard.” He said as he picked up the scalpel and twirled it in his fingers, moving behind you, “such a smart woman,” He whispered close to your ear.

He ran one hand through your hair as he continued to finger the blood coated blade. You were vulnerable and you knew that, your back was turned to him and yet you didn’t care; You could leave at any time and much to Jinyoung’s amusement, you were choosing to stay.

“Trust is a fickle thing,” he said, brown eyes sparkling, “It is complex,” He began to drag the back of blade upwards, on the back of your neck, feeling the anxiety radiate out of you, “and fragile.” He removed the blade from your skin, causing goosebumps to form where the blade had just grazed. 

Jinyoung circled around to face you and gently placed the blade’s edge along your cheek bone; You inhaled and braced yourself, waiting expectantly for the slow drag.

Instead, you felt Jinyoung’s other hand cup your chin, he was looking you straight in the eyes. 

“You have a very high tolerance darling.” He laughed before licking the blade clean of your blood. It was then that you noticed the room was a little fuzzy and your limbs felt heavier than they should be. 

Jinyoung watched the realization travel across your face, seeing the array of emotions. Fear, doubt, stubbornness, desire, confusion. The sheen of sweat quickly forming on your body.

“There we go,” Jinyoung chuckled as he grabbed your hand. “You were smart to not totally trust me.” He gestured to the band aid. “You let Youngjae live out his fantasies, I want you to do the same for me.” He removed the blade from your cheek and kissed the spot where it once was. “Don’t worry, you’ll be awake. You just won’t feel as much.” He laughed as he leaned you back on the exam table. “Can you move?” 

You tried to wiggle your fingers and soon realized that they were barely twitching. 

“Damn,” He said under his breath, “It was a bit too much.” He walked over to the file he was writing in when you arrived, “I should have taken in to account you were weakened from your time with Youngjae.”

He wandered the room for a moment before grabbing a small bottle out of a cabinet. He opened your mouth and put a couple drops of the solution on your tongue. “Sit up when you can, darling. We can’t have you fully incapacitated for this. That ruins the fun.” 

After a few moments the bitter taste dissolved, and you were able to sit up again. 

Jinyoung walked up to you, blade in hand and sliced a thin line across your collar bone, the blood slowly leaking out in drops down your chest. You winced. You felt it, but it wasn’t nearly as painful as when you cut your finger earlier.

“Perfect,” Jinyoung said as he leaned down and slowly licked the blood dripping out of the wound. 

You moaned at the sensation. You never thought something so terrifying would be so erotic. 

Salivating, Jinyoung pressed the blade harder into your flesh, making the cut a bit deeper, causing the blood to flow more steadily.

Your heart was racing, and you felt an aching begin building in your core.

“Your body trusts me, Y/N,” Jinyoung said as he licked your blood off of his lips, voice was thick with control and arousal, his gaze drifting farther down your chest, “It’s your mind,” He licked another stripe of blood off of your skin, “Your exquisitely complicated, marvelous mind that doesn’t trust me.” He set the blade down, hovering over you.

You felt warm lips suck gently on the cut on your collarbone, the blood slowly being pulled out, and your knees turned to jelly as Jinyoung’s tongue traced the veins that showed on your skin.

He pulled himself on to you, pinching at a nipple and grazing his teeth along your collar bone, nipping and suckling as he went, wanting to taste and worship every inch of you.

You felt Jinyoung’s clothes scratch against your bare skin. You timidly lifted your hands and let them move over Jinyoung’s broad shoulders, the strong lines of his biceps, and delicate pattern of his ribs. This man was a strikingly powerful, elegant, and deadly machine.

Jinyoung suddenly pulled your head back by your hair, pulling the rest of his body off of you, leaving you panting at the loss of his touch. Jinyoung watched your actions, hungrily drinking in the sight before him. His hands moved to explore your body, scalpel still in hand. 

He explored your chest, fingers brushing over your hard nipples, back to the cut that was already starting to close, chuckling darkly as you fought to catch your breath. 

His hands ventured lower on your body and he made a small slit on your inner thigh. You twitched in pain and desire as Jinyoung began to slowly finger your folds. You moan louder than you expected, drunk with the long awaited pleasure of contact.

Before you knew it you were lost in sensation. Your hips thrusting upward onto Jinyoung’s fingers, your mind wondering if the taste of blood...your blood...would flip some sort of murderous switch in Jinyoung’s brain. You knew he could conduct some heartless experiments. Is that what you were to him right now?

Your heart then became frantically chaotic as Jinyoung moved away from you and walked to the other side of the room.

“Open your legs, feet flat. Arms above your head,” Jinyoung’s commands sent electricity radiating from your core. You were scared in the best way. You wanted to complete your mission, but if this was how it all ended you wouldn’t be that upset. 

Jinyoung returned with far less clothes than before and knelt between your knees, running his hands down your sides, playfully lifting your hips, and licking a stripe up from the incision he made earlier.

You felt a finger back at your hole, rhythmically pulsing. A second was quickly added.

You could smell Jinyoung’s cologne as the air in the room kicked on, also sending a shiver down your spine.

Three fingers now.

Your legs began to tremble. Your hips rocking steadily against Jinyoung’s fingers, the feeling of his lips sucking on your open cut pushing you towards your release.

Just as you were about to reach climax, Jinyoung removed his fingers, marveling at his work. He leaned down to your thigh, biting down hard on the sensitive bit of flesh he had already cut into. You cried out beneath him, one arm reflexively moving to stop the pain. Jinyoung caught your arm and roughly pinned it back in place. He pulled his head up and you could see a bruise already forming around the cut, a very clear bite mark that would be there for days.

You yelped and tried to pull back from Jinyoung, You knew your answer already and you could back out now and be fine, but he pinned your legs and held you in place.

“Shhhh, just clear your mind, darling. Surrender to me.” 

His voice was like that of a Siren. You knew you should stay away, but you only want to go closer. You relax under his grip as he massages your legs.

“Good.” He whispered, his hand easing the pressure ever so slightly. His own body quaking at the effort to remain still. “Now, tell me what you want.”

You wanted to run, to get back to your room, to live, but you also wanted Jinyoung. You wanted to feel him inside of you. To see what he could do.

“Fuck me.” You answered, tilting your had to look him straight in the eye. “Fucking destroy me.”

With that, Jinyoung relinquished his hold on your legs, putting a condom over his throbbing cock before moving both hands to your hips with an unmerciful grip, and thrust himself completely into you.

You took a deep breath just before crying out as Jinyoung’s thrusting hips gained speed. His balls slapped against your ass, and the lewd, wet sounds echoed on the tiled walls and floor. 

You felt the tall man crawl over you, almost possessively; one hand grabbing your wrists, the other reaching for his blade yet again. 

Jinyoung’s strokes repeatedly pressed against the bundle of nerves at your core, making you see stars.

Jinyoung began to shudder, his movements more erratic, causing you to mewl in excitement, his name slipping from your lips. He swiped the blade along your wrist and began licking and sucking at the blood, the taste pushing him towards his end.

He pulled back and silenced your moans with a fierce kiss, the metallic taste of your own blood turning you on even more.

The taste of your blood on his lips combined with Jinyoung’s rough thrusts finally tipped you over the edge.

In shock, you reflexively bit down on his lip, drawing blood, sucking his lip into your mouth, tasting his blood mixed with yours.

Jinyoung’s hips stuttered, coming with a deep growl against your warm walls. He immediately pulled out of you and walked across the room to dispose of the rubber barrier.

Jinyoung put his pants on and straightened his hair, all before you even had the chance to process what just happened. He quickly turned away.

“If you wouldn’t mind getting dressed, I have another appointment.” He cleared his throat and grabbed from files from his desk before seeing you stuck like a deer in headlights. “NOW!” he yelled, shocking you into movement. 

You quickly changed and practically ran out the door, slamming into someone who had been waiting patiently outside, knocking him over.

“Bam?” You asked, shocked that your closest friend in the gang was here. 

“Hey Y/N.” He smiled, “Feeling better?” 

You were shocked he was here, he looked fine. 

“Yeah, Jinyoung just checked my vitals and did some blood work. Good as new!” You laughed in your head about just how true the bloodwork comment was. “What are you doing here? Did you catch something too?”

“Ahh” Bam looked down, embarrassed, “I was working on a new poison yesterday and I might have accidentally infected myself with it.” You looked at him dumbfounded. This was unfortunately not the first time this has happened. “This is why you can’t get sick, I need you in the lab to save me.” He smiled before assuring you that the antidote was administered and that he was just here to make sure the toxin was fully gone. 

You patted him on the shoulder, wished him good luck, and told him you’d see him later. 

You walked back to your room to clean up before the advisor meeting. You couldn’t go looking like you had just fucked one of the seven leaders.

During your down time, you began planning your message to the agency, letting them know in code who was able to be saved. So far only Mark was on that list. You hoped in the end he wouldn’t be the only one. You went into this thinking that all 7 of them could be saved, only to have that dream shattered on day two. You never would have thought Mr. Sunshine himself and the man who has saved the lives of dozens during gang wars would be so far gone that they can’t be saved. Would your closest ally be as dark as they were? 

The alarm on your desk let you know you had 5 minutes to attend the meeting. You gathered up your items and headed out. Your hidden agenda would have to wait until after this stupid meeting was over.

_______________________________________________________________________

Hello My Lovelies!!

Did you enjoy fun time with Jinyoung? I certainly enjoyed writing this chapter. Next up is Bam. What do we think about him? Can he be saved? 

Let me know!!

~LoLo

[lettersofwrittencollective]

Confessions

Author: @lettersofwrittencollective​​

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1797

Prompt: You’ve shown me what love can feel like. - from @nicole-lynne​ 350 follower challenge!!

Summary: When Dean finds some stitches on you, it leads to yelling and storming and then confessing. 

Masterlist || Supernatural Masterlist

Finishing up the stitching on your lower back, you used your teeth to cut the thread.

Weeks and weeks of fighting alongside the Winchesters will soon be coming to an end. The vamp nest you’d tried to take out at the beginning of this had been older than you’d realized and there’d been more than you’d ever expected. 

When they’d fled, a few of the leaders had managed to get out and they’d taken off to different parts of the country, leaving the three of you on a chase around town. 

During that time, you’d managed to get closer to the boys - sharing motel room after motel room had that effect. But through it all - you had managed to get closer to Dean. 

Which was frustrating, to say the least. 

Not because there was anything wrong with Dean but because you found yourself falling for the green-eyed man all over again. 

The first time you had met the Winchesters, you had only met Dean. You were 21 and he was 22. You’d lost a friend to werewolves and that was how you had been introduced to the supernatural. 

Dean and his dad had tried to pull some kind of FBI-thing but Dean had been a lot sweeter than his dad and as they worked the case, you found yourself talking to him more and more. 

After they’d left you and Dean had stayed in touch. A couple of times, he had been nearby or driving through and the two of you would meet up and grab some burgers and pie. This occasionally led to sleeping together. 

Dean would call you on occasion, just to talk he said, and he would always ask you to tell him about happy things. About good things going on in your life. But usually,  after these, he would go missing for weeks on end. 

It wasn’t until a few years later after you’d started hunting yourself that you realized that those calls were likely when a hunt had gone wrong.

Dean hadn’t been too happy when he learned you’d started hunting. 

In fact, the two of you had screamed at each other, back and forth for hours and he’d left in such a huff that you’d thought you weren’t going to see him again.

You’d heard stories about what Dean and Sam had gotten up to. About the yellow-eyed demon and the angels and leviathans and all the other things. You’d met up a couple of times, here and there to help each other out with a hunt but it seemed that things between you and Dean were always just a little off. 

You’d actually been surprised when he’d called for this last hunt. But you’d jumped in your Camaro and driven all night and day to get clear across the country and the three of you had quickly moved about the hunt. 

Now just the one bastard remained. 

Sam was pretty sure he knew where it was and you’d all be heading out in the morning but for now, it was a matter of just getting a couple hours of rest and then heading back out.

Currently, Sam was showering and Dean was on a food run. You hadn’t told either one about your popped stitch but it wasn’t like you hadn’t stitched yourself up before and you weren’t about to shy away from it now. 

Just as you finished tying up the thread, the door opened and you turned to see Dean walking in. 

“Shit Sorry Y/N!” he called out when he realized you were shirtless. 

“Relax De,” you muttered as you pulled up a towel to cover your chest and turned so that he would be staring mostly at your back. 

What you didn’t take into account, however, was Dean seeing the fresh stitches. 

“What the hell is that?!” came the angry shout as you hear. 

Turning, you find that he’s dropped the chow bags onto one of the beds but you barely have time to register it as his arms are on yours and he’s turning you back around, his hands coming to the cut on your back, sending shivers down your spine. 

“Y/N… Sweetheart,” he grits out, “How did that happen?”

“De,” you mutter, you already know that he’s going to try and force it and you’ll give in, eventually, but your pride won’t let you give in immediately, “It’s nothing.”

“That’s not what I asked,” he reminded you and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. 

The sound of another door opening and you turned to see Sammy walking out of the shower, towel slung low on his hips. He looked between the two of you.  You could feel Dean’s eyes turning and glaring into you, again, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the taller hunter.  

“Guys?” Sam asks and you can see the confusion on his face.

You open your mouth to tell him that his brother is being ridiculous only for Dean to cut you off with a harsh, “Not now Sammy. Y/N here’s been hiding somethin from us.”

You couldn’t help but scoffing and crossed your arms as you turned to glare at him, “I wonder why I’d do that?! Maybe because I knew you’d blow this out of proportion. It’s just a set of stitches Dean, it’s not like I’m bleeding out!”

“No, but you had been!” the green-eyed hunter practically roared at you. 

Groaning, you stalked across the room and grabbed the first shirt you came across and shrugged it on as you moved to leave the room. 

Dean moved to step in front of you and you raised an eyebrow at him, daring him to try and stop you. 

The two of you stared at each other for a moment, and you could see Dean’s mind moving a hundred miles an hour. You’re saved by Sam calling his name, distracting him just long enough for you to dart past him and out of the motel room. 

Making your way to your car, you quickly realized that you didn’t have your damn keys on you. They were still in your jacket pocket. The jacket that was currently thrown on the bed in the room. 

Huffing, you rolled up the sleeves of the shirt you were currently wearing, catching a whiff of the cologne and, instantly, you could feel yourself relax. 

It was Dean’s cologne. 

You’d been with him the first time he’d picked up this particular cologne. The two of you had picked out scents for the other one on a silly dare. The two of you had gotten each other something - he’d picked out something for you that had smelled like apples and water lilies, It had actually become one of your favorite scents and you had mostly worn it when you knew you’d see Dean but occasionally for a date or just to remind yourself of him. 

But this one, this one was highly distinctive, citrus-fresh with grapefruit, and a hint of mint and cedar. It had reminded you of a lazy morning, post-sex Dean in all the best possible ways and you had actually gone back to pick up a smaller bottle of it after he’d left.

Taking a look at the shirt you were wearing, you realized that the shirt you’d grabbed had been one of Dean’s flannels. It was actually one of your favorite ones 

This one was a simple red and black one but it always made your mouth water when you would see him in it. Though to be fair, it wasn’t very difficult to get your mouth to water when it came to him. But this one… you’re not sure what it was about this one but it was definitely worth every last moment of it. 

Pulling the flannel tighter against you, you moved to sit on the hood of your Camaro. 

Watching the cars driving by, it wasn’t long before you heard the motel doors open and you knew that Dean was making his way out. When he made it to the car, you scooted over slightly and motioned for him to sit down. 

He began to say your name but you shook your head, “Just trust me for a minute, alright?”

“I always trust you,” he pointed out and you couldn’t help but chuckle as you shook your head. 

“Alright then, humor me.”

You watched him nod his head before he moved so that he was sitting next to you on the hood. 

“It was about two vamps ago,” you told him. You could feel him stiffen beside you and you didn’t blame him, that particular vamp had been particularly nasty. Quickly moving on, trying to reassure him, you told him, “Don’t worry it wasn’t the vamp itself. Remember when we chased after him and got separated near the harbor?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Dean nod his head. Scotting closer to him, the two of you found yourselves in your second favorite position, with you tucked up next to him, head on his shoulder and you let out a chuckle, “Well turns out my balance was crap that day. I managed to fall and got caught on some of the barbed wire, it tore up the skin pretty bad but one of the barbs decided it wanted to really dig in. By the time I was able to get out of it, I managed to find you and Sam fighting the damned bastards and ended up splattered in blood. 

We got back to the motel and since I had called the first shower and you two were basically dead tired, I was able to clean it up and patch it up.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked and you could hear the hurt in his voice. 

“Oh De,” you whispered, before pulling away from his shoulder only to turn your body to face him, “I didn’t want you to worry. You get so… overbearingly protective when you think I’m not at my peak and we still had three move vamps to go- I didn’t want you worrying about me.”

Green eyes met yours and you saw something in them… something you knew was reflected in your own. 

The thing with Dean was that… He’d taught you what love felt like and you knew that no matter where you went or who you met, no one would ever compare to Dean. 

Before you’d even realized it, you could feel his lips on yours and it felt like you could finally breathe.

Fisting your hands in his shirt and tugging him towards you, you can feel him move you and pulling away slightly, you find that you’re in his lap. 

“I need you stay safe,” he whispers against your temple before he leaned back in to kiss you again. 

Returning the kiss, the two of you found yourselves getting lost in each other. The sound of a honking car pulling the two of you apart from each other. 

Chuckling you tucked your head into the crook of Dean’s neck in embarrassment. “I am safe,” you remind him, “Whenever you’re with me… I know I’m safe.” You know he’s going to try and argue with you so you lean in and kiss his jawline, “I mean it De… Even when the world is falling apart, I know that if I can get to you then I’ll be safe.”

The two of you sat there for a few hours after. Though you didn’t share any words you could feel things between the two of you shift again and you were looking forward to where it was that this would lead to.

-

Masterlist || Supernatural Masterlist

-

A/N: Guys give me some grace here... I haven’t had a chance to really get into Dean lately (life got super hectic) I may come back and re-do this...

Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24​ @nicole-lynne​  @mummybear​  @emichelle​  @genius2050​  @suhoey​ @fullangelimagines​ @xceafh​ @stilessarcasmqueen​

SPN Taglist: @fandom-princess-forevermore​ @redsalv20​  @michellebarista​

Do not copy and paste my writing anywhere without my consent. This work is the property of lettersofwrittencollective . Associated characters belong to Warner Bros. Television and are being borrowed for this work, all OC’s are the property of lettersofwrittencollective. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author/publisher.

Posted 27 April 2020

[pathetic-has-been-rockstar]

The bonfire surprise

Pairing: Crowley x reader

Written for: @spnchristmasbingo​

Square/s filled: Chestnuts; Sitting by the fire

Warnings: none

Summary: still set to enjoy every bit of winter and holiday traditions, you decide to bring Jack to pick up chestnuts. Crowley joins you on the most innocuous hunt of the year, bringing Juliet along to spice things up. Roasting chestnuts on Hellfire never looked so good.

Words: 3091

Beta: @raspberrymama​ (I’ll never say this enough: check out her works!)

this piece can be found on AO3, here! If you’re interested in the whole series, you just have to click here!

“So... are you coming or not?”

Crowley tilts his head a bit, then nods, looking at you. “You know... yes. Since we've been consistently saving this world, it would be nice to take a walk in it.”

You were surprised when he decided to stick around for Christmas, or at least until the brothers don't actively start to try and kill him. He declared he enjoys the mayhem he can create frustrating Christmas' plans, but you suspect that he's probably just bored by his temporary lack of employment. You give him a small nod.

“Precisely what I was thinking.”

“Great. Now... aren't you forgetting something?”

You run a quick mind inventory, but nothing seems to be missing. “... like what?”

“Like the kid?” Crowley suggests, falsely helpful.

“... oh, no. Jack's in the car from like ten minutes. He can't wait to go.”

Crowley sighs dramatically. “Oh, to be young and eager again. Is it far?”

“About twenty minutes from here... why don't you come with us? You can try and crush Jack's optimism while we go.”

“I can do it on site. I've got someone to pick up, if it's all the same to you.”

“Oh... sure. Of course.” You are slightly curious and, even if you would never admit it, slightly disappointed. You were hoping for some time with Crowley, but he seems to have framed the occasion like a good chance to do... well, anything else.

“Fantastic. I'll see you there.”

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Yes, Jack?”, you answer after a second, emerging from your thoughts.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes. Why?”

“You are just very quiet.”

“I'm just... a bit tired, you know.” Of course you were quiet. You're dying to see who was so important that had to be picked up and brought to what feels like a family thing.

“Sure. So... how's it gonna be?”

Surprised, you throw a side glance at Jack. The kid is smart. “As it's always been, I guess. Why?”

“I've never picked up chestnuts.”

Of course. Of course it was about the chestnuts. You stammer a moment, trying to collect yourself. “Oh, it's fun, actually. You just have to watch out for the shells, actually. They're spikey, y'know. You put on your gloves, then we pick them up from the ground,and  check if there are holes in them. If they're whole we can put them in the baskets.”

“What if there's a hole?”

“Well, that means there's a worm inside. It's not a problem if you accidentally eat it, since it's basically lived inside the thing its whole life and it tastes like that, but... let's just try and avoid it, ok?”

“Sure. No point in killing it just because it's in the wrong place at the right moment.”

You smile, surprised by the tenderness of his heart. The whole argument about his nature before he was born it feels incredibly stupid, now. The kid doesn't even want to kill a worm.

“Precisely. Besides, it might mean that the thing is rotting, and we don't want to deal with the consequences of eating spoilt food. Why don't you put on some music?”

Jack literally beams at the idea. “Can I connect my phone?”

“Sure thing, kid. We have about half an hour to go, connect the Bluetooth and jam away.”

The rest of the ride consists mainly in Jack humming Christmas songs and weird covers of them, while you keep your eyes on the road and occasionally sing along with him.

Once you get there, you immediately spot Crowley. Seeing that he's alone, you tilt your head.

“Weren't you supposed to pick up someone?”

“I did.”

He whistles, and a second later two hellhounds appear next to him, wagging their tails. He smiles at you, clearly satisfied by your surprised expression.

“I'm confident you remember Juliet and Banquo.”

“I do. How... how can I see them?”

“Because I let you.”

“... oh. Thanks, I guess.”

Crowley hints at them with a swift nod. “Go ahead, touch them. I know you'd like to.”

Trying to play it cool, you kneel down and pat the head of Juliet. A second later, Banquo is rubbing his head against your arm, almost throwing you off balance. Crowley immediately notices.

“Banquo. Settle down, boy.”

The hound whimpers and draws back, immediately obeying Crowley, who gives you a satisfied look.

“I trained them myself.”

“I figured that much.” you fire back. Like anyone else could train those hounds to act like that.

You're distracted by Jack calling you. You turn and you see the bundle of scarf, hat and oversized sport coat wandering among the trees and picking up the burrs, only to let them fall again as soon as they sting him. Crowley raises an eyebrow, amused.

“Looks like the most powerful being in existence needs help with picking up some fruit from the ground.”

“... he's three years old.”

“They grow so fast, don't they?”

You turn your back to Crowley and walk to Jack. Juliet and Banquo run around, sniffing the leaves and acting mostly like normal dogs. You notice that, and turn to Crowley, who's been casually waddling around, following you and Jack.

“Why are they like these?”

“What do you mean?”

“They act like normal dogs.”

“They like topside.”

“Don't they have souls to collect, today?”

“They always do.” Crowley replies with a casual scroll of his shoulders.

“Then why are they here?”

“There are other hounds, you know. These two were just the most affectionate to me. In short, useless to dear mother, and very useful for my personal security.”

Of course, you don't know why they're there. You're not a hunter, after all, not in the truest meaning of the word. You've been dragged in there when you ran into Bobby, years earlier, trying to nick a book from your shop. You gave him the book in exchange for some explanations, and it turned out your years of eccentric reading made you pretty useful.

Bobby then started to call you for lore-related things, and it was only a matter of time before the hunters started to use your shop as a sort of base. You started to store magical items, too, and even faced a few monsters on your own. Not exactly your cup of tea, but fun. Crowley knows about this all, obviously. Everyone knows about it. His dogs are there because you are there. The idea of a human dear both to the king of Hell and the future God might inspire some unpleasant thoughts in rogue demons and monsters, so he doesn't want to take any unnecessary risk.

You only see the hounds sprinting away, running after a very lucky squirrel. The little rodent manages to climb up the bark of the chestnut tree just in time, escaping the fangs of the hellish beasts for a split hair. Crowley giggles happily next to you, apparently delighted.

“The dislike for squirrels must run in the family.”

“Yeah... Jack, honey, wait, no.”

Jack has started to climb on the tree, trying to reach the lowest branches, that are still a good seven feet above the ground. He really is a three years old sometimes, but you keep forgetting that. When he falls back on you, you are painfully reminded that he is a three years old in a fully adult body.

Before Jack can do it, Crowley helps you up, smirking.

“Everything fine, love?”

“Yeah, peachy.”

He chuckles and takes a dried leaf off your hair, then gives you an amused smile.

“Looks like you're enjoying yourselves, at least.”

Jack enthusiastically answers for you, then dashes away to inspect a new patch of dried leaves and fallen burrs. When climbing up the trees is finally off the table, you three keep walking in the woods and picking up chestnuts here and there until the baskets are full. You look at your clock, starting to feel the cold seeping through your clothes.

“We still have a couple of hours of good light left. Let's go back to the car, we'll make a fire there.”

“... a fire? What for?”

“Well, we... you know what? It's a surprise. Come on, let's go back.”

Jack smiles in excitement, then slows down, looking at you and Crowley. You walk closer than you did earlier, and you don't even seem to notice how the back of your hands touch while you walk. He's seen Dean and Castiel subconsciously trying to get closer just like that. He might be young, but he's learnt quite a lot about love and longing, and he's quite sure that he has a fine example of both lying right in front of him. He also has an idea about how to make that happen, even if he will have to wait until you return to the bunker.

When the three of you make it back to the clearing where you parked the car, you start looking around for some logs and branches to set the fire. You have some water and a couple of old newspapers in the car, so safety and the ignition are accounted for. You're still scouring the clearing through the growing darkness when Crowley clears his throat. You turn to him, expecting him to mock you for not having figured it before.

“... what?”

“I assume you're looking for something to start the fire.”

“Well, duh.”

He scoffs, not taking seriously your remark, and raises his hand, “Perhaps I could be of assistance. You know... hellfire and all that.”

“Oh, I... I didn't think of it.”

“I figured that much”, he echoes the words you spat at him earlier in a much gentler tone. You almost feel bad for treating him harshly, but you just can't help it. There's something about him and the way he treats you that makes you feel... uneasy, for some reason.

Crowley knows you well, by now, but he still hasn't found a way to unravel you completely. He was content when you sought him out in your sleep. You slipped through the sheets and held him, just like you did a few years ago, and you seemed pretty happy about it. You wanted to be close to him... and yet you seem very bothered by his presence, at times. Of course, this only makes him all the more curious to find out the key to decipher your weirdness. He doesn't like pending business, and you certainly are acting like one.

With a snap of his fingers, a bright fire starts burning a few yards away from the car, complete with a few logs to sit around it, and you look at it, fascinated like a child. Juliet and Banquo immediately recognize the nature of the flames, and go to quietly lie down next to them.

You start laughing and walk to the car, taking the castiron skillet and a couple of knives.

“What, no knife for me?”

You jump, surprised. He's definitely closer than where you left him, and you didn't hear him approach.

“Stop moving so quietly! I'll tie a bell around your neck.”

“Oooh, my own collar? Kinky. I might like that.”

You thank the darkness and the dancing lights cast by the open flames for hiding the redness creeping up your cheeks. You grab a third knife, flip it and offer the handle to Crowley.

“You know how to do it, right?”

“Love, I am a demon, not a moron.”

“Eh. Sometimes you can be both.”

He rolls his eyes, only mildly annoyed. “Care to make an example or do I have to take your insults at face value?”

You would like to answer, but your throat closes. The thought of that day in the Apocalypse world is etched in your mind, and you don't like to think about it. Luckily, you catch Jack getting close to the hounds with the clear intention of petting them, so you're spared from answering. You dash to him, worried.

“Jack, don't!”

Jack immediately takes a step back and looks at you, confused. “But they look so cute!”

“Yeah, but those are not fluffy animals. Those are killing machines, and...”

“And they're trained to behave around people who mean no harm to me. Go ahead, boy. They like scratches on their heads.” Crowley encourages Jack.

You survey carefully the scene, ready to spring into action, but Crowley was telling the truth. A minute later, Jack is sitting on the ground, scratching Juliet's head with a hand, and patting Banquo with the other, looking happier than ever.

“You think Dean will let us keep on in the bunker?”

You think about it for a second. There's not a strong enough word in any human language to express the way Dean would refuse the idea of a hellhound loose in the bunker. Hearing Crowley chuckle next to you, you're sure that he's thinking the exact same thing.

“I... I don't think so, Jack.” Jack nods, trusting your judgement, and looks at you.

“Right. So... what do I do with the knife?”

You sit down on the log next to his one and teach him how to lightly carve the smooth shell of the fruit with a X, so that it doesn't swell and bash while it cooks. When you prepare enough for the three of you, you pour them in the pan and set it on the fire, shaking it from time to time to ensure an even cooking.

Jack notices that your movements are steady, and studies you for a moment. “So... is it a Christmas tradition?”

“It’s more of a winter thing, not just Christmas,” you answer, “I used to go picking chestnuts with my grandfather, from November through December. Then we would cook them on this big open fire in the backyard of his country house. Not a fancy one, though. He was a farmer, so it was one of those old houses full of tools and handmade stuff. I really liked that place.”

“I bet it was amazing.”

You think about it for a moment. “You know what? It really was. And they kept loads of animals, too. He and my grandma would do everything at home, from scratch.”

You start telling Jack things you've never told anyone since you moved and started your new life. Meanwhile, you keep your eyes on the chestnuts, taking them out of fire when they're done.

You pick some pages from the old newspapers and roll three cones, then pour the hot roasted fruit in them. You offer one to Jack, and one to Crowley, who looks surprised.

“... for me?”

“Yes. I know you don't eat, but...”

He takes the cone from your hands, smiling.

“I still like the taste. Thanks, love. Very thoughtful of you.”

“Shut up”, you mutter, but you're smiling.

Jack encourages you to tell more stories about your family, and you hear the crunching noises coming from him slowing down progressively. When you look at him again, on the other side of the flames, you see him dozing off, still nestled between Juliet and Banquo.

You smile and throw your paper cone filled with discarded skins in the fire, watching it crackle, then reach out, trying to warm your hands. The air is cold, and it's totally dark around you, despite being only four p.m. You think about what you just told Jack, and a sting of nostalgia catches you by surprise.

You quickly blink a couple of times, hoping to chase those unexpected tears away, but you feel a hand on your shoulder.

“Are you alright, kitten?”

You almost forgot about Crowley. Surprisingly, he didn’t say anything while you were telling your stories to Jack, but you don’t suspect he listened to every word you said. “I... yes. Just... I haven't thought about those things for a very long time. I... I'm just being stupid.”

“Oh, love. Don't. Actually, you made me remember a few things about my winters as a human.”

“... really?” You think you couldn't be more surprised, but you're wrong. Your amazement hits its peak when Crowley starts telling you about old Scottish traditions, and his experiences with them.

After a few minutes of chatting, you shiver, and inch closer to him. He doesn't move away, instead he wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“I suspect you like me just as a heather, love” he purrs right beside your ear.

“Who says I like you?”

You both laugh and stay quiet, enjoying the cold air, the warmth of the fire and the smell of smoke and roasted chestnuts filling the air for a while. You close your eyes for a moment, laying your head back on his shoulder. His cologne and the hint of sulphur hidden behind it always made you feel safe, and now that things are so different from what they were, you aren't even plagued by the question anymore. The ever-present question of what was going to come next, what was going to happen... how you’d lose him.

You sigh and open your eyes, looking at Jack, then move away from Crowley.

“You know... we should go back. It's dark, and I'm sure they're wondering where we are.”

“... I'll bring back the puppies and see you there, if it's fine with you.”

“It... it is. More than fine, actually.”

He brushes your hand, and you feel his warmth through your glove, then look at him while he speaks.

“Thanks for sharing those memories, love. I know they were for the kid, but... it was nice to hear them.”

“Actually… I'm glad you were here.”

For a moment, both of you stay still. You feel your heart beating faster when you look at him. The way the fire underlines his features, the sheer intensity of his gaze force you to shiver, despite being comfortable and warm. Crowley looks at you and can’t hold back a smile. It might be the moment he was waiting for.

Instead, suddenly panicking, you stand up quickly, feeling your usual shield going up again. You can't be too vulnerable around him, after all. And Jack… you must bring him back. You didn’t come all that way just to get all lovey-dovey with the former king of Hell. “Well, I'll see you back at the bunker.”

“Right. See you there.” Crowley mutters through his teeth and notices the sudden shift in your behaviour. He wonders if his efforts still make sense. Then, he watches you waking up Jack and talking softly to him, petting the hounds and making sure everything is fine, and he knows he just has to be a bit more patient.

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