#I have 'whY did you drOP out of yALE' stuck in my head

[fbfh]

BABES AFTER THAT ABSOLUTELY GORGEOUS TRISTAN CONTENT WE NEED SOMEJESS MARIANO PLS PLS PLS

(ps. v proud of u and ur work is awesome ily <333)

YOU ARE SO REAL FOR THIS. Jess is... fun. He takes after Luke in the sense that he will adamantly insist he doesn't like you while simultaneously getting excited every time you come through the doors to Luke's and making sure he's the one to serve you just for those few moments of sarcastic banter. of course that doesn't last long, he starts thinking about you more, craving your presance. he'll start bumping into you around town, dragging out both your errands so you can pretend you're not flirting with each other. Luke clocks that shit immediatley. Jess shows back up just past curfew and Luke hits him with the "So, who is it?" Jess will deny deny deny until Luke either pieces it together or Jess accidentlly lets something slip and honestly they'll both probably refuse to talk about it again until you and Jess are literally dating because they're emotionally constipated idiots (affectionate). The other fun thing about Jess is that the longer he likes you the more comfortable he gets, and the more comfortable he gets the more shameless his flirting and obvious his crush on you becomes. over the course of a month he'll go from small talk when you bump into each other at the corner store to charming his way into splitting fries with you while you talk way past closing. and probably drink way too much coffee. Jess inhereted Luke's amazing coffee making gene, so honestly he's husband material for that alone. cuff this motherfucker before someone else does. he's so totally the type to love having your attention and give you all of his, but it's in a more quiet sturdy way. Jess is really smart, and a lot of the things he does are really subtle and understated, so every time you pick up on something it makes him feel so goddamn seen and it's a feeling he keeps chasing with you. he wants to get closer. he wants someone (you) to know everything about him, to know his favorites and secrets and every opinion on every book he's read and why he feels that way. he wants to know you, and be known.

[frazzledsoul]

12, 17, 34

Favorite Literati scene?

WHY did you DROP OUT of YALE? Forever iconic.

This is also a close runner up. Why did they have to be so cute?

Oh, and I'm not sure if this counts, but also this one

I think it's the quasi fucked up context behind that AYITL scene that appeals to me. The lighting is so, so gorgeous and so warm and resplendent. It's such a a homey scene, but you have all these different factors. Rory, excited about her work for the first time in forever: the implication that she and Jess are talking about it offscreen: Jess, beginning to catch sexy stepcousin feels but trying to subdue them, and Luke who has never looked so paternal or so HAWT, who is maybe a little too supportive of his soon to be stepdaughter and his nephew getting it on in the near future. It's that scene that made me feel "yes, I want to see more of this circus and the implied future these two have." Hope springs eternal, I guess. It worked out in my head, at least.

Favorite reference?

I love that both Jess was obsessed with Hemingway and that Logan also regales Rory with Hemingway lore on their early dates. Rory, hon, you're always going to be stuck with that one.

The implication that Jess is a Coldplay Stan is also a nice touch. I think about that. What other cheesy and sentimental pop acts is he into? (Don't say Taylor Swift, y'all).

And of course the cultural reference that drove me crazy because how inane it is: why does Lorelai think Outlander is about teenage moms? Did ASP ever know what any of her cultural references meant?

Favorite crackship?

I am one hundred percent convinced that Jess Mariano was banging a post rescue-Natalie Scattorcio on and off during the time he was back in NYC. You cannot look at this girl and not tell me he wouldn't have been into her.

They would have been terrible for each other, but she's just the kind of girl who would have accepted him for who he was until he decided it was time to change.

Also I'm not sure how it would happen, but I'm fairly certain Slutty Philadelphia Jess and Brooke Davis from One Tree Hill would have had a nice fling. Forget about Alt Tristan for a bit, Brooke.

[moonylantsovs]

Not Planned [ B.B ]

summary: You and Octavia are roommates and Octavia has developed a crush on you that you're completely oblivious to. It gets quite awkward when her older brother comes to spend the winter holidays with you and you can't help but feel like you already met him.

pairings: bellamy blake x reader, slight octavia blake x reader

warnings: mentions of smut, kinda angsty, awkwardness to the maximum

Octavia Blake was drinking coffee in your shared kitchen when you finally came home in the morning. That's how every Saturday morning went, she got up and made you coffee while you were coming back from your Friday night hook up. She wasn't surprised to see you wearing a sour expression as you dropped your bag on the kitchen counter with a sigh of disappointment. That's how you've been arriving home for more then a month. After you had a one night stand with a mystery guy you've yet to share any information about to Octavia. Well except for the fact that he was great in bed.

That great that no one has been able to get you off since the night he took you in the bathroom of a club outside of town after you spent two hours talking. You didn't know why, but you felt some sort of connection with him and by the looks he gave you, you were sure he felt it too. One of your closest friends, Raven, who you usually talk about that kind of stuff, told you it might be a 'soulmate thing' which you immediately laughed at. You weren't looking for a relationship, especially with a guy you knew absolutely nothing about.

That fact was the only thing keeping Octavia together. It hurt to see the girl she had a crush on sleeping with people that aren't her but the fact that you weren't ready for a relationship because of how bad your last one ended soothed her nerves. You didn't want to start dating anyone yet and she was willing to wait.

"Fuck my life." you groaned lifting the cup of coffee that was waiting for you and drinking it immediately. You moaned in satisfaction at the taste and gave your best friend a thankful grin.

"Looks like that guy did fuck the life out of you since you haven't been able to get a good lay in a while." she said with a teasing smirk that didn't quite reach her eyes but you were too hung over to notice.

"Relax, (Y/N/N), it doesn't seem that bad. At least you didn't run out while they were asleep like you did last time." 

You lifted your head to give her a deadpan look, "I'm a junior that's attending Harvard and the biggest problem I have is getting laid. How is that not bad?"

Your best friend rolled her eyes and set her cup down, "Who was it anyway?"

"I think her name was Echo. Possibly a senior." you squinted your eyes in thought before nodding, "Yeah, Echo."

"I mean you can always try to get with Murphy again." she teased making you roll your eyes, "That was a friends with benefits thing that lasted less than two weeks. Don't get me wrong John is incredibly hot and the sex was good but we're so close it just feels weird."

You let a dramatic sigh leave your mouth, "I just wanna go to bed and spend my Saturday sleeping."

Octavia immediately shook her head, "Oh, no. You're not doing that. You're gonna go get a shower and get dressed in something that doesn't reveal half your stomach and that isn't a mini skirt. My brother is coming over for dinner."

"Shit, Tavi! I totally forgot about that."

"Don't worry about it." she shrugged with an amused chuckle.

"Where is he coming from anyway?" you asked, raising a curious eyebrow.

"Uh, he just finished his exams at Yale── his senior year── so he's coming earlier."

"Ooh a senior." you grinned cheekily, biting your bottom lip, "Is he hot?"

Octavia let out a humorless scoff, "You are not hooking up with my brother. Now go get up and take a shower. You stink."

-

"I'm coming!"

You heard Octavia yell from your room, where you had your nose stuck in your English book. Figuring that must be either her brother── who you might have forgotten the name of── or some of your friends that were also coming to dinner tonight, you set your book down and came out of your room to see Octavia tackling a tall figure into a hug.

The sight of your best friend this happy made a small smile appear on your face.

"God, I missed you O." you heard him say and you froze. 

That voice seemed oddly familiar. But it couldn't be──

"I missed you too, Bell. I want you to meet someone." the voice of your best friend broke you out of your thoughts.

He turned around to see you leaning against the door way with narrowed eyes, "Hi."

"So you're the famous (Y/N) I heard so much about?" he gave his younger sister a teasing side glance.

"Shut up." Octavia whispered with a glare.

"That would be me. And you must be . . . "

"Bellamy." he finished for you and extended his hand which you hesitantly took while still going over his features.

Well fuck. Realization crossed both your faces. You unintentionally hooked up with your best friends brother.

You watched as Bellamy's eyes visibly widened and figured he must've came to the same realization as soon as he let your hand go and cleared his throat.

He wasn't able to take the mystery girl he met at the bar out of his head and now he realized it was the same girl his sister kept talking about every time they talked. He couldn't stop the guilt from raising in his stomach and he had to stop himself from cursing out loud.

"Do you two know eachother?" his sister asked, looking between the two with a curious look in her eye.

"No." you were quick to say, "He just seemed familiar. I'm gonna call Raven to see if they're coming soon."

You gave him a warning look that basically screamed at him to keep his mouth shut before walking back to your room to get your phone.

-

Your friend group wasn't big but it was enough to make a huge mess out of your living room once everyone came over. That included Raven, John, Wells, Emori, Clarke and her girlfriend Lexa.

"Is there any more beer left?" you asked looking around the trashed living room.

"Wells drank the last one." Clarke stated making you huff while standing up, "I'm gonna get more from the fridge."

Bellant cleared his throat from the armchair he was sitting in, "I'll help."

You headed into the kitchen with the older boy following behind. As soon as you were sure you were out of earshot you turn around to see him already giving you a pleading look.

"Octavia can't know." 

"Well that's something we can both agree on. Octavia can never know I hooked up with her older brother." you rushed out, scrunching your nose up.

"I mean, was I that bad?" he stuttered making you laugh in disbelief.

"Is that seriously the most important thing right now? How the sex was doesn't matter. It can never happen again. Hooking up with siblings is one of the first rules of girl code, right behind hooking up with exes and I'm not gonna get in a fight with my best friend because of something as stupid as this." you stated, crossing your arms over your chest.

"How do you think I feel?" he deadpanned, "I slept with my little sister's best friend." and also the girl she couldn't stop talking about for months and is possibly in love with her.

Bellamy knew he messed up big time and he didn't want to ruin his relationship with his sister just because he couldn't keep it in his pants. 

"So we agree? We don't talk about that  night ever again."

"Definitely. We don't talk about it, we don't think about it and we definitely won't make it happen again." he agreed with hesitance in his voice.

"Good."

"Great."

"Perfect." you said more firmly and grabbed a bottle of beer from the fridge before making your way back into the living room. 

The eldest Blake watched as you walked away with only one thought on his mind. He was utterly fucked.

-

That night all your friends except Raven── who insisted on sleeping over and staying in your room── left around one in the morning so you got ready for bed and went back into your room where Raven was already sitting on your bed with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Spill."

You furrowed your eyebrows in genuine confusion, "What?"

"I'm not being (Y/N), there was this awkward sexual tension between you and Bellamy the whole night and the guy kept sneaking glances at you with the puppy dog eyes I haven't even seen Lexa give Clarke yet." 

"Raven── "

"Don't Raven me." she said stubbornly, "I'm not Octavia. You can't sweet talk me into getting out of things. Something happened."

"Maybe if you stopped yelling like those two aren't just down the hall I would tell you." you whispered harshly, closing the door behind you and plopping down on your bed.

Raven watched as you covered your face with your hands and groaned. A smirk slowly made a way onto her face, "Oh my Gods."

You moved your hands away and looked at her skeptically, "What?"

"He's the guy." she said with an excited grin, "You two would be perfect together if Octavia didn't already like you."

"Hold on, what?" you exclaimed sitting up with wide eyes.

"Shit, I shouldn't have said that." her eyes widened as she took in your panicked expression.

A thousand different emotions changed on your face in less than twenty seconds as one of your best friends watched you process the news you just got.

"Fuck." you ended up muttering as you flopped back onto your bed with a dazed expression on your face.

"So . . ." Raven started after a few seconds of you looking at the ceiling, "do you like her back?"

"I don't know." you started, eyebrows furrowing, "I mean I thought about it before but I don't think I can change my relationship with my best friend that much. It would feel weird."

"But all healthy relationships usually start with a good friendship right?"

You closed your eyes with a sigh, "Not if I already see her as a sister."

"Just sleep on it, okay. You guys are too close to stop being friends over this."

"Yeah, you're right."

-

Every Sunday, you get up early and go running so already knew you'd find Octavia, and possibly Raven, drinking coffee in the kitchen when you finally got home. But what you didn't expect was to see chocolate pancakes and toast in the kitchen too.

"Did I walk into the wrong house because it feels like I did?" you joke as soon as you walked into the kitchen.

"Well as Bell likes to say: Go big or go home." Octavia chuckled.

Raven snorted at her choice of words making you glare at her. When she caught your glare she gave you an innocent grin and kept eating her toast.

You rolled your eyes and tightened your ponytail, "I'll go take a shower and eat later."

Even though your words were directed at Octavia, Bellamy was the one that spoke up, "You should eat now before it gets cold, or before Octavia eats it all."

You debated on it before letting out a sigh and sitting between your two best friends. The four of you spend a few minutes silently eating breakfast and Raven couldn't help but notice how Bellamy seemed to be a bit flustered by the sight of you in your sports bra with sweat dripping from the side of your neck.

"So, Bellamy . . ." Raven spoke up with a small smirk, "how was the pull-out?"

You swore you almost choked on your coffee while Bellamy stopped eating his pancake and looked up at Raven with wide eyes, "T─The what?"

"The sofa." Raven said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, siping on her coffee.

"I── uh── " Bellamy cleared his throat, "I slept in the guest room."

Octavia looked between the three of you with a weird look on her face before settling her attention solemnity you, "Are you gonna actually do what I suggested yesterday?"

"Do what?" you asked confused, going back to drinking your coffee.

"Hook up with Murphy." she said in a 'duh' voice, "I mean I didn't think you'd actually consider it with the face you pulled after I suggested it yesterday but go for it."

To say you were taken aback by her words── especially in front of her brother── would be an understatement. You thought Raven said she has feelings for you but now she's pushing you to hook up with one of your closest friends. You gave Raven a confused look but only received a sly grin in return.

What the hell was that girl up to now?

While you were looking at Raven you didn't notice that the topic peeked Bellamy's interests.

"I didn't know you had a thing for Murphy." he said, trying to keep his jealousy in bay.

"I don't." you say immediately before looking at Octavia, "Like I told you yesterday. John and I are just friends."

"That hook up." Raven chimed in.

You scowled at her, "Hooked up. Once."

"For two weeks straight."

"Yeah! Last year! It isn't a big deal." you exclaimed and rolled your eyes.

"Calm down, hot stuff. We're just trying to help you with your obvious sexual frustration." 

You glared at Raven once more before setting your cup down, "This conversation is over. I'm gonna take a shower."

"Can I talk to you about something first?" Octavia asked with a somehow nervous look in her eyes that made you shake your head, "Can we do it later? I feel like I'm about to explode."

"Now, please." she got up from her seat and grabbed your hand to lead you into her room.

You watched her close the door and turn back to you, "I have to get something off my chest."

"Tavi, I don't think── " you tried cutting her off, not knowing how you're gonna break your best friend's heart.

"Let me finish." she said firmly, "Until a while ago . . . I might have had romantic feelings for you."

She noticed the look on your face and quickly rushed out, "I don't anymore! Raven helped me realize I tried to turn our great platonic connection into something romantic thinking it would make a perfect relationship when it would just ruin what we have now."

"So you don't have feelings for me anymore? Like at all?" 

"I think I was never actually in love with you, I was in love with the idea of us together." she says bitting her lip.

"Well that doesn't change our friendship or the way I look at you. You're always gonna be my best friend." you say pulling her into a hug.

"That goes both ways." she whispers, hugging me back, "It's also kind of obvious my brother has a thing for you and that it goes both ways."

"How do you── "

" ──know the two most important people in my life have a thing for each other?" she asks chuckling, "You might have been oblivious enough not to realize I had a thing for you but I'm not blind."

[laurensprentiss]

Jouska [Hotch x Reader]

Chapter 3:

Warnings: Mentions of stalking, creepy stuff. More *tension and pining*

Word Count: 2,447

———

“The rest is just wishes and hope, the most fragile of things.” - Sabaa Tahir

———

You strain as you bring the last of the boxes in, Hotch taking it from you as you walk in the door. It was now day 7 of what you thought would be a one, maybe two day task at most. The Virginia rain, apartment clean up and an excess of boxes had meant for a week of non-stop work and your body was begging for respite. You follow Hotch into the spare room where he sets down the box, the room almost full. He’s more laid back today, suit blazer and tie removed, strewn around haphazardly, his sleeves rolled up. You couldn’t help but take in the sight of his back as he had carried the box in, his forearms thick and flexing. You feel yourself flushing and snap out of it quickly, remembering you have work to do. 

You take a scan of the room and curse as you realise you forgot the cutlery box, turning to go back outside and retrieve it. Hotch turns around in surprise. “What is it?” He asks, a little breathless. He brings his forearm up to wipe the sweat off his brow, and you find yourself getting caught up again. 

Damn it. 

“Oh it’s nothing, I think I left a box in your car. I’ll go down and grab it real quick.” You tell him. He offers to go but you tell him you could use his help moving the boxes that are already here. The skies are grey and overcast as you step out into the foyer, and as you get closer you can hear the rain pelting the window, getting louder and heavier. You swear under your breath and run to the car, the rain hitting your skin like relentless little bullets, soaking you through. 

As you duck your head into the trunk to retrieve the last box, you feel a chilling sensation down your back, your body shooting up and looking around. You feel acutely aware of somebody’s eyes on you but the street is next to empty, almost eerily so, everybody retreating indoors to escape the miserable weather. Your hair stands on end and your skin erupts in goosebumps, only partly due to the cold weather, as you look around wide eyed, and unsettled trying to scan the street. 

“What? Are you taking a shower down there?” You hear from above you and you look up to see Hotch’s head and shoulders hanging from the window. 

“Yeah, I’ll be right up.” You say absent-mindedly, a pit in your stomach. You shake it off, thinking it’s probably just paranoia and hunger and work your way back inside. Once safely inside, you take a cursory look back one more time. 

“No, you’re just nervous, it’s fine.” You mutter under your breath to yourself.

You’re still in your head when the elevator doors open and you crash face first into a hard chest, the now soggy cardboard slightly squished against you and the person you’re pressed up against. “Easy! Easy.” The familiar voice laughs as he steadies you. He takes the box from you and starts to walk back down the hall in front of you. “You seriously didn’t see me coming?” 

You follow behind him in your wet boots, trying not to slip, letting out an unamused laugh. You still feel deeply unsettled, only letting out a sigh of relief once you’re finally home, door locked behind you. 

See here’s the thing about having a long-term stalker. You may not know who, what, why or how - but when someone’s watching. Deep down. You know. 

“Hey, you okay?” Hotch asks, his voice soft as he tracks your movements with his eyes. He watches you retrieve one of your dad’s old Yale sweatshirts and he ducks his head slightly so he can get a look at your face, taking away any chance you have of lying to him. You avoid eye contact and tell him you’re okay, as you try and slip past him out of the spare room and towards the bathroom. You slip on a piece of soggy cardboard stuck to the tile as you do and feel Hotch’s hands grab your arms to steady you, half-pinning you to the wall. 

You brace your forearms on his front, still clutching the sweatshirt. You look down at the culprit stuck to the bottom of your shoe and roll your eyes, embarrassed. You only realise how close you are when you go to move and realise Hotch has his arms braced against yours, caging you in. His brown eyes rake over your face, flitting to your lips, down to your chest and back up - and although you’re not moving, you swear you can feel him get closer. Heat radiates from his body and you feel yourself shiver, the rain cooling on your skin now, the moment affecting you. His scent invades your senses. 

His eyes are hooded when he swallows thickly, as the abrasive ringing of a telephone interrupts you. He releases you quickly as he almost snaps out of his trance and turns to retrieve his cellphone. Your heart thrums in your chest, a prickling heat creeping up your face and neck. You find yourself locked in place again, your eyes unblinking until he speaks from the other side of the room. 

What the hell was that? 

You push yourself off the wall and hurry across the living room and into the hallway, offering him a flushed smile as he speaks into the phone. 

You just want to get the hell out of there. 

“Hello?” His voice comes out gravelly and low as he moves aside for you to enter the bathroom. You faintly hear a woman’s voice on the other end and you quickly lock the door behind you. You let the water run as you strip and as much as you know you shouldn’t, you press your ear against the door. 

“I’m just making sure everything’s okay.” You think out loud. “It’s fine. This is fine.” You reason with yourself.

“Haley, I have to work late tonight.” You freeze. 

Haley? 

He continues, “I know, I’m sorry hon, but I’m on assignment right now, maybe we could go see your parents another weekend? Or maybe you could go with your sister?” 

Haley? 

Hon? 

You feel cold. Your heart sinks. Like you’re falling down a hole. You feel naive, foolish and so mortified that you even entertained the thought of - well the thought of what? Agent Hotchner? 

You shake your head to try and snap yourself out of it. You’re freezing cold now and the heat from the water is steaming up the mirror. You step into the shower, letting the hot water wash over you, the feeling of your body slowly restored, hands and feet prickling. 

You shower, no real thought or effort put into anything, but all you can think about is Hotch’s voice replaying in your head. 

Haley.

You chide yourself for even being affected, reasoning that you hardly even know the guy. He’s there because your father hired him. You’re a client. But then you think back to the day you met him, the way his eyes held your gaze and the way your hand fit in his. The way he gave you his blazer, the brush of his hands over your shoulders. The way he smelt. 

No. Doesn’t matter. You don’t know him. He’s there to do a job. 

The almost moment you had in the gazebo when you were almost at eye level, his body between your legs. His strong arms and broad chest-

No. 

The way he’d just gazed into your eyes and you could almost swear he leaned in when he looked at your lips. 

Almost. But then- 

“Haley.” You whisper. 

You change the water temperature to cold, not caring that the constant change in temperature couldn’t possibly be good for you. You needed to cool off. 

He’s someone else’s. And she’s probably great. She had to be, right? And even if she wasn’t, even if he wasn’t somebody else’s, it still wouldn’t make him yours. Your heart sinks involuntarily at that. It’s the truth, you know this. So then why does it cut at you? You let out a prolonged groan, hoping the sound of the water covers up your frustration. 

“Man, I need to get laid.” You laugh as you dry off. You pull your shorts and sweatshirt on, taking the comfort in the old, worn material, hugging it close. You wrap your hair and take a deep, steadying breath, wiping the steam off the mirror. 

You slap a smile on your face as you talk to your reflection. “You’re fine. You’re totally fine. It’s fine, I’m good. I’m fine.” You resolve. You repeat it over and over like a mantra. 

You step out into the hallway, the air refreshing. And then you see him, and your body betrays you. Your heart skips a beat and you curse yourself. 

Shit. 

You take another breath and walk down the hallway into the living room, where he sits, his face illuminated only by a lamp in the corner. He’s reading something pensively, a hand stroking his beard. The closer you walk, the more you recognise the handwriting and the stationary, the aggressive scrawl all too familiar. He hears the pitter patter of your feet against the tile but his expression doesn’t change. 

“It’s him?” You shudder. 

He doesn’t respond. Just nods. Hands you the letter and a blue latex glove wordlessly. You grip the glove and letter, not bothering to put it on your hands, your vision blurring. Your body goes cold. 

“YOU THINK I’D FORGET ABOUT YOU? YOU’RE ALL MINE AND YOUR LITTLE FBI FRIEND IS GOING TO GET WHAT’S COMING TO HIM. WELCOME BACK MY LOVE.” 

“Oh God.” You drop the letter. Hotch shoots up from his seat and walks around the sofa to steady you. “Oh God, oh God, no no no.” 

“Hey. Hey. It’s okay, I got you.” He wordlessly sits you down on the sofa and rubs your shoulders. “I sweeped the hallway when I saw the note and called McCall and Barnes. They already sweeped the outside and surrounding areas, Metro PD’s been told to keep an eye out. But he keeps his face out of the camera, so we can’t see him.” 

“No- no it’s not that. Earlier today. I-“ 

“You what?” His eyes widen. “Did something happen? When you were outside?” 

You tell him that you felt like somebody had been watching you earlier when you went to grab the boxes, but you thought it was just your imagination. 

“I’m sorry. I should’ve told you.” You whisper. “And now he’s after you, too.” You feel a twinge of guilt deep in your chest. 

His heart drops. 

“Hey, hey no c’mon. You don’t need to apologise here.” He grasps your hands in his, squeezing gently, his thumbs rubbing small circles on the back of your hands. His eyes are so earnest when he looks at you, you feel like you could cry. “We will get him. I promise you. Don’t worry about me, I can handle it.” He squeezes a little with every word to make his point. 

You squeeze his hands back, a silent confirmation of his promise to you, and your gesture floods his body with a kind of warmth of you he’s wholly unfamiliar with. All he can do is just watch your face as you go through the motions and he wishes he could find a quick fix for you. His thumbs keep rubbing small circles on the back of your hand and his phone rings again. 

He gives your hands a squeeze and excuses himself. “Yes, sir. A note. Yes, I agree, possibly delusional, he’s not going to go without a fight. Yes, Sir, I’ll be right there.”

He sits beside you and tells you he needs to go meet with Barnes at the office to debrief him on the situation and hand the note over to evidence. “I’m gonna wait until McCall gets here, and I’ll be right back to relieve him. Okay?” 

You fuss and tell him that he should go and that you can take care of yourself, it’s not like the son of a bitch will rush back in a hurry. “Besides.” You walk over to the spare room and pull out a baseball bat from the boxes, Hotch behind you. “I have just the thing to bash the bastard’s head in.”

He chuckles. “While I’m impressed by your choice of weaponry, I’d be breaking protocol if I left now. I can wait.” You thank him nonetheless. 

When McCall does arrive, he informs you he’ll stand outside so you can get some privacy if you need to rest. It’s almost midnight when Hotch returns, the moonlight illuminating the sofa on the living room. He finds you asleep in the fetal position on the couch, blanket around your waist, hugging yourself close for warmth, baseball bat by your side. He smiles at the sight, his heart warming at the almost comical juxtaposition of your peaceful face and right next to it, a baseball bat. He chuckles. 

He pulls the blanket up over your shoulders and kneels down. His pinky finger pushes a lock of hair out of your face with a feather light touch, careful not to wake you. He takes a moment, just to watch, to be in the moment for the sake of it. He wants nothing more in that moment than to hold you, to lean in, just a little… and you’d almost be touching…

His face steels. But he has a commitment to make on one hand and a job to do on another. And he’s nothing if not a man of principle and so finds it in him to drag himself away from you to slap some cold water on his face. 

Your eyes tear open as you hear him walk away. Your heart pounds as the footsteps retreat, your body buzzing. You’d heard him come in, your eyes too tired to open or to greet him. But then he came closer, and you kept them closed still. You’d smelt his cologne as he was just inches from you, his breath on your face. You’d felt the way he’d brushed the hair off your face so tenderly and the way he almost leaned in...

Did he want-

-No. He has Haley. 

But he’s here. That’s what matters. 

You banish the thought from your head and bury your face in the blanket, sleep coming a little easier now that you felt safe. Truly safe. 

——

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taglist: @oreogutz @andromedasstarship @galacticnerd-78 @izzyl13 @private-backrooms @crying-river @purpledragonturtles

[extremelyblackandwhite]

style

pairing: eb!frank x reader

summary: frank realises he’s in love with his sister’s best friend. inspired by taylor swift’s style, a prequel to this.

You've got that long hair slick back, white t-shirt and I got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt, and when we go crashing down, we come back every time 'cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style. So it goes, he can't keep his wild eyes on the road, takes me home, lights are off he's taking off his coat

Parties had never been Y/N’s cup of tea, she found them more to be an excuse for people to drink and smoke their worries away rather than deal with their issues. It was more of an escapism, in her mindset, for those which daylight brought too much worry and thus the night darkness and blinding neon lights allowed for a forgetfulness of what awaited outside. As one to try and solve whatever came her way, she absolutely despised them. There were better ways of socialising. However, Clara seemed to be just like her brother when it came to partying as right now, the house that during Christmas looked like every American sitcom’s house looked more like the drug den where the mafia would be hiding out with all the empty solo cups and random people making out on various corners.

Nevertheless, she was here and somehow here sounded better than her cold, mouldy student apartment. With a solo cup in hand, Y/N had taken refuge by the door, looking as people exited and entered the home and taking mental notes about Clara’s behaviour and how to properly tease her once her drunkenness faded away.  Still, the real reason why she wasn’t inside freaking out whenever someone did use a coaster was Frank. When she agreed to come to the party, not in the wildest of her wildest thoughts did she think Frank would be around. He lived in the city and, following his mother, would only come out if he was broke or in huge trouble, however, here he was. Well, at least his broken up, terrible car was and considering how much he loved the piece of junk, he was probably around trying to flirt with as many university girls as he could while she was hiding, not wanting to face the events that took place during Christmas. 

     - Y/N ... - she could hear Clara almost sing out her name as she stumbled onto the porch of her home, tall and probably older man next to her which made alarm bells sound on her mind. The drunk girl must’ve realised that as she quickly explained who was next to her. - Y/N, this is Jack. Jack is a friend of Frank’s and he’s a writer like you. Thought you’d like to chat. 

     - Pleasure. - he stuck out a hand for her to shake which she did, worried look still settled on her face. Clara, happy with her match making, returned to the inside of the house, probably to down more of the cheap cider she had gotten from the corner shop. - So, what are you majoring on? 

     - English at Yale. 

     - Yale, that’s a big one. How is it going so far? One of my mates has started a teaching assistant position there, all I hear are good things from it. - he was nice, maybe too nice. Nice enough that Y/N wondered if he had a weirder darker side he wasn’t showing to her as that would be the only reason someone would decide to be friends with Frank whose occupation was still a big question mark on her head. 

     - Well, it’s Yale, never changes that much I suppose. - she shrugged, not entirely sure how to keep the conversation interesting.

     - Who are you hiding from? - he leaned by her side, a much less used solo cup in his hand with clear liquid which Y/N guessed by the colour and smell was probably vodka. Not her favourite poison. She raised her brow at his question, wondering if she was putting it out in the world that she was constantly trying to escape from that party. - No one wears full black and then hangs by the porch unless they’re trying to hide from someone.

    - Maybe I’m in mourning. - she tilted her head slightly up, smirk on her lips as she took the last sip from whatever cheap corner shop strawberry flavoured wine she had been drinking for the past hour. - Besides, July nights have the best night skies. 

     - I’m afraid I’ll have to agree. - Jack looked upwards to the particularly clear sky. It was one of those weird hot nights which contained only the slightest of warm air coursing through and one of the most stunningly clear skies. Had she been back in her youth, Y/N would have been rushing outside with her telescope to see if she could see any celestial bodies. 

Meanwhile Frank was having his own sort of fun. He was never one to say no whenever his sister rarely invited him to a party with her university friends as that normally meant a wide array of less than five dollar spirits, cheap keg beer and people willing to give you a cigarette if asked. It also didn’t hurt that university girls were extremely easy for him to flirt with, however, tonight, he was looking for Y/N. He had even arrived earlier to see if he could catch her helping Clara with the decorations but she was nowhere to be seen and in the past four hours, he hadn’t seen or heard her name. It wasn’t like Clara was much of help, ignoring him whenever he asked for her best friend. 

Things were starting to get boring and he wondered if he’d be better off at home either sleeping or having quality alcohol. As he saw yet another couple climb up the stairs to what he hoped wasn’t his childhood bedroom, he decided it wasn’t worth the hassle. Y/N most likely wasn’t at the party, it wasn’t her style, and he was wasting time. Besides, he was a fully grown man and she was a girl in the middle of university, not even mentioning his sister’s confidant. This was probably just his instinct of trying to stick it up to his sister by screwing around with her friends. 

Frank threw his cup onto the growing pile in the bin and grabbed his jacket Moving through the crowds of people and ignoring the few girls who tried to stop him by grabbing his hand, he eventually made it to the red entrance door which was slightly open to reveal Jack. Maybe he was up to go to an actual bar, Frank thought to himself. However, what he wasn’t expecting as he stepped closer was to see Y/N in a slip black dress with a drink in hand and a stupid little smile as if Jack was telling her the best of jokes, which he probably wasn’t considering he had no sense of humour. At least not a good one. 

    - Hey man, you alright? - Jack noticed him as he turned to place the cup on the ground. - Going home already? 

    - It’s a university party, I’ve had my few share of it. - his eyes lingered on Y/N who suddenly found the tree of their front garden the most exciting and fantastic thing in the whole world. He probably should’ve just ignored it and let it slide but he couldn’t help it. - I see you’ve meet Rory. 

    - Shut up, Frank. - she rolled her eyes at the nickname he refused to drop. Jack looked utterly confused at the both of them, he was certain Clara had introduced her as Y/N and not Rory. Was he that drunk already? - Frank insists in calling me Rory, I’ve told him to stop.

    - You know each other? - he moved his finger between both his friend and Y/N who was trying to find something to look at other than Frank. 

    - We’re acquaintances. - Y/N quickly replied before Frank had any ideas or any snarky comments, which, let’s be honest, he most likely did. - Spent Christmas together. 

    - Oh ... - Jack rubbed his neck and, feeling the atmosphere settling between the three of them, decided to go back inside with the excuse of needing a refill which he clearly didn’t. If looks could kill, Y/N’s look as he left would’ve dropped him straight to the ground in less than a second yet sadly they couldn’t and now she was stuck with the last person in the world she wanted to be stuck with. 

    - Flirting with my friend to get my attention? - he spoke up in that tone of voice that made her want to hit his head against the side of the house. - You could’ve just come and find me. 

    - Knock it off. - she threw her plastic cup at him, watching as the pink of her drink stained his shirt and took off inside the house to try and find her purse. Why she had stayed in so long she didn’t know but suddenly the moldey, icy apartment sounded like paradise to her.

Y/N entered the storage closet which Clara had conveniently turned into a coat hanger and stared to look for her coat and purse. All she wanted to do was find her coat and her phone so she could call an Uber and evaporate from this party before Frank could find her and make another snarky remark. Sometimes she wondered if he only existed so he could poke fun of her.

As she kept browsing through the endless sea of jackets, between the noise of the crumbling fabrics, she heard the door being shut behind her. Y/N rolled her eyes, expecting it to be Frank trying to play a trick on her but as she turned to face the door she didn’t see Frank. Instead, she saw one of her colleagues with whom she shared Medieval Narratives class with. 

   - Hi Nate. Looking for your coat? 

   - I was actually looking for you. Clara said she saw you come in here so I followed you. - he took a step closer to her, turning their once comfortable distance into one that she wasn’t very comfortable with. - You look stunning tonight. 

   - I know. - she said, taking a step back hoping it’d send a message that she was not keen with such closeness. She grabbed her coat from the hanger and purse quickly and tried to excuse herself but he refused to move. - Nate, I have to go. I have some essays I need to look into and I’m not in the mood for whatever this is. 

   - C’mon, I’m a nice guy. - he put his hand on her waist thus ending the tiny shred of patience that was still within her. With a might, she kicked him in the leg, making him crutch which gave her enough time to reach for the door, opening it wide and power walking out of it. However, he seemed to not be done with the constant following. - NEXT TIME DON’T DRESS LIKE A WHORE IF YOU DON’T SOMEONE TO APPROACH YOU!

She stopped on her tracks, still facing the door as she wondered if she had heard it correctly. By the sounds of the people surrounding her who had suddenly stopped their chats allowing her to listen to the music playing wide and clear, she had heard it well. 

   - You’re drunk, Nate. - she turned around to look at him, still keeping her distance and surrounding herself by other party goers who had found her answer not interesting enough to hold their attention. 

   - And you’re clearly still the same uptight goody two shoes who needs a good fuck to be put in her place. - Y/N rolled her eyes. Just what she fucking needed tonight. As she prepared to find a comeback for that and return to her beloved mission of reaching her home, someone punched him, the strength of the blow itself sending him to the ground. - What the fuck? 

   - Stay down if you know what’s good for you. - she recognised that voice way too well to know who it was. Her gaze went from Nate who was standing on the ground, clearly following orders, to Frank who had just punched him hard enough to scare him into not going up. God, great. Just what she needed, Frank to get a saviour complex. 

Deciding this was too much for her, she returned to her mission of reaching the outside which after a few “are you okay?” from some of her friends who were sober enough to recognise the situation, had been successfully reached. Y/N sat down on the sidewalk by the house, phone in hand as she read that her driver would be in her with an hour. On that specific moment, she agreed with Frank as she let out angry huff. 

   - Fuck the suburbs. - she mumbled, bringing her knees up to her chin. There was no way this night could get any worse. 

   - Are you alright? - Y/N looked up to see Frank. Had she not been harassed by someone she probably would need to see again, she would’ve probably found the strength within to tell him to leave her alone. - I can leave if you want me too, Y/N. 

   - Nice to know you can use my name. - she commented. - You didn’t need to do that, didn’t need your help. 

   - Yeah, I know but he was asking for it. - he took a seat on the sidewalk, a bit further from her. - I think Clara’s got the rest of the beating handled. God, she’s ruthless when she drinks cider. 

   - Should’ve seen her during Fresher’s week. She climbed up the roof of our student housing topless and screaming the lyrics of "Wake me Up Before you Go”. - Y/N giggled at the memory of her and her flatmates trying her hardest to remove Clara from the wet roof. 

   - How come you never tell me the interesting stories? - Frank slightly turned to look at her. He couldn’t see her face completely due to her hair in front of it, but of what he could see, she thought she was the most stunning thing brought to life. 

   - Well, you never ask me. - she too turned to look at him. - You cannot tell Clara that I told you that. 

   - Can’t promise anything. - he raised his hands. - How long til your Uber arrives?

   - An hour. - she huffed again. - Now I understand why you like the city so much.

   - Get up. - he raised from his seating position, lending her a hand so she could do the same. - I’ll take you home. 

   - Frank, I will not enter the death machine again specially when you’ve been drinking. - her eyes turned to the same car. God, how come someone whose parents were well off decided to get that type of thing and call it a car? 

   - Cheap alcohol does not affect me besides I want to give you a ride. Just to make sure you’re safe.

   - I’m safe enough in an Uber, Frank. 

   - Consider this, you’re an university student and it’s not gonna be cheap to catch an Uber during a Friday night. Just humour me, you don’t even have to speak with me, I’ll just drive you and drop you off. - he took his keys from his jacket pocket, the little keychain catching the little and she couldn’t help but let out a small smile as she recognised he was still using the keychain she had given him for Christmas. - You pick the music? 

  - No snarky comments? - she decided to negotiate. - And by snarky comments it includes calling me Rory Gilmore, Gilmore, Rory or any variation of the name. You will make me hate watching Gilmore Girls. 

  - Fine, deal. - Y/N followed Frank into his death machine also known by common people as a car. He kept his promise, not saying a single word and only turned on the radio which was playing some instrumentals. Throughout most of the journey, both their gazes were set on the road, not entirely sure how to interact to each other. She was the first to break the gaze from the road, turning her head ever to slightly to look at the side of his face. Y/N would never admit it out loud that Frank was an attractive but he was and somehow managed to look even better whenever his face was calm. Lips partially open, eyes slightly narrowed as his hands gripped onto the steering wheel. Her gaze settled on his parted lips, almost as if she could feel them against hers like Last Christmas.

If she were to be completely honest, she had put the event right in the back of her head fully knowing exactly what type of guy he was. She didn’t need to hear it from him, she knew it from accounts from Clara who’d normally complain about how many girlfriends her brother had gone through and how he liked to mess around with her friends to get under her skin. However, she was still a woman with taste and as such she found him wildly handsome.

    - Stop staring at me, Y/N. - he pulled over one of Yale’s residencies, not entirely sure where Y/N and Clara lived. - We’re here. 

    - Thanks. - she put her hands on her lap, diverting her gaze from him. - Uhm, I think I should also thank you for punching Nate. 

    - I would punch whatever guy disrespected you. - he shrugged, almost as if being her protector came to him naturally. - Even if you flirted with my friend prior.

   - I did not flirt with Jack, Frank. Even if I did it was none of your business. - if she didn’t know any better, she would’ve said he was being jealous. - Clara introduced us, if you must know. 

   - You can tell me you fancy him. I saw you all smiley as if he were a comedian which let me tell you, sweetheart, he definitely isn’t. 

   - I don’t fancy him. - she harshly opened the door of his car, huffing as she stepped out. Frank did the same but instead of lighting a cigarette, he instead walked to her, arms crossed. - Even if I was interested in Jack, I wouldn’t owe an explanation. You, out of all people who is constantly screwing around. 

   - Just asking, sweetheart. No need to get worked out over it. 

   - If it bothers you so much at least admit it, Frank. Don’t sulk about it like a school boy. - she took a step forward, heel clicking against the worn out asphalt of the ground.

   - You’re my baby sister’s friend, I couldn’t care less.  

   - Seems like you’re awfully interested, Frank.

   - You wish I was. - he put his hand on his pocket to fish for his cigarette pack along with his lighter. - Is that why you were flirting with Jack?

   - You know what ... - she dropped her purse to the ground, hands coming to grab his face as her lips collided with his for the first time since Christmas. The kiss went on for a while, lasting substantially longer than she had intended.

Y/N tested the waters plenty of times by pulling away slowly but, much to her surprise, Frank took a step forward each time with a smirk against his lips as he slowly pushed her against the side of his car. She thought it would last forever or at least until one of them lost breath. That someone proved to be Frank, who pulled away, a very large stretched grin across his wet chapped lips as he stared down at her, her eyes staring right back.

    - Hey! - a bright light shined their way, interrupting the moment. She looked in the direction seeing one of the campus security guard with a flashlight in hand. - No funny business on campus grounds. 

    - Sorry. - she mumbled as the guard went his merry way. Her eyes settled back on Frank. - I should go back to my flat. 

    - I’ll walk with you.

    - No. - she raised her hand. - You can go back, I know the way. 

    - Y/N ... wait. - he rushed after her. - I know you don’t wanna talk about it but I don’t flirt with you just because you’re my sister’s friend. 

    - It’s really not the point, Frank. I know the type of man you are and I know exactly how you act. I should probably know better but I don’t and I’m a few cups in of cheap wine so my judgement is clouded. 

    - Listen, maybe when your judgment isn’t so clouded, we can discuss this.

    - Sure, Frank. - she sighed, tired and wanting to go into a hole and scream at herself. What was wrong with her? God, this was worse than when she had a crush on the neighbour’s son. Why would she kiss him? Out of everyone? Was she feeling way too thankful for him being her weird white knight, she did not know, all she knew is that she needed to leave his sight, fast. - Good night. 

    - Night, Ace. 

[cotncandyboifics]

1989 [High School AU]: Chapter 5

AO3 Link

Masterpost

Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 6 ~ Chapter 7 ~ Chapter 8 ~ Chapter 9 ~

Pairings: slight Logince, eventual Prinxiety & Logicality

Word count: 2,262

Story summary: Roman Prince is your stereotypical Jock, with everyone swooning after him. Every day a crowd of people follow him around, only to disperse at his personal whim. In reality, he's lucky to have such good acting skills that help him cover up the disdain he has for his life. He only wishes he could use his skills properly.

Patton Whitelock's always there to lend a helping hand, no matter who you are. If you need a favor or just need someone to talk to, go to him. In reality, he's been taught from a young age that kindness should be held above all else. No one suspects that he took it the wrong way.

Logan Montgomery is the smartest boy in the Senior class. He's stern, and most people are too intimidated to speak to him. In reality, he despises most all of his fellow students. He sticks to his studies and doesn't stray, for fear of being stuck in his father's shadow his whole life.

Virgil Black is the most emo kid in school, let alone 12th grade; everyone knows to leave him be. In reality, he's very fortunate. He has two parents who love him dearly. But everything beyond his life, everything within his mind, is utter chaos and turmoil.

what will happen when they're assigned a biology project together?

General CW: food, swearing, implied s-lf h-rm, non-graphic descriptions of s-lf h-rm scars, graphic and non-graphic descriptions of anxiety attacks and panic attacks, drug abuse, minor character intoxicated on heroin, non-graphic drug overdose description, sickness/description of sickness, blood, non-graphic descriptions of needles, (will be added to as I write more)

Chapter CW: food, drug abuse, minor character intoxicated on heroin, implied s-lf h-rm, sickness/description of sickness, (let me know if i missed anything please!)

Author notes: prepare yourself for copious helpings of Patton angst in this chapter :)

...

Logan sat quietly in the back seat of his parent's car, leaning his head against the window. Everything remained silent for a long time. Eventually, his father cleared his throat from behind the wheel, moving his shoulders a bit.

"Son, your mother and I have something to tell you." His voice was strong and stern, as it usually was, but Logan sensed some excitement behind it.

"Oh?" Logan replied. His mother put her hand on his father's arm, and whispered something Logan couldn't quite hear.

"Nonsense. Of course this is a good time." Logan's father shook his wife's hand off, and looked at Logan through the rear view mirror. "Logan, do you remember that I told you I was having a meeting with some of my friends from Yale and Harvard?"

Logan's father had attended Harvard as a pre-grad, studying business, and went to grad school at Yale. Logan nodded, remembering that his father had had lunched with them on Sunday afternoon.

"Yes, father."

"Well, I have some wonderful news. As you are aware, some of them are on the staff, and are good friends with head of admissions," with each word, Logan's father grew more and more cheery, but never retired his intimidating demeanor. "So I had a word with some of them, and to make a long story short," Logan saw a hint of a smile on his father's face, "You have an opportunity for an exclusive shadowing of both schools." His father looked at him now through the rear view mirror again, expecting a certain reaction.

Logan's mind raced. He couldn't let that show, though. "That sounds excellent father, I'm looking forward to it. I know this could mean so much for my future. Thank you kindly."

"Of course you're looking forward to it. This is an opportunity that comes once in a lifetime!" His father was grinning now, but focusing back on the road. His mother looked back at him with a concerned look, and Logan eyed her curiously. Why does she seem so reluctant? Doesn't she know what this means to me? To father?

"Indeed. When would we go?" Logan asked, shifting in his seat a bit.

His father's smile faltered a bit. "Not until March, next semester." He focused on driving then.

"Understandable and adequate," Logan responded, returning his gaze to the houses passing outside.

...

Virgil sat on the bus, hunched over his phone, scrolling through Tumblr. As he looked around again, always anxious and aware of other people, his phone buzzed.

Mom <3: Hey sweetie. How are things going? We love you :) <3

Virgil smiled at the text, and opened it up.

Virgil:  hi mom.  i 'm on the bus, headed home. be there in ~20 min. love you too

He closed his phone then, putting it away and letting himself get lost in the sounds of fallout boy.

about twenty minutes later, adhering to his estimation, Virgil walked up the steps to his front door, turned the key in the lock, and opened it. His mother had her back to him and was standing over the stove, handling a large pan and humming sweet nothings to herself. His father was sitting on the couch in the living room, thumbing through yesterday's paper.

"Hey," Virgil said, kicking his shoes off by the door.

"Hey there honeybunch!" His mom called sweetly from the kitchen. "Dinner's ready in ten. Will you let your brother know?"

"Sure mom," Virgil said, walking over and giving his mom a kiss on the cheek. He then walked to the living room, and greeted his father with a hug.

"Hey, son! Have a good day?" He asked.

"Heh, yeah dad. Dinner's ready in ten, don't keep mom waiting again," Virgil teased. His father often was late to the dinner table on account of his reading.

"Don't worry, I won't kiddo," His dad said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"And Virge," His mom stopped him as he walked towards the staircase, "Let Addie know that if he sets the table, there's a cookie or two in it for him, will you?"

Virgil smirked. "Sure, mom."

Virgil walked upstairs and turned down the hall, walking into his brother Atticus' bedroom.

Atticus was sitting on the end of his bed, enthralled in a game of Mario Kart, surrounded by stacks of superhero comics. He didn't acknowledge his brother entering until Virgil turned off his PS4.

"Hey! I was about to win!!" Atticus complained. Virgil just walked over and gave his little brother a good noogie.

"Dinner's almost ready. Be a good little boy and go set the table will you? It might mean a treat for desert," Virgil bargained.

"How do you know?" Atticus countered.

"I had a little talk with mom, and she said how much she loves for you to set the table, and that if you did it tonight, she'd let you have two cookies after dinner," Virgil pressed. Atticus made a face, as if weighing his options in his head, and eventually begrudgingly hopped off the bed and stalked down the hall.

Virgil dropped his stuff off in his own room, throwing his backpack in a corner and checking his eyeshadow in the mirror. A flash of light caught his eye, and he looked over on his desk to see...

a pair of scissors, sprawled open on his essay draft for Mr. Berry. there was some blood, and some of it had smeared on the paper. The blood looked fresh, or at least Virgil knew it was. It was less than 24 hours old.

"Virgil honey, Dinner!" He heard his mother's voice from the bottom of the stairs.

"Coming!!" Virgil shouted, putting the scissors in one of the drawers of his desk along with the bloody homework assignment. Walking out of his room, he made one last glance at the drawer, and then shut his door.

...

Patton stepped off the bus, and began pacing in the direction of his house. he lived across town from school, so the bus ride often brought him to his destination around sunset. At least it gave him time to do what homework he could before returning to the chaos of his home.

the neighborhood he lived in was once rather nice, a solid middle class area, but since then many houses had been abandoned or rented by their owners to less well-off groups, so it wasn't the most aesthetically pleasing area. however, it wasn't particularly unsafe or crime-ridden, so it wasn't unlivable.

Patton's mind raced as he neared his home. He wondered if his brother would be conscious when he got there, how his mom would be feeling. though he took care of her as best as he could, they couldn't afford medical insurance and she only seemed to be getting sicker.

he finally arrived in front of the house, walked up the walkway and up a few stairs onto the porch, and went to reach for his key when he noticed the door hanging slightly ajar.

Stricken with slight panic, Patton opened the door all the way and rushed inside, immediately seeing a dark slumped figure at the end of the hall. he shut the door behind him and turned on the hall light, revealing that the figure was his brother Hailen, unconscious and cradling a small syringe in one hand.

Patton approached his brother and knelt down to examine the situation. The crook of Hailen's elbow on the other arm had a small trickle of blood seeping down his forearm a few inches. He'd stirred a small bit when Patton had shut the door, so he still had something left in him. Patton took the syringe and went to the bathroom, throwing it away and grabbing a small first aid kit from the medicine cabinet, and returned to Hailen to clean and patch up the place he'd injected himself.

Once he was cleaned up Patton helped Hailen up and half carried him, his arm draped across Patton's shoulders and Patton's arm supporting his torso, to their shared bedroom. He laid him on the bed and brought him a glass of water, pulled the blanket over him and left the room. Now that he'd taken care of his brother, his bigger concern took his full attention.

He walked back out into the hall and to his mother's room, and knocked gently on the door. When no reply came, Patton opened the door slowly. The room was very dim, just some moon rays shining through a small window near the ceiling. there was a mound of comforters and blankets on the bed which Patton knew contained the most important person to him in the world.

he stepped carefully to the side of the bed, and saw, in the nest of blankets, the resting pale face of his mother. some strands of her dark hair splayed on the blankets and pillows around her head.

"Mom?" Patton said, his voice awfully small, putting a hand gently on where he assumed her shoulder was. She stirred and began coughing, and opened her eyes. She smiled as much as she could when she saw her younger son standing there, looking somehow cheerful and loving as ever. "hi mom, how did you feel today?" he asked softly. She went to clear her throat to speak but began coughing again.

She regained herself and spoke, in a small and raspy voice. "I think I'm starting to get a bit better. I was..." she sneezed. "ugh- i was able to eat about half the soup you left me this morning." she gestured to the bowl of green slop on her bedside table , that appeared to have been partially eaten.

"That's wonderful," Patton smiled wider. "How's your fever? here, let me check your temperature," he said, retrieving the thermometer from her bedside table.

"it feels a bit better. I'm not so sweaty today," She said as Patton cleaned the tip of the thermometer and turned it on.

"I'm so glad. Open," he said, and she opened her mouth slightly. He set the thermometer in, and she closed her mouth, and they waited.

"I'm so sorry we can't get you to a hospital," Patton whispered. "I'm really trying to find work, there's just not many places that have open positions with hours i can work." The thermometer beeped and Patton took it out of his mother's mouth.

"Please sweetheart, you're already carrying this family and balancing your schoolwo-" She went into another small coughing fit.

"Please, don't speak, it just hurts your throat mom," Patton replied. She simply nodded. "Well, you're at 101.2, lower than yesterday. That's good news." He smiled to her, and she attempted to return it. "Now I'm going to go and get you some medicine and water. Would you like to try to eat a bit too? i can make some more soup?" He asked. She nodded. "Okay, I'll be right back." He took the bowl of old soup and turned on his heel. As he reached the door, she spoke again.

"Is your brother okay? I heard him come in earlier, and fall... he didn't sound too good." she whispered so as not to irritate her throat, and it was nearly inaudible. Patton sighed.

"He'll be okay. I got him to bed. Don't worry about it too much," He turned back and smiled.

Patton made his way to the kitchen which, unlike most of their house, was somewhat well kept. He got a can of soup from the pantry and turned on the stove, setting a small pot on it. Then he retrieved his mother's medicine from the refrigerator, a bottle of murky purple syrup that looked a bit toxic, and smelled like synthetic grapes. He poured a bit into a small measuring cup and put the bottle away.

Where had he been all day? How was he even getting heroin? What's going on with him? ... doesn't he know mom needs us?

The pot was hot enough now, so he opened the can and poured the contents into the pot, grabbing a wooden spoon and stirring gently. He took a glass from the cabinet and filled it with tap water, and a single cube of ice from the freezer. The soup was nearly done, so he grabbed a bowl as well. Noticing there was definitely enough soup for two bowls, he grabbed another, and filled them with equal portions.

I should try to get him to eat at least. I should figure out how to detox him as soon as possible. Gosh, I hope Mrs. Hanson isn't too mad I didn't quite finish my first draft tomorrow.

He brought the first bowl, the water, and the medicine to his mother, making sure she got all the syrup down. Leaving her to rest and try to eat, he took the second bowl and slung a small towel over his shoulder, heading back to his room.

His brother was stirring more now, murmuring quietly in a seemingly foreign language, his eyes slightly open and glazed. Patton tried to get him to sit up, and Hailen put what effort he could into helping. Eventually they got into a manageable position, with Hailen sort of half-laying on Patton's shoulder. Patton tried to spoon some soup into his brother's mouth, and it sort of worked; Hailen would swallow but some of the soup would always drip down onto the towel. Patton didn't mind, he was just glad his brother was able to get something in his system.

You'll get through this. I'm so sorry.

Hailen finished the soup and Patton wiped his mouth with a clean section of the towel, and laid him back down. He whispered a small goodnight to his brother, then threw the towel in the general direction of his laundry basket. He pulled off his clothes and laid down in his own bed, and willed himself to sleep. Things will get better, for all of us.

[hurricanerin]

Not Just One of Your Many Toys 1: Don’t Tell Me What to Do

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale/OFC

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: MAJOR SPOILERS, loss of virginity, power imbalance, general dickishness

Summary: Ransom and Olivia have been thorns in each other’s sides for fifteen years.  They’ve tolerated one another, coaxed each other through major milestones, and trampled on one another’s hearts.  After years spent healing from one of Ransom’s toxic outburst, Olivia finds herself subpoenaed by the Drysdale family as a character witness for his criminal trial.  Their son is out of control, and the one person with the best chance of getting through to him wants absolutely nothing to do with the man.   

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Boston, 2005

 There has never been a moment in my life that I haven’t known exactly who Ransom Drysdale is.  We met in the fall of 2005, right after my dad was promoted with General Electric and my family had moved to Boston from Puerto Rico for his new job. I was 13 and Ransom was 19, and I could’ve told you within 5 minutes of enduring his company that he was a playboy and a Grade A narcissist.  

My parents and his mom, the legendary Linda Drysdale, had closed on our new house the week before.  When my papá had mentioned to our realtor that he had 6 engineer brothers and sisters in PR also looking to move to the Boston area, Linda immediately swooped in and took over the sale.  We had moved into the new house for two days when who showed up on our doorstep with a giant Harry and David gift basket on his mother’s behalf? Ransom.  I’ve never seen my mom so taken with a man so quickly.  It was absolutely nauseating.  

My mom and I had been sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast with my little brother when Ransom waltzed in, ruining our meal.  While he charmed my mom, I shooed Gian from the table, stuffed him into his coat and boots and shoved his toast into his hand.  

“You’re gonna miss your bus, vete,” I said with an affectionate push.

He waved me off, but I could see his smile as he scrambled out the door towards his friends.  When I turned around, Mamá was on the phone, distractedly scribbling on a notepad at the center island.  Ransom had seated himself at our table and was examining the gift basket. After retrieving a pear, he rearranged the treats so it looked as if nothing were missing.  Catching my eye, he shot me a grin, took a bite of the fruit and flaunted it in front of me.

“Want some?”

My mom’s groan of frustration cut off my retort as she hung up.  Without missing a beat, Ransom hid the pear behind his leg.

Clipping her beeper to the waist of her skirt, she motioned at my backpack.  “Ol, you need to get your school stuff and hop in the car, I have to go to the hospital early.  I need to drive you; school is on the way.  A patient needs to go into surgery now.”

I scowled and put my hands on my hips. “I’m taking the bus with my friends. You said at this school I could!”

Already gathering her coat and keys, she shook her head.  “I’m sorry, mija.  Not today.  Come on, we need to go.  I can’t leave you alone at home for that long.”

My nose started to sting.  I didn’t want to sit at school alone for an hour and have to explain to my new friends why I wasn’t on the bus like everyone else.

Carefully watching the interaction, Ransom cleared his throat.  “Mrs. Santos, I would be happy to stay with her until her bus comes.  I’m home on break from Yale for the week and would love nothing more than to get to know your daughter,” he offered, radiating charisma.

“Oh Ransom, I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“Honestly, our house is only a few streets away, so we’re practically neighbors.  It would be no problem.”

She hesitated, glancing from Ransom to her watch. Back home, we didn’t have babysitters. Family played that role.  I couldn’t imagine leaving her 13 year-old home alone with a strange man was high on her list of things to do in the US.

Ransom read the situation well.  “Mrs. Santos, my girlfriend is just at my parents’.  Why don’t I give her a call and the three of us can clean up the kitchen until…,” he motioned at me.

“Olivia,” I snipped.

He didn’t flinch.  “Until Olivia’s bus comes,” he finished with a smile.

“I suppose… that would be alright,” Mamá agreed.  “Your family is so kind!”  Sighing in relief, she snagged me for a kiss goodbye and scurried towards the door.  “Behave, Ol! I’ll see you at dinner,” she shouted over her shoulder.

I listened to the garage door close and turned to find him thumbing through the Harry and David catalogue while dabbing pear juice from his lips with a napkin.  I glared at him for a minute.

“You and your mom are just being nice to my parents because I have a lot of aunts and uncles moving here,” I accused.

He looked up, laughing in surprise.  Nodding his head to the side, he shrugged a shoulder, “You’re not wrong.  Did they tell you that?”

“No, but I can tell.”

A soft ping sounded and he patted his pockets, pulling out a phone from his jacket.  He continued nibbling at the pear until all that was left was the core, then absently dumped it on my abandoned breakfast plate.  I walked closer and peered at the screen in his hands while he typed furiously.

“Do you have any games on your phone?” I asked.

“This isn’t a phone, it’s a Blackberry.”

“Do you have any games on your Blackberry?  Like Snake?  My mom’s phone has Snake.”

“No, it doesn’t have Snake,” he snapped as he pulled a headset from his jacket pocket and plugged it into the headphone jack. Almost immediately it rang and he slipped the earpiece on, pushing me.

“Jackson?”  He sighed at me in irritation and turned away.  “Yeah, come up this weekend.  They’re two Norwegian bitches, semi-professional skiers or something. Super hot.  They’re in the US to train but stopping to vacation in New England or whatever.”  He ran his finger along the wicker of the gift basket while he listened to his friend respond.  With an exasperated sigh, he shook his head.  “No, no, we don’t need to take them sailing for them to put out.”

I stared at him, my jaw dropping.  I knew it was rude to both stare and eavesdrop, but I had never met anyone who was so blatantly awful.

“They’ll fuck us because I’m crazy rich, bro, don’t worry,” Ransom chuckled.  He leaned back against the table and rolled his eyes as his friend prattled on, until his gaze landed on me.  His eyes widened.

“Shit,” he muttered.  “Jax, I’m not alone.  I gotta go.”

He yanked the earpiece off and tossed it on the table, leaning towards me with his elbows on his knees.  

I scowled.  “You don’t really have a girlfriend who’s coming over.”

“Olivia,” he said with a practiced smile that actually reached his beaming eyes.  Ignoring my statement, he took me in for a moment, cataloguing my appearance as his gaze came to rest on my neck.

“That’s such a pretty necklace you’re wearing, did you pick it out yourself?”

My insides tingled a little.  I didn’t like-him-like-him or anything, but he did look like a prince and he had complemented the starfish necklace my parents had given me for my birthday last summer.  It was my favorite.

“It was a present from my mom and dad, from when I turned 13 last year.”

“Christ,” he muttered under his breath.  Something about me being a kid.  I didn’t know what that meant, because he made an angry face. But that quickly went away and then his prince face was back.

“That was my friend Jackson on the phone,” he motioned at his Blackberry with his thumb, “We go to college together.  We joke around a lot,” he chuckled, rubbing my shoulder. “You do that with your friends, too, right?  Tell jokes, mess around?”

Confused and skeptical, I nodded.

“And you don’t always tell those jokes to your parents, because they don’t understand them.  You keep them between you and your friends.”

I raised my brow, trying to look formidable.  “You don���t want me to tell my mom what you were talking about.”

The friendliness in his expression melted away, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards instead.  “Exactly.”

 To this day, I wish I could say I stuck up for myself; that I told my mom how much of a jerk he was.  How he was a deceptive, womanizing liar who didn’t deserve an ounce of our time.  But, I didn’t.  Instead, I stooped to Ransom’s level.

My family had money; my mom was a physician and my dad a senior engineer for GE.  We lived very comfortably.  We had spent several months in the US in an apartment before finding the house, during which they had been earning American salaries and making more than ever.  But, both of my parents came from humble means, sent a lot of money back home to their own parents and grandparents, and did not appreciate the materialism I faced every day at the private school they sent me to.

And Ransom had… a lot of money.  He had made that clear over the phone.  I’m not proud to admit that I requested the Tiffany heart tag bracelet I had seen other girls wearing at school in exchange for my silence.  I’m even less proud that, after scoffing at my proposal, Ransom walked me right past the Tiffany & Co. on Newbury Street and in to Cartier and had me pick out a bracelet there instead.  He said he hadn’t bought Tiffany for a girl since he was my age and that he wasn’t lowering himself.  I still have the bracelet buried in my jewelry box, though I never put it on.  Considering its origins, it feels dirty to wear, but I can’t bear to part with it.

 Boston, 2007

 In 2007, we found out my dad had a mistress.  He had paid for her to move over from PR and had been supporting her in Boston for two years.  That would’ve flown in PR, but in the US, my mom’s friends wouldn’t stand for it. (Especially the female divorce lawyer next door.)  That was more or less the end of my dad’s presence in my life.  There’s a chance he might walk me down the aisle one day, but that’s only if Mamá insists on a super Catholic wedding.  

My dad leaving didn’t affect me like it did my mom and Gian. I had my friends and tennis, but Gian was younger and quieter; he and my dad spent a lot of time with little robot projects and those LEGO sets and I could tell he missed him.  Mamá was lonely at home, too; she and my dad had been together since high school.  She had spent a lot of time taking care of him, despite her working 60 hour weeks.

A few of my dad’s sisters hung around as moral support, but Papá eventually pressured them until they stopped coming to see us.  However, there was an additional isolated party within our vicinity who also needed a group of humans to latch onto; someone with the capacity to fill the role of both quasi-paternal figure (figure, not role model), and platonic spouse.

I’d seen Ransom with Mrs. Drysdale; at best, she spoiled her son.  At worst, she placated him with money, demeaned and dismissed him.  Even I didn’t appreciate how she treated him and most days I didn’t like him.  After graduating last in his class from Yale, Ransom took the year off to get away from her. Not a normal “take the year off” where you travel to learn about yourself, or work, or anything like that. Instead, Ransom bought property in the Maldives and imported $500,000 worth of Dom Perignon—the Rose Gold kind—, and flew in ballerinas from Moscow while telling his mom he was joining the Peace Corps for a girl.  When there was fraud on his black AmEx and he had to phone home for help, there was hell to pay when the call came from not Mongolia.  Linda cut him off and kicked him out.

For six months, but still.  This was Ransom.

My mother, bless her heart, would have absorbed all children needing a home if she could.  And, though he was 21, Ransom definitely qualified as such a child.  I honestly think Ransom needed the mothering, too. Growing up with a nanny paid to give you care is not a replication of a mother’s love, which he never had in the first place.

Ransom always showered Mamá with attention, asking how she was with utter sincerity while maintaining direct eye contact, thanking her for the work she did as a cardiac surgeon, and other general sycophantic niceties.  I was terrified that would change for the worst after he moved in, despite their generous age gap.  A freshly divorced woman could’ve been new prey for him.  It wasn’t that she didn’t know who and what he was—she was under no illusions.  But she had a soft spot for the broken bad boy with mommy issues and indulged him.

I watched him like a hawk when he was around her, but he never made a move.  He certainly let her wait on him; she cooked him food from scratch and listened to him talk while she cleaned up the kitchen, but he was never salacious.  I still give him props for that.  It would have been an entertaining game for him, one he would’ve easily won.  

It helped that he was gone half the time.  He still had his car, keys to the Hamptons house and access to his friends’ jets and properties.   I’m pretty sure Richard was also slipping him $50k a month because Ransom rebuilt his wardrobe pretty quickly.

I will admit I was slightly… antagonistic towards him during the beginning of his time with us.  I may have picked a few fights.  He wanted to watch Sin City because of Jessica Alba; I wanted to watch the Corpse Bride.  He left questionable-looking hair trimmings in the shower drain and you can bet I was pounding on his door.  He gave me that look when I thought I had dressed nicely, and I may or may not have launched myself at him.  But, near the middle of his stay, we learned to co-exist, and even had some decent conversations.  I chilled out when I saw how he was with Gian.  

I’m not sure Mamá ever officially asked Ransom to step up while he was living with us, I think the only conditions she had was that he tip the cleaning people an extra $150 for how bad his room was, not have his douchey friends over past 10pm, and no sleepovers with the opposite sex.  But, it was obvious to everyone under our roof that Gian looked to Ransom for companionship.  And, to my utter surprise, Ransom kind of delivered.  He took Gian to the U.S. Open and up to Lake Champlain to golf a few times, and they’d hang out at the house when Ransom was home.  

Then, one day I heard him call Gian his charity project to his friends as they sat out on the porch.  The second he came inside I punched him in the arm over that.  The weirdest part about Ransom and his awful behavior is that he only kinds of means it.  I mean, the idea was there, he had had the thought that Gian was less fortunate than him and needed his help.  But I also know he genuinely loved my little brother and was making spending time with him out to be a bigger deal than it really was.

Six months to the day, Ransom had a moving company at our doorstep at 8am sharp.  He only had a few hanging wardrobes worth of clothes to move into his new apartment; all of the furniture was being delivered by the dealer, but the man couldn’t lower himself to drive his own U-Haul.  By that time, I had developed an appreciation for Ransom.  It was kind of nice to have someone older to talk to, even though he had no conception of what real life was like.  He was okay.  I didn’t miss sharing a dwelling space with him, but I did kind of miss him.

 Boston, Fall 2009

 That fall, I was 18 and a senior at the Winsor School and Ransom was 25 and bullshitting his way through his Master’s of Science in Business Analytics at Princeton.  I preferred not to ask questions regarding his attendance or grades.  I figured the less I knew, the less I could be implicated in some scandal involving the university and bribery.

High school wasn’t a great time in my life. The kids at Winsor were spoiled and came from generations of overachievers.  You could say there were a lot of Ransoms, I suppose; self-serving, arrogant, brutal, conceited, rich kids.  I’m not saying I didn’t share some of those traits, I knew I was fortunate, but I liked to think I was a decent person.  As a result, I was relatively lonely.  I had the varsity tennis team, and that fit my basic  need for socialization.  But not once did I ever entertain the thought of a boyfriend.

As the years progressed, I waited for the mutual attraction for my peers to arrive.  It never did. At that age, even if boys had adopted the air of sophistication they had seen modeled at home and had the ability to charm, they severely lacked in a different department, like intelligence or maturity.  I shut down every advance without a second thought and didn’t look back.

Until, that is, my Senior year.  As leaving home was becoming a reality, I decided I didn’t want to go to college a virgin.  I just didn’t.  Things happen in college, things you don’t always have control over, and I liked control.  I liked control very much.  And I wanted to have control over when and how I gave it up.  And I wasn’t giving it up to some 18 year old I had dated for a three months who couldn’t kiss and also didn’t have the experience to help me enjoy the process.

But I knew someone who did.

I smirked as a key sounded in the lock, Ransom had never given his back from a few years ago.

“Ol?” his voice echoed up the stairs.

“In the kitchen!”

The old stairs creaked as he ascended, heading straight for the refrigerator without even looking at me.

“Hey,” he nodded in greeting.

“Hey.”  For the first time in my life, I was nervous talking to him.  I’d texted him, asking if he could stop by, which wasn’t out of character.  He usually popped in at least once a month to return a book, pick up a sweater he forgot that my mom had washed or have dinner with us.  He lingered, even after moving out.  The flight from Princeton to Boston was only an hour, and it meant a lot to Gian, to all of us, really, that Ransom still visited.

While Ransom dug through the fridge, pulling out some leftover chorizo, I set about throwing together some protein smoothies for us.  He had left a container of ridiculously expensive something something collagen protein at our house the last time he was there and it was expiring soon, so I split the remainder between us.  Out of the corner of my eye I saw him fuss with the microwave.

I raised a brow.  “You know how to use kitchen appliances?”

He took an exaggerated bite of a sausage slice. “Selectively,” he winked.

I bit my cheek to keep from laughing.  Ransom’s “selective” helplessness didn’t need encouragement.

I think what we worked in was companionable silence, but I’m not positive.  I was pretty geared up, so it was hard to tell.  Settling at the table, I laid plates out for both of us, chewing my lip.

“I have a favor to ask.”

“I can’t get you into Yale early decision, but I can get you in,” he said as he reached for his smoothie.

I rolled my eyes.  “I’ve already gotten into Brown on my own, which was my first choice, thank you. What I need is… different.”

“What is it?  I’ve got cash with me.”

“Ransom!  Listen to me. Just let me ask my question.”

“Okay!” he chuckled, his eyes gleaming as he swirled his glass.

“Okay,” I repeated, my heart pounding in my chest. I made myself look him in the eye. All of a sudden I wanted to cry? What if he said no?  What if he laughed?  What if he never talked to me again?

“Ol, you’re getting pale.  You look like you’re about to ask me to skin a cat.”

“Shut up,” I grumbled, seconds away from losing my nerve. I inhaled deeply, folding my hands on the table in front of me and sitting up straight.

“Ransom,” I began.

“Olivia,” he countered, his face comically serious.

“I want you to take my virginity.  Now that I’m 18—.”

“Hah—You what?  No you don’t, Olivia, you don’t—.”

“I do.”

“Ehhhh,” he made a pained face and shook his head.  “I mean, what do you mean by virginy? What have you done before?”

“Nothing.”

“But you’ve given head though, right?”

I tried to mask my embarrassment with a look of disdain.

When Ransom gaped in surprise, I kicked him under the table.

“A handjob?”

“I said nothing,” I bit out.

The corner of his mouth pulled upward and he tilted his head, his eyes narrowing.  “What about like… getting off with each other?”

I shook my head.  

“Sexting?”

“There’s no one I want to sext.”

He sighed and rubbed his eyes.

“But like…”

“I’ve never touched or been touched, Ransom.  I’ve never seen a man naked, okay?”

He sighed.  “I don’t do virgins.  It’s a personal policy.  Especially someone like you who has absolutely no experience.”

That stung, but I kept trying.  “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No—.”

“Are you dating anyone?”

“Ol, I don’t date—.”

“Ransom, this is exactly the type of arrangement you want!” I hissed.

“This should be something you do with a boyfriend, someone your age who you care about and who cares about you.”

I groaned and stormed into the living room, plopping into an easy chair.  

“I don’t want a boyfriend.  I’m going to Brown in the fall, so dating someone now would be pointless. And in Providence, between Chi Omega, studying, volunteering, and AMSA, I just won’t have time for a relationship.”

Ransom couldn’t suppress a laugh as he tailed after me.  “You’re as heartless as I am.”

“I’m not heartless,” I argued.  “I’m practical.”

He gave me a patronizing smile.  “You’ve never done this before, you don’t know how you’ll feel afterwards.  It’s sex. Girls get attached.  I just can’t do that, babe.”

"You can!  Ransom, you can.  I won’t get attached.  I’ll leave you alone after.  I won’t text you for a month.  Please? I—,” my cheeks flamed as I looked down at my hands.  Bickering and bantering with Ransom was easy.  Acting like I disliked him was easy.  But being vulnerable with him?  That was terrifying.  “I want it to be you,” I whispered.  “I don’t trust anyone else.”

With a sigh, he perched on the arm of my chair.

“I’m going back to Princeton on Sunday.  Even if we did it tonight, we wouldn’t have 48 hours together.”

“I don’t care!” I slapped the seat of the chair. “What if—what if I get roofied and lose it to some guy and don’t even remember it?  Or—or someone, you know… one in every four women faces sexual assault in college…”

That perpetual, devious gleam in Ransom’s eyes disappeared.  Something brutal and vicious replaced it.

  “I’d kill him.  I’d kill anyone who touched you like that.”

My chest tightened.  I’d never seen him that serious before, not even when he argued with his mom.  It was a little terrifying.  But, I had carried pepper spray on me for years since moving to the city and I already knew my parents were sending me to college with a SipChip, not that I’d be going to parties anyway.  I tried another angle.

  “I know I’m not the girls you normally sleep with—blonde, white, with yachts and horses and trust funds—

Darkness cast over his face.

“Olivia,” he interrupted.  Brow creasing, Ransom lifted his hand near my face, then hesitated. With a growl, he cupped my jaw. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, brushing the knuckle of the opposite hand against my cheek.  “And trust funds are so mundane.”

I rose from the chair and leaned against his leg. “Then why don’t you want me?”  It took everything in me to keep my voice from breaking.

Ransom shifted uneasily, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Ol, I’ve known you since you were a kid.  I can’t—I just don’t see you that way.”

“You still see me as a child?”

“I guess, yeah.”

Butterflies flapped madly in my belly, but I held my breath and stepped forward between his legs until our chests were pressed together, trapping my hand between us at his groin.  Praying that I applied what I had read correctly, I timidly felt for his cock. He grunted when I wrapped my hand around the outline of its shape and followed it with a shy stroke.

“I am not a child,” I husked in my best seductress voice.

“You said you’d never touched or been touched,” he accused through clenched teeth.

Both proud and embarrassed, I ducked my head. “I don’t like entering a situation unprepared.  I read a lot and watched some videos.”  Realizing the implications of my statement, I turned beet red.  “For research, I mean!”

That earned me a genuine smile.  Sliding one hand around my waist he pulled me closer, then used the other to firmly guide my palm over his half erect cock, rubbing it back and forth.  I blushed as I felt him harden under my fingers.

“What else did you research?”

"Stuff,” I mumbled.

Rubbing his thumb along my hipbone, his gaze fell to his lap, watching my hand work over his erection.  Then his eyes deviated to my front, trailing up my belly to my chest, which was, admittedly, heaving, and slowly made their way to my face. Looking someone in the eye had never made me clench down there before.  It was unexpected, but not unappreciated.

I could see Ransom thinking, his eyes flicking back and forth between mine as he reasoned with himself.

“You need to think this over, you need to really consider what you’re asking me and decide that’s what you want,” he murmured, his voice rough.

My pussy throbbed at the sound, and it took extra concentration not to let my eyes close.

“When have I ever made a rash decision about something this important?  I started thinking about this a year ago.”

He exhaled a laugh, shaking his head.  “Of course you did.”

When his hips gave an involuntary thrust against my palm, he gently pulled my wrist away.

“That’s enough for now.”

Tears pricked at the corner of my eyes.  “Did I do it wrong?  Is that a no?”

He massaged his closed eyelids with his index finger and thumb, exhaling shakily.  “It should be a no.  A good man would say no.”  

Drawing me against him once more, I whimpered as he ground his cock against my belly.  “But I’ve never been a good man, have I, Olivia?”

He didn’t give me an opportunity to respond. The kiss was firm, but delicate. No tongues or biting or slipping or sliding, just lips pressed together, gently massaging.  When he sucked at my lower lip I surprised both of us with a soft moan, causing him to bury his hand in my hair and tilt my head for better access.

I completely lost track of everything, because the next moment of consciousness I had was gasping for air as he pulled away. My fingers were tangled in his hair, my hand clutching his sweater like it was a lifeline, and his thigh was situated between both of mine, applying pressure to my clit that was making me see stars.  Now my mouth was wet, but I didn’t care.

Once I could see straight, I dove for his mouth again, but he stopped me with an unyielding grip on my chin.

“Change,” he rumbled.  “We’ll go to dinner at Menton, I’ll pull some strings and get us a table.  Then back to my apartment.”

I squinted, still reeling from the kiss. “We’re not going to Menton first, that makes it sound like a date.  This isn’t a date, we have one mission to accompli—.”

He gaze grew cold.  “If we do this, we’re doing it my way.  You’re going to listen to me.  I’m in charge.”

My eyes flicked back and forth between his as my entire face and neck glowed pink.  

“Okay,” I whispered.

“Say ‘Yes, sir,’” he corrected me.

“Yes, sir,” I repeated softly.

The pleased smile that spread across his lips gave me a warm feeling in my belly.

“Tonight, I’m going to destroy your pussy,” he whispered against my ear, sucking at my lobe, “I’m going to make you come like a whore.”  Moving to my other side, he spoke softly again, his warm breath against my cheek making me shiver.  “Your future husband will resent me for the rest of your lives, because I’m going to ruin you for any other man.”  Nuzzling my nose with the tip of his, he kissed the corner of my mouth.  “And you’re going to love it.”

I couldn’t help myself.  I was throbbing, there was pressure building in my belly and the man had barely laid a hand on me.  With a high pitched whimper, I sought his mouth again, but he wrapped his huge hand around my throat and shook his head as he held me back.

“Go.  Pick out something nice to wear.  Something you feel pretty in.”

Mouth dry, I nodded.  He caught my arm as I went to leave.

“And Olivia?  Not a scrap of clothing underneath.”

[diddlesanddoodles]

Dumpling ch. 21

Nenani watched Farris as he worked from her perch. She’d been relegated to a top shelf where she could not get into trouble and Farris could watch her. The King had left earlier with Jae and though Nenani was a little disappointed at not being able to say anything to her friend. she had a sense that things were going to get better for Jae. She took solace in that. Tinking back to the conversation that Farris and Lolly had been having earlier in the day about Farris deciding to keep her and with Jae and the King’s private reconciliation still fresh in her mind, Nenani found herself curious.    

“Can I ask you a question?” she asked the spice master as he poured a measure of leaves and salt into a mortar and pestle.

“Ya can ask as many as ya want,” He replied, not looking up from his task. He took the stone pestle in one hand and began to crush the ingredients together. “But I won’t be promisin’ t’answer any of ‘em.”

“What would have happened to me if you didn’t keep me?”

Farris’s hand paused and he glanced at her from the corner of his eye before resuming his work.

“Keral would’a taken ya to the Hill tribes. A few miles from here. S’where most a’ the human refugees that come our way go. Not many want anything t’do with us Vhasshalans, but they’ll take our charity if it means a safe place to live and full bellies.”

She pulled at the hem of her sleeve, trying to find the right way to phrase her next question. “So, why...why did you keep me?”

“Hm. I didn’t have it m’mind to when Yale first brought ya t’me,” he said. “Just another lost and hungry lil’ human like so many before ya. Then ya got the reap...”

He stopped and put his hands on the table, staring into the mortar’s bowl until he finally looked at her fully, his expression enigmatic.

“Yer not my first ward, Dumplin’,” he told her. “There was another.”

“I’m not?” she asked.

“Kent was m’first,” Farris explained. “The war had been over fer about a year or so. Things were startin’ to find some sort of calm again. The King had outlaws eatin’ humans, but as ya probably figured...not everyone wanted t’give it up. ‘Specially since food was still scarce in many places. Word got around that some bastards had a stash of captive Silvaaran soldiers they were auctioning off as meat in some shit hole near Dornbey market. Keral took some of his boys and busted the group. One of the soldiers they rescued was Kent. Sorry bastard was all beat t’bits.  Been smashed in the face at some point and infection had taken his sight. Yaesha treated him here best he knew how, but there wasn’t nothin’ he could do to give his eyes back. He couldn’t walk very well, either. Some old inury to ‘is leg left ‘im almost lame.”

Farris paused, mulling his words over.

“I got to thinkin’… Maevis’s been lookin’ after Barnaby and the King had taken Jae in by then. Thought I might do some good and give the poor sod a safe place till then end found ‘im, whenever that was. He’d be right useless to the Hill tribes in that state. Couldn’t work fer shit and had no other real skill doin’ much else. He’d be a burden to ‘em and I took pity on th’ poor bastard.”

For a moment, she could see the hurt in his face. Farris has never expressed anything close to pain, but Nenani had no trouble recognizing it in his eyes.

“He was a good man,” Farris said, voice on the verge of breaking. “Better than most folks I’ve ever known. Forgivin’ to a fault. Didn’t blame a soul for what had happened to him or to his family or to his country. Pissed me off t’be honest, but I think he was so grateful to be alive...well. He was m’ good friend for many years.” He paused. “But he got sick. The red reap. He didn’t suffer long. It was quick.”

Nenani chewed on her lip. “I’m sorry...”

The forlorn look in Farris’s eyes as he spoke of Kent faded and looked at her with a faintly amused smile.

“Then a few years on, Yale brings me this thieving little urchin, scrawny and pathetic, and tells me half of my persimmon order’s been pilfered,” he said, walking around the table and stepping closer to her shelf. He took the end of her braided hair between two fingers and ever so gently tugged on it. Nenani broke into smile, pushing at his fingers to try and reclaim her braid. He poked her in the belly playfully and his smile widening as she giggled. “So I put the fear into ya like we do with all them humans who try to come and steal from us...and then went ya got the red reap yerself.”

The sadness returned, “I thought ya might go just as quick as Kent did.”

He brushed a finger lightly across her cheek, affectionately. His eyes seemed to burn bright as she watched his face and he looked oddly proud. “But ya fought it and lived. Don’t know if ya realize just how much of a miracle that is, lass. So, when it was obvious ya were gonna pull through, I decided I wanted to keep ya. That I would watch over ya and give ya place t’call home.”

She felt her throat tighten and she held onto his finger when he would have pulled away. Bending down, she pressed her forehead into the warmth of his hand in the best approximation of a hug that she could manage.

“T-thank you...for deciding to keep me.”

Farris smiled and huffed a small laugh, turning away from her to back to his work. “Yer welcome, Dumplin’.”

……………………...

It had been a nice and quiet morning. Most of the staff were inside going about their work while Bart and Gjerk were chopping firewood. Or a more accurate description would be that Bart was chopping wood and Gjerk was doing his best. The younger worker was a few heads shorter than Bart and did not have near the muscles or sheer mass as him nor the years. He and Herit were the smallest and youngest of the staff and struggled the most with their work. Gjerk was taller than Herit by a bit, but was as lanky and thick as an oak tree yearling. While Bart swung his tool with grace and precision, Gjerk’s motions with his own were more jerky and seemed to have more hope and wishes behind it than muscle or practiced skill. Despite the chill, both of them wore no coats, but instead had added long sleeved shirts they wore beneath their usual tunics. Their idea of cold was far different than a human’s.

Nenani was only vaguely aware of the two giants as she occupied herself with making a snowman. It had not snowed very much so it was a small snowman, but she had managed to make it about two feet tall. Rummaging around the edges of the courtyard looking for rocks for the eyes and mouth, she had found two twigs and used them for arms.

She was making her way back to her small creation with a small collection of stones when she heard Bart yell.

“Dammit boy! Yer gonna lose a fuckin’ foot at this rate!” Bart snarled as he reached out and took the ax from the younger giant’s grip, looking at it with a frown. “Well, no fuckin’ wonder ya can’t split a damn log fer shit. What’er ya doin’ with an ax? Where’s yer splittin’ maul, boy?”

“Uh...a maul?” asked Gjerk, looking flustered. His face was flush from the cold, making his freckles stand out all the more.

Bart glowered and rolled his eyes. “‘What’s a maul’, he says. What’s a maul. This!” Bart held up his ax – er, maul. “This is a maul. It’s made fer splitting wood.”

He held both tools together in front of Gjerk. “See the difference now?”

Each looked very similar from the side, but one was much thicker, not blade-like at all, and the other was a thin and curved blade.  

“Y-yes, I see now,” Gjerk replied.

“Good. Now go get yerself a fuckin’ maul and put this back,” Bart replied gruffly. “And hurry back!”

Nenani finished putting the smile on her snowman and stood back to admire her work. A thick sprinkling of snow abruptly fell onto her head, startling her. She yelped in surprise, more from the shock of the cold snow hitting her bare skin and looked up as Saen walked passed her with a heavy sack of flour over one shoulder. He was grinning down at her and stuck out his tongue in response to her baffled expression.

He was almost to the stone archway when something small and very cold hit the back of his neck and slipped down into his shirt. He squawked indignantly and floundered as the small, but very cold, piece of ice trailed down his back. The giant whirled around to stare at Nenani as she dusted her hands clean of snow, looking smug.

“Oh yeah,” Saen replied with a crooked smirk. “Forgot about that arm of yer’s.”

She grinned as she leaned down to scoop up a large handful of snow.

“Okay, okay!” Saen replied, scuttling into the safety of the dark entryway. “I’m goin’!”

Nenani laughed quietly to herself and let the snowball drop back to the ground before retrieving a few of the rocks beside her feet. When she pulled herself back up, Bart glanced her way with one eyebrow raised in question.

“Ya an icicle yet, Dumplin’?” he asked, a vague smile playing on his lips.

Nenani brushed the snow from her coat and adjusted the knitted scarf wrapped around her neck and shoulders. “Only a little,” she admitted.

“Well go inside and thaw,” he said, tossing his head towards the stone archway, and then returning his focus back to the wood pile and the logs waiting to be split. “Tell Herit to come get these logs. Quinn’ll be gettin’ pissy if his ovens start coolin’.”

“Okay.”

The sound of stomping boots, a great many of them, echoed through the courtyard and both Nenani and Bart looked up. Along the top walls of the courtyard was a walkway and several guards were rushing down them and taking up positions there. A good many of them were armed with halberds and pikes. They were all looking upwards into the gray sky. Nenani followed their line of sight and she starred at an odd black spec that was swirling about in an odd pattern high in the air above the castle.

“What the blazes is goin’ on?” Bart hollered up at the guard closest to him.

The guard, dressed in his boiled red leather armor and black metal helmet, leaned down over the rail and yelled back a single word. “Wyvern.”

Nenani had never seen Bart express anything close to fear in the short time she had known the giant. His head swiveled around to Nenani, an alarming intensity to his eyes. “Inside. Now.”

“What’s a wyvern?” She asked, but jumped in alarm when Bart yelled over her.

“INSIDE. NOW!” She dropped the few rocks that she had in her hands and ran for the stone archway just as Farris, Yale, and Saen were coming up to peek out, having heard the chorus of guards.

“What is it?” Farris asked, his posture stiff and his eyes narrowed. “Bart?”

“Wyvern,” said Bart as he circled around the courtyard with slow strides, his eyes never leaving the sky. He brandished the maul in his hand like a weapon.

“Fuck,” Saen muttered. “The hell is one a’them doin’ out at this time of year?”

Nenani reached the archway and stood next to Yale’s boot, peeking out at Bart curiously.

“What’s a wyvern?” she asked, looking up at Yale.

“Big lizard with wings,” Yale muttered, arching his neck to try and spy where the wyvern was in the sky. “Nasty buggers.”

Farris glanced down at her. “Get inside, Nenani. And not just in the doorway. Inside proper, understand?”

“O-okay,” she replied and turned to hop down the small set of stairs. Giant stairs weren’t so bad going down, it was climbing up them that got exhausting fast. Once inside, she scurried down along the wall towards Kol and Quinn’s station who had stopped their work to watch the doorway.

“Did he say wyvern?” Quinn asked her as she made her way under the table. He sounded worried.

She nodded, leaning around one of the table legs and finding herself feeling very unsettled at the fact that that single word was making so many of the giants around her nervous.

“A-are they like dragons?” she asked.

Kol barked a humorless laugh. “If we had a dragon bearing down on us, we’d be under that table with ya, Dumplin’. Nah, wyverns are a lot smaller, but they’re still dangerous. Big jaws. Big teeth. Small brains.”

“Yeah,” Quinn agreed. “They’re also supposed to be hibernatin’ this time a’ year too. And be buggaring about several dozens of leagues away from Vhasshal!”

“It’s probably sick or dying,” Avery tossed in his opinion from the other side of the kitchen. “Preferably it’ll be gettin’ on with it before long and before it comes near us.”

“Maybe it’ll croak and just drop outta the sky,” Kol suggested in a paltry attempt to bring a douse of levity to the room. “A wyvern skull would look pretty magnificent above the hearth, eh? Maybe get Keral to carve it some? Remember that Boar’s skull he did up a few years back fer the King’s birthday?”

“You ever smell a dead wyvern, Kol?” Avery asked, curling his nose. “If ya think lippers have a right stink on ‘em ya really don’t wanna be smellin’ a wyvern carcass up close.”

“And how would ya know what a wyvern carcass smells like?”

“M’Dad killed one when I was a kid,” Avery replied. “Stank up the whole fuckin’ valley. Mum whined about it fer a month.”

Nenani clutched the wooden table leg, letting their conversation drift above her. It felt odd to know that above her head were a dozen armed guards, giant armed guards, but more concerning was the creature above all of them. With it being as high as it was, it was impossible to gauge its actual size, but if the giants were worried, she took it to mean that it would be very advisable for her to be as well.

“What are you suppose to do?” Nenani asked. “When a wyvern comes, I mean.”

“Exactly what we’re doin’ now,” Quinn replied. “Grab yer biggest and meanest, give ‘em big sticks, and shove ‘em outside.”

“So...we just wait?” Nenani asked.

Quinn knelt down beside her, rubbing a knuckle against her back. “Yer safe in here, lil’un. Avery’s probably right. A wyvern out here in this cold? It’s gotta be on it’s last legs. If it does come close, the guards will have no trouble takin’ it down.”

“O-okay,” she replied.

A low groaning sound reverberated through the room, sending out a wave of vibrations that sent glass and ceramic clinking together. From outside, there came a chorus of yells. Then the air cracked with a horrendously loud roar and a blast of air shot through the doorway, blowing in snow and dirt. Avery, being in the air’s direct path, was pushed back against the hearth. He desperately grabbed the hearth’s mantle to keep from being thrown backwards into the blazing fire. Nenani was pushed back as well, falling onto her backside, and slid a few feet. Quinn managed to keep on his feet, but only just, and Kol had braced himself against the table. A bowl of proofing dough dropped from the table and shattered and several tools went flying.

“FUCKING HELLS!” Avery bellowed, scrambling away from the fire and swiping at his backside, and checking his hands for soot or signs that he was smoldering. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Any expostulations of their shock was drowned by yells from outside and the undeniable sound of something very large crashing into the walls accompanied by a guttural and feral growling far too animalistic to have come from a person. Quinn and Kol ran for the entry way and Avery was not too far behind them.

Nenani found herself all alone in the kitchen.

Belatedly, she ran after the three kitchen workers, but stopped just short of the door way, not feeling brave enough to see what lay beyond the stone walls. She could hear the scuffles and yells and the sound of something large flapping around and smashing into the ground and castle walls. She concentrated on trying to discern the individual voices, trying to pick out those of the kitchen staff. She could hear Farris, but the other voices were too muddled for her to pick them out or what any of them were saying.

It was then that she noticed the smoke.

Worried that something might have disturbed the cooking fire and was burning, she turned and saw a thin plum of smoke curing up from the top of the hearth as though the chimney were blocked. The smoke swirled in the air in an odd pattern, behaving unlike any smoke Nenani had ever seen. It began to fall as though it were struck with sudden weight, landing smoothly before the fire and swirling around and around in a tall spiral…

...and began to take the form of a person.

The sounds from outside were drowned out from Nenani’s mind as she watched in horror as a person emerged, full bodied, from the smoke. A familiar stag head skull stared at her, two red pin pricks of light illuminating the sockets and focusing in on her. At his side, clutched in his hand, was a sword.

“Beautiful chaos,” said the man, his voice like gravel crunching together. He took a step towards her and then another. He raised his free hand, gesturing to her. “The river runs uphill...”

She took a step back, never taking her eyes off the man. So many questions were rushing through her head, but she was struck with an undeniable truth: this man was dangerous. She knew it instinctively.

“Who are you?” she squeaked, pulling at her scarf.

“...to the dying songs of the fall of fools and Kings...” He ignored her question and simply took another step, chanting his nonsense. His sword, colored black as though covered with a fine sheen of soot and ash, swept up into an arch. Flecks of black broke off from it and flew about the air like dark snow.

The room smelled of smolder and ash.

“What do you want?” she asked, the fear clear in her voice. She was alone and even if she called for help, she knew there was no chance that anyone outside could hear her. Her dream was vivid in her mind and there the man was, fully realized and present as the floor beneath her feet. But it was not possible. He was impossible…

“...that tear flesh from bone and the crown from the mountain...” He held his arms wide as though his words held great meaning, but she could not make sense of anything he was saying. Mountains and rivers and blood and kings, she understood nothing of it.  

Nenani back peddled several more steps, her heart hammering in her chest. “Leave me alone!”

“Water runs red with fire,” he said, voice falling an octave and the red of his eyes seemed to brighten, “...and shall rise when the old blood runs new.”

When the old blood runs new. That phrase, for whatever reason, sent a wave of dread through her body and into her bones. She turned and ran.

“The flesh taken will be paid in blood...”

The curtain to the barracks was pulled closed so she slipped under the heavy fabric and scrambled underneath. The room was dark, the lanterns unlit, but she could make out the darkened shapes of the bunks with what little light there was. She ran for Yale’s empty bunk, but in the near all consuming darkness, she failed to see the materializing form in front of her. She slammed into it. The smoke man’s voice spoke from above her. “...and the dead walls will rise with gold.”

Nenani saw the flash of metal as it swung down. She screamed as the world behind her exploded. Wood splinters flew through the air, pieces of ceramic and glass rained down, and the large body of the wyvern convulsed as it struggled inside the kitchen that suddenly seemed much smaller. Its wings flapped awkwardly, knocking down shelves and hanging pots and pans and knives from the walls. Its great head swept side to side as though seeking something out.

Nenani sat up from the ground, not remembering how she came to be lying near the hearth, to see the great head turn down to her and she couldn’t see anything beyond its gaping mouth, filled with teeth longer than she was tall.

Before her mind could understand what was happening, she was up and running down the wyvern’s side, away from its mouth, and towards the door to the courtyard. Guards were cluttering up the entryway. One of them brandished a pike and he lunged at the wyvern with a wild yell. Nenani scurried to the wall and pressed herself against it. The metal pike made contact with the great lizard’s side, but only scrapped down the thick scales. More guards were rushing into the all too cramped space. They bore their weapons and snarled and yelled and stomped.

The noise was deafening.

Nenani was frozen to her spot, mind blank, and unable to move. She was vaguely aware of the sensation of something dripping down her forehead, but ignored it as she watched the guards fling themselves and their weapons at the wyvern.  

The wyvern seemed to decide it no longer liked being in the tight confines of the kitchen and whirled around, knocking into several guards and pushing one into the hearth fire. The unfortunate giant was quick to roll out and a fellow guard started to slap out the flames. The great lizard pushed the rest of the guards aside with a flick of its tail and hind leg. Nenani watched it writhe and struggle into the door. The beast hauled its body through, tail wiping around and throwing what remained of the long table against the wall towards Nenani. She watched the massive wall of splintered wood screech towards her and braced herself. She heard a loud clang of metal, her mouth was filled with the bitter and acrid taste of ash, and then everything went dark and quiet.

……………………….

“What do you see?”

“Nothing.”

“Come now,” her uncle told her. “What do you see?”

“The water.”

“And what is it about the water that you see?”

“The moon’s reflection.”

“Right. We see by the moon’s light. So, what do you see?”

“...I don’t see anything,” she replied disheartened. “D-does that make me a bad sailor?”

Her uncle smiled and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. It was warm and comforting. Safe. “No, it doesn’t.” A pause. “Not being able to sail makes you a bad sailor.”

Nenani made a face and her uncle laughed.

………………………….

“Nenani? Can ya hear me?” a voice was speaking, but it sounded as though she were underwater and the voice was muffled and far off sounding. The voice continued to call to her and slowly the voice grew in volume as though she were surfacing and all at once she could hear everything fresh and crisp.

And there was chaos.

Guards were yelling, she could hear Bart hollering and then there was the roar of the wyvern and everything shook with the force of it. She abruptly came to a start and full awareness and sat up coughing. Her head swam and she reached out to brace herself and found her hand meeting the meaty flesh of a giant palm. Gjerk had her cradled in his arms and was huddled off to one side of the courtyard behind a stack of salted Lipper barrels. She could smell the pungent stink faintly in the chilly air.

“Easy,” Gjerk cautioned. “You got a nasty bump on yer noggin’. It’s not bleeding anymore, but ya need to keep still.” He laughed in relief, his eyes were watering. “Gods above, it’s a miracle ya ain’t in pieces. That ash bucket right saved ya from bein’ crushed, I’d say. Though you’ll be needed a good scrub down after this I suspect.”

Her face and hands and clothes were covered in black sooty ash and it lingered in her mouth as a disgusting mud that she spat out between bouts of coughing, trying to clear her airways and mouth of the fowl muck.

“Wha...where is...are...” her lips were not working properly and she felt ill.

“Just do me a favor a keep breathing, eh?” he requested with a flash of a smile that was clearly forced. She could see it in his eyes that he was terrified and she could even feel the slightly trembling of his arms. “I’d make for the other end of the courtyard, but there’s a giant angry lizard in the way. Best we sit here until they strike it down; or I see a better opening and just let the big fellows do their work.”

“Smoke…?” she asked, fumbling gracelessly over her words. “Smoke...man?”

Gjerk, who had turned his attention back to the ongoing skirmishing, jerked his head back down at her in confusion. “Smoke man? What-?”

His words were consumed by a chorus of yells and just as the young Vhasshalan looked up, something large and red swept in and struck the salt barrels. The world went flying and Nenani felt Gjerk’s arms and presence disappear and she went tumbling over and over until she landed on her front into the dirt and snow, gasping in pain. She struggled to bring air into her lungs and there was an alarming heat building insider her chest. Her already hampered mind was slower still and she starred blankly and uncomprehending at the brown and white and red blobs around her. Her vision cleared after a moment, but was still dominated by the enormous body of the wyvern. It was twice as tall as the tallest of the giants and five times as long, with sinewy tendons stretching along the thin membrane of its wings, colored a mottled brown and orange. Its head was large and angular with finer points of hard edged scales rimming its eyes and mouth. Two thick hind legs leg to strong ankles and clawed feet, talons as long as the blades carried by the guards. It was a nightmare with wings and teeth and a voice that broke the sky.

And the milky white irises of his eyes were looking right at her.

“Nenani!”

Someone was screaming her name. Several someones, she realized. Fear was belatedly building in her gut, but her chest...Gods, her chest was on fire. It was unlike the pain of the fever induced by the Red Reap. This was intense heat without any sense of real pain. Something deep and penetrating, calling from the marrow of her bones and flowing through her heart and lungs and ribs.  

The great head of the beast was closer now and she spotted something atop its head, a quick flash of light on metal. A sword. There was a sword embedded in the wyvern’s forehead. Not a giant’s sword, not it was far too small for that. A human sword. And at once, she could see the small mark on its guard. A tangle of vines, rimmed with thorns.  

She felt the heat building, spreading up to her shoulders, through her veins and build into her palms. The rancid breath of the monster’s opening jaws washed over her in a wave of moist heat. Sensing movement behind her just as the monster bore down on her, she saw a fluttering of maroon robes, a gloved hand slipping beneath her and pulling her away. Maevis pulled her to his chest and she did not recognize the amiable and generous man who had made her tea and wiped away her fretful tears. The man before her was none of those thing. He was hard faced, bitter and angry. He raised his hand up, an orb of brilliant blue swirling in his palm and he slammed it down as the wyvern’s muzzle came into reach, the whole of the beast’s body shivering and it gave a pained wailing howl. It was so close to them that the long teeth ripped into Maevis’s arm, tearing the clothe and his flesh alike. She heard him cry out in pain. Nenani was mere inches from the beast’s long teeth, it’s upper lip only just above her head. With heat surging into her palms, pulling her breath away from her lungs, she reached out with her hands and gripped the rough flesh of the wyver’s upper lip. Everything became a brilliant white and then she knew no more.

………………………………………….

She held onto her her father’s hands as he spun around, flinging her legs into the air and she squealed in delight before he brought her back down to earth. Breathless with mirth, they settled down back onto the driftwood log to enjoy the sound of lapping waves upon the beach. The day was bright and clear and though it was a pity that their boat was docked for the day due to a leak, it was hard to begrudge the rare opportunity for her and her father to spend some time together. Just the two of them. Her uncle would make short work of the repairs and join them later. Her mother had been stricken with a mysterious nausea again and was resting at home.  

She glanced over to her father and then down at the sheathed sword leaning against the log next to him. Her father was the only one in the village to own a sword of such magnificence. Of course others had short swords and daggers, but they were not made of such strong steel or their grips braided with such fine leather. Their guards were bare, broken, or missing. Her father’s sword bore upon its guard a tangle of thorns. She knew it well, but had never actually asked her father about it. The villagers all seem to have deep respect for her father and to an extent her uncle, though he was not an elder.  

“Papa?” she asked.

“Hm?”

“Where did you get your sword?”

Her father was silent, the lingering smile on his face died and he looked over to the sword. He pulled it across his lap, running his hard calloused hands across it. “It was given to me. By my father.”

“Grandfather?” she asked in excitement. She did not know any of her grandparents and any small bit of information was a treat. “Did he make it?”

“No. No, we are not sword-smiths,” he replied with a patient smile. “This emblem here is for the Thorn Guard.”

“Thorn Guard? Like warriors?” she asked with glee and leaped to her feet. She grabbed up a stick and swung at the air, imagining the wood was steal and her homespun clothing were armor. She wheeled around in the sand as she danced. “If we’re guards then what do we guard?”

There was a sad, longing look in his eyes. “We use to guard great halls and noble men of ancient blood. Grand libraries and treasure beyond your wildest dreamings. The hope of a people. Our people.”

Nenani paused, mid swing, and looked at her father. “What happened?”

He regarded her with the same forlorn smile. Indulgent, but pained. “The war, dearheart.”

………………………………

There was a vague sense of pain and the taste of soot in her mouth. Warm flesh beneath her pulsed with the giant’s rapid heart beat and his voice spoke above her, weaving words and phrases into the air. The words mad no sense, but with each phrase, a pressure was building more and more in her skull and she cried out in pain. Gold light burst out from behind her eyes as sound and understanding surrounded her.

“Please, Maevis,” begged a voice, small and breathless with worry. Another was speaking, Maevis, but his words were alien to her ears. “It’s too much. She is too weak.”

The light danced around her eyes in a golden ring, pulsing with each incantation of the incomprehensible words. Maevis broke from his chanting to say, “No. No, I must do this. It must be done. For her sake as much as our own.”

“She’s but a child.”

“All the more reason for it,” he replied. “I should have done something sooner, Barnaby. Gods forgive me, I saw it before, but never would I have believed...”

“I know, my friend, I know.”

“I am so sorry,” came the magician’s voice, pained and choked with tears. “My dear girl. I am so...so sorry.”

He spoke another verse of his strange mantra and her skull ripped open and she saw stars. The warmth of the library was gone and she was standing on the ocean, the night air bit at her face and limbs.

The smell of salt and soot stung her nose. Far off, the sound of metal ringing as it struck against metal pulled her gaze. Two men were fighting aboard her Uncle’s boat as it bobbed in the light swell, their swords red as they caught the fire’s light. Other boats were ablaze and the wind carried off the cries of dying men.

“You cannot save her from this,” the smoke man was saying, swiping at his opponent. “I will not be denied a third time.”

“You will be denied,” her uncle cried, catching the smoke man’s arm and pulling him to the floor. As the smoke man tried to regain his footing, her Uncle brought his sword down and plunged it into the man’s chest. “This time and every other. You have haunted my family all these years, took everything we ever had, and yet still you are here, demanding more!”

“I will have what is mine,” spat the smoke man, his stag skull mask a bright white against the absolute black of his body. “I will see the dead walls rise...”

“You bathe in the blood of thousands,” panted her uncle. “And crown yourself emperor of a mountain of bones. But you are not my King. No King at all...and she will never be yours, no matter how you twist and pull these threads. In this life or the next! She chose Hayron.”

He spat at the downed man.

“I call you demon,” her Uncle said, with palpable vehemence. He pulled out a dagger from his belt. “And for the blood of my father, my king and my people, my dear brother and his wife. I avenge them. For my niece of whom you’ve robbed most of all: I will have this madness end!”

As her Uncle raised his hand to throw the dagger, to end the demon’s life, the black smoke swirling around them gathered around the black mass of the man’s body. His arm reached up and the smoke flew from his fingertips. Vapor became corporeal and the thin finger thick blades struck her Uncle in the chest. Stunned, he released his grip on the hilt of his sword and the dagger fell from his other hand to clatter noisily onto the floor. He staggered back, blood pouring from the corners of his mouth.

Her uncle gave a pitiful, wet cough and fell back.

“I will have what I was been promised,” said the demon as he stood, pulling the sword from his chest with alarming ease. He flung it over the side of the boat and it sunk beneath the dark water. Crimson oozed from the wound and he allowed it to flow freely over his fingers. “For it has been foretold...”

.............................................

Author’s notes continued: Ooooooh my god. We have reached the chapter that I have been agonizing over for a very very long time. I would greatly appreciate any feedback and it if you could leave a comment, I would be so happy. 

[new2fivesauce]

Please Don’t Regret Me - 6. The L in CALM

Please Don’t Regret Me - 6. The L in CALM

Words: 3141

No Warnings.

This feels like a filler chapter instead of what I had intended to be the last. So with that being said, there will be one and final chapter of Please Don’t Regret Me and I hope this one doesn’t suck to much. Thanks!

The early morning’s first rays of sunlight eased their way into Nelle’s LA hotel room. The drum and bass heavy beginning notes of The Black Keys’ Dead and Gone startled Nelle out of her sleep. 

“Fuck” she groaned as she tried to turn her stiff body towards the nightstand where her phone was continuing to play the alarm. Through her hazy and clearly hungover mind, she wondered why she couldn’t move her lower body. It wasn’t until she looked under the covers through groggy eyes to see an arm was holding her down by her waist. Her amber eyes followed the arm to the rest of the body. Luke was turned to her, blonde curls covering his face, light snores excelling from him. She heaved his arm off of her and made haste with shutting off her alarm. Her head was pounding as she got up from the bed. She held onto the nightstand when her body swayed gently, her balance totally askew. It was almost like a Ninja Warrior obstacle course just to get to the bathroom.

Nelle emerged from the bathroom almost an hour later. A towel wrapped around her head, another around her body, her mind now somewhat clearer than it had been when she first opened her eyes. She tiptoed around as she got dressed, brushed the tangles out her hair, and did concealer around her dark circles. Just as she had started packing up her belongings, Luke began to stir in his sleep. She froze mid action while putting last night’s clothes in her luggage. 

She hadn't realized she was holding her breath until he positioned himself into a more comfortable spot. 

Suddenly, Luke startled awake. Nelle jumped and squeaked in surprise but he hadn't seemed to see or hear her. Luke rubbed his eyes quickly, then used his hands to pat the comforter around him. 

"Nelle?" He uttered in complete sadness and confusion, his head hanging down. Nelle cleared her throat and the blond boy in front of her shot his head up so fast he almost hit it on the headboard. He smiled lazily in her direction as he ran a hand through his curls. "Hey." He said. 

Nelle returned the greeting and tried to smile back but she was sure it came out as a grimace. Luke didn't even seem to notice. He was just in awe of the girl who he had spent the night with. Even when she excused herself to gather something from the bathroom, he made sure to keep his eyes on her. It took a few times of Nelle folding clothes and walking around her room for Luke to finally become aware of what was happening.  

"W-what are you doing?" He stuttered. She finished folding a white t-shirt that Luke immediately recognized. She put it down gently on top of a small pile of clothes at the edge of the bed. 

"My flight is at 12. I'm about to head out. Don't worry though, the room is good until two, but if you need it for longer, just call the front desk. My card is on file; It’ll be fine." She said so nonchalantly that Luke could only gape at her. She gestured to the folded clothes. "Change of clothes." She added. "This was still in my suitcase from the last tour."

Luke scoffed. If Nelle heard it, she pretended not to. "I'm returning your Zeppelin shirt too." Her eyes flickered to the white shirt that was on top of the stack. 

When Luke didn't say anything, Nelle took it as her cue to leave. She hated being late, especially to the airport. As she turned to her suitcase, Luke finally spoke. 

"So that's it then?" He questioned, in anger. He wished he hadn't slept naked because he felt this was a conversation he needed to be standing for. He didn't know where his clothes were and he didn't want to seem like a klutz getting out of bed so he stayed put.

Nelle halted just a bit away from the bed and faced the singer.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Isn't that all you wanted?" She knew it wasn’t, but she felt that that was all she could give him at the moment. He was a fucking celebrity and with the release of Youngblood, he was more popular than ever. 

Nelle immediately regretted her comeback as soon as Luke's blue eyes closed and he turned his head away to compose himself. 

"I have to go. I never said I was going to stay." Nelle tried to reason. 

Luke eyed her suspiciously though his eyes looked like glassy orbs through the tears he was struggling to hold in. "So you’re not even going to try to make this work?

“I’m not sure what you’re trying to make work, Luke.” she calmly stated but her hand tightened on the handle of her suitcase. Luke shook his head. “If you have something to say… then just say it. I’m not going to try to figure you out or put words in your mouth.” 

When Luke didn’t say anything, just stared at Nelle with the coldest blue eyes she’s ever seen, she turned away and left.

-----

**3 months later, New York**

The months had passed slowly and drab. Winter always felt so long, so cold, so depressing… If anyone would have told Nelle that after Christmas, New York went from magical to just another cold day, she would have hopped on the first plane to Australia… but no one had and she had missed her chance to visit her family. This wasn’t her first Christmas that she’d gone without spending it with her family, but all those other times, she’d at least had “the boys.” 

She sighed as she waltzed around her kitchen, putting the finishing touches on her and Sasha’s spaghetti dinner. Sasha would come prancing in any minute now from yet another photo shoot. Nelle had kept busy since returning from tour with her online Yale classes, a few small side jobs as a book intern, manager at a coffee cafe, and a PA at several various businesses, but nothing ever stuck. She wasn’t going to lie… she missed the touring. She thought retirement from the music world would be relief. Now all she had was this itch to zoom to and from places, literally schedule everything down to Michael’s next breath, use her customer service voice on asshats who thought they knew better, and best of all, spending every second of her time with four of the noisiest, fartiest, annoyingest boys.

Her thoughts lingered on Luke for a brief moment. She tried not to think too much about him. After leaving him naked in LA, they had shared a few intense, mostly one word, text messages and then zilch. He couldn’t find the words to express his feelings, which confounded Nelle because he was a damn songwriter and had written all these love songs for the band, yet, when it came to expressing how he felt towards her all he had to say was You should have stayed. 

She wasn’t necessarily heartbroken, but she ached for him and his hair and his scent and their late night conversations and Brooklyn Nine-Nine marathons and dumb pranks on Calum. 

Nelle was plating their food when she heard the lock of her apartment door jiggle and then turn loudly. Sasha dashed in, her heavy winter coat already falling off her body as she went through the door. Sasha slammed the door behind her, dropping her purse, phone, and whatever else onto her coat. 

“Hey Hey!” she greeted quickly as she ran towards the bathroom in Nelle’s bedroom. “Sorry! Subway took forever! And you know how I feel about public restrooms!” Nelle heard Sasha call out from the distance. She chuckled as she went over to pick up her friend’s items from the floor. 

Plates full of spaghetti and meatballs, glasses of wine, and the next episode of Gossip Girl was ready by the time Sasha emerged from the bedroom. She walked slowly in a daze and plopped down on the sofa next to Nelle. Nelle grabbed the remote from next to her and was about to start the show, when her friend quickly took the remote from Nelle.

“If you want to watch something else, just say so… I thought we were going to start season four today.” Nelle grumbled before slurping a forkful of noodles in her mouth. Sasha didn’t respond, just reached into the hoodie she’d put on in Nelle’s room, and pulled out two boxes.

It took more than a second or two for Nelle to realize what she was looking at.

“I  wasn’t snooping, I swear!” Sasha began. “I was just looking for a tampon… and I found these.” Sasha looked down at the boxes of pregnancy tests she was holding. “Is there something you want to tell me?” she asked cautiously, taking a quick glance at Nelle’s stomach and back up to her amber eyes.

The brunette sighed as she placed her plate of food down on the coffee table. She sat up straight afterwards facing Sasha, her best friend and closest confidant… 

"I'm sorry." Nelle started, dropping her head. Her waves tumbled forward, covering her embarrassed face. "It was just a scare. I panicked when it was nearly two months since having my period and I might have missed a day or two of my birth control while we were on tour. I bought a ton of tests and took like three of them.

"I got mixed results and I went to the doctor. She confirmed that I wasn't and the positive ones could have been faulty or expired tests. Turns out CVS doesn't always toss their expired pregnancy tests. 

"I changed to an IUD though. So that's a plus. No kids for me for another five years… maybe. But I didn't tell you because it was nothing to worry about. And I didn't want to deal with the reactions."

Nelle nervously looked up, peering through her hair to peek at Sasha. Sasha was still as stone, almost like a Greek statue. 

"My reactions?" Sasha questioned, her head slightly tilting to the right. 

Nelle nodded. 

"Yeah… you know… the mixed reactions of disappointment in whether you are or aren't or happy because you are… or aren't. I came out negative and I was happy. I just… I don't know." Nelle hung her head again, defeated. "I just didn’t think it was anything to tell and honestly, I forgot to throw away the extra tests."

Sasha shrugged her shoulders. Nelle could see her friend trying to work her situation in her head and thought that the subject was dropped when Sasha started scarfing down her food and the next episode of Gossip Girl. 

It was halfway into the episode that Sasha suddenly paused the show and turned to Nelle, her eyebrows furrowed deeply with concern. 

"Okay, I'm fine with your decision to not have told me. I'm sure if you were, it would have been different circumstances blah, blah, blah. I'm curious though. Why would you think you were preggo though? I haven't seen you with anyone in… well… forever. And I know you didn't hook up with that Daniel guy."

Nelle shrugged her shoulders, leaving a confused expression on Sasha’s face. Sasha then looked around the room suddenly, trying to find anything out of place or something that didn’t look like Nelle’s interior style.

“You haven’t had sex in ages… probably since you were in One Direction tabloid news for dating Zayn… Are you seeing someone?! Please don’t tell me it was a roadie guy!” 

Nelle laughed, shaking her head at the same time at her friend’s ridiculous accusation.

“No, it was not a roadie… Honestly, I didn’t think anything was going to happen. We’re so restricted about our feelings, but the tension is always there. I thought before I departed the first time, with us rooming together all the time, maybe one of us would finally spill the beans about our feelings, but it never happened. Then Ash had his party and Luke was just there. Maybe it was the drinking or maybe in that moment… or moments, if you know what I mean, I just didn’t care. But we haven’t really spoken since. I kind of did walk out on him. He wanted me to stay, but I didn’t want to. He makes it seems like I owe it to him to stay and follow him around everywhere; could be because I did that for fucking years… but that was my damn job. It wouldn’t fucking hurt him to do the same for me. He’s just as capable of following me across the country as I am for him.”

Nelle gulped in some air, not sure where the sudden rush of words had come from, but Sasha had nothing to say in that moment. All she could do was gape at her. Her mouth wide open, her eyes almost popped out their sockets. 

With a hand over her mouth, Sasha mumbled “shit” about five times, then let out a laugh. The girl cackled for a minute, making Nelle scoot away from her awkwardly.

“Fuckin’ hell. Nelle… fucking Luke?!” Sasha began, a short chortle escaped her mouth again. “I knew it. You were acting hella weird on the plane ride back. You totally ignored the group chat when Ash sent that pic of those lacy undies asking Who the hell had sex in my laundry room?!. Any time Cal facetimes and Luke is in the background, you suddenly have something to do in another room. You stare at his texts for waaaaay too long before typing something and then deleting it only to answer back with one or two words. I should have paid more attention. Fuck, dude.”

“It was one night, Sash. It was the best fucking night ever. And I don’t know what to do. I’m acting like he barely exists because he can’t tell how he feels about me. I see it on his face, I see it in some of his actions, but he can’t ever just tell me ‘Nelle, I like you… like I like you, like you!’” Nelle felt a hard lump in her throat and tried to sniffle it away. “I lied to you when I said that he didn’t write any songs on Youngblood about me. Calum confirmed half that shit is about me, written and recorded that very day I quit on them.”

Sasha reached over, taking Nelle’s hands in her’s. She pressed on them gently, rubbing small circles with her thumbs for comfort. Her eyes were sympathetic. 

“I’m sorry, kid.” she said softly. “I don’t know how I can make this better.”

----------

**Australia**

It was December and the start of summer. Calum sighed as he adjusted himself on his couch, another episode of some documentary he had on for noise had just begun. He wondered how his girlfriend was faring. He knew New York was cold and he hadn’t understood why she was so insistent on remaining there for the holidays, but he sensed maybe it had to do with not wanting to leave Nelle by herself.

Speaking of Nelle, he had barely talked to her in the weeks since she had left LA after Ashton’s party. She wasn’t cold-shouldering him. He knew there was something keeping her distant, he just couldn’t pinpoint it. He had asked Sasha, but she had no idea herself either. 

Calum looked towards the wall that separated his side of the duplex he shared with Nelle. Another sigh escaped his lips before there was a knock on his front door. Calum lazily swung his body off his couch. He adjusted his basketball shorts before opening the door.

Luke, curls a long, yellow mess, dark circles under his eyes, wrinkled clothes, was on the other side of the door. Calum didn’t say anything, just stepped aside to let the taller fellow in. Calum, like every other day that Luke came over in this state, went to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water while the blond made himself comfortable on Calum’s couch.

When Calum returned to the living room, Luke had taken over the couch he had been on, switching the channels on the television. He set the glass on the coffee table in the middle of the room. Luke eyed it, but made no attempt to take a drink. 

This was becoming a new norm for them since they returned to Australia. Ashton still remained in LA and Michael was doing some traveling for another week, not sure where his next stop was going to be.

“How was therapy?” Calum asked, starting small talk, as he took the couch adjacent to the one Luke was laying on. Luke shrugged his shoulders. “Did you even go?” he asked, concerned.

“Yeah.” Luke answered softly, not letting his eyes flicker off the TV. “Same as last week. Doc says I’m in a void since we’re not touring. I don’t know how to keep myself busy.”

Calum raised an eyebrow, letting his eyes roam his friend’s attire. Luke was wearing a t-shirt that he recognized from Nelle’s wardrobe, shorts that were extremely wrinkled, and a pair of converse with unmatched socks.

“Did she also comment on how you haven’t changed out that outfit for two weeks?” 

Luke scoffed. “I washed it, asshole.”

Calum snickered with a shake of his head. 

The two didn’t say much afterwards; they watched whatever sitcom Luke had put on. Luke was drifting into a nap, when Calum’s phone vibrated on the coffee table, startling him. Calum chuckled at him before grabbing his phone to see who was contacting him.

Sasha’s name followed by a pink heart emoji appeared on his screen. He was concerned and confused. Because of the ten hour time difference, it had been a bit hard to communicate between the couple. Sometimes Sasha was barely waking up and Calum was going to sleep or vice versa. It had been difficult to find a time that suited them both. He swiped his phone screen to open the message.

Cal… I figured out the problem.

Nelle and Luke slept together. Ash’s party. 

Calum gulped, a rush of fury came and went so fast followed by surprise, annoyance, and finally calm. No wonder Luke has been acting so weird and always looked at Nelle’s side of the duplex with such damn longing. 

He peered up at Luke from over his phone as he sent a quick text back.

he’s here now. wat do i say?

Sasha’s reply came faster than Calum had anticipated.

You better get him here now with a bouquet of roses and fucking love letter the length of the equator and he better BEG on his hands and knees for the requited love of Eleanor Padilla.

[totheendofthelinepal]

CONSTELLATIONS (PART THREE)

Summary: Being stuck in space with ARES was not your plan, especially when a certain someone finds out you haven’t been intimate with anyone in your life.

Notes: Virgin Reader x Chris Beck, swearing, NSFW (18+)

You had lost count of the days.

That never happened.

But now it did.

Beck was much more distracting once you got a taste of what its like - what he was like. It made you feel like you were in high school, but god it was so worth it. He knew what he was doing, that was certain. In all the days you were up here, you never thought you’d need him more than other little things on earth. Each time you closed your eyes now you could feel it - you could feel him. It came in flashes of memories. His lips, gentle; soft. His hands slender and warm. His chest, his hair. God you loved it all. Especially below his waistline. That was something you never thought you’d want as badly as you did with him. It almost made your cheeks heated with blushing embarrassment. The kicker of it all was that he knew, and the more interesting realization was he wanted it just as much as you did. Personally, you didn’t feel like you were some kind of expert or whatever you call it. But whenever the two of you had a moment alone - away from the cameras..His hands never left you.

Tonight was no different.

You heard a soft knock to your quarters, and you smiled lightly, already knowing exactly who it was. You opened the door, seeing the familiar grin - the grin that told you why he was here exactly.

“Dr. Beck.” You smirked lightly, opening the door, looking quickly to see if you were insight of other crew members.

“They’re in bed.” Chris sighed, reaching out to touch your arms.

“You really should stop doing this.” You tried your best not to smile.

Chris only hummed, mocking to nod his head in agreement, “You’re totally right.”

You watched him in that moment, laughing lightly as his hands met the ties of your shorts.

“I really-“ He sighed, pulling the string slowly, “Really shouldn’t.”

“Beck-“

“Its Dr. to you young lady.” He grinned widely, his hand tracing your waistline.

“Really? You’re going there?” You chuckled lowly at his attempt at a small role-play.

“Oh I’m sorry, where would you like me to go?” He whispered, his hand slowly reaching to your core.

You gasped out, your body backing to the wall from his touch. You fluttered your eyes, feeling his warm hands rub circles to your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Holy shit.” You choked out, gripping his arm for some kind of leverage.

“Does that feel good?” He knitted his brow, mocking confusion.

“You know it does.” You breathed out, your nails digging to his bicep.

“You know- I wish I could hear that pretty mouth of yours” Chris ghosted his lips over yours, continuing his actions, “But you need to keep quiet.”

You nodded slowly, your legs now giving out at his actions. You clutched again, his fingers now pushing slowly in and out. You bit your lip hard, slamming your head to the back of the wall.

“God, you’re soaked, sweetheart.” Chris gruffed, “Can I..?”

You opened your eyes, as he slowly got to his knees. You took a deep breath, knowing what he was signaling at. He traced circles to your hips now - making sure you knew he was okay with whatever you answer to his request was. Your eyes looked to his - and that was all you needed. You nodded slowly, causing Chris to smile up to you. His fingers hooked the waistband, pulling it slowly to the spacecraft floor. You gasped lightly, the cold air hitting your now exposed core. Chris hummed softly, hooking your leg over his shoulder in one motion. His hand reached to yours, guiding it to the softness of his hair. You gripped lightly, wondering what this was going to feel like. It didnt take long for him, and you nearly lost it to the contact. His lips pressed softly to your core, and you threw your head back once again to the new sensation of him. You could hear what he was doing softly, his lips and tongue working softly and expertly against you. You couldn’t help but pant lightly, as he had full control of your body in this moment.

“Jesus Chris” You moaned out, your grip tightening to his hair.

He only hummed once again, as he now bit softly to the bundle of nerves. You felt the now familiar tightening a the pit of your stomach, and your sounds began to erupt now. You couldn’t have control over anything, his lips and tongue determining your every movement, every sound. You could hear your pants now turning into a small chant of his name, and just as you were nearing your finish - he pulled away. He looked up to you, and you never thought the sight of him licking his lips would make you weak - but it sure as hell did. His hand reached to your neck, pulling you down lightly to kiss him. His lips were gentle as always, and you could taste what he was doing just moments ago travel across your lips. He groaned out again, now standing to his feet, he never broke away from you. You let your body speak what you wanted to do, as you palmed lightly at the front of his sweatpants. You grinned to his mouth when you felt the vibration of a low whimper. You pulled the waistband lightly, your hand snaking past the material to get a feel for him. He panted out just like you did moments ago, and he finally pulled away. It was quick as he removed the t shirt he was wearing. You followed, removing your shirt and bra. You finally felt comfortable with him enough to expose yourself entirely. You felt your cheeks redden as his eyes instantly fell to your chest in a boyish grin.

“You’re amazing.” He gruffed out, pulling down the waistband of his sweats.

He bit his lip lightly, turning your back to him.

“Whoa whoa whoa.” You mumbled out, wondering just what he thought he’d be doing, “I hope this isn’t you asking to enter the backdoor.

Chris snickered behind you, pushing you forward to the bed, “No, I’m not.”

He placed you to the small bed, placing your hands on the small blanket before you.

“This is going to feel good, I promise.” He laughed lightly behind you, gripping the sides of you hips.

You nodded, silently giving him permission to whatever he was getting at. He motioned to the pillow, and you knitted your brow in confusion. You looked up to him, and you watched as he gripped his t shirt in his mouth. You blinked wildly, wondering what the hell he was getting to.

He removed the shirt for just a moment, “To keep ourselves quiet. Use the pillow.”

You chuckled lowly, bringing the pillow to your face. You felt him position behind you, his legs swinging fully onto the bed behind you. You waited a moment, and you finally felt what you’d been needing. He pushed in slowly, and now understood why he was doing this. The angle was much different than all the times before, and you could feel the difference in depth. You gasped out, hearing a muffled groan behind you. You gripped the pillow, as his hips began to snap lightly into you. Your back arched, the new sensation nearly making you tumble over the edge. You could hear him behind you, and you knew that he definitely felt it too. Soft pants echoed in tandem between the two of, and his pace began to quicken. You gripped the sheets, his thrusts now beginning to alternate. Finally, you felt your finish rising in you, making you tumble over in soft shivers. Chris followed, his hands placing flat to your back for more leverage. His moans were still muffled, and you could hear the breathing rising with each movement. He finally stilled, his torso growing closer to your back as he rode out the finish in his body. He dropped to you, and his hands leveled on each side of your body. You laughed softly, feeling his weight above you in that moment.

“Jesus.” Chris panted out, the shirt falling to the floor.

“That felt amazing.” You sighed, your body beginning to relax.

“It’s only the start of trying new things, babe.” Chris laughed softly, his lips pressing to your shoulder.

The crew had no idea - and if they did you knew that you would have broken countless rules at this point. Having sexual relations was not something that was allowed aboard EVA space mission. You knew you should’ve stopped it before even thinking about it - but now that you knew Chris intimately, you just couldn’t. It wasn’t purely physical anymore, you knew that in the past months the two of you had grown to bond with each other. Whether that be over talks about your mother, or playing cards. Now you just appreciated it so much more. You sat across from him now, as he shuffled the deck - he gave you a knowing smirk. You kicked him lightly, telling him silently that the crew was around you in this moment.

“God, just think. 50 more days and we’re home.” Vogel commented, walking past the two of you.

“I know I can’t wait.” You sighed, grabbing your hand of cards.

“What’s the first thing you’re going to do when we get back?” Johanssen called out to you behind a computer.

“I dont know, probably see my mother.” You smiled softly, knowing how much she mustve missed you.

“What about you Beck?” Vogel motioned to Chris, and he smirked once again.

“I think I might grab me a date.” He bit back a grin, placing a card to the table.

“That so? With who?”” Vogel chuckled lowly.

“Girl I met at school. Months ago.” Chris grinned once again, and you almost kicked him again.

“Does she know about this?” Johanssen joined the laughter.

“I think so. At least I hope she does.” Chris sighed, his eyes flickering to you in just a quick motion.

“Have you known her a long time?” Vogel smiled to Beck, leaning back to his chair.

“I have actually, we met at Yale. She’s great in bed too.” Chris grinned proudly.

This time you did kick him. He flinched lightly, only to smirk for the third damn time.

“Too much information.” Johanssen laughed softly.

“Looks like Beck is getting lucky when he gets home.” Vogel chuckled.

“God I hope so.” Chris sighed, his eyes looking to you again.

“I think you’ve got a good chance, buddy.” You smirked now, hoping he would pick up on your suggestion.

He only grinned to you, his leg now moving yours in a slow motion.

If only Vogel and Johanssen knew what was going on underneath that table.

[satinechristian]

dimyaweek: strangers on a crazy adventure

modern au 

dedicated to @intoafterglow and her love of derek’’s baseball caps

“We don’t need to bring in a tutor to help Alexei with his Russian,” Anastasia complained to her father when Dmitry Sudayev first showed up. Well, not when he first showed up, as that would mean she complained about him in front of him and that was the sort of rude that was unforgivable to her parents and Nana. But the moment she had left the foyer from opening the door to see a teen boy standing there, wearing well worn clothing and a backwards baseball cap (of all things!) looking both beautiful and stupid, and marched into her father’s study. “Any one of us can do it.”

At this, Nicholas Romanov looked up at his youngest daughter, in a mixture of amusement and annoyance. His tone was set when he spoke, however, “And yet, none of you have.”

So it was true that her father had been asking them, mostly Maria and Anastasia as they were both still in high school and Olga and Tatiana were away at college and would have never allowed Alexei’s studies to drop to the level where an outsider would need to come in. Her oldest sisters were annoyingly perfect in that way. 

“I can do it,” she insisted, mentally trying to rearrange her school and social calendar schedule. “What are even his qualifications?”

“He speaks Russian, he reads Cyrillic and he’s shown up to help Alyosha,” her father responded. “That already puts him ahead of my daughters.” Her father looked back at the work she had interrupted. “Nastyona, go be young and have fun. Enjoy the free time this allows you.” 

She had left, but she wasn’t happy about it. Neither was her oldest sister, Olga, who had called her that night to ask her why she couldn’t have been bothered to help her little brother with his studies. 

The second time Dmitry showed up, he wore an outfit similar to the one he had worn before except even more worn out, and the same stupid hat attached to his head. He didn’t even take it off when he walked into the dining room where her brother was set up to do his studies. 

“Privyet, Dmitry!” Her younger brother greeted his tutor happily. 

Her brother was always starved for male attention, complaining he was cursed with nothing but sisters and sisters. He had been close with Olga’s high school boyfriend, but they had broken up during her sister’s senior year and now she was away at Yale in college and so they never saw her current boyfriend. Little Alexei had taken the break up harder than Olga had, being all of 9 at the time it had happened. Tatiana did not date boys, and therefore never brought any home. And Maria never dated a boy for long enough to bring him home to meet the entire family. (She was still required to have them meet their parents, if they had no previous acquaintance with him or his family. As a result, she tended to date mostly within their Russian-American circle so she didn’t have to introduce them to her parents.) And Anastasia...well, she was entirely too picky according to her sisters and classmates. 

“Privyet, Alexei,” Dmitry returned. And she resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the way he rolled his r’s when he did so. What a show off. 

“Have you met my favorite sister?” Alexei asked, in English. 

Dmitry’s gaze flickered over to her, dismissively and then replied to Alexei, “Not officially.”

“I call her Anya,” Alexei explained. It was true, he had not been able to pronounce Anastasia when he was younger and had always gotten stuck on the first two syllables. Ann-ya had softened to Anya eventually. “But everyone else calls her Anastasia.” 

Dmitry looked back over at her, assessing her. “Anya,” he tried out instead of her actual name. 

“Do you have trouble with your syllables too?” She asked, then put her hand to her mouth because it was a sort of thing to say that would get her in trouble with her parents and grandmother. 

Instead of being offended, however, Dmitry merely laughed in response. She wondered if he truly was as simple as he appeared. Dimples popped out near his jawline when he laughed and she snapped her gaze away and towards her brother. Who was glaring at her. She supposed she was not currently the favorite sister anymore. 

He pointed towards the next room with the staircase and with a rather good impression of their father for a twelve year old said, “Go to your room.”

She bristled at the tone coming from someone four years younger than her and snapped back, “Say it in Russian!”

Her brother gave a panicked look towards Dmitry who shrugged. Then Dmitry said the only smart thing she had ever heard him say when he told her brother, “I don’t think it counts if I say it for you, bud.”

Anastasia left, but she very purposefully did not go to her room. Later that night, however, her father came to her room and told her she absolutely must apologize to her brother and his tutor. 

Apologizing to Alexei was easy enough, as he was one to forgive easily and he had most likely been over her fit of temper the moment she stormed out of the room. Apologizing to Dmitry would be more difficult and probably more necessary. 

So, the next time he showed up and she opened the door for him and his stupid baseball cap, she swallowed her pride and said, “I’m sorry.”

He arched an eyebrow in response, “In Russian?”

Well, Anastasia supposed she deserved that.  She let out an annoyed breath and said, “Mne ochen’ zhal’.”

Dmitry and dimples smiled back at her, “Proyekhali, Anya.”

Anastasia decided to pick her battles. As per the advice all the older members of her family gave to her. 

She decided to make polite small talk, that may or may not also double as an interrogation. “Do you tutor many people?”

“Your brother is the first one,” he said. He was chewing gum. Of course he was. 

“School credit?”

“Community service, actually,” he told her and she found herself back at her father’s study. 

“Papa, he’s a criminal,” she told him. “He’s tutoring Alexei for community service credit.” 

“I’m well aware, Malenkaya,” her father said patiently. 

She narrowed her eyes at him because it was unlike anyone in her family to simply let anyone in and deal with their children. “What does Mama think?”

Her father let out an impatient sigh now, “Your mother is very disappointed that you and Maria couldn’t be bothered to help your brother with his studies but also believes in Christian forgiveness.” He frowned. “And also, Anastasia, with all this time you spend harassing your brother and his tutor I don’t know how you didn’t have time to help him.”

Properly shamed, she left her father’s study and avoided her brother and his tutor for his next few sessions. 

Unfortunately, walking back from her friend Katya’s house, she found him unavoidable as he fell into step beside her. 

She was surprised, as she had just assumed he had driven to their house every session but now that she thought about it she couldn’t remember seeing him coming to or from her house before. 

“Do you walk here every time?”

He glanced over, startled as though he hadn’t expected her to speak to him. She supposed she deserved that. “I walk from the bus stop.” He gestured to his clothing. “I do not live in this neighborhood.”

She just nodded in response. “Was your license suspended?”

Dmitry laughed in response, and she didn’t know why she couldn’t help but be rude around him. “Do you want to know why I’m serving community service?”

“Yes,” she answered, a little too quickly. 

He shrugged. “I got caught stealing food.”

“Oh,” she said. Something made her think it probably wasn’t just as a prank or whatever stupid reasons boys at her school stole from people with. “Where are your parents?”

“My father died a few years ago,” he responded looking straight ahead as they walked. “My mom died a few years after I was born.”

Well, now she felt every inch the spoiled brat she had probably shown herself to be. 

“Who is raising you?” She asked softly. 

“If the state asks,” he leaned over like imparting a secret to her. “My foster father is, but I’m pretty sure I’m raising us both.”

One more question, because Anastasia was nothing but curious. “Why do you always where that stupid hat?”

“You think my hat is stupid?” He teased and pulled off the cap and shook out his hair. Beautiful, thick and rather luxurious brown hair. It seemed unfair. She was hoping he had been hiding a deformity or a bald spot. 

“Ah,” she said, glancing over at him. “I can see why you kept the hat on, you are obviously hideous.”

Dmitry reached over and set the cap (forwards) on her head, pulling the lid down low over her forehead and eyes. 

“So I’m told,” he said in a way that told her he was definitely (truthfully) told the opposite. 

She tugged that hat up slightly so she could see. “Are you trying to tell me I look hideous?”

“Yes, Anya,” he said, glancing over at her. “You are the most hideous creature I’ve ever seen.”

She had no idea why that made her blush. 

The next time she opened the door to let him in for Alexei’s tutoring, he was not wearing his hat. Even though she had handed it back to him once they had reached the door last time. She wanted to have topped back on his head, like he had down to her but she didn’t know how to reach that high without physically climbing up him and she felt that would be awkward. 

She did, however, greet him in Russian (he was very hideous indeed today) and he grinned and replied in kind and they kept it up as he got out the books for Alexei. Alexei came down at some point, taking his seat. He looked between the two of them, groaning when he heard Russian being spoken. 

After a few moments of working on his Cyrillic worksheet as Dmitry and Anya continued to speak, Alexei put down his pen to glare at them. 

Or, rather, her, “You don’t need a Russian tutor.”

“I know,” she told her brother in English. “But if you keep studying you won’t be so annoyed by this.”

Her brother gave her a sickly sweet smile, “Oh, I think I’ll always find you annoying, Anya.”

Dmitry whispered to her, also in English, “Are you sure you’re his favorite sister?”

She leaned back to respond in a whisper, “Yes, you should see the rest of them.”

Alexei threw a pen at her and she shrieked as it almost hit her. Her grandmother came into the room to tell her that she wasn’t behaving like a proper young lady and to go sit with her until she could settle down. 

Dmitry winked at her as she got pulled away to the other room. 

Alexei was still pouting when Anastasia joined him and Maria in the living room later on as they watched television. He merely grunted in a greeting to her.

“What’s his problem?” Maria asked her.

“I can answer myself,” Alexei said grumpily. “And my problem is that Anya has discovered Dmitry is hot and now won’t leave us alone.”

“Ah,” Maria said, unfazed by a Romanov sibling outburst. Then she looked over at Anastasia, who had forgotten to protest her brother’s claim. “I always knew you’d end up with a juvenile delinquent.”

Anastasia crossed her arms over her chest and looked away. Now Maria could deal with two grumpy siblings for the rest of the night. 

“Hey,” Dmitry greeted her as their paths crossed once again outside her house. He, on his way to tutor her brother, and she, on her way to meet some friends at the movies because she had been declared too much of a distraction to her brother during his lessons. ‘I’m not the one she’s distracting,’ Alexei had muttered under his breath. “You’re leaving?”

“Yes,” Anya said. He was standing at the bottom of the porch steps, and she stayed three steps up and enjoyed the fact she was eye level with him for once. “I’ve been banished from my own home by a twelve year old boy.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, and even though it wasn’t his fault, he sounded far more sincere than she had back when she originally had to apologize to him. “Can I make it up to you?”

“It’s not your fault,” but also she realized being eye level really meant it was easy for her gaze to flick down to his lips. 

Lips that smiled. “What if I made it up to you outside of your dining room?”

Anastasia gasped, “You mean like the living room? Or even on this here porch?”

“I was going to get wild and suggest the backyard,” he replied. 

“Oh, a bad boy,” she teased. Then she leaned forward and kissed him, because she could. 

“I feel like you’re far more trouble than I could ever be,” Dmitry told her. “Meet me here after tutoring?”

She nodded, and let him pull her in for another kiss. 

That was quickly interrupted by the sound of the door opening and her little brother saying, “Now that you guys have gotten that out of the way, can I please learn some Russian.” 

Anastasia giggled as her and Dmitry pulled away from each other, “At least you’ve gotten him passionate about the language.”

Before he fully pulled away, he did lean in to whisper, “U tebya krasivye glaza.”

“U tyebya acheravatyel'naya ulypka,” she returned, with a smile. 

Alexei groaned and stepped forward and pulled Dmitry towards the door, while shooing his sister away with the other. 

See, her brother was finally understanding Russian enough to be properly annoyed by what they were saying.

[writingmyimagines]

Shot Through the Heart - Pt 1

Billy Hargrove X Reader

A/N: Hi all, this is my first imagine on this blog and it will in fact be a series. I am still playing with the title, so it may change, but as of now it is from You Give Love a Bad Name by Bon Jovi. This chapter introduces you as a character and establishes where the plot is going, let me know if you have any feedback!

Warning: cursing

Word Count: 1.9k

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You watched as the sun rose, a sleepless night behind you. Your radio hummed in the background, quietly playing Bruce Springsteen, and you turned your attention back to the speckled ceiling waiting for the inevitable. Today was January 10th, the first day of school since you had recessed for winter break. ‘Stupid school,’ you muttered.

Moments later, the alarm blared, signaling your normal 6:20 AM wake up time. And you rolled out of bed, before quickly getting into action. Rolled up jeans, adidas sneakers, hair spray, your fur lined jean jacket, and a bit of lip gloss later and you were ready to go. 

Hurriedly, you ran downstairs as your mother called, “(Y/N), breakfast is ready!” Taking two steps at a time, you hopped down and reached for the plate of eggs and french toast being presented to you. It seems your dad had already left the house given his empty coffee cup and syrup smothered plate. Your younger sister on the other hand was already gobbling down eggs, staring at you before blathering, “Impf alrady rally late.” Distantly, you processed what was said, and began to eat violently fast, glancing at the clock that read 7:03, “Shit.”

“Language! Although you two do need to get out the door.” You couldn’t help, but roll your eyes before inhaling the rest of your plate and running up to kiss your mom on the cheek, a bit of syrup sticking to her skin. You snatched your bag off the hook by the doorway, calling, “I was going to hang out with Britt and Robin today, can you take care of Cassie?”

You hardly waited for the response, swinging open the door and being met with a sharp breeze of cold Indiana air. Distantly, there was some kind of approval and Cassandra ran past you, heading straight for your ‘79 Chevy. She was a bit old and didn’t always run great, but she was yours, and god you loved her. You followed suit, accidentally slamming the door, and immediately revving her up.

The radio hummed on your way to the middle school, dropping Cassie off. Hardly stopping, you ushered her out and yelled, “Have a good day! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t!”

She ran off and you glanced at the clock again, 7:20. So you put the pedal to the metal, screeching into the parking lot at 7:26 like a bat out of hell, your tires having burnt some serious rubber on the turn in. Several shocked faces glanced at you, everyone making their own way to the first day of school this calendar year. You hurried out, knowing that your 7:30 AM chemistry class was at the very end of the building and you would have to hurry up. But by some stroke of luck, one of your dearest friends Brittney caught up to you as you ran into the bustling halls of your high school. She bumped into your shoulder aggressively, “Good to see you too. Don’t tell me that screeching was you in the parking lot?”

You gave out a guilty laugh, before confirming, “Yeah, I guess I was running a little late. New year, I wanted to make sure my hair looked nice.” You gently messed with your carefully styled hair, before she oooh’d at you, “Trying to impress anyone, are you? You know, Damien in your biology class is pretty cute, Robin says he can play guitar too.”

You winked at her, before waving her off, “Nah, gotta focus on finishing college applications! You think I want to be stuck in Indiana for the rest of my life? No thank you.”

“Well with your grades, you should be fine, Miss Soon-to-Be Valedictorian.” You laughed at her, lightly punching her shoulder and whining, “You don’t know that! Don’t put those far off dreams in my head.” 

So yes, you were good at school, very good at school; so good in fact, you were applying to Stanford, Brown, Yale, and Harvard. They were distant dreams, but if anyone in this god forsaken small town had a chance, it was you. This also meant that yes, you guys were nerds, but luckily not outcasts. The three of you didn’t bring enough attention to yourselves that you got bullied, but you weren’t exactly popular either. Or really, anywhere near popular. The closest you had gotten was Tommy H has made a passing comment about Britt’s “rack” once, so yeah, not really your scene.

But you were dragged from your thoughts as the one minute warning bell rang and you and Britt sat down in the dusty chemistry lab room, sadly knowing Robin had band first thing in the morning. And it didn’t take your graying, wheezing instructor but ten seconds to start droning on about balancing chemical reactions and the proper way to go about it. Seems like it would be another exciting day at Hawkins High.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The school day had quickly come to a close and you began making your way to your little trio’s meeting spot; the music room. Your last class was Literature, and you shared it with none of your friends, so you were quietly humming to yourself, making your way to the adjacent arts building when the vice principal stopped you. Mr. Eldridge gave a small smile, before inquiring, “Mrs. (Y/L/N)? Yes, I need to see you in my office really quickly if you have a moment, nothing bad of course, just a little something.”

You tried not to raise your eyebrow at the careful lilt in his voice towards the end of the phrase, almost as if he was hiding something. You pushed a smile onto your features and nodded, quietly following him into the musty office of his. There, a puke green carpet cushioned your steps as you fell into quite possibly the most uncomfortable neon office chair you had ever had the displeasure of being in. 

He rested his bony hands on the oak desk and you watched him questioningly, nodding almost as if urging him to tell you what was going on. He started loudly, “As you know, I am in charge of all student’s academics and well-being here at Hawkins High and as such, I want every single student to do well.” You nodded carefully, wondering why he was telling you all this. “Well, I wanted to try a new program of sorts. You are an exemplary student Ms. (Y/L/N), top of the class, involved in several clubs, engaged in volunteering, and an all around sweet girl.” You smiled a bit more proudly, not hating hearing your own praise. “As such, we figured you would be the best candidate to lift others up with you.” Here is where you started getting suspicious, what on Earth did he mean by that?

Your eyebrows lifted and he continued, “As I mentioned, I want all students to succeed, and unfortunately, some students here don’t take their studies as seriously as you do. So some of the faculty and I thought to do a Student-to-Student program of sorts. Essentially, we’ll be pairing you with a student that is struggling and you will meet with them a couple of days a week. You can study together, offer them tips, perhaps encourage volunteering or extracurriculars? Your job is to try to encourage them to be a better student, and more importantly, a better person.”

Gears in your brain were slowly cranking as you deciphered what this meant. So he wanted you to mentor someone? As if the dead-beats at this school would give a shit, none the less agree to this. It was clear that higher education wasn’t the uhhh, right path for some. 

Yet, he went on, “We wanted to test out this program with you and one other student given your absolutely stunning record. If it goes well, then we can further this program and hopefully improve the lives of all youth that walk through these hallowed halls!” He glanced proudly around his office, glancing longingly at his own high school graduation portrait before glancing back around. He let out a heavy sigh, but perked back up, waiting for your answer.

You weren’t exactly convinced though, this sounded like a lot of effort and to be rewarded with what? You knew that this wasn’t going to be transformative for anyone and was more than likely a waste of time. “I’m sorry sir, but I am not sure I have the time to do this. As you mentioned, my schedule is quite packed and I am in the process of applying to quite a few colleges, as well as balancing my clubs and spending time with family…”

You trailed off, but he interrupted, “Ah, but perhaps I can help that. We can put on your resume that you helped this program get off the ground, mentored another student, proving yourself as a leader. You would be the first student to do something like this in all of Hawkins, maybe even all of Indiana. Aren’t colleges always looking for leadership and initiative?” He had a glint in his eye and you sighed. This would look stellar, and unfortunately, you were lacking a bit in the leadership department. But you would be missing a lot. But none of that would matter if you got into the college of your dreams. ‘Well, it might be for the best.’

“Sir, how often would this be?” And he laughed boisterously, knowing that he had gotten you in. “But a mere two days a week and every other Friday afternoon. Just an hour in the library, nothing you aren’t capable of. And we wanted to run this for a month or two, just to see how it goes.”

You nodded slowly, mulling things over. You would be missing time with your dear friends, but this could very well be the edge you need to get into an Ivy League. Another sigh escaped your lips, and you nodded. “Well sir, sign me up, I’ll do it.”

He nodded, his lips breaking into a large smile and his hands clapping together. It seems that he was more worried about this than he had let on. He chortled, “Amazing, simply amazing Ms. (Y/L/N), you don’t understand how great that is to hear, and I will be happy to write any recommendation letters or help in any way I can. Can you start tomorrow, Tuesday afternoon?”

Well that was quick, and your features showed your surprise, but you nodded. Seems that your schedule was about to change quite a bit. 

“Fantastic! Just go to the library after school and we’ll send in your mentee.”

You nodded again and began to reach for your bag as he was getting up as well. You made a mental note to write this in your planner as your feet lead you to the door. And your heart beat faster, getting nervous at the thought of basically being responsible for another student’s life when you turned back towards this thinning man, and you questioned, “Oh I nearly forgot sir, who should I be looking for tomorrow? Or rather, who will I be working with?”

He took a moment, heading to the door as well when he pursed his lips and you became suspicious immediately. Surely it was gonna be some druggie or someone who just didn’t care, nothing too hard to deal with, you knew the type. But the words that left his mouth stunned you, “You’ll be working with Mr. Billy Hargrove.” And his door slammed shut.

Billy fucking Hargrove. Unbelievable.

[poisxnyouth]

neighbors. chapter two. (d.d)

A/N: whew! Sorry this took so long, I've had such a long week and wrote myself into a corner for a little bit. I hoooooope this is okay. Let me know if anything seems out of character, if you like something, if you don’t, etc etc! All criticism is always appreciated (: Let me knooooow! - hailey

Warnings: drinking & cussing

Word Count: 3.2k on the dot!

Chapter 1

“Wait, like DAVID David? Like, neighbor David?” Francine’s jaw dropped on your phone screen, the rest of the girls mimicking her.

“Yes, Francine. David Dobrik. Oh my god, I don’t even know how it happened, it all went so quick!”

“What happened?” Tessa scrunched her eyebrows together. She was on her way home from work, walking with headphones in as she sipped on her iced coffee, eyes flickering between the sidewalk and her phone.

“Natalie, his assistant, invited me over for drinks and obviously, like, I couldn’t say no, right?” They nodded in sync, “So I went over there, and it was fine for like 45 minutes, David wasn’t around, Natalie and I were just talking, having a few drinks, and I was telling her about my job and you guys and vice versa. I was having a good time! David comes out and things immediately get weird. It’s like he flipped a fucking switch in me! Like, I couldn’t think of anything remotely cool to say.”

“You’re still not spilling how this ended with you coming to New York with him?” Sienna inquires.

“Well, Natalie was listening to me talking about you and she kind of brought it up?”

“Didn’t you meet her, like, today?” Tessa chimes in, confused as she still walks her way through Manhattan.

“I know! That’s what I was thinking! She was hearing me talk about you guys and how much I miss New York. She just asked out of the blue. David had said something about being her boss and she just told him to come with. Did I mention she’s trying to hook us up too? AND HE PAID FOR ALL OF THREE OF US! Ugh!” You’re going back and forth between your closet exasperatedly, folding random items of clothing and tossing it in your suitcase (way too much for a weekend trip, but you know it’s because you want to look good for him). You stop in between the story to make sure outfits match, wanting their approval before you make yourself look foolish in front of the man. He probably won’t even notice, but it’s the little things that count.

“Wait, he paid?” They ask in unison. You nod your head quickly.

“Yeah! I tried to tell him I can afford to pay for my own ticket and he just said, ‘I didn’t ask if you could afford it, I’m paying,’” you roll your eyes, mocking him.

“Y/N, you know what this means….” Francine says, feigning nervousness, “you need to go on a date with him when you get here. Like, it’s an absolute need. You’ll die if you don’t.”

“I don’t know if I even want to date anyone! I just got here in LA, I need to settle down with my job first-“

“Y/N. No. You remember whatshisface from high school? You cheated yourself out of him, too-“

“Sienna, I just met the guy today. I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves!”

“You may have met him today, but he bought you a ticket to come home for the weekend! Like, he’s either a really nice stranger or he’s into you, Y/N,” Sienna offers. She seems to be at home in her pajamas. Respectable.

“Okay, and what if he is into me? Then what?”

They all groan, “You get a boyfriend, Y/N!”

“I don’t need one!”

“Uh, yes, you do. You’re so lonely in LA! Like, all you do is go to work and post pictures of what you’re eating or what you’re watching on Netflix. You work so hard to have a good life and you don’t even get to appreciate it!  Just go on one date with him while you’re here. Russian Tea Room? Butter? Go shopping afterwards? Literally anything. It’d be nice! One date and see what happens, Y/N! Plus, it’s kind of chilly here right now…you can borrow his jacket!” Francine is really pushing this whole boyfriend idea. You don’t say anything, sighing halfheartedly before taking your phone in your bathroom to speak to them while you bag up toiletries.

“Fine. I’ll ask, I guess. What about Natalie?” You’re going through your shampoos and conditioners, having difficulty determining what makes your hair the softest. You suddenly realize how much of a try hard you are.

“We’ve got you, bitch. I wanna pick her brain about David,” Francine admits. Of course, she would.

“I can’t believe you guys are making me do this.”

“It’s for your own good,” says Tessa. You can only roll your eyes in response.

“I’ve gotta go. I’ll call when I land.”

“See you soon, Y/N! One of us will be there to pick you up. When do you land?”

“Like, 10:30? He wanted to get there in the morning.” They ooo’ed as you told them you loved them and hung up.

++

The flight was painstakingly awkward. You were stuck in between David and Natalie (Natalie’s doing), and while you wanted to speak to him, he was editing the entire time. Natalie was passed out, quietly snoring. She remained that way for the rest of the flight. He had opted for a late plane, taking off at 5:00 AM, insisting it was easier for him because he would be up all night anyway. You didn’t mind, you would have been up all night either way, but he does give you a few questioning looks as you order more than a couple rum and cokes.

He takes a brief break, turning and saying to you, “Aren’t you tired?”

“Not really. I stay up often. Hey, while you’re not busy, can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“So, uh, I’m gonna be honest, we’re going to meet my friends, right? Like, they’re one of the reasons we’re here?”

“I guess? Natalie wanted to come, I don’t really know anything about them.” His implication of not wanting to come kind of offends you. If he didn’t want to make the trip, he didn’t have to, and he certainly didn’t have to pay.

“I mean – okay, I’ll just let them introduce themselves, but anyways, you moved in a few months ago and I had also just moved in, I’d been in my house for like, two weeks, right? I noticed you, not gonna lie, because you were really fucking loud and an annoying neighbor, but it’s fine, that’s not the point!”

“Are you drunk?”

Your eyes widen, “Oh my gosh, what? No! I had a few drinks, but I’m pretty much a heavyweight. Yale was a wack party school. Taught me in more ways than one. Anyway, so I noticed you, and I told my friends about you.”

“Is this bad? Like, you told them I’m annoying so now they’re gonna act all weird when I meet them?”

“Oh my god, David, just let me finish. I told them about you, and I was like, ‘Oh, guys, he’s really cute and he must be fucking rich because he’s my neighbor but he’s so young, so I don’t know? Trust fund baby, maybe? I don’t know, but he’s hot.’ Anyway, long story short, they really wanted me to ask you out on a date while we’re here.”

“Okay?”

“What do you mean, ‘Okay?’ Like, do you want to or not?”

“Sure, I guess,” he shrugs.

“I really do not appreciate the nonchalance!” You jokingly shove, but you feel your hand stay on his shoulder for a moment too long when you meet his eyes. He doesn’t laugh as you quickly remove your hand, almost as though you had gotten burnt.

“I’ll pay,” he says, not acknowledging what had happened as he turns back to his computer.

“No, you’re not! You paid for me to come here. Plus, I don’t even know you and I’m the one who asked. You don’t get to pay!”

“I’m paying, it’s fine,” he insists, now absentmindedly editing with one earbud in.

“No, you’re not. You wanna go tonight, or…?” He only nods in response, murmuring a small sure. Even with his adamance about paying, he’s kind of acting like an asshole. You wish you could put your finger on it. You know the body language of someone who’s getting distracted while they’re trying to work, and that is definitely not what he’s doing. The only thing you’re reading from him is unwillingness. You’re not stupid; you know when to end a conversation. You turn away from him and put your earbuds in, quickly typing out a text to you and your friends’ group chat, writing, He said yes. You end up falling asleep, elbow on the arm rest, supporting your head. You wake at the end of the flight, David giving you a soft nudge with the lift of his shoulder. You fucking fell asleep on him.

“Oh, fuck, holy shit. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-“ He waves you off, not worrying about it as he starts packing up his belongings.

“You were slowly leaning over for like 30 minutes, so I just put your elbow down. It’s fine. Can you wake Nat?” He did what now? You don’t allow yourself to mentally trip over it as you turn to softly shake Natalie’s shoulder. She grumbles softly, stretching her arms out in front of her before sliding her glasses on.

++

“Y/N asked me out on a date,” David whispers to Natalie, smile playing at his lips while he fidgets with the straps on his backpack. You’re preoccupied at baggage claim, foot tapping impatiently as you scan the bags coming out of the conveyor belt. Theirs had come before yours.

“And you said….?”

“I mean, I said yes, duh. I just don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

“Jesus Christ, David,” her eyes roll, “Don’t be stupid. Why can’t you do anything good for yourself? You know you want to, and you never would have gotten the balls to ask her, let alone any girl. Liza asked you on your first date, too. Just look at it as a good thing. You’re a pussy, anyways.”

“I am not a pussy!” he exclaims before bringing his voice lower, “And don’t compare her to Liza.”

“You are too, and why not? Like, obviously we know Liza better, but if you look at what’s on paper aren’t they almost the same?”

“We don’t know Y/N.”

“And yet here we are. Don’t be an asshole because you’re still waiting on Liza. You forget she was basically your first relationship. You’re only hurting yourself, David.”

“She seems desperate,” he offers in retaliation. He’s getting annoyed and he fucking hates it.

“She literally doesn’t. She thinks you’re cute. That’s not desperate. You know what’s desperate? Waiting on an ex when it’s been a whole year since you’ve broken up-“

“You know our break up wasn’t like that!”

“Yes, I do, Dave,” Natalie has turned to him now, not afraid to look him in the eye, “But I’m serious. You need to fucking move on.”

“I have moved on.”

“If you’ve moved on, why are we having this conversation?” He can only huff in response, aware of how correct Natalie is. She turns away and takes his exasperation as a victory, eyeing you as you spot your luggage and turn around, making your way back to them.

  ++

  “Francine, you need to fucking cool it,” you warn, no real anger in your voice as you both walk ahead of Natalie and David. “He’s been sending mixed signals ever since I had drinks with Natalie at his house. Like, who the fuck says, ‘I guess,’ to being asked out on a date?”

“Oh, so he’s an asshole?” She whispers, leading you to your Uber. You reassure her he’s not, that he’s not an asshole asshole, but he’s also not trying his best to be friendly. Natalie had asked where Sienna and Tessa were before you had explained they were working, but would be free later that night and the next day. You and David didn’t speak for the rest of the morning, even through the car ride, hotel check in, luggage drop off at their hotel and Francine’s apartment, and breakfast. You don’t know how to take it and Francine doesn’t either. She pulls you aside in the bathroom at the restaurant, whispering to you about how cute he is and how you need to try harder. You reiterate to her that you are trying, very hard actually, but he isn’t being responsive. You even consider cancelling the date altogether, but Francine’s frantic “no, no, no, no” swayed you. 

  You and Francine are in the bathroom, Francine attempting to hype you up in the mirror while Natalie makes the effort to do the same to David at the table. She’s fixing his hoodie and pushing his hair to where it should be while calling him stupid for not flirting with you. Her reprimands go in one ear and out the other, denying that there’s any chemistry at all. There isn’t, not really; it’s mostly just a spectacle, and you both know it.

  Breakfast and lunch go (mostly) smoothly, a few moments of awkward shared words between you two. You eventually David off to yourself behind the two girls while walking to give him Francine’s address and discuss the date details. You maintain eye contact with him during the exchange, deciding on a time he’d pick you up and where you’d go. He insists on Per Se, pointing it out as you pass it, laughing through your protests about it being too expensive and still not wanting him to pay.

“David, I’ve lived in New York my entire life and I think I’ve only been a handful of times. Like, you don’t get how expensive it is-“

“Y/N! It’s fine! I swear. I give people money to let me shoot them with paintball guns. I can take you to dinner.”

“Okay, but it’s not like we’re going to Chili’s! It’s one of the most expensive restaurants in all of Manhattan.”

“It’s fine. I’m taking you. End of!” You sulk as you tell Francine you should split up with David and Natalie, explaining that due to his expensive taste, you now must go shopping and recommend he goes as well.

++

“Now, explain to me, David, how in the fuck are you going to act like you don’t want to go on a date with her when you’re going to take her to a dinner that’s probably going to cost you over a grand? Plus, what she’s going to wear, what you’re going to wear, and whatever you guys do afterwards? Sounds like you’re in denial.” Natalie is filing through racks at Saks, doing all the work while David stands there.

“Natalie, there’s like, nothing between us,” he promises, “The girl deserves a good first date. If I can afford it, I’ll do it. And I can, so what’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is: you’re jumping through all of these hoops-“

“PLEASE remember that I literally did not know her name 24 hours ago!” She mutters a small whatever, tired of him. She can only hope you two will hit it off, so she won’t have to deal with him for the rest of the weekend. Natalie throws the hangers in her arms into his passive aggressively, telling him to go try the articles on and show her after each one. She might just kill him.

++

You and Francine’s conversation in the Saks dressing room mirrored David and Natalie’s almost exactly.

++

The date goes well, to put it bluntly. Almost too well. He did indeed pay a fixed price of three hundred and fifty dollars for the two of you, even insisting on buying an entire bottle of the most expensive Merlot they had, much to your dismay. You explained your job in further detail to him and him, almost tipsy after half a glass of wine, essentially told you his life story about Slovakia, Chicago, Natalie, high school, Vine, and YouTube. You let him and listened very intently as you snuck sips from his glass, knowing he’d be unable to finish it. It hit you how stupid he may be when the waitress ordered him to not touch his plate quite yet, as it was too hot, and he looked you in the eyes and touched the side of his plate with his index finger. He had too much money for his own good.

The check eventually came, his eyes widening as he told you how expensive of a date you were. The joke immediately went over your head, reaching for your wallet to pull out your card. He let you, knowing he was going to let it stay in your hand. You reached across the table to force it into his palm; instead, he dropped it back on the table, taking your hand in his as he flagged down the waitress.

“Ugh, you’re so annoying! Just let me pay.”

“You can get the milkshakes later,” he promises, quickly removing his hand from yours, able to tell you don’t know what quite to say. You kind of thought this would have been the entire date, and now he wants to extend it? A mere 12 hours ago he was giving you the cold shoulder on the plane and now he’s paying for a thousand-dollar dinner and essentially telling you he doesn’t want the date to end? He’s very talented at sending mixed signals. He’s sobered up now, sliding your card back to you as he places his own in his wallet.

After you leave, you somehow find the room in your stomachs to split a milkshake on 9th, two straws and all. You make sure to call him a liar as he pays for it (you knew he would). You wander through the city together, hand in hand, showing him where you went to school, your childhood apartment building, where you ate breakfast with your friends before school, your favorite bookstore, almost too much. You almost felt like you were being excessive, but the thumb rubbing the back of your hand told you otherwise. If it had been any other guy, you think you might be confident of their reciprocated feelings, but his mixed signals from earlier threw you off. You don’t know whether to take him legitimately or not, so you try not to get your hopes up…until you find yourself in the hallway of Francine’s apartment building, pressed up against her door, a soft thud emerging, as his lips land on yours. His hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him as he deepened the slow kisses immediately changed your mind. You pulled away from him, placing a final kiss on his lips and pushing slightly at his chest before anything more occurred (especially with Francine, Natalie, Sienna, and Tessa laughing on the other side of the door).

“Wait, Y/N,” he leaned in again, kissing you once more before leaning out and apologizing softly, murmuring a ‘Sorry, wanted it,’ and knocking on Francine’s door for you. You hear the feet shuffling to the door and give him a kiss on the cheek, as quick and wet as you can, before Natalie opens the door to two attempts at hiding smiles.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Greatest Work

Fandom: Marvel (High School AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You and James “Bucky” Barnes are tied to be the valedictorian at your high school graduation. Throughout senior year, you and James compete with each other to see who will be the valedictorian and give that heartwarming, end of High School speech.

A/N: angst if you squint. also bucky and reader are super smart. unlike me irl.

James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes was the golden boy at SHIELD High School. He was the star quarterback, good looking, kind, funny, and, most of all, smart. He was also your biggest academic rival. 

You two were always at each other’s throats.Trying to get the best grade in every class, on every test, for every project, etc. No matter how hard you tried, James was constantly at your level and you hated it.

You nervously sat in Principal Fury’s office. Beside you sat none other than Bucky Barnes himself. Fury, leaned against his chair, his one eye glancing back and forth to you and Bucky.

“So, since we’ve hit the middle of the year, I’d like to inform you that both of you are tied to be valedictorian for your graduating class. Unfortunately, only one of you can be it. The person with the highest grade point average will be anointed that position. I don’t expect you to see this as a competition, but I’d just like you to know what’s at stake here.”

Bucky cleared his throat, flashing a smile that always seemed to charm the teachers, staff, and, well, pretty much anyone, “I just like to say, sir, that I don’t see this as a competition at all,” he turns to you and smirks, “-because I’m clearly going to win.”

Your jaw and fists clenched together as you glared at Bucky, “Then may the best student win, Barnes.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I will.” he picked up his backpack and waltzed out of Fury’s office, head held high. 

You immediately stood up, grabbing your own back, and marching out the door, Fury mumbling out, “Good luck,” before you slammed it shut.

________________________________

“He is insufferable, Billy!” you exclaimed at your computer as you facetimed with your best friend, Billy Russo, “All he does is flash a smile, say something funny, and everyone falls at his feet! He thinks he’s the king of the school!”

“Y/N, he kind of is,” Billy notes.

“He isn’t! And I’ll prove it when I’m the one who gets a perfect score on Selvig’s final project! Barnes won’t know what’ll hit him and it’ll me who’ll be giving that valedictorian speech at graduation!” you say with an proud and somewhat evil smile.

Billy gives you a concerned look through your screen, “Do you even know what you’re going to make? He expects an impeccable invention that no one has thought of before.”

You nod, “Trust me, Bill, I got it in the bag.”

________________________________

“She’s so annoying, Steve! Such a stuck up, prissy chick! She doesn’t know how to have fun or take a joke or anything! And she honestly thinks that she’ll get to be valedictorian. Against me!” he snorts, “Can you believe that?!”

Steve shrugs as he watches his best friend hunch over his desk, tinkering away at his project for Dr. Selvig’s final project, “She is pretty smart, Buck,” he mumbles out.

Bucky scoffs, “Not as smart as me though. Has she been offered a scholarship to MIT, Stanford, Harvard, and Yale? I don’t think so!”

“Why’s it such a big deal to be valedictorian then if you have all these scholarships offered to you?”

“I don’t care about being valedictorian, Stevie, it’s just the principle of the thing.”

“Which is?”

Bucky glances over his shoulder with a smile, “That I’m better than Y/N L/N.”

_____________________________

For months now, you’ve been spending all of your time perfecting your project. You just knew you were getting that A+ from Dr. Selvig and you couldn’t wait to rub it in Bucky’s face.

You waltzed into the gym where the presentations were going to be held. All of Dr. Selvig’s students were given the same project: to create an invention made to help the misfortuned. You decided to make a prosthetic arm made out of a titanium-alloy. It could sync up to your brain which allowed it to move however the person wanted it to. 

You walked towards the table set ups, all of which were labelled for each student. Ironically enough, your table was next to Bucky’s. 

“Y/N,” he says with a smirk, looking incredibly proud.

You rolled your eyes as you set your project onto your table, “Barnes.”

“So? What did you end up making?”

“Well let me show you,” you opened your box which held your project. You set it on the table.

Bucky snorted, “Wow. An arm made out of aluminum foil. Gotta say, doll, not your best work.”

Your eyes glared when you picked up the synthetic skin chip and pressed it behind your ear, allowing it to stick to your skin. You clasped your hands together in front of you, eyes still narrowed at Bucky. 

“What’re you-”

“Shut up and watch, Barnes,” you sneered. He kept his eyes on the arm and watched as it twitched to life. The fingers wiggling around and oh so slowly did the middle finger raise up.

Bucky’s eyes widened, “Holy shit.”

You smirked, “You’re right on one thing, Barnes, it’s not my best work. It’s my greatest work.”

“Y/N!” you turn to see Billy at the gym’s entrance, waving at you.

“Hey!” you turn to Bucky with a glare, ”touch my project and you die, Barnes.” you then ran over to meet Billy, the glare that was once on your face was gone, now replaced with a smile.

Bucky’s heart dropped when he saw Billy encompass you with a hug. There was a funny feeling in his stomach and he couldn’t figure out why. 

His eyes glanced from you and Billy to your project. A darkness filled within him. He had a plan. A very terrible plan, but he didn’t know how to execute it. 

“Hey, Buck!” Steve exclaimed as he walked toward Bucky with a lunch tray. A cup of water balanced on top. Perfect.

Bucky rushed up to Steve, “Hey, Stevie, lemme get that for ya, pal.” grabbing the tray from him, “So, how’s it goin’?” Steve began to talk about his day so far, but Bucky wasn’t paying any attention. His head just nodding and saying, “Uh huh,” every second or so. When they got to his and yours table, Bucky “tripped”, the food and water on the tray flying forward and landing exactly on your project.

There was a crackling sizzle and a puff of smoke billowed from the metal arm. 

“NO!!” he heard you cry and you ran over to your table, “WHAT THE HELL!” your eyes took in the crime scene before you. Food and water completely covered your project.

“Oops,” you heard Bucky say and your head whipped towards him.

“YOU DID THIS ON PURPOSE!” you screamed as you began to hit him.

“Ah! Jesus! What? No, it was an accident, I swear!”

“One minute my project is fine and as soon as I leave, it’s ruined and you happen to be right next to it! You trying to tell me that’s a coincidence, Barnes?!”

“Uh, yeah,” Bucky said it as if it was an obvious answer.

“What’s going on here?” Dr. Selvig asked.

You pointed a finger at Bucky immediately, “Barnes ruined my project!”

“Sir, I did not! I was just helping Steve carry his tray of food and I tripped!”

“Tripped on what?! Air?!” you yelled.

“It happens!” Bucky yelled back.

Dr. Selvig stepped in-between the both of you, “Hey! Enough with the yelling match! James, did you purposely ruin Y/N’s project.” 

Bucky shook his head, “Of course not, sir.”

“LIAR!” 

Dr. Selvig turned to you, “Y/N, please.”

“Doctor Selvig, please, I worked so hard and-”

“I’m sure you did. Unfortunately, there isn’t time for you to fix it, which means I can only grade you on your write-up and blueprints.” He gave you a reassuring pat on the shoulder and walked away. 

That was when Bucky got a look at your face. It was red and your eyes were watery. You looked so...broken, “You won. Are you happy with yourself, Barnes? You won and now I’ll never get that scholarship to MIT!” you said with a cracked voice. You ran out of the gym as fast as you could. 

Billy caught eyes with Bucky. If looks could kill, Bucky was sure he’d dropped dead, “You better watch yourself, Barnes.” with that, he left to go after you.

Bucky should’ve felt proud and relieved. He’d definitely get to be valedictorian now, but why did he have a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Buck,” Steve mumbled.

“Yeah?”

“Tell me the truth, did you trip on purpose? Did you wanna ruin Y/N’s project?”

He wanted to tell the truth. He should’ve...but he just couldn’t, “Nah, Stevie. It was an accident. I swear.”

_______________________________

Bucky didn’t see you at school the next two days. For once, you’d miss school, which was a shock to him and your teachers. Again, he should feel relieved, but...he didn’t. Seeing your empty seat in every single class just made him feel guiltier and guiltier. He got a perfect score from Dr. Selvig and also his project was going to be proposed to some of the highest tech companies in the world

He was given the Valedictorian sash and was given a ‘Congratulations’ from Principal Fury...but he didn’t deserve it. You did.

So after school, he made his way to your place. With a knock on your door, he waited for someone to answer. He just didn’t expect it to be Billy Russo.

“What the hell do you want?” He sneered and Bucky gulped.

“Can I see Y/N?” 

“No. Now get outta here before I punch your teeth in.”

“Please, Billy, I just-I need to apologize to her!”

“No fucking-”

“It’s okay, Bill.” you come up to his side and pull him back, “It’ll be quick.”

Billy glared at Bucky again, “Fine. But just say the word and I’ll beat him to a pulp.”

You give him a small smile, “I know you will.” you pushed him inside and closed the door behind you. You crossed your arms over your chest, “What?”

“I-” Bucky cleared his throat, “I didn’t see you in school today.”

You shrugged, “Didn’t feel like going.”

He nodded, “Oh...um.” he opened his bag to pull out a sash with your school’s color on it. ‘Valedictorian’ was sewn onto it, “Here,” he offered it to you, “I told Doctor Selvig and Fury what I did. I was given an F for sabotage and, well, I couldn’t be valedictorian since I didn’t have the highest GPA.”

You took it, your thumb rubbing over the satin, “Why, Bucky? Why did you do it?”

He sighed, “I don’t know. I just...whenever it comes to you I just-I’m not myself! I get competitive, I say mean things, and do messed up shit. I just-I don’t know! You make me feel things that I’ve never felt before. You’re incredibly smart, funny, friendly, creative. You’re amazing, Y/N.”

“So what? You like me or something?”

He shrugged, “I don’t know. I think so?”

You scoffed, “If you like someone, Bucky, this isn’t how you’re supposed to treat them.”

His shoulders sagged and his head hung down, “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Well, um, thanks for this,” you gestured to the sash, “and for telling Selvig and Fury the truth.”

He nodded, “Yeah. You’re welcome.”

“So...I’ll see you at graduation then?”

“Yeah. See ya.” he watched as you slowly walked back to your door and go inside, softly shutting the door behind you. Bucky let out a breath of relief and went to his car to go home.

___________________________

10 Years

You’re at your high school reunion, catching up with old classmates. It was nice to see how everyone was doing, but you did wish that Billy was here. He couldn’t make it do to his tour in Iraq. Yeah. Billy was soldier, a Marine. You missed him like crazy, but you knew he was doing something that he dreamed of. 

“Y/N?” you turned around to meet a pair of blue eyes that you haven’t seen in a long time.

“James Barnes?”

He chuckled, “Yeah. Um, that’s me.” he waved, your eyes immediately catching a glint of silver. Bucky, noticing this, immediately smiled sheepishly, “Oh, um, I was in the army and got hit with a grenade.’ he shrugged off his jacket to reveal an all too familiar metal arm.

“Wait, is that-”

“The arm you designed for Selvig’s project? Yeah. Funny right?”

You immediately grabbed a hold of it, examining it on him, “I mean, I knew it was being produced and distributed to people all around the world, I just didn’t expect you to be one of ‘em.”

“Yeah. Neither did I. But when my doctor offered up the trials for it, I immediately said yes.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s your greatest work yet.”

You smiled at him, “Do you wanna get a drink after this?” you asked him.

Bucky smiled, “I love that.”

[yaachtynoboat711]

Would You Mind?

A/N: Based off of the sensual choreography to Janet Jackson’s “Would You Mind”. Janet Damita Jo Jackson is one nasty bitch. This is also my first smut. Thank you for helping me out @babygirlofwakanda !!!! Y’all go check her shit out!!!!!

Pairing: Winston Duke x Black! OC

Word Count: 3.7K

Warning: SMUT, a little fluff

——————————

Tuesday’s were studio days. Not the recording studio, but the dance studio. After work, Yaa damn near got a ticket rushing to the 6:30 class. Today was the choreography showcase. Her stilettos dance class had been working tirelessly for the last two meetings to get her choreography to Janet Jackson’s “Would You Mind” right.

Winston had watched bits and pieces of the choreography as she worked on it. He never saw the raunchier parts of it, just the complex pirouettes and shoulder flips. If you asked him, it was enough for him to check out his baby’s class for himself.

“I’m sooooo sorry I’m late,y’all! Meeting ran over and I hauled ass as soon I could!”, Yaa apologized as she rushed into the studio adjusting the drawstring on the heather gray sweatpants she’d accidentally stole from a former Yale football-playing beau on purpose. Yaa had had those sweats for years and they had become her babies. It was the perfect contrast to her blue sports bra and loose mustard crop top. Her seven waist beads hung around her waist beautifully. She’d placed her platinum locs in a messy top bun. “Alright,folks! Let’s get warmed up. Keep your heels in your bags.”

She’d opted to go barefoot for warm-ups.

In the spirit of the showcase, the warm-up music was by none other than Janet herself. Floor exercises and stretches were basically a dance party. During the transition from warm-ups to showcase, “Again” came on and Yaa took this time to remind the class she had pipes.

It was time. Yaa placed a chair near the mirror and the class parted around her like the Red Sea. “Who’s first?”, she asked the class. Silence suddenly fell over her rather lively class. “I’d hate to start calling on names randomly cuz that’s b—Sidney go.” Yaa began the song and Sidney, a rather introverted soul,came alive. She executed the choreography perfectly. She even added some rather...suggestive...moves of her own, which surprised everyone. “Whew,sis! Y’all give it up for the most improved!” Yaa hugged Sidney as she went back to her spot. Iyana, Quintell, Tiara, and Olivia all volunteered and did well.

While Olivia was performing, a familiar face attempted to sneak into the studio. It was impossible for someone Winston’s height and size to sneak anywhere, so to see him try to sneak into the back of the class made Yaa cackle. When Olivia finally finished, Yaa hugged her. “Well, class, it looks like we have a visitor. Ladies, I’d like for y’all to meet my non-stealthy ass boyfriend, Winston.” A chorus of “Ooohs” filled the room as Yaa and Wins locked eyes and began laughing. “Evening,ladies!”, Winston began, “Don’t pay me any mind, I just came to see what the pretty girl in the grey sweats was up to.” Yaa rolled in eyes in embarrassment as the class broke out in a drawn out “Awwwwwwwwwww” chorus. Winston made sure to make eye contact with his now-embarrassed fiancée.

Olivia broke the couple’s mutual gaze, “Now wait a minute,K.D., you mean to tell us that you’ve been with THICC DADDY M’BAKU this whole time and you didn’t have the nerve to tell us? Why don’t you do the dance for him? I mean, after all, the chair is there for a reason.” The remainder of the class agreed and egged their instructor on to dance for Winston.

Yaa shook her head as she began changing into her heels and out of her sweats, revealing her black dance shorts. The class playfully catcalled and gassed their instructor up as she stripped.

“WOOO K.D. GOT THAT WAGGGOOONNNNNNN!”

“Say,beautiful, what’s YO name?”

“Aye,aye! Lemme get that math,ma!”

Yaa continued to shake her head and roll her eyes. “Y’all as a collective ain’t shit. I want y’all to understand that. Somebody play the damn track before I change my mind.”, Yaa exclaimed. Boy, were those some SHAWT ass shorts. It had just enough lower cheek showing that the shorts didn’t look like boy shorts. Most of her hip tattoo was exposed and it definitely caught Winston’s eye. That tattoo was his Kryptonite and she was well aware of the effects it had on him. It may have been the reason she wore those shawt ass shorts in the first damn place. Fast ass hussy.

Yaa led Winston to the chair at the front and plopped him down in it. “This is for all the times you left me hot and bothered. Don’t even think about touching me during this dance.”,she whispered lustfully into his ear. Winston laughed deeply. “If this routine is any sexier than what your students are doing, you’re in big trouble,young lady.” Yaa was not backing down from this challenge.

———————

The music played and Yaa was in her own world. Her eyes locked onto Winston’s as the class cheered her on. Her body moved with such grace and fluidity. From the dangerously deep arch in her back to sitting in his lap and whispering sweet nasty shit in his ear, she was having a grand ol time teasing him. She allowed the lyrics to speak for her:

Baby, would you mind kissing me

All over my body

You missed a spot - there

Baby, would you mind tasting me

It's making me all juicy

Feeling your lips on mine

She even got him when she whispered her favorite lyric, “I’m wanna make you cum”, in his ear. He raised his eyebrow and the class erupted taking note on the intense chemistry the couple was displaying. They knew you had nasty tendencies, but NOTHING prepared them for the show their instructor was putting on for her beau. At the end of the routine, Winston hugged and kissed his fiancée before whispering in her ear,“You are in so much trouble, Khalida.” This was the one punishment Yaa couldn’t wait for.

—————

Yaa’s car ride home was consumed with thoughts of how Winston was going to lay the pipe on her. It’d been a few weeks since he’d last laid it down,so tonight was going to be one for the books. Before she could even get three steps into the foyer, her body was instantly pushed up against the wall with great force that damn near knocked off the expensive china on the table. With a hand to her throat and his hot breath beside her ear, she shivered when Winston began to speak. “I told you that you’d be in trouble when you got home, didn’t I? You don’t listen.”, he growled. Her lady parts began getting excited. “Now Daddy, when have I ever listened to you?”, she replied with spice in her tone.

Lifting her eyes she saw Winston’s eyes darken with pleasure and a hint of anger. Quickly gulping saliva down her throat, Yaa’s breath hitched as she felt a droplet of release dampen her underwear.

Seeing the startled face and a single bead of sweat slide down her face, Winston sickly grinned as he decided to make beg for forgiveness. Make her apologize for working him up and grinding her body on his hardened length after his multiple pleads.

Oh, he was gonna have her beg.

Tightening his grip around her neck, he pulled his face closer and stuck his tongue out tracing the her outer ear with his wet muscle. Causing a sharp intake of breath to inhale from Yaa’s mouth Winston eyes lowered with ecstasy as he pulled his mouth away. “Apologize.” He croaked, as the visual of her mouth parted and head tilted back began affect his manhood. “Oh? So we gettin’ bold today,I see. Why should I be apologi—”, Yaa’s ballsy statement was interrupted by the tightening of Winston’s hands around her neck. “Apologize for teasing me earlier, for disobeying me, and for leaking in your panties without my permission.”, he commanded with total dominance, giving Yaa no time to leisure as he tightened his grip around her neck a little more.

Only whimpering in response, Yaa felt the rise of her nipples and liquid in her panties gain weight. Hearing no response, but only watching her face twist up in further pleasure. Winston squinted his eyes, “No baby, use your words. Where was that energy when you kept showing your ass to the rest of your class, huh?”,he questioned with an underlining condescending tone of voice. Yaa felt herself going in and out of consciousness—a feeling she wasn’t necessarily opposed to. She finally mustered enough strength to tap his large arm. It wasn’t until she tapped his arm rapidly that Winston realizes his girlfriend was nearing the Ancestral Plane. He slightly loosened his grip and she immediately began gasping for air, “I already told you...that...was payback for all those times you left me high and dry at night...leaving me...months,weeks at a time...got me and my pussy in...overdrive...all for you to just...leave?!” Yaa snapped back with such gusto, considering she was just being choked out not long ago.

Hearing her response, Winston’s grip slowly regained strength as processed her answer. “Nah, Yaa. It doesn’t work like that. You got me hard in public and if I would have fallen into your trap we would have been fucking in front of your class and you don’t want that do you?” He asked, as his eyes regained the threatened look of pleasure. Yaa’s lustful gaze met his. She couldn’t answer his question with words; rather, with an intense kiss. Her lips crashing into his thick lips was a drug that Winston took pleasure in. Their tongues combatted for dominance as Winston carried Yaa up the stairs to the bedroom.“Well it looks like we’re not in public anymore now,are we? Make me apologize,Daddy.” Yaa mumbled into his lips. Winston nearly drops Yaa when she said Daddy.

She knew just how to get him riled up—calling him “Daddy” or “Big Daddy” (used only when she was off the Henny or D’usse) was a sure fire way to get him. “Strip.” He commanded as he dropped her on the bed. Without thought, the usually bull-headed and bratty Yaa did as she was told with the quickness. Sis was finally getting her dick after all this time away from her man and even she herself couldn’t get in the way of her punishment.

Watching her thick frame shuffle the bed to remove her clothing Winston took his time as he balled up the ends of shirt and gradually lifted it over his head teasing Yaa in the process. With low eyes Winston watched Yaa’s naked body come into play as he fumbled with the belt around his waist. “Lemme get this for you,Daddy.” Yaa said sensually and she traveled towards him. “Stop. On your knees...I’m only saying it once,Khalida.” He commanded as he went through his phone. “Would You Mind” began playing throughout the house. She laughed as she crawled to her Daddy. It wouldn’t be long after Yaa was back on her bullshit as she slowed her crawl significantly. She watched as Winston’s face twisted. He paused the music. “Nah,baby, you’re gonna do this right. Start that shit over.”

——————

Hearing his demand, Yaa looked up at his face that gave an unreadable expression. She couldn’t tell if he was on the verge of snapping her body or on the verge of anger. Retracing her steps back to the headboard, she watched a sly grin appear on his face.

As the song resumed, she got back into the zone. “Show me the dance one more time.” Winston demanded. He watched as his now naked fiancée showcased her visual masterpiece in front of him once again. His member began to resist against his jeans as he made note of Yaa’s waist beads and tattoos, including his Kryptonite. He loved the way the beads compliment her full waist. Winston watched as Yaa pressed her knees into the mattress and swayed her body to the song. Every thrust of her hips and breath lifting her chest sent Winston into further bliss. “—damn.” He mumbled underneath his breath as his eyes glazed over with admiration.

As the song continued on passed the choreography’s end, Yaa began to crawl back to Winston. When she approached her destination, she got up and sat in his lap as was still struggling to get his belt unfastened. “I told you I’d get it,Wins.”, Yaa said as she began unbuckling his belt.

Allowing her fingers to quickly loosen his belt Yaa freed the restrain letting the leather fall around the bulging tent underneath his pants. Flicking her eyes up Yaa spotted Winston’s head tilted back as he was put in a partial state of bliss. Taking that as an opportunity to tease him, Yaa ran her hand over his hardened length causing a throaty groan to erupt from deep within his throat.

Yaa smirked and giggled as she carefully placed her platinum locs into a ponytail. Winston looked down and caught Yaa biting her bottom lip at the sight of her blessed boyfriend’s member finally being freed. Her breath hitched as it sprung up from its restraints. “Do you like what you see, my love?” Winston asked as he subconsciously stroked his member.

Seeing his massive hands grip his thick length did wonders for Yaa. She could have sworn she felt wetness puddle underneath her and onto the comforter. Tired of gazing at the brown dick with pre-cum seeping from the tight hole on top, of his overlapping tip, Yaa placed her hand on top of Winston and lowered her head taking his manhood in her mouth.

The first drop of saliva that made contact with his sensitive muscles immediately locked Winston up. Peering down at Yaa he watched her bob her head up and down as she took her time wrapping her lips around him. “—fuck, keep going.” He grumbled, as he timidly placed his large palm on top of her head.

Feeling his hand ruff up her dreads, Yaa felt him pull her head up off of her dick. Seeing the thin lines of his pre-cum attach to his tip and the inside of her mouth made her whimper at the sight. Wanting to put her mouth back on his redden tip, she started whining until she felt him lower her head back down. Continuing to bob on him like a candy apple, Yaa went back to work as she heard a faint, “Damn.” from above. Hearing that strained “damn” was all she needed to hear.

The further she went down his length, the more his hips began to buck. By the time she’d reached his base, he was bucking and cursing. Yaa smirked before she looked up to her man, dick in mouth like a popsicle on a hot Louisiana day, “Damn, Daddy. Where ya goin’? It’s almost like...” she began licking circles around and kissing his tip, “…like you’re running away from me. You running away from me?”,said as she licked the length and sucked with more suction on his tip. He struggled to form coherent sentences,”I’m not...running awAAAY...from you...DenAAaYE!” This nigga was lying. He never called her Denae unless he was either calling her full name or during sex. “Don’t lie to me, Chris.” She could sense that he was about to bust before he could. Suddenly, she was stopped.

Her head was quickly pulled away from his length only giving her a view of his pulsating head and bulging veins snaking around his dick. “—what are you doing?” She squeaked. Hearing the faint chuckling from above she sat up straight and looked up at his conniving face. “You really thought I was going to let you drink my cum while your on punishment? Tisk..” He stated, with his voice full of control and slyness. “—besides...” he said getting up and stalking towards his prey,”...I need to *mAkE YoU aPoLoGiZe*,remember?” She shook her head at his poor attempt at her Southern accent.

————————

The spurts of cum falling on the comforter was a sight to see just as much was hearing Winston’s groans as he released his heavy load. Sitting up on her elbows, Yaa watched her man finish before he flicked up his droopy eyelids sending her a threatening look causing a shiver to roll down her spine. It was in that moment that she knew she was officially fucked and that there would be no more teasing and playing around with him; only cumming and moaning would be allowed.

The two share a lustful, almost predatory gaze. Winston stalked towards her, flipping her on her stomach around like a neglected rag doll. His hand slapping down on her right cheek made Yaa quickly get into formation and get into the proper position.

Watching her scramble on the bed, Winston gripped his girth in his hand and tapped his bulky head in between the slit of her moist lips.

He watched in admiration at the sight of this beautiful woman’s body ink. Her lower back was blessed with a vibrant tattoo of Ma’at, the Egyptian goddess of truth, a tattoo he was just seeing for the first time. Her right shoulder blade kissed with a Basquiat crown. The side of her left boob was kissed with “lust” in Arabic. My God,she is a sight to behold, he thought to himself.

Without warning, he entered his full length into her warm opening. She shrieked in pleasure and pain, mostly pain. Still not use to his powerful strokes after her many orgasms, Yaa cried, “Slow down!” as Winston immediately thrusted into her at a fast pace. “Nah, I don’t want to hear that shit.” He commanded, as he snapped his pelvis creating the loud slap to erupt throughout the room.

Yaa shrieked as loud as she possibly could. If the neighbors weren’t already listening, now would be the perfect opportunity. “Apologize.” Winston commanded. The authority in his already baritone voice made Yaa’s pussy clench in arousal. She was now at the mercy of her man’s sexual control and she was unable to speak,partly from the shock of seeing this new man wrecking her shit from the back and also because she’d screamed most of her voice away.

Hearing her loud screams quickly turn into faint ones as Winston pounded into her juicy opening. “I’m not gonna repeat myself, apologize.” Winston demanded, as he slapped his hand on her ass leaving a outline of his palm. “I’m...so...soRRRRYYYYY....Da...DADDDYYYY!” Yaa attempted to say as he was hitting her spot with every stroke. “I don’t believe it, Pumpkin. What are so sorry for?” He asked while accenting every word with a stroke more aggressive than the last. Yaa’s eyes began to sting with tears as she struggled to keep herself together.

Not slowing down to give her time to comprehend her words, Winston continued to give her deep strokes hitting her g-spot everytime. “—nah, say it again.” Winston groaned, as he felt her wetness enclose around his dick. “I said that I’m sorry daddy!” Yaa exclaimed. Meanwhile, she felt her walls began to contract against her heavy length as Winston plowed into her core. Feeling her resume Yaa’s tears started clouding her eyes and blurring her vision.

“Tell Daddy what you’re sorry for.” Winston demanded as he picked her up. “What are you do—” Yaa’s question was interrupted with a sharp smack to her left cheek. “Nah,Pumpkin, shut your mouth. You don’t get to speak.” Yaa’s back made hard contact with the wall as Yaa tried to readjust herself on the wall.

Only having a few seconds to enjoy her precious walls, Yaa was suddenly filled back up with Winston’s girth. He was literally slamming his entire body weight into Yaa’s as he thrusted into her gushing hole. Pulling back out Winston caught a glimpse of his coated dick before he plunged back into Yaa’s opening.

Yaa was no more good. Her leg was trembling and her eyes were rolling to the back of her head. It was damn near impossible for Yaa to form words, yet alone coherent sentences. “Da...daddy...I—I’m sss...sor...ry...for...FUCK!” “For what, Pumpkin? Talk to Daddy.” “Fo...for...teasing you...all...this time...and...FUUUCCCCKKKK!!!!”, she was riding out nut #3, “...act...acting out...RIGHT TH—SHIIIIIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT! JUST LIKE THAT,DADDY!!!!”

Her sweat draped over her body like a coat as she desperately clawed at Winston’s back. “Daddy, I’m about to cum.” Yaa whispered in his ear. Her request goes unanswered. In a elevated state of pleasure, Winston subconsciously blocked out his other senses and focused on her nipple.

The stimulant became too much for Yaa as she felt her lower half pulsate and secrete. “Fuck, Winston!” She yelled, before tossing her head back abruptly hitting the wall.

Following closely behind Yaa the large man began to shoot his load deep within her cervix. “C’mon, Daddy. Just like that .”,she cooed in his ear as she gazed into his deep coffee orbs.

Feeling Winston fill her up until the brim, Yaa felt the dripping of their shared cum oozing out and around his thick length.

The room was filled with grunts and moans as they finally come down from their shared euphoria. They’d unlocked a new realm of bliss, something they'd never experienced with anyone else. Despite the aggressive nature of their sexual episode, this was lovemaking at its finest. They knew each other’s needs and satisfied them. Their souls became intertwined and their sexual energies were in tandem.

After getting herself together, Yaa got back in bed. As she stared at the ceiling, she sensed something was off. Off wasn’t necessarily bad; just different. They’d gone unprotected a handful of times, but she’d felt this indescribable sensation in her core.

———————

The darkness of the sky quickly transforming into light quickly woke Winston up as the chirping of the birds outside gave away the time of day. Seeing Yaa’s blonde dreads stuffed in his arms he watched the yellow sun rays cascade down on his love. Shifting her in his arms ,Winston seen her eyes flutter as they opened. Looking down at Yaa’s sleepy gaze he immediately knew something about her was different. Glancing at her face he knew there wasn’t a physical change, but perhaps a spiritual change that brewed overnight after their passionate lovemaking.

The cake to my ice cream:

@eriknutinthispoosy @vanitykocaine @babygirlofwakanda @great-neckpectations @muse-of-mbaku @eerythingisshaka @texasbama @maya-leche @bartierbakarimobisson @wakandas-vibranium @wakandan-flowerz @sarahboseman @niquelafleur @teheeboo @dacreskars @storibambino @summertimesadnesswithadashofsass @randomwordprompts @panthergoddessbast @stressedgyal @kumkaniudaku @dramaqueenamby @brianabreeze @royallyprincesslilly

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Man Like Me

Tony Stark x Reader

Words: 2450

Summary: High-class parties and a disapproving mother is all you’ve ever known. Then he came along. The unconventional, reckless, and undeniably handsome Tony Stark. Becoming fast friends, you spend more and more time with the Iron Man, finding yourself falling in love. Of course, your mother has plenty to say. (Based on the amazing song Man Like Me sung by none other than Robert Downey Jr.)

Notes: I don’t know how I didn’t think of this before. I’ve always loved this song and I think it fits really well with Tony. Let me know what you think!

This is the night I’ve been dreaming of forever

The mirror takes a look at my face

You smoothed the fabric of your dress as you walked into the packed ballroom. Even after years of attending galas and parties, the nerves still hadn’t subsided. There was always somebody watching your every move, judging every decision. Why is she still sitting at the table? She should be jumping at the chance to mingle with so many young and charming bachelors. She’s always looked down on society’s values. Perhaps she believes she is too above any of our sons to marry.

They all mistook your quiet nature for snobbery. In truth, you really found them all to be quite a bore. Every man that you’d ever met was in love with money and politics and the proper ways of living. They would never accept you. Your hair was never the right style, you didn’t wear the right designers. You were awkward and shy and nobody seemed to see that. It was impossible to please people who lived to be displeased with life.

Per usual, you found your seat at one of the enormously decorated tables and watched as others paired up to dance. Your mother cast you a glare as she joined you at the table. She was the worst of all of them. No matter how hard you tried, you had never been good enough for her. When you went to Yale, she turned up her nose and said you could’ve gone to Harvard. There was nothing that would change her.

Cameras flashed as a man walked into the ballroom with a smug smile on his face. Your mother rolled her eyes, but you were intrigued. Of course, you knew who he was, everyone knew who he was. Tony Stark was all anybody everyone talked about. The man was a goddamn superhero.  You were too lost in your thoughts to notice the billionaire waltzing towards your table.

“You know, I usually hate assigned seating at parties,” Tony stated, standing next to your chair. He leaned over and kissed your hand. “Maybe it won’t be so bad.”

“T-there must be some mistake.” Your mother flustered. Tony shrugged at her and picked up the name tag.

“Is anyone else here named Tony Stark?” He shouted over the crowd. Everyone went silent and stared at him and, therefore, at you. You tried to hide behind your hand. When no one said anything, Tony turned back to your mother. “I guess this is my seat then.” He flashed her a debonair smile and sat down next to you. You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself over her shocked and infuriated expression.

You felt Tony’s gaze on you and looked him to see a smile creeping across his face. More surprisingly, you smiled back, blush rushing to your cheeks. You took a sip of wine as another family joined the table. You nearly choked on your drink as your ex-fiance smirked at you.

“Johnathan! How lovely to see you!” Your mother exclaimed. You felt disgust rise in your stomach. Of course, even after everything he had done to you, she still worshiped him.

“Celia, how are you?” He asked sweetly.

“It’s been so long since we’ve seen you, hasn’t Y/N.” Your mother eyed you. You forced a smile.

“Indeed. What have you been up to Jonathan?” Besides cheat on your fiance with multiple different prostitutes. Tony seemed to notice your discomfort and decided to cut in.

“I don’t believe we’ve met, Mr….?”

“Marcus. Jonathan Marcus.” You could feel his eyes slide towards you and you stared daggers right back. “So, how did the two of you meet?” He motioned to you and Tony. Seriously? Was he getting jealous?

“Actually, we just met. The luck of the draw.” He pointed to his name tag.

“Charming,” Jonathan replied in his sickly sweet voice that you’d grown to hate. As more people took their seats for dinner, others swayed to the music that lulled in the background. You’d never much cared for classical, but there were a few songs that you enjoyed.

“I love this song, don’t you, Jonathan?” Your mother gushed. As soon as she mentioned it, you recognized the familiar tune. It was the song you were supposed to dance to on your wedding. “Why don’t the two of you dance?” She suggested and your jaw dropped.

“I don’t really think that’s appropriate.” You gritted your teeth.

“Nonsense.” She waved her hand. “For old time’s sake.” You slammed your napkin down on the table and pushed out your chair as you stood.

“I think I need some fresh air.” You stormed away from the table, disregarding any thought of being ‘ladylike’. Luckily the room had a large terrace looking over the city. It was empty, so you didn’t have to deal with any more judgemental glares. In fact, you were totally alone until you heard a voice behind you.

“That was quite the exit.” Tony approached you and you felt your face turn red.

“She’s the vilest woman I have ever met.” You muttered angrily, leaning on the stone railing. “After everything…” You suddenly realized that you were telling all of this to not only a stranger but to Iron Man. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He shrugged and held out his hand. “But I would hate for you to be stuck out here by yourself.” You skeptically took his hand and he pulled you close to him. “May I have this dance?”

“I think it’s a little late for that.” You snickered, considering that you were already starting to sway.

“Ah, but you haven’t pushed away.” He noted with a smirk. You had to give it to him, he was smooth. “So what was the deal back there, anyway?” You blew out a breath.

“It’s a long story.” Tony gave you a smile that made your head spin and lowered you into a dip.

“I’ve got time.”

So when I ask if you won’t give me your hand

I’ll take it right now from your mother’s side of town

You tiptoed across the bedroom floor, grabbing a spare button-up shirt from the dresser as you snuck out into the kitchen. You were dying for a good cup of coffee. As your feet touched the first tile, a voice caught you off guard, a surprised yelp escaping your lips.

“What can I get for you, Miss Y/N?” Jarvis asked. Seeing that he’d startled you, he apologized. “I didn't mean to frighten you.”

“It-” You took a deep breath. “It’s fine.” You were going to have to get used to the artificial intelligence’s presence.

“Could I interest you in a latte?” He wondered, the coffee machine turning on. “Mr. Stark has installed a range of flavors to choose from.” You smirked. Ever since you’d started seeing each other, he’d made Stark Towers as much of a home to you as your own. It had only been about a month since you met at the gala, but you were falling completely in love with him. As your coffee poured into your mug, warm arms slipped around your waist and you felt lips press into the skin of your neck.

“Good morning,” Tony muttered against your skin.

“Hi.” You greeted in response, bringing your hand up to tangle your fingers in his hair. He rested his chin on your shoulder and started to sway you back and forth.

“I want to take you to dinner tonight.” He stated simply. You turned around to face him.

“You know why we can’t.” You said with a heavy sigh. Tony rolled his eyes.

“I get it. Your mother is intense and she hates my guts, but you’re a grown woman. I’m pretty sure she can’t ground you anymore.” He smirked. “Not that I don’t appreciate being your number one booty call.” You smacked his shoulder and broke away from him.

“You are a scoundrel, Tony Stark. No wonder my mother doesn’t like you.” You walked around the kitchen, Tony trailing after you, determined.

“A scoundrel with dinner reservations at your favorite restaurant.” He put his hands together, begging. “You can’t say no, I’ve already spent the money.”

“Like that put a dent in your fortune.” You snorted.

“You aren’t saying no…” Tony smiled hopefully. You couldn’t help but smile back.

“I’m not saying yes…” He kissed your cheek and brushed passed you.

“I’ll have Happy pick you up at eight.” He called over his shoulder. “Wear that red dress!” He vanished before you had a chance to object. You shook your head and laughed to yourself. Your feet carried you around the kitchen, dancing as you remembered that first night, the two of you swaying under the moonlight. It all still felt like a dream and you were so afraid to wake up.

She says you’re throwing life away

To move with a man like me

To your surprise, you didn’t feel the need to hide behind your menu or drink until the world became blurry. All you saw and felt was him. His smile, his eyes, his loveable sarcastic wit. It just felt… right.

“There’s something I have been meaning to tell you.” You confessed. Tony dramatically leaned forward, letting you know that his attention was all yours. “It’s about the night we met, actually. Why I got so upset when my mother suggested that I dance with Jonathan.”

“I have to admit, I’ve always wondered about that.”

“We were,” You paused, staring into your wine glass and watching the light shine through the drink, “engaged. I was young and he was rich and my mother had been so happy with the match. I thought that I was happy, but…” You trailed off and Tony laid his hand on top of yours. “He cheated on me.” You brought your gaze back up to his. “Of course, mother didn’t want to ruin his reputation, so we said that we split because of career differences. The song that was playing at the gala was supposed to be our wedding song.” There was a moment of silence and it was agonizing.

“He’s an idiot.” Tony noted, but then his expression was serious. “Why do you always do what she says? No matter how she treats you, you care about what she thinks of you.” You shrugged.

“All my life she’s made me feel like I owe her something.” You felt as if you were finally admitting everything to yourself. You’d never told anyone how you really felt before. “Like, because she gave birth to me, I am her little doll that she gets to dress up for parties.” You took a deep breath, the words just tumbling out of your lips. “She doesn’t even care what Jonathan put me through. She just wants me to be like her and be the sweet, silent wife while my husband makes money for me to spend on useless things like silk curtains and earrings that weigh twenty pounds. She wants me to believe that that’s all I am. An object for her to manipulate so she can have that picture perfect life, no matter what she has to do to get it. Sometimes, I just don’t see the point in trying to defy her because it doesn’t matter. When it comes to her I’ll always feel… powerless.”

You gasped, completely out of breath. You hadn’t met to say all of that, especially not that last part. You wanted Tony to see you as powerful and confident as he was. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him.

“Do you want to get out of here?” He wondered.

“What?” You gave him a confused look.

“I’m really not in the mood for all these fancy people.” He made it seem completely casual, but you could tell that this was his way of telling you that he understood. You gave him a small smile and agreed, the two of you finishing your wine and leaving in a peaceful kind of quiet.

You ended up back at Tony’s place, lounging on the couch in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of shorts with a glass of bourbon in your hand.

“Better?” Tony asked. You nodded.

“Much.” He sat down next to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “That break down at the restaurant was not planned.” You swore as you laid your head on his shoulder.

“You’re talking to the guy who wrote the book on ‘daddy issues’.” He chuckled. “Everything that you’re going through with your family, I get it.” He pulled back to look down at you. “But I want us to actually be together. Not in secret, not hiding from your mother, actually a couple.”

“I want that too.” You agreed, leaning towards him for a kiss. Your cell phone rang from your pocket and both of you groaned at the interruption. “Hello?” You answered.

“You’re with that man aren’t you?” The other voice snapped.

“Mother?” You exclaimed and Tony took your hand, questions in his eyes. You just shrugged in response. “What do you want?”

“I want you to stop seeing that- that- disgrace.” Her voice was shrill and demanding. You clenched your fists.

“Look, I am done pretending to be anything other than who I am for you.” Before she could say anything, you continued. “You can do whatever you want to me, I don’t care. I’m with Tony and I’m not going to stop seeing him. And he is far from a disgrace. Tony has saved lives and he tries to change the world for the better, which is more than you’ve ever done filling your own pockets. He’s noble and-and brilliant. He’s a hero and if you can’t see that then your arrogance has blinded you.”

“How dare y-”

“And one day I hope to be like that because I will never, ever be like you.” You were gripping the phone so tightly, you thought it might shatter. You could hear as your mother composed herself.

“If you hang up this phone, you can forget all of it- the money, your social standing. You will be known as the girl who threw it all away for nothing.”

“I’ll remember that when people see me with one of the richest, most successful men in the country.” You sneered. “Goodbye, mother.” And without another word, you hung up. You felt a wave of power wash over you.

“I knew you were only dating me for the money,” Tony smirked. “Or maybe it’s my brilliance. Or my nobility.” You picked up a pillow and shoved it into his face. He grabbed your hands and pulled them away, pulling you in for a kiss.