#I loved writing this but after typing like a woman possessed for four days I think I went a little overboard.

[jensettermandu]

birthday wish - jennie kim

genre; smut, slight angst, fluff, smut with some plot

pairing; jennie x g!p reader

content; breeding kink, oral (reader giving), spanking, rough sex, degrading, humiliation, creampie (?), brattiness, probably missed something

synopsis; it's her birthday and she only has one wish

wc; 17k+

masterlist

a/n: this was written in two days, sorry if it is not up to standard with my usual writing. i forgot about the bday since i don't usually write for anything special for them

Loud music, drinks (many free ones), dancing, and partying in a way she hadn’t been able to do in a couple of months. She was finally able to party like a teen which had been hard. Jennie had turned 28 and was reaching her peak yet at some point everything had turned sour and bitter in her life. It wasn’t unusual, things would always go up and down and she was old enough to accept it.

What was a lot harder to accept was the break-up she had with her ex-girlfriend about four months ago. The concept of not being good for each other, that loving wasn’t enough if they brought out these bad sides of jealousy, possessiveness, and the fights it would cause. It was a tough fall to break up with someone who she had started seeing when she was in her early 20s–22 to be exact and broken up with later on. That was someone she had spent half of her tweenies with.

That person who she had been at a peak with, who always made her feel like a teen in love. Who flew her through the sky, into a new universe and now had her crash back down to earth after a high that lasted for five years. Five years had been bumpy, but it didn’t matter if they had been trying all the time. There was only so long they could go off of feeling like teens when they were adults. At some point the fun had to be limited, or did it have to be? Did she have to grow up? 

It was her Birthday.

Jennie and her friends had pre-gamed before they went bar hopping.

The idea?

They couldn’t wait for Jennie to get laid now that she was over her ex-girlfriend who they liked to call an asshole. Jennie would argue about that because she wasn’t an asshole. She just loved too hard and so did Jennie. An asshole wouldn’t be able to give Jennie the best years of her life despite having many more to come, nor would an asshole be able to give her mind-blowing sex.

The sex.

Jennie had found herself horny for the past month.

Jennie had found herself pathetically wasting money on sex toys that sufficed for the moment, but not long term.

All that, but she hadn’t been able to go out and meet someone to hook up with.

She was scared she would get disappointed and feel like only one person could satisfy her truly.

The woman wasn’t supposed to be running back to her ex after crying for two months straight, and then managing to slowly start functioning normally on the third and now was the fourth and she was out partying–looking to get laid and fully forget her ex by finding someone who could fuck her good enough.

Fuck it out of her mind, leave her memories a blur.

It was the third place they had been to.

“Anyone hot yet? We’re not leaving until you leave first because you’re going to drop your panties for a stranger.” Lisa was right by her ear as she spoke, shot still in her hand as the dozen girlfriends that Jennie was with had just been served another round.

“You have to lose your post-breakup virginity, babe.” Jisoo came from the other side and spoke into her ear, making Jennie giggle at the slurred words of the drunk woman.

“I’m literally on it, I’ve been standing and looking pretty the whole night,” Jennie argued as she wasn’t the one to walk up to someone.

“To sex!” Lisa’s words earned squeals and shouts from the other girls, Jennie drowned herself in yet another shot. Her world was slowly starting to spin, knowing that in three more shots, she would be perfectly drunk. That type that left her euphoric and not blackout drunk.

“I will be back.” Jennie found herself making it to the bathrooms, there was no line fortunately for her as she walked in. The music was still making her body vibrate despite being muffled in the bathroom that was filled with the chatter of girls in the cubicles and by the sink.

She was trying her best, but it was difficult to just throw herself back out there. There were plenty of fish in the sea, but the deep waters would always be scary and she had just managed to dip herself in it.

She reached into her purse after finishing her quick business as her phone had started to buzz. Her eyes squinted to read the texts that were a tinge blurry, all she could tell was that they were from her friends who had spammed the group chat and made it hard to understand what the topic was or why they were texting incoherent words to begin with.

“Jesus!” Jennie exclaimed at the bang that came on her door, making her shut her phone off right away. Her heart jumped at how scared she got and she planted her hand against the door for safety even if there were other people in the bathroom.

“Knock knock.” Her heart jumped much higher now.

“Y/n?” She questioned the voice that was all too familiar and made her whole body feel like jelly from the second she heard it.

“Hey, sexy.”

“No, definitely not, Y/n–get the fuck away from me.” It was like a disease if Y/n touched her. She would get infected right away.

Fun fact: Jennie lied to her friends when she said that she was over Y/n.

“Happy Birthday, Jen–”

“Please, we’re over, I do not want to see you and you know it, Y/n.” Jennie was desperate for the girl to leave. Her night had been perfect and now that Y/n had appeared from nowhere, she knew what mistakes she would make and how the night would get better because she missed Y/n. The easiest fish to catch for Y/n was Jennie, she reeled her in with ease.

It never was a messy breakup as they agreed on it, but it still took a toll because despite knowing that they at times were no good for each other, they still loved strongly. They loved each other stronger than anyone else, even their families didn't get that kind of love and Jennie loved her mother dearly. Which also made it an easy decision that was hard to go through with.

“Do I? I know that I want to see you, Jennie. I am quite sure you want to see me too.” Jennie heaved a sigh, staring at the stall door while fighting all these urges. She wanted to convince herself that she would stand in this cubicle until her death just to avoid Y/n. That if she walked out of it she would walk right past her and not look back because they were supposed to be looking at their future.

This was the woman Jennie had planned a future with.

She would let Y/n spit that addicting poison right back into her mouth, there were still remnants of it left as she hadn’t moved on.

She unlocked the cubicle.

God, Jennie was weak, as in literally and metaphorically.

Y/n blocked the way as she stepped inside the cubicle and closed it before locking it too. She leaned back against the door and her eyes took in Jennie to the fullest.

The brunette widened her eyes and looked up at the girl who was younger by a few months as she had that usual enigmatic smile that always made Jennie curious about what she was thinking. That always drew Jennie in and made her cling to her and ask about it all, the answers were always the best. Her face was still as perfect as when they met, those eyes that would always gaze with adoration, perfectly plump lips, upturned nose, her slim figure, and all that Jennie always was attracted to when it came to her looks. Although, it had always been far more than just her looks that Jennie was attracted to.

“Sexy was no joke–” Y/n stopped talking, realising that she hadn’t seen her in four months after seeing each other every day for the past five years and living together for the past three and a half. The cubicle was getting Jennie’s scent trapped, the one that made it possible to sleep at night and Y/n had to spray her sheets with it unless she wanted more sleepless nights. The woman was dressed simply yet she made it look complicated with her beauty, a backless top, and black cargos, her figure shown off. Black had always been her colour and Y/n had always loved her in black, from clothes to lingerie.

Neither of them was over the other.

“Y/n.” Jennie said and her hands came up to plant themselves against Y/n's stomach when she stepped closer. Y/n smiled, her hand brushing over Jennie’s bare arm and it was enough to send shocks of familiarity and longing through the kitten's whole body. It was like it was shaking her from how electric it was, it was as if her body was charged right back up and coming back to life.

She sighed and suddenly took the few steps back that were needed for her back to touch the stall and make her somewhat squirm at how cold it was against her shoulder blades. It was overwhelming to have Y/n so close to her, their eyes stuck right together, those emotions of longing, and sadness, yet so much happiness at the back of it all of seeing one another again.

“It was so different waking up today with an empty bed and no Jennie to spoil from morning to night—it was more than an empty bed.” Y/n’s tone fell, one that was loud enough just for Jennie to hear. The slender fingers reached up to the face that held home on it, fingers running along Jennie’s jaw. It was still the same woman, the one Y/n fell in love with.

This was so bad for the Jennie who had lied about moving on.

This was so good for the Jennie who never wanted to move on.

Jennie grabbed hold of Y/n’s hand and removed it from her face, although she didn’t let go of it. It felt too good to hold her again. “How did you know I would be here? You weren’t looking for me, were you?” A sly and cheeky smile graced Y/n’s lips at the question. Out of the whole nightlife of Seoul she still somehow managed to run into her. It was the popular area in Gangnam, one they used to head to all the time, but still.

“No, not much better to do on weekends than to go out with friends now that I don’t have you. I knew it was your birthday, so all I did was hope that you would show up at this club at some point.” She had hoped she would at least catch a glimpse of her. It was shot in the dark as Seoul was big and it had been hours since they went out, but all she did was hope that Jennie would head out for her birthday–hopefully without anyone new.

“I’ve missed you–a lot.” Y/n was the first to admit it, her fingers intertwined with Jennie’s as she had never let go of her hand. She raised it before pinning it beside her head, taking that small step that left them dangerously close to each other. Jennie gripped Y/n’s black sweatshirt, unsure if she wanted to push her away or drag her closer.

“I’ve missed you too.” There wasn’t a single nerve in her body that could make her hold back on those words. Jennie looked down at Y/n’s lips as she had licked them. God knew how much she had missed her. It couldn't have been healthy. It made Jennie act out in way she hadn't done before. It made her feel crazy. 

“Are you here with someone?” Y/n knew the question could have many answers, she was praying for one that didn’t involve someone who had replaced her. Could anyone replace her?

“With–” The answer came before Jennie could utter it herself.

“Jennie?” It was Jisoo.

Followed by Lisa. “Are you here?”

“You think she just left?” Chaeyoung questioned.

“Check the stalls?”

The two looked at each other. It would be bad news for Jennie if she was seen with Y/n in the same cubicle right now. There was no way she would be able to explain herself and even if she would be able to–was it bad that she didn’t want to leave just yet? Maybe the best gift she could have received on her birthday was to fill that hole that had been left after an important part of her life had left. Even for one night.

Their silent communication worked wonders still after being away for four months. Y/n stepped back, grabbing hold of the top of the stall as she got on top of the toilet seat while helping Jennie up by pulling her by her hand. The two somehow managed to squeeze on that seat, holding onto one another to not fall.

Even if it was just for a night, it would still make it another memorable birthday.

Jennie didn’t have to tell her friends about it.

“I swear to God if she left with her.” The two looked at each other at what Chaeyoung said.

“Are you sure it was Y/n?”

“Yes, I could recognise that little shithead from miles away.”

“What did you tell them–” Jennie covered Y/n’s mouth so they wouldn’t be heard by accident. It was baffling to the girl to hear Chaeyoung talk about her like that. Had they both agreed to a breakup if Jennie had talked bad about Y/n to relieve her gloom and anger?

“She’s over her.”

“Who knows anymore? It’s like she’s someone completely different without her and it’s not even in a good way.” Y/n’s eyes softened at the words that left Jisoo and Jennie hid her face in her arm as she was still covering Y/n’s mouth.

“Maybe she found a hookup and forgot to text–just send another message because she’s not here.”

The two waited for a good minute before they climbed down the toilet seat and Jennie opened her phone to see the text in the group chat. This time she scrolled up to see that they were all saying how Y/n was at the bar and they were waiting for Jennie so they could leave for a new one. She decided to text them about finding a hookup.

“What did you tell them to hate me so much?” Y/n questioned again and Jennie put her phone away.

“I was pissed okay–cut me some slack if you were the one to walk out the door,” Jennie grumbled and opened the stall as she walked out of it at last. Y/n followed right after her, picking up in her pace as the shorter girl took quick steps until she got to the countertop with the sinks.

“Hey, hey, I thought it was a mutual agreement to break up.” Now Y/n was confused because despite it feeling almost impossible to leave they agreed on it. She thought they both left with the same intentions and the same mindset. They loved each other, but at times it felt like they did love too much and it held them back.

“Yeah, it felt like I had no other choice but to agree when you suggested that we break up.” Jennie had tried to force that mindset on herself, to be on the same page because she knew what the problem was of being together and still living in the past. They needed to grow up. It was stupid, she did want to grow up, but she didn’t want to grow apart. It caused her temporary depression, anger, and frustrations which she took out by bad-mouthing Y/n to her friends. It hurt her to see the woman she had spent five years with just walk out the door as if Jennie hadn’t been a major part of her life.

“Are you angry at me because you didn’t tell me how you felt?”

“Yes, I am because what would it change if I said no? I thought you knew me well enough to understand that I didn’t want any of this, Y/n.” The latter was in disbelief at the words as she stood behind Jennie who was furiously washing her hands. It went quiet between the two of them, the only thing filling the silence was the muffled music and chatter of people around them. No one around them mattered though, they never did when they were together. It was like they were in a different world with each other.

Jennie stopped and held onto the counter, a frown on her face as she looked at Y/n through the mirror. She felt like a fool for being the only one, for thinking that Y/n would be able to read her mind. She knew that it was her fault too because it had been a suggestion and she agreed when she felt like there was no other choice. There was a reason why she had suggested it and Jennie knew that it was valid. She just didn’t want to go through with it and stupidly expected for Y/n to read her mind like some idiot. 

“Come on.” Y/n didn’t answer the question. She couldn’t answer it because she didn’t want to hurt Jennie by making her realise the time they wasted away from each other. Y/n would have stayed. She only suggested what she thought would benefit them both, it did in one way as it let them realise what they truly needed. 

They needed each other.

She grabbed her hand and Jennie was led through the club. She just let her steal her away. It was how they met and she would always let Y/n drag her anywhere like the first time they met at a party where Y/n dragged her away from it only to give her the most memorable night of her life by showing her how to let go.

“Jacket, why do you not have a jacket?” Y/n questioned as they stepped out of the bar and were met by the cold night of January with snow lying around.

“I left it in the car we came in.” Y/n shook her head while exhaling through her nose and removing the oversized leather jacket she had on.

“You’re being stupid–What’re you even planning to do?” Jennie questioned, Y/n was now left in the black loose sweatshirt as she moved behind Jennie. The girl looked back while putting her arms through the sleeves. She was confused, but she couldn’t just walk away. She had no idea what Y/n was planning on doing. They weren’t together, they were supposed to live their own lives, and she had no clue why she had stayed. What was the plan if they were broken up?

“It would feel wrong to run into you and not give you a gift on your birthday,” Y/n argued, coming back around and bending her knees slightly to grab the ends of the jacket to zip it up. Jennie was drowning in the warmth that Y/n had left after her together with the scent that she wanted to bury her face in. It felt like she would maybe regret it afterwards because she was quite sure they would go back to their new lives right after parting ways again. It would feel like the break-up all over again.

“I do not expect anything from you if we aren’t toge–” Y/n didn’t seem to listen to Jennie when she grabbed her hand and made her walk beside her. She didn’t hold her hand like they always used to do, but her palm rested against Jennie’s lower back to make sure that she wasn’t getting lost anywhere.

It was crowded with people, they were flooding from everywhere and Y/n kept walking without a stop. She was stuck with her gaze on Y/n who looked down at her with a small smile. It was enough to make Jennie’s world blind and her heart bounce in a familiar beat. Had she just broken Jennie’s walls down once again, but even quicker than she did the first time? It was frustrating. She let Y/n in so easily when she should lock her out, put up millions of walls, higher than the sky, with no way in or out. 

“Y/n?”

There was so much she could tell her right now and she couldn’t tell how Y/n would respond to any of it.

“I know it’s a lot to ask for after everything, but could you do one thing for me, Jennie? To just forget everything for two hours, three tops.” Y/n interrupted all the questions Jennie would like to ask. She felt horrible to know the truth that they both agreed to something they thought the other wanted. Y/n never wanted to break up with her, but neither did she want to be an obstacle in Jennie’s life. The stupid little fights they had still hurt them both, the last thing Y/n ever wanted was to hurt Jennie, but she still somehow did. 

She knew that she should have known, and maybe she did at the back of her head since she had known Jennie for over five years. Things sometimes just didn’t go as planned.

It wasn’t hard to forget when she was with her again. Y/n made everything bad go away.

“Fine, Y/n,” she still trusted her with her life. She'd jump right back into those deep waters where her only safety was Y/n. 

“Okay, sit down right here and do not run away,” Y/n said after they had entered a convenience store. She pulled the stool out and guided Jennie to sit on it who was still busy figuring out what the girl was doing and why they had to pass so many other stores and stop at this one. With no other choice, Jennie sat and only glanced back at Y/n who disappeared between the shelves. There was slight anticipation growing in her the whole time, she stayed fiddling with her fingers as she rested her hands atop the table.

She stopped for a moment, grabbed the collar of the jacket that was oversized and pulled it up to her nose. The scent had washed off of her clothes at home, the clothes Y/n had left behind had been worn to where the scent no longer lingered on them and she had to wash them. It made Jennie curious how Y/n went through it.

Had she also been pathetically looking through endless photos in her gallery?

Drowned herself in Jennie’s scent?

Had Y/n finished the season finale of the series they had been watching together, but broke up right when the finale came out. Jennie had been waiting even if they weren’t together and would never get to know the end.

Had she been dwelling in all their plans for the future that now only was a past?

Had she been hurting just as much?

Jennie heaved a sigh and let go of the collar, reaching her hands up to her eyes as she knew that she wasn’t over Y/n. She was holding on, she was even out with Y/n even if it would feel like the break up all over again once Y/n would leave. Her fingers gently patted away the wetness that had warmed in her eyes. How did she let go of something that was securing her from falling off the ride?

It was time to stop dwelling when Y/n sat down right beside her on the vacant stool.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” The girl sucked air through her teeth and quickly put the noodle bowl down that was steaming. Jennie looked at what more she somehow managed to carry when she leaned over and dropped the things on the table.

“Since I am no chef, this is the best I could do and the ramen is how you like it.” She started while taking the ice cup and opening it. Jennie slid it over to herself and peeled off the lid fully. It was just ramen with Y/n making it fancier and better by adding more toppings; Jennie was desperate as she could never get it right since Y/n always made it for her the way Jennie loved it. It was just instant ramen, but it was her comfort food which hadn’t been the comfort she had been looking for. It would somehow suffice for now.

“Thanks.” She was a bit more than thankful, but she wasn’t sure how else she should thank her.

“Don’t thank me, it’s your birthday.” Jennie chuckled at that as she grabbed the chopsticks and looked at Y/n who poured the mango-flavoured iced tea into the cup with ice.

“Very thoughtful to drag me to a convenience store.” Y/n shook her head and picked up the cup, taking two big gulps before placing it back down.

“Yeah, God forbid I drag you to a fancy restaurant–don’t worry though…” Y/n trailed off and Jennie moved back slightly when she reached over to her. She smiled at Jennie, her face just a few inches away from Jennie’s as she reached over to the other side. Y/n’s hand reached into the right pocket of her jacket that Jennie had on while sitting on her left.

Jennie wasn’t sure what she wanted when Y/n was so close to her. One thing she was certain of was that she missed all of Y/n’s loving and caring touches, the ones that always touched her soul. Jennie missed being held in her arms, falling asleep with them around her. She missed the safety, the security that came from being in them, and the feeling of not having to be afraid to be herself because she trusted Y/n so much.

She grabbed what she was looking for with a sly grin as she pulled away. “If you celebrate, you have to celebrate right, don’t you?” Y/n let out in a more hushed tone that was still honeyed and Jennie could listen to her talking all day. That was something she had done because Y/n always had something to talk about.

The kitten parted her lips at the flask Y/n had taken out of her pocket, taking the cup down and placing it between her thighs. “Since when do you carry a flask around?” Jennie questioned, the last time she had seen Y/n with one was when they were still in college. It kind of worried her that maybe the girl had started drinking. Y/n let out a breathless chuckle, unscrewing the steel flask before filling the iced tea back up to the brim, but this time with tequila.

“Only today.” She reassured Jennie and lolled her head to the side to look at Jennie. That smile did not leave as she put the lock on, the flask back in the left pocket instead and she put the straw through the lock before mixing it up. 

Jennie rolled her eyes as she, at last, started to eat the instant ramen that tasted better than most things she had ever eaten simply because it was made by Y/n. It also was something that killed all her cravings that were caused by the alcohol and food had simply never tasted better. Y/n always knew just what Jennie needed by looking at her. Yet she had somehow missed how Jennie never truly wanted to part ways.

“Just don’t inhale everything, I want a bite before you do.” Y/n laughed when Jennie elbowed her, making Y/n squirm away. “God, you’re rude.”

“Stop being a little piece of shit, Y/n.” Jennie seriously said and looked at Y/n who was already looking at her through her lashes with the straw in her mouth. “Not cute.”

“I tried.” Y/n said in defeat and handed the large plastic cup to Jennie who slid the ramen over to her with the chopsticks. “Oh, my bite is gonna come with extra flavours since there are Jennie germs in it.” Jennie hurt her throat when she swallowed the lump of iced tea with tequila before she could spit it out because she felt that huff before she giggled.

“Stop acting imbecilic.”

“Imbecilic, big words for a 28-year-old. I can say that I’m proud of you.” Jennie rolled her eyes and watched Y/n slurp up a bite of noodles with a hum after. “So good–”

“Don’t.” Jennie stopped her before she could say something stupid again and pulled the ramen back to herself. It was all coming right back, just being with Y/n for a few minutes, starting a conversation, and she was reminded all again why she loved her so much. How she made her feel so good about herself, how she cut Jennie slack by being herself which let Jennie drop all her guards down right away and be herself too. How she was back to feeling ten years younger and like she could just be herself for the night or whenever she got back home to Y/n–used to.

“Here, the monster is coming for your mouth, Jennie.”

“You did not just say that out loud Y/n.” Jennie giggled, the younger girl holding the gimbap and guiding it towards her mouth as it was still in one piece. Y/n gasped and looked at Jennie in disbelief. “Ew, why are you being dirty-minded, Jen.” She slapped Y/n’s shoulder, her cheeks hurting from how much she had been smiling and giggling. It didn’t matter if Y/n had asked her to forget everything for a few hours, Y/n automatically made her forget everything.

“You are, I didn’t say that I had something dirty in mind.” She defended herself. The two did not care about the rest of the people who went in and out of the store, or the people passing by the window. The radio played the most recent K-pop songs to fill the store, but all they could focus on were each other's words, giggles, and stares which were numbing all the pain.

Y/n grinned and shot her eyebrows up in a manner that suggested that the next words to leave her mouth would be far from appropriate as she still held the gimbap up ready to feed the feline. “Well, you can surely open wide enough for it to fit–” Y/n squeaked at the pain when Jennie this time hit her thigh, hitting a nerve because the pain made her hunch over.

“Not fitting at all.” Y/n chuckled at the words that came from Jennie and she looked up at her as she was still hunched over. “Is the joke not fitting or the gimbap?” Jennie groaned at that and Y/n sat up straight.

“Okay, here comes the train–Better?” Y/n asked.

Jennie hummed and opened her mouth as Y/n went back to trying to feed her a bite after they both devoured the noodles together. She grabbed hold of Y/n’s writs to make sure she aimed right and at last managed to bite off a piece. The latter reached over to Jennie’s face whose cheeks were fluffed out from having her mouth full.

Her finger brushed the corner of Jennie’s lips who only turned her head more to Y/n as she was used to it. The girl always fed her, always wiped her mouth, always knew what to order, what was needed in which mood. She scooped up the grain of rice and licked it off her thumb before poking Jennie’s cheek who whined.

“You’re still as cute when you eat, God I could squish the literal life out of you until there’s a bloody explosion.”

“That raises many warnings, Y/n,” Jennie mumbled as she swallowed the food at last and watched Y/n take a bite herself while Jennie took a sip of the iced tea that they had drunk a third off. It had made Jennie more than just a bit tipsy now, the drunk slowly incoming, but she didn’t mind as she could tell that Y/n was in the same state.

“It should because if I were to use enough pressure to squeeze you, you’d die.”

Jennie widened her eyes and slowly turned her head to the side to glance at Y/n.

“Why are you saying these things?” She questioned and Y/n fed her another bite.

“I don’t know, they are just these impulsive things that leave my mouth so be careful if they become actual gestures.” Jennie shoved Y/n who was laughing yet again.

The girl always did the most random gestures of affection towards Jennie. Say these words that were somewhere between cute and concerning, but Jennie loved it all. The way she would do more than just buy her flowers, all these small things Jennie had always taken notice of. She’d go as far as to perfectly place Jennie’s slippers beside the bed so she could slip them on right away when she woke up. Now Jennie’s slippers were mostly discarded messily because she always kicked them off when getting into bed with no Y/n to fix them.

“Hold on, or we will get there next week.” Y/n stopped and let go of Jennie’s hand that was clasped with hers, the older one swaying them back and forth as she was walking in a mix of steps, skips, and whatever else she was doing with her feet, dancing her way to the next destination which was slowing them down. Y/n needed to be there on time. 

“You got me drunk.” Jennie sang out, shuffling in place with her feet.

“We’re in the same boat, Miss Kim.” The said girl giggled as she had been slowing them down by doing everything but walking. Y/n pulled Jennie to her by the jacket and she crashed into her.

“Where are you taking me?” Jennie questioned and Y/n turned around.

“Get on my back first.” She ushered and bent her knees.

“Want me to mount you like a stallion?” Y/n snorted at that.

“Who is dirty-minded now?”

“It’s a disease carried by you,” Jennie replied and grabbed hold of Y/n’s shoulders with her hands. She huffed and Y/n stumbled a step before managing to stabilise herself with her arms wrapping around Jennie’s thighs. 

“Now I’m carrying a parasite–ouch.” Y/n winced when she got gently bonked at the top of her head before she looked to her side. Jennie peeked in with a smile on her lips, her arms loosely wrapped around Y/n’s shoulders whose eyes were creasing from her smile. 

“Well? Walk, horsie.” Jennie ordered and gently nudged Y/n with her heel as if she were an actual horse.

She did start walking, making it out of the Gangnam district much quicker despite her legs needing some stabilising to not fall as her coordination was slightly off and she was carrying Jennie. The girl on her back rested her cheek against the side of her head, snuggling closer to Y/n to keep her warm as she still had her jacket on. She had already planned how to end up with the jacket at home because she knew that Y/n would walk her to the entrance of her apartment building at the end of the night. She never let Jennie walk alone at night, she’d always pick her up with the car if Jennie didn’t drive, or she’d walk with her. It didn't matter if Jennie was with friends or if Y/n was busy, she would always get there. 

“Y/n…” Jennie mumbled, looking ahead as they continued to walk, Y/n adjusted the girl on her back as they were close to the destination. She hummed, glancing down at Jennie’s fingers to see the girl tugging on them and she could tell that whatever it was it was something that made Jennie worried or uneasy. “Did you–did you try seeing anyone during these four months?” She asked, dreading the answer because she had no clue how Y/n had spent these past four months. If she had spent two whole months crying, a month trying to leave the house without bags under her eyes or if she skipped all of it.

Y/n chuckled, giving her thigh a squeeze that made Jennie whine at the ticklish sensation. “God no, I’ve been staying with my mum at this big age and working from home. I didn’t leave the house and just stayed with mum even if she continuously scolded me.” She admitted. She hadn’t even thought about another woman aside from Jennie. Y/n couldn’t tell how many hours she spent in bed crying while listening to the 'Disintegration album by The Cure'.

Jennie felt relief wash over her to know that she hadn’t been the only one. It made her feel less of a fool and made her feel better. It was confirmation that they both took it hard because they both loved each other.

“What was she scolding you for?” She curiously asked.

“Not obvious for your little pea brain?” Y/n questioned.

“Never mind then,” Jennie grumbled, rolling her eyes and Y/n stopped walking.

“Get off me now–” Y/n wiggled Jennie off of her, the girl sliding back down onto her feet, her hands letting go of Y/n’s shoulders when she was fully off. It felt cold and if they were both honest neither of them wanted to pull away. “She scolded me for leaving you and said that I would never get the family ring to propose to the next girl I would meet because you were the only right one and worthy of having it.” It made Jennie’s heart drop as Y/n grabbed her hand in hers, intertwining their fingers. It hurt, it hurt them both badly to know that the planned future was in the past.

They had both agreed to wait for marriage and a family until they were at a perfect place in their lives. There was no such thing as a perfect place in their lives when it had been perfect ever since they met. The only thing they had to wait for was to finish studying and have stable enough jobs to start a family. Nothing could have been more perfect and they had waited long enough for a perfect moment to never come now.

Jennie sighed and looked down at her feet as she walked in sync with Y/n. The realisation of actually being 28 now hit her, and if she would ever move on, she’d be too old to start that family of two kids. Unless she would rush into it all. The anxiety started to eat at her as she had never processed what being 28 meant. What did it matter if she was working her dream job if she was earning money that let her live comfortably, if she was in a stable place in her life? When she wasn’t even close to stable in her love life that was dead.

“We’re here.” Jennie looked up from the void under her that was ready to swallow her as it had started to drag her down and had invited her to suffer with endless anticipatory fear. Over the five years she had spent her birthdays with Y/n, she had managed to forget how depressing they were. How anxious they had always made her. Another year had just passed by and there were things Jennie had yet to do. She had forgotten how much she hated birthdays.

Y/n took out her phone and looked at the time it was 11:09 P.M. and Jennie gasped when Y/n tugged on her. “Quick before it’s too late.” Jennie found herself running towards the Banpodaegyo bridge whose neon lights were glowing. People were walking along the bridge, but Jennie and Y/n were running like their lives depended on it.

“I’m gonna fall,” Jennie whined as her legs were barely keeping up with Y/n’s longer ones, to add she was still under the influence and her running felt bumpy and very unsteady. They made it onto the bridge, Jennie tried to slow down, but Y/n did not let her and continued to run. “Y/n!” The girl let out in panic, making Y/n look over her shoulder at Jennie who was doing her best to keep up. The two were too occupied to care about anyone who would glance their way. Her shorter legs were messily trying to run and she was sure she'd run into something if Y/n wasn't guiding her as she felt herself leaning to one side more. 

It soon turned into giggles and Y/n finally stopped, letting Jennie crash into her when she turned around and yanked her into her. Her arms wrapped around the panting girl as they made it to the middle of the bridge. “I could have died.” She tiredly complained, heaving for breath as she was not the best athlete after drinking. Y/n chuckled and grabbed hold of Jennie’s waist, gently pulling her away and looking down at her as she looked up.

“You’re being dramatic–” Y/n said and turned Jennie to face the Han River, the kitten leaned against the railing and looked over the dark river where the moon was being illuminated. She let out a sigh, taking in the scenery while fog left her mouth from the small pants of air. 

The younger one busied herself with digging through the pocket of her loose jeans. She got nothing and put her hand into the left one and finally stumbled upon what she was looking for. “Okay, here–you have to throw the coin into the water and make a wish, it’s about to be 11:11 and it’s your birthday so whatever you wish for has to come true.” Jennie turned her head and looked at Y/n with some confusion before letting her eyes fall onto the coin in Y/n’s palm.

“Y/n, I’m not five–” She was cut off by Y/n who took Jennie’s hand and put the cold coin in her hold.

“You are never too old for wishes, I have never heard of that law.” The younger seriously said and Jennie sighed as she turned back to the river. She looked down at the coin in her palm before she clutched it in her hand while Y/n leaned beside her and waited patiently. “Make sure to close your eyes, it’s 11 now.” She reminded her and watched how Jennie closed her eyes and bit her lower lip. Despite trying to protest at first she seemed to be in deep thought as her brows creased slightly and she was focusing hard.

Jennie threw the coin and opened her eyes as she stood on her toes to follow it with her eyes, but lost sight after a second as it got swallowed by the darkness. “When will it come true?” She asked and looked to her side at Y/n who was also looking over the railing too.

“You have to wait and it will come, could be in the next hour, day, week, or years, but at some point, it will come true.” Y/n reassured her before she pulled away from the railing. This time she took out her earphones, putting one in her ear.

Jennie frowned as she now was invested in the whole ordeal and wanted to see if it really would come true. Would she have to wait years?

“Come on,” Y/n grabbed hold of Jennie’s hand and the girl was somewhat hesitant to leave now that she had made a wish. Scared it wouldn’t come true if she left.

“But it will come true, right?” She asked to make sure while taking the one earphone that was handed to her.

“It’s the best day to make a wish since it’s your birthday, so obviously yes.” Jennie took one last glance before she clung to Y/n’s arm.

‘L$D - A$AP Rocky’

The two walked in silence through the rest of the bridge, rather admiring the moment in silence than filling it with chatter while listening to the music. The peace still managed to create memories as Jennie felt nostalgic and she wasn’t sure if it was because she was walking with Y/n again or not. Her side leaned into Y/n who put her arm around her shoulders as they walked instead. By the time they made it to the end of the bridge, the next song started playing and Jennie was so familiar with them that it confused her.

‘As Long as You Follow - Fleetwood Mac’

“You won’t mind if I take you to one more place?” Y/n questioned and Jennie looked up at her with docile eyes. She blinked them as they had glossed over and there was a lump in her throat for whatever reason. God, she did not want it to end. Jennie wanted this night to last forever. If she could somehow make it last forever she would do just that. Everything to not have Y/n leave her by the end of the night. Jennie shook her head as Y/n could take her to the edge of the world and she wouldn’t mind, she could drag her across all continents and she would be content.

The song was warming Jennie's soul, the lump pushing itself in her throat and she couldn't get over it. She almost wanted to curse Y/n out for playing Fleetwood Mac as they always listened to the band together. Y/n especially loved them. It was as if Y/n wanted to make her cry by playing this song and Jennie was forcing the tears back despite a few strays falling only to what she thought was her knowledge, forgetting that Y/n noticed everything about her. Her lips quivered and her heart thudded heavily. 

Y/n hauled a cab and opened the door for Jennie who was citing all the songs.

‘Wot’s…Uh the Deal - Pink Floyd’

All of them weren’t necessarily songs Jennie listened to, but what Y/n listened to as she had a wide range of music tastes. She could still remember how excited Y/n would get to play them to Jennie on the guitar, acoustic or electric, it didn’t matter. She would sit down with Jennie and teach her how to play certain songs and help the girl get better at the string instrument. Sit right behind her and teach her each fret, tab, and chord that had to be played. She would always be so patient. 

‘10:37 - Beach House’

Her eyes gazed through the window as she held onto Y/n’s hand who had her arm around her shoulders. The night slowly passed, people still roamed the streets, and lights turned red before turning green, Jennie only watched how the time passed while the car moved through the streets of Seoul.

‘Five String Serenade - Mazzy Star’

If she couldn’t make this night last forever, she would like time the time to pass by slowly. To make it last as long as possible, or for the road to never end and sit in Y/n’s arms her whole life. That way all her worries about her uncertain future would disappear. She would disappear in these songs while loving whatever simple things came to her as long as they were from Y/n. 

‘What kind of love - Childish Gambino’

“Where are we going?” Jennie asked at last as she hadn’t heard where Y/n was taking them. She just followed. Y/n gave her a cheeky smile as she looked down at Jennie. Her hand untangled itself from Jennie’s two and she used it to brush away some of the hair that was falling in her face before letting her hand fall back down as it was resting around Jennie. The girl clung back onto it, playing with Y/n’s fingers. “You will see in a second ‘cause we’re almost there.” Jennie pouted at that and rested her head on Y/n’s shoulder.

‘Teenager - Deftones’

She started to feel like she had been thrown in a time capsule as the view of the Seoul tower was much more clear now. Jennie moved from Y/n’s hold and looked closer at where exactly they were heading. Her sight was somewhat blurry from the alcohol that she had consumed, but she knew that she wasn’t drunk enough to be this delusional.

‘Bel Air - Lana Del Rey’

“Why are we stopping by the cable cars?” She questioned and looked back at Y/n who paid the man who had driven them from the bridge to the cable cars that went up to the tower. Jennie wouldn’t be questioning it all too much if it hadn’t been for the fact that it was closed.

“I rather take a cable car than walk a dark trail at night, Jen,” Y/n said with a chuckle and opened the door before getting out. She held it open and Jennie got out with the girl’s help, bidding one last goodbye to the driver before closing the door to the car. With that she led the way, still dragging a confused Jennie with her.

“It’s closed though.” She deadpanned. It closed at 11 P.M. and it was 11:45 P.M. and Jennie’s birthday was almost over. She was starting to feel like Cinderella and soon enough she’d leave and leave everything behind her. Maybe this would be her last time with Y/n. It didn’t add up in her head and she didn’t want it. Although she felt like she wasn’t the one to make this decision, she was too scared to do it. What if she would get rejected?

“I helped a client invest and win a lot of money. He’s connected to the news Channel who owns it and since he was going to give me a bonus I asked if he could instead fix this for me.” Y/n explained and the girl frowned.

‘When the Sun Hits - Slowdive’

“Okay, and how did you time it all so well that it happened to be now that you ran into me?” Jennie questioned with some suspicion. Y/n chuckled, the kitten looking at her to see the dimples showing and she squeezed her smaller hand.

“Hey, I told you that I hoped I would run into you earlier and so with that hope, I picked this date and if I hadn’t run into you, I would have gone with one of my friends or alone.” Y/n shrugged it off as she knew that Jennie would realise soon enough as the strongest effects of the alcohol had slowly started to subside. They were approached by a guard and Y/n confirmed her identity as Jennie was digging in her blurry brain for what it exactly was.

It wasn’t long until they had made it up the stairs and the cable car was open and waiting. Y/n let Jennie get on first before getting on after the door closed. It was in queue when the next song started playing and Y/n laughed.

‘How You Remind Me - Nickelback’

“It doesn’t count if you aren’t screaming the lyrics Jennie—And this is how you remind me.”

“Y/n…”Jennie shied away like she always did.

“Come on, it’s just us—” Jennie looked unconvinced for a second as they sat in the cable car that was riding up over the dark forest, over the empty road. She giggled as Y/n pulled out the invincible guitar as the pre-chorus started. It was somewhat between childish, but also freeing as Y/n turned up the volume. “Sing or you are flying out.” Y/n threatened.

There truly never were any reasons to hold back when she was with Y/n and they always screamed songs until they lost their voices.

“It’s not like you to say sorry!”

Maybe it was because she was still under the influence, but it could be Y/n’s influence or the alcohol. She found herself singing the whole song with Y/n, knowing every word of it while sharing the invincible microphone with Y/n. The second Y/n laid her eyes on Jennie the girl had that big gummy smile that she adored so much. It was a smile she always wanted to be the cause of and she knew that it wouldn’t be possible if they were away. Unless Jennie still smiled this big whenever she looked back at the memories they had made together.

It was that feeling of being back in college, of being back together with Y/n. Screaming songs, wandering nights, getting lost in what love was for them. It was overwhelmingly good and it was sentimental whenever she looked back at those times. They had never been lost as she knew that Y/n let her live it all over and over again, but that was when they were together. Love was something only Y/n could make her feel on this type of level. The one that healed all the time, surely forgetting all the suffering she had done the past four months. 

“All we need to do now is start a band together,” she found herself giggling at Y/n’s words, burying her face in her shoulder as they took out the earphones. She wrapped her arm around Jennie, rubbing her back and unable to even try to let the smile fall. Compared to the Jennie she first cornered in the bathroom, it was like seeing the Jennie she left, being able to bring her right back to life. The Jennie she never should have left even if they both agreed that it would be better. At times there is no such thing as the right thing to do, but possibly people could forgive the mistake when all she had in mind was the best for the girl.

Jennie heaved a sigh and suddenly, as if lightning struck her and woke her up, she realised what it was. Her lips parted, but before she could say anything they had reached the top and their fingers intertwined as they walked out. With a man from staff, they were led to the tower and then to the elevator.

Y/n looked down at Jennie, she kind of figured that the woman had figured it out by now. She looked almost devastated as her gaze was on the floor.

She felt like crying, she wanted to hate Y/n for doing something like this to her, but she couldn’t. This was probably the best gift she could have received, but the biggest problem was that she didn’t have Y/n. They walked out of the elevator, it was silent with just the two of them and Jennie let go of Y/n’s hand as she walked over to the windows. The whole thing was overwhelming as she was keeping her tears at bay and bit her lower lip, taking in a shaky breath as she looked over the view of Seoul at night in the tower that was closed to everyone but them…again.

Y/n put her hands in her pockets to warm them and stood just a step behind Jennie, being able to catch the woman’s reflection in the window. She had realised and Y/n had been expecting Jennie to get emotional because she was always a soft and emotional kitten.

“Those were all the songs we listened to that night in the exact order.” Jennie pointed out as she realised why the songs brought her so much nostalgia and why the order of them rang so many bells in her head. She wouldn’t have noticed otherwise, but the order was just right and now they had screamed the lyrics in that cable car once again while reaching the top. It all came rushing to Jennie.

“I know,” the taller girl simply replied, but she had hoped the whole night that Jennie would realise.

Now it made sense why they walked past so many convenience stores before they at last walked into that specific one.

“But you said that you put on shuffle with over 5k songs in your liked ones,” Jennie mumbled and lifted her head to catch Y/n’s reflection. The view was mesmerising, but what Y/n had done, what she had given her as a birthday present was much more meaningful and mesmerising than the view. It made Jennie turn around to look at her, a pout resting on her lips as her cheeks were stained with a few tear streaks.

“I made sure to put them all in a playlist until we stopped listening, which was when we left the cable car back in 2018, January 16th when we first met and I stole you from a club.”

Jennie jutted out her lower lip as Y/n had always been thoughtful, had always done small gestures that meant the world to her, and had been loving and caring. She hated that she had to be all those things when they weren’t together. It wasn’t fair. “Why?” Her voice cracked and her nose pricked before the tears won and spilled over her eyes.

Y/n gave her a soft and gentle smile, taking her hands out of her pockets. Her hands came up to Jennie’s face as she cupped her cheeks which were cold and soft in her hold, wet with tears that were warm on her cold skin that was tinted a light pink like her nose. She leaned into her hold with a sniffle, the ice on her skin melting at how good it felt to be in the warmth that was home.

“I kind of figured out that night that I would marry you and you seemed to be in bliss because of the night—so I thought that if I were to mess up big along the way I could replay the night for you and make it good again by doing exactly what I did the first time we met and then got together shortly after.” The girl admitted. She had regretted every moment away from Jennie because what she thought was right truly wasn’t. Her last hope was to show Jennie what they were together and hope that even if she suggested it, Jennie would want her right back. It was a stupid mistake, but everyone made them. Y/n just hoped that it wasn’t too late to fix what was broken.

She at least didn't want Jennie to hate her, hoping all she could leave were good memories after her. 

Nothing was broken though. They were only broken away from each other, but it was like kintsugi the second they were right by each other again.

“I regret even suggesting it but I was thinking of you—” Jennie didn’t want to hear it, she didn’t blame Y/n. She had seen it from Y/n’s point of view and she knew how she always put Jennie first.

“I know that you were. I think we needed to be away from each other to truly realise how much we need one another to never take the other for granted or do anything to lose each other. To remember how much good we brought each other.” Jennie mumbled and Y/n huffed in relief through her nose as Jennie had always been understanding of her thinking and how she didn’t mean to make things more complicated than needed. It was enough for Jennie to forget the bad and only remember how much good they had brought, how much that had changed their lives in only good ways and she would forever cherish that.

She let go of Jennie and pulled her in for a hug, the shorter girl wrapped her arms around Y/n’s waist. She shed her last tears into her shoulder while Y/n soothed her, kissing the side of her head, and rubbing her back while holding her firmly. Jennie couldn’t tell what she was crying over anymore, but the relief made it impossible not to cry. She was still trying to comprehend how they after six years did everything they did the first time they met on Jennie’s birthday.

How Y/n somehow convinced Jennie to leave the club with her (she forgot safety the second she saw the girl).

She had dragged Jennie to that exact convenience store where they ate the same things, and Y/n mixed mango iced tea with tequila that they shared.

When they left and got to the bridge where Jennie made the wish and threw a coin in. A wish that came true because her drunk self wished for Y/n to ask her out despite meeting just an hour prior. 

How they listened to music after (those exact tracks) and took a cab.

The only difference was that Y/n had managed to lie their way into letting them take the cable car and be in the tower for just a few minutes.

After that, Y/n walked Jennie to her college dorm and got her number before they parted ways.

They had taken a cab back to the place they used to share where Jennie stayed alone now. Y/n took the elevator up with Jennie who was now opening the door and as she did– “My baby boy.” Y/n cooed as Kuma ran out barking and jumping at her legs as she hadn’t seen him in four whole months. She picked him up, moving her face away as he tried to lick at her.

“I feel bad for even saying this, but he stayed every day whining by the door and waiting for you,” Jennie admitted as she stood in the door frame, removing her sneakers and pushing them aside. She looked at Y/n who was crouched on the floor with the dog going crazy in her arms. The little puppy they had gotten together because they had still been young and wanted some kind of family together. 

“I am so sorry, Kuma.” She apologised, feeling almost just as bad for leaving him as she did with Jennie.

Jennie bit her lower lip, watching the two as Y/n put him down, but he started to run around her and barked some more. Kuma wasn’t letting Y/n go, just like Jennie didn’t want to let go. “You could come in, Y/n…” She suggested and Y/n looked from the floor, a glint in her eyes as they trailed from Jennie’s legs, over her whole body before they got to her eyes.

“Nightcap?”

“Yes, just get inside.” Y/n chuckled and picked up the dog before stepping inside the familiar apartment. It was a home, it used to be at least, but what made it a home was Jennie. She slid off her shoes as Jennie walked further inside. Her feet led her to the living room that still looked the same and the other woman wasn’t there yet as she trailed to another part of the apartment. She slumped down onto the couch and put Kuma in her lap.

Her eyes landed on the marble coffee table and she leaned closer while petting the dog. She chuckled at the thought that came to her mind. “Jennie?” She called for the woman, and the sound of her light footsteps came from behind as she left the kitchen. She hummed and Y/n turned to her, taking the whiskey on the rocks that Jennie handed her. “Did you manifest this?” She questioned and looked back down at the Polaroid photo of her right by the candles.

Jennie groaned at that as she saw how it looked. “No! I did not. I like candles and it just happened that I left it there before leaving the apartment.” She explained in her defence. The photo had been behind her phone case for all those months until she left today with the plan to hook up with someone. God forbid one of her friends would see her still carrying that picture after she purposely made Y/n look like she was a jerk behind closed doors—she wasn’t. Now it was lying by the candles and looked like she had been sitting and manifesting all of this.

“So, I’m the only one?” Y/n questioned as she took out her phone and placed it upside down on the coffee table. A polaroid of Jennie in the case and she took a sip of the cold hard liquor while glancing at Jennie who walked around to sit on the couch. The jacket she got to borrow was discarded as she left it in the kitchen just to make sure that Y/n would forget it.

She rolled her eyes and pulled her knees up to her chest before taking a sip of the golden brown liquid that hit her taste buds. It made her somewhat wince as she was always between liking and hating whiskey depending on the brand. “First of all, I took it out today, second, I'm not obliged to carry it around,” Y/n gave her a look as she knew that Jennie was trying to get on her nerves. She loved playing those little games where Y/n would piss her off and she’d do it back. Part of why she told her friends things that weren’t true.

Jennie loved being petty like that and was getting back at Y/n right now.

“So, you’re not going to put it back?” She questioned, taking sips from the crystal whiskey glass, the ice clanked around in their glasses while they looked at each other.

“Nope, it would get in the way, wouldn’t it?” Y/n helped Kuma down on the floor before she reached back for her phone. Jennie watched the girl with intensity and felt something boil in her when she saw Y/n open her case. “What’re you doing?” She seriously asked. Through the months just the thoughts of Y/n seeing someone else made Jennie kick and scream in emotions that were green and red. She was ready to pay people to stay away from her and hire people to pull every person Y/n would try to be with apart. 

“Your picture will get in the way.” She shrugged, quickly taking yet another sip of the whiskey and putting the glass down. It let her use both her hands and Jennie found herself placing her glass down too. It was boiling inside Jennie and she wanted to strangle Y/n for even uttering those words.

“No, you don’t get to do that.” Her tone went into that angry one that Y/n knew. Not angry even, emotions she only felt when it came to Y/n who she couldn’t stand thinking about being with anyone but her. She would be jealous, she’d die in jealousy, she lost it when she saw Y/n being approached by women who had clear intentions of flirting–she knew that Y/n at times gave in to the flirting just to see Jennie jealous and angry.

“I think I do if I want to find someone to hook up with–” Jennie clenched her jaw and moved onto her knees as she faced Y/n. She tried to reach for her phone but the girl held it away from her, making Jennie crawl to get closer and try to reach for it. “Weren’t those your intentions tonight when you went out and took out my picture? Oh, I clearly remember what Lisa said in that bathroom.”

“Stop that.” Jennie snapped as Y/n was reaching to remove the polaroid. It made Jennie grab hold of her arm with both hands and tackle it down onto the couch.

“You little bitch.” Y/n grumbled as Jennie snatched the phone out of her hold, lying across her lap. She tried to reach for it with her right hand since Jennie was lying with her upper body on her left one. The kitten bit Y/n’s hand when she tried to take it, busy adjusting the picture so it would be back in place. She hissed and pulled away to see a bite mark on her skin right under the knuckle of her thumb.

“Hey!” Y/n exclaimed.

“Hey.” Jennie mocked and tried to open Y/n’s phone only for her face ID to not work. She gasped as her face ID had been removed, she tried the pin, but it wasn’t working either.

“Jennie.”

“Jennie.”

“Give me my phone before you block it.”

“Give me my phone before you block it. Who do you have on here that you changed your PIN and removed my face ID?” Jennie continued to push Y/n’s buttons who had been pushing hers. That brattiness came right out as she was ready to give her attitude because she couldn’t phantom that Y/n had done these things. Furiously, she continued to guess the pin with all the important dates and numbers Y/n liked.

“I told you something.” Y/n tried to reach for it again while trying to wiggle out her other hand that Jennie had in a death grip. It only got smacked away.

“I told you something. How ‘bout you do something about it?” Jennie pushed and looked over her shoulder with a frown to ask about the pincode. “What’s–Ahh, Y/n.” She whined when the palm collided against her ass making her squirm at the pain. Jennie had almost forgotten about how horny she had been until that pain shot to her clit instead. She felt somewhat embarrassed and her head fell as she kicked her feet with another whine. It was so unexpected that she had no clue how to react or feel. 

“Stop being a pain in the ass.”

It went silent and Y/n waited for what Jennie would say or do. That smack just came naturally and she hadn’t controlled it. Whether Jennie was pissed or not, that spanking wasn’t something she could take responsibility for when Jennie worked her nerves so well.

“Stop being a pain in the ass.” She mocked once again, imitating Y/n who groaned. The little giggle that came from Jennie who lifted her head didn’t go unnoticed.

“Are you laughing?”

“Are you laughing?” Jennie knew exactly how much Y/n hated it when she would imitate her without an end. The thoughts made her lift her ass slightly, wriggling in Y/n’s lap as she pushed it out. There was a tension between her legs and she wanted it gone.

“You’re so annoying.”

“You’re so annoying. Cry about it, Y/n.” She hissed at the girl. It was soon followed by something that was between a groan and a moan as Y/n spanked her ass once more which made Jennie raise her hips and writhe into the couch cushion. That sensation made her cunt throb and slowly start leaking as she clenched her thighs for some relief. It was hard to control as her ass purposely tried to invite Y/n for more as it was turning her on.

“Tell me what it is, Jennie. Why do you need this?” Y/n questioned and looked at Jennie who was still clutching the phone. She huffed and lifted her head, looking over her shoulder and at Y/n. A little smile on her lips, one that was mischievous.

“I did some things you wouldn’t be happy about–been a very bad girl.”

Y/n gripped at the underside of her thigh just under her ass, squeezing it and making Jennie squirm at how ticklish it was on her sensitive thighs.

“You have?” Jennie bit her lower lip and nodded her head.

“What did you do?”

Jennie purposely lifted her hips and arched her back, being on her knees with her hands stretched out in front of her, chest pressing into the couch. She let go of the phone, Y/n’s eyes on the ass that was in the air and she moved her hand up to it. The kitten jutted her lower lip out in feigned despair. “I’ve been out the whole night looking for someone who would fuck my needy little pussy because the toys haven’t been able to satisfy me…” She looked even sadder now as if she's been having the hardest time of her life because of these things and what she said after seemed to be even more devastating for her. “There hasn’t been any cum in me for so long, no one to fill me, breed me, no cum for me to clean up–I’ve been feeling so useless and empty.” She mumbled, with tears brimming in her eyes.

“So, it’s not my fault for looking for someone to do it,” Jennie added in her defence. The heat shot right to her clit again, her ass burned in the best way possible as she could only moan when Y/n spanked her again.

“Y/n, it’s not fair!” She cried out despite enjoying it. The latter was growing hard, thinking about Jennie’s snug and pink pussy that she’s missed being inside of. The one she missed abusing, filling with cum, if not her other holes. Jennie loved it all, she especially loved cleaning up the cum that leaked out of her after.

“How is it not fair? I’m not the one who's been walking around like I’m in heat and looking for strangers to fuck me.” Her hand ran over Jennie’s inner thighs before she made it to the girl’s pussy which was covered by the black cargo pants. It was enough to make Jennie whine and try to rub her throbbing cunt against the hand that cupped her heat. Y/n’s other hand stroked along Jennie’s bare spine which was warm and arched to show off her ridges.

“It’s my birthday.” Jennie slyly pointed out.

“I’m supposed to give in because of that? Give you a free pass?” Y/n asked, gently rubbing Jennie’s clothed cunt. The girl desperately tried to push her hips more into the hand that removed pressure every time she tried. It was keeping her on the edge as she pathetically continued to try and hump at Y/n's hand.

“Yes. Please creampie my pink and tight little pussy and make me a mommy tonight.” The erection was now straining against Y/n’s jeans as the offer was one she did not want to pass on despite it giving Jennie a free pass. Her brain cells reasoned with each other, agreeing on it being Jennie’s birthday even if it was past 12, but it didn’t count until they went to sleep and woke up. Her eyes gazed into Y/n’s, practically daring her to do it.

“Get up,” never in her life had Y/n seen Jennie get up so fast. The girl always liked to take her time simply because she wanted to or because she wanted to annoy Y/n. The giggly and horny Jennie ran towards the bedroom with Y/n taking long strides right after her.

The bedroom was also the same with Jennie on the bed unzipping her pants. “Hey, hey, slow down,” Y/n complained and the feline pouted when her hands were pushed away from the fly of her cargo pants.

“I’m so horny though.”

“I can tell that much,” Y/n commented with her hands pulling Jennie up to sit. Her arms wrapped around Y/n’s shoulders and she pulled her down, hands gripped at her waist and she got her breath taken away. Jennie melted and healed when she finally had Y/n’s lips against hers again. She didn’t want to wait when she tilted her head and opened her mouth for the tongue to push against her. It tasted of whiskey, it was just as intoxicating and was washing over her body, injecting itself deep within her veins.

One person could only satisfy the other.

Jennie couldn’t even satisfy herself when she was horny. Y/n knew just how to eat her out, stuff her with cock, fuck her, make her orgasm and beg for more.

She swallowed Y/n’s tongue, sucking on it and the girl groaned when Jennie’s hand came down from her shoulder and rubbed at her cock through the pants. It was making Jennie’s clit throb painfully, just feeling Y/n’s cock was making her try to clench her thighs that Y/n stood between. Both her hands went to the bulge, rubbing at the outline while undoing the zipper with her other while Y/n threaded her fingers through Jennie’s hair.

“Please, please–” Y/n cut Jennie off who pulled away and was about to plead for her to start fucking her.

“I will, but you have to show off for me first.” She pried Jennie’s hands away from the hem of her jeans and pulled her up onto her feet. “I know it’s your birthday, but you said yourself that you were a bad girl, so this is the least you can do.” Y/n ushered and smiled at Jennie as the girl squinted her eyes.

The girl was determined to show Y/n exactly what she walked out from. Her eyes were laced with seductiveness even if the girl was stalling her orgasm. The girl reached into the pocket of her pants and took out her phone, Y/n smiled bigger and leaned back against her palms as the smart home speakers started to play Champagne by The Weeknd . Jennie turned around and tossed her phone onto the dresser.

Her eyes watched Jennie’s every move and her fingers grabbed hold of the small piece that was tied at her side to hold the shirt against her body. She pulled it, slowly, Y/n’s eyes stuck on the slim back and just watching her was enough to make Y/n’s chest heave even more. Jennie undid it, her hands running over her body, tugging up the open-back shirt with her before letting go as it fell back down. Y/n waited in anticipation, almost regretting it as she couldn’t wait for Jennie to remove the shirt and turn so she could see her chest.

Her body gently moved to the music, her fingers ran over her arm and over to the one strap before she gently tugged it down. The other hand ran under her shirt towards the other strap. She made sure to let out a light hum to let Y/n know that she ran over her breast before she reached the strap. Jennie slid them down her shoulders, the shirt fell with a soft thud to the floor.

She had yet to turn around though.

Instead, she finished undoing her pants and proceeded to bend over with her fingers hooked around the hem. It couldn’t have gone slower, the way she slowly started to pull them down her ass, revealing more and more of the flesh and lacy material of her black cheeky underwear. They went up her ass as she got the pants under her cheeks. Her ass was plump and pushed right out with her puffy pussy, the woman’s back arched and her eyes coming to peek over her shoulder. Her feline eyes were clouded by lust and she looked back in front of her as Y/n looked hypnotised.

She pulled them further down, revealing her creamy thighs inch by inch while making sure to show off how agile she was by slowly bending herself in half. It wasn’t until they were resting by her calves that Jennie started to get down on her knees to the music. The girl was holding back from dragging Jennie to bed now. She got on her knees, her back straight and showing off her perfect posture as she slid into a side-sitting position with her legs on one side (left), the pants fully discarded now. Her hand came over behind her and dragged her hair to one side of her shoulder, looking to the side while doing so. The movements were soft.

She moved her legs further, taking them in front of her and spreading them open. Her palms planted behind her and slowly slid against the rug, reclining herself back. It was hypnotising, her chest at last coming into view, more and more until she was lying on her back. Jennie loved showing off her body, especially to Y/n and no one else. Her body was just for Y/n and whether it was her birthday or not, a striptease was just as satisfying to her as it was to Y/n. (She was also aware that she had to pay for what she did when trying to look for someone else.)

She couldn’t begin to explain how much her clit started to throb when she caught the look on Y/n’s face. The wetness was gushing as she loved being admired by Y/n. It was almost enough to get off for Jennie. Her hand came between her legs, her hips moved in a fluid wave like motion when she whined them into the fingers that brushed over the slick material, fingers threading into the rug as her eyes closed. She continued to run her hand up her body, fingers feather-likely running over her skin which made her chest heave and body move. A soft moan slipped past her lips when she brushed over her nipple until she reached her throat.

Jennie was quick and agile in the way she smoothly turned from her back and onto her stomach. Her eyes were almost predatory the way she looked up at Y/n while slowly pushing herself up, ass coming up first with hands stretched out in front of her until she pushed herself forward and was standing on all fours.

Slowly she crawled the small distance like a cat over to Y/n, her hips moving, her back still arched. Jennie reached the girl and got on her knees while looking at her through her lashes, her hands grabbed hold of Y/n’s knees, pulling her legs apart to get between them. In one smooth motion, like waves, she slid up, getting on her feet and coming face to face with Y/n, her hands holding onto Y/n’s shoulders.

“Am I excused for being bad?” Jennie questioned, her chest heaving, as if she ran a marathon, but the arousal was just getting overwhelming. She could feel how sticky it was between her legs, everything spilling and smearing on her inner thighs. The underwear piece was ruined. Y/n licked her lips and grabbed her hips, looking down at Jennie’s chest, her nipples perky, her breasts plump.

“More than excused—you deserve to not only get your pussy stuffed but also eaten.” There was that vocal fry in Y/n’s voice that Jennie knew so well. It meant that she would get her pussy messily devoured. She squealed when Y/n got up and put Jennie on the bed, she pushed her back and leaned down. Fingers threaded into her hair when she attached her lips to Jennie’s chest first.

It was eliciting small whines and gasps, the tongue swirling her nipple, teeth gently tugging, the other being roughly groped the way she liked it. Y/n wrapped her mouth around as much soft flesh as possible and sucked before licking. Jennie’s hips were pathetically bucking at the heat that was bubbling in her stomach because of it. “Y/n!” She cried out at the way her nipple was pinched between Y/n’s fingers, the girl tugged on the bud after and started to kiss down to Jennie’s cleavage.

“Please, I promise, I taste so good,” Jennie begged as Y/n was kissing down her stomach. The kitten squirmed when her nipple got flicked, the bud more swollen and red now as Y/n had abused the sensitive nub that was stiff.

“Have you been cleaning up your messes lately?” Y/n asked with a smirk, glancing up at Jennie who had her head thrown back with her back arching, hips desperately pushing into Y/n. She whined, not wanting to answer the embarrassing question as she had been feral trying to fuck herself right only to make a mess but not orgasm hard enough. This time she cried, slightly kicking her feet when Y/n twisted the same nipple again.

“Answer, Jen.”

“I lick my fingers clean because they get so messy.” She admitted in a whine, her cheeks even more flushed as it was now just flowing out of her. Jennie always got so wet, and someone had to clean it after. Y/n was well aware of how Jennie would always leak with juices. The videos she’d send of playing with her pink pussy when Y/n wasn’t there to eat her out, making sure to show how she would lick up the sticky mess of her fingers after getting as much as possible on them. She loved sucking Y/n’s cock, especially to have cum shoot into her mouth that she’d swallow.

“You want me to taste you?” Y/n continued to tease as she was on her knees and Jennie pushed herself up. A look of desperation on her face, tears welling in her eyes as it was hurting now. “Yes.” She watched Y/n who hooked her fingers around her underwear and she started to tug them down. They clung to her wet cunt, pulling a sticky mess with them as Y/n peeled them off and dropped the ruined material on the floor.

“All for you.” Jennie surely invited the girl who was on her knees in front of her by spreading her legs, her hand coming in between her legs. She bit her lower lip as Y/n watched her use her fingers to spread her glistening and puffy folds. Her hole was clenching in greediness as her arousal was slowly leaking out of it, running down her ass and onto the sheets. She ran them over to her clit, showing the swollen bud by pulling back the hood. Y/n smiled and gently removed Jennie’s fingers as she had shown off her cunt enough.

The girl waiting, finally in the only suitable outfit on a day like this, in her birthday suit.

“I will make sure to take it all.” Y/n reassured her and Jennie’s hand gripped onto her hair while Y/n moved Jennie’s leg to wrap it around her shoulder. The girl groaned as Jennie forcefully pulled on her hair and shoved her face fully into her cunt. She gasped, squirming and grinding her hips into Y/n’s face when she licked right up along her slit, tongue spreading her lips. The taste washed over Y/n’s tongue, it was addicting and she moved back down, her tongue flat against the heat as she licked up from the sopping hole, bringing it all up to her clit.

Jennie’s lips stayed apart, breaths desperate and the sounds falling from between them as she couldn’t control it neither could she control the squirming into Y/n’s face. “Fuck, Y/n–more, I want more,” she whined, her eyes falling closed and her back hit the mattress as she couldn’t hold herself up.

Y/n sucked onto her outer lips, sucking them in and teasing with her tongue, dipping down and nudging the grasping hole with her tongue, swirling it which made Jennie gasp and writhe for more. However, she would feel bad if she teased Jennie for too long as the girl had been all ready since they entered the bedroom. Her hand gripped Jennie’s hip to ground them and control their whining as they weren’t controlled by the nymphomaniac that Jennie was.

“Oh God, I’ve missed you so much, the way you fuck me.” Jennie cried out when lips wrapped around her clit, the tongue firmly flicking at it at a perfect angle. Y/n ran her other hand over to Jennie’s hole, her one finger teasing around the hole while she continued to flick at her clit. Her tongue moved quickly, harshly flicking back and forth as it always made Jennie’s thighs quiver, trying to close around her head and leave the girl unsure of what to grip onto or how to act.

Her juices were smearing over her chin, running down and creating a mess and Y/n couldn’t help but dip down for more. The pleasure didn’t stop for Jennie who gyrated her hips into Y/n’s nose while the girl lapped at her hole, gathering the stickiness on her tongue before bringing it back up. She swirled around her clit before she wrapped her lips around it and suckled hard enough for Jennie to moan louder and arch her back off of the mattress. The birthday girl had always been vocal and sensitive to all touch when it came to Y/n. She was quite sure it was because of how many chemicals her body released around her, the oxytocin overflowing.

With ease, Y/n pushed two fingers into Jennie who sucked them in right away. Her walls were warm and throbbing, continuously clenching around the two slender fingers that started to push into her. “So close, I want it,” Jennie mumbled, a few coherent words coming from her now and then as she was lost in the firm and slick muscle that worked her swollen and pulsating clit while fingers pressed against her g-spot. She could feel it coming, the way her stomach started to drop and heat up.

“How bad do you want it?” Y/n gruffly questioned by pulling away for a split second before going right back.

“So bad, I will cry if I don’t get it–play with my pussy until it hurts. All yours.” The words flew out of her blabbering mouth, gasping and falling out of breath. She had been longing for more than Y/n and her love, but this type of love too.

“I love it, you fuck me so good with your tongue. Oh God–” Her chest heaved, her fingers tangling themselves in Y/n’s hair who groaned at the pain while eating at Jennie’s cunt. The mess ran down her chin, down Jennie’s ass, staining the sheets. The sounds were lewd, Jennie moaning, gasping, and whining, and the way Y/n was eating her pussy was making the wet sounds bounce off the walls in the room from the licking and sucking. The younger let out her moans and groans at how much she enjoyed having Jennie squirm while eating her out.

Her thighs shook while clenching around Y/n, her voice strained, her body spasming as she arched off the bed with her hips bucking into Y/n. Jennie lost control of her voice, cries flying out as everything disappeared, her ears ringing and her vision dying out. Her hand flew to her breast, grabbing hold of it as she had no clue where else to grasp. Her walls clasped around Y/n’s fingers, thudding around them as the orgasm crashed through her. It went on for a good few seconds as Y/n didn’t stop and continued to flick at her bud.

It wasn’t until Jennie was panting for breath and instead of pulling her into her pussy she was pulling her away that Y/n stopped. She slowed down, gently cleaning up the mess that Jennie’s cunt was, the girl wriggling under her from the kittenish licks lapping up the juices. Her body relaxed at last, slumping into the mattress and closing her eyes, her pussy palpitating from aftershocks.

“No…” She whined, convulsing and closing her legs with her hands flying between them as Y/n was no longer between them. A heat ran over her at the painful slap that landed against her swollen pussy, the sound wet and harsh.

“Don’t you want my cock too?” Y/n questioned and the girl opened her eyes, looking at Y/n who was using her black sweatshirt to wipe at her chin and mouth. It made her pussy clench at how it was missing Y/n.

“I do.” She dragged out and pulled herself up, her hands grasping at Y/n’s sweatshirt and pulling it up. The latter helped her by fully pulling it over her head and discarding it to the floor with kittenish hands pawing at her slim stomach before they dropped to her pants. Although Jennie didn’t pull them down, she instead moved onto her knees. “Hurry up, my pussy is waiting for your cum, baby.” She purred out while turning around and getting on all fours, showing off her ass and dripping pussy while looking over her shoulder at Y/n. Her ass pushed out for Y/n as she arched her back to further the invite.

“You’re so bad.” Y/n groaned and fully undid her pants, letting them pool around her ankles before she kicked them to the side with her boxers. Jennie bit her lower lip, eyeing the thick and long member, the tip bulbous and red, leaking with precum, the long vein dragged on the underside and Y/n’s slim and veiny hand came over to it. She stroked herself, her other hand caressing the plump outline of Jennie’s ass who only pushed more into her.

“Such a bad girl after not getting my attitude fucked out of me…I get so mean when I don’t have your cum stuffing my pussy.” Jennie agreed, drawing her words out while lowering herself until her chest pressed against the mattress.

“I need–” Jennie stopped Y/n who was about to get to the bedside drawer where she knew condoms were. They always hit it raw, but she wasn’t sure if Jennie had continued with her birth control after four months of being alone.

“No condom,” it wasn’t an ask, but more so a demand. Y/n didn’t mind condoms while Jennie hated them.

“You’re on birth control,” Y/n concluded and went right back to place, guiding her tip between Jennie’s folds who let her head drop at the feeling that sent shivers through her spine.

She bit her lower lip, forcing the smile to not get too big as she couldn’t wait longer as she confirmed Y/n’s conclusion. “Yes.” A sigh followed when the stretch came, Y/n’s tip pushing inside her, spreading her open, splitting her folds and disappearing into her sopping and snug heat. It was squeezing her cock as a moan slipped from her mouth. The warmth of Jennie was so familiar, it was leaving her cock to throb the further she slipped inside the confines of her pink cunt.

The brunette whined, her insides twisting at how good it felt, the cock too big for her smaller body as it was always a tight fit and a big stretch for her to take the girl behind her. Y/n stopped as her pelvis met Jennie’s ass, filling her to the hilt with her hands gripping Jennie’s hips. Her lips parted at the feeling as she stalled any movement and got lost for a second in just the feeling of having Jennie around her.

However, Jennie wasn’t nearly as patient. “Are you going to fuck me or act like a virgin who wet their dick for the first time?” It brought Y/n right out of her drowning thoughts at the rude tone of Jennie who sounded annoyed.

“What?” She breathed out.

“Fuck me or I will find someone else to do it.” Jennie loved digging her own grave. At least she got buried with her back being blown.

“Who else will fuck you this good?” Y/n didn’t wait for an answer as she pulled out almost fully before Jennie was sent flying forward when she slammed her hips back against hers. It drew gasps and moans from Jennie as Y/n proceeded with the deep and hard thrusts. The thick cock dragged along her tight walls, and the wet and squelching noises got louder as Jennie's pussy was a mess. Y/n’s pelvis slapped against Jennie’s ass and started to fill in with moans, groans, whimpers, and gasps. All occupying the room.

Jennie bunched up the sheets in her fists, her face buried in them. She could feel the curved tip abusing her g-spot as it continuously dragged along the soft and spongy spot in her. The cock was hitting deep in her, filling her and hitting the right spots that she wasn’t even able to hit when fucking herself with all kinds of toys.

Her moans were erotic, they fueled Y/n on who was going carnal as Jennie’s pussy, body, voice, and everything else always had that effect. The brunette's hips started to meet Y/n’s thrust, clenching and helping her drag her cock in her pussy.

“Fuck, your cock is so big, it hurts so good.” Jennie moaned as the pain always mixed with the pleasure.

Y/n huffed, biting her lower lip as she moved one hand and landed its palm against Jennie’s ass since the girl was pushing it out for her so much. It was followed by a mewl from the birthday girl.

“Are you going to take all my cum?” Y/n groaned out, the answer taking a second too long and earning Jennie’s bright red ass cheek another spank. The heat only shot right to her clit and she couldn’t feel embarrassed about it as she loved every second of it. “Everything, I’m going to keep it all inside and be a mommy,” Jennie whined, the words only made her clench more as her own words fueled her.

“You look so good with cock in you, your slutty pussy takes it so well.” Y/n complimented, her eyes falling on where her hard cock was disappearing. The wetness was running down Jennie’s thighs, and her pink folds spread because of the cock that was drilling into her cunt which was growing sore. She was sucking Y/n in, doing everything to milk her and get her cum as she forgot about wanting to orgasm. All she wanted was to be creampied and keep it all inside for as long as possible because it made her feel full.

“Only you can play with it so well, fuck it until it hurts–your cocksleeve, for you to warm in and empty into.”

“You love being used.” Y/n threw her head back, her fingers digging into the flesh of Jennie’s ass and hips. The thrusts were hard, the bed squeaking with every stroke inside the snug sleeve that Jennie was for her cock. The smaller girl moved with each thrust that was throwing her forward, making her grip harder to stay in place. 

“Yes, yes, yes.” Jennie spewed out, the tension in her stomach started to grow and Y/n could feel how much tighter her walls started to get around her. Her hand dropped from Jennie’s ass and went right under her, pushing onto her lower belly, able to feel herself bulge the small brunette's stomach. It was making Jennie dizzy, the pressure grew and she was getting sent right back into floating.

“I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come so hard around your cock, Y/n.” Jennie cried out, writhing in the sheets as she pulled on them with her hands. Her jaw fell slack, the moans going up in pitch and the heat flashed over her, the cries slowly coming in breathless as the control was lost and she couldn’t tell what was going on.

Y/n continued to pound her, the tension slowly easing from Jennie, although her mind remained clouded. Her body was warm and covered in a sheet of sweat. “I’m so close.” Y/n groaned, her tip twitching.

Jennie could feel the cock grow harder in her. “Fuck, breed my cunt, Y/n–shoot it into my womb.” She intentionally clenched her walls and Y/n’s hips stuttered, Jennie, pushing her ass flush against her to get it all shot deep in her. It filled her even more, Y/n and Jennie both moaning. Rope after rope of thick and creamy cum painted her walls white, making her hum at how good it felt to be filled so well again.

“So good,” Y/n mumbled, her body collapsing onto Jennie’s who slumped down on her stomach. Her chest heaved as she peppered kisses along Jennie’s warm shoulder. The kitten hid her face in the sheets, the cock growing limp in her throbbing cunt as she tried to get back on a normal breathing pattern.

“Happy birthday, Jennie.” She let out a breathless chuckle and Y/n slowly pushed herself up.

“It’s not my birthday anymore.” The brunette mumbled, turning onto her back and raising her knees, trying her best to keep the cum within her walls. Her soft eyes fell onto Y/n, dreading it as she was scared that she would leave. The night was over, and so was her birthday.

“It’s the 16th until you go to sleep.” Y/n reminded her and she smiled, biting her lower lip while Y/n reached for her boxers, pulling them back on.

“Y/n…” The latter looked up at Jennie who was already looking at her. She looked like she was on the verge of tears. “Please don’t leave.” She mumbled.

“Jennie–” She cut Y/n off right away.

“Please, even if it’s just for the night.” She begged and Y/n chuckled

“Why on earth would I leave?” She questioned, baffled that Jennie thought she would just leave her, especially after having sex. Maybe they said it during sex, but she would never just use Jennie and leave her behind after.

Jennie felt a weight fall off of her, there was a lightness in her chest. She at times hated how sensitive she was as her lower lip jutted out and her breathing picked up to hold her tears back. Y/n heaved a sigh and got on the bed, with ease she pulled Jennie’s limp body with her as she kicked the duvet down before pulling it over them. The girl hugged around Y/n’s slim waist, burying her face in her shoulder as she couldn’t help but cry.

“Will you leave tomorrow?” She asked through her tears. The younger clicked her tongue and ran her fingers through Jennie’s hair. The both of them drowned in the warmth they shared. 

“Do you want me to?” She had a good feeling that Jennie did not want her to leave. She wouldn’t be crying otherwise. Y/n was right as Jennie shook her head, tightening her grip around her to make sure that she would stay. It made her pull her small body closer to her and she kissed the top of her head.

“If you want…” Y/n trailed off and Jennie lifted her head, her eyes exhausted and filled with tears. Y/n wiped her cheeks with the pad of her palm before she leaned in and kissed her forehead. “I could stay forever.” She suggested and Jennie closed the little gap between them. This time the kiss was soft, neither of them wanting it to rush into anything else than the adoration and love they still and always would have for each other.

“Yes, please.” She mumbled and Y/n smiled against her lips, pecking them.

“I love you, Jennie.” To hear those words again healed all those empty and torn parts in her. They were eager to say them again and wanted to say them a million times more to make up for all the four months that they hadn't said them.

“I love you, Y/n…” She cleared her throat and looked down a little guiltily and Y/n hummed confused. Jennie mumbled something under her breath, her eyes avoiding Y/n’s as she lay in her arms.

“You have to stop mumbling.” Y/n seriously said as the guilty look on Jennie’s face was starting to worry her. She sighed at that and lastly spoke up.

“I’m not actually on any birth control,” Jennie admitted as she had lied. She didn’t care when she hadn’t been sure if Y/n would have stayed. If she had to force Y/n to get back together then she would do so by trapping her. It only made sense to try and get pregnant if she was ovulating and wanted nothing more than Y/n to stay and to have a baby with her.

“You’re evil,” Y/n whispered and Jennie gave her a haughty little smile, showing that she wasn’t as guilty as she pretended to be.

“I don’t care, I only want you.” She pecked Y/n’s lips before she laid her head on her shoulder, nuzzling her face in her neck, drowning in the comforting scent of home that Y/n was to her.

“I only want you too, Jen.” She couldn’t find it in herself to be angry with the kitten. Y/n loved her too much and neither would she mind having kids with her. All she did was pull her closer and hug her, holding her in a way that would lull Jennie right to sleep and at last let her wake up well-rested after so many bad nights of sleep and crying.

“Start preparing to be a parent and do not forget the ring before I get pregnant.” Jennie pointed out and lifted her left hand, showing the empty fingers to Y/n who leaned in and pecked her ring finger. She giggled when Y/n gently bit it and she quickly hid it after.

“Don’t worry about any of it, I still want to marry you and have a family.”

Jennie’s wish did come true once again.

[theotherackerman]

COPYRIGHT DISCLAIMER: Any recognizable elements belong to Attack on Titan or the Beach Read  

NOTES: Not the fic update you thought but one none the less. Still working on others as well!

CHAPTER FOUR:

There was a part of Mikasa that felt guilty for having feelings for Eren again. She came to this conclusion as sat trying to write her romance book.

First thing was first, she had to figure out who these characters were and what they wanted. 

Wasn’t the point of every romance novel to find romance? 

Well, expect Jaeger’s. 

There was always something else going on in the background besides the romance. 

Then again, she hadn’t read any other romance novels. 

She wasn’t even sure what possessed her to read Eren’s novels. 

Okay, another lie.

Too many lies. 

Too many things to keep straight in her head right now. 

The cursor flashed on the screen. 

This was even worse than the other novel. 

Maybe she should just write a novel about Porco getting killed by a ghost.

Her phone went off.

Mikasa stared at her phone for a moment. She almost typed yes but thought better on it. 

Eren sent her another message before she could respond.

Had Eren really propositioned Mikasa? 

Yes. 

Did he regret it? 

Yes.

Did he make it weird?

Apparently not because now she was pulling the front of his cart through Target. It was literally the only department store they had in the small town. 

She had also vetoed the sheets he had tried to buy. 

“Ah. Newlyweds. Remember those days?” An older woman said as they passed them. 

Her husband just grunted as they went by.

Mikasa ignored it so Eren did the same.

“So tell me why those sheets won’t work again because these are twenty dollars more expensive,” Eren asked as he leaned on the cart.

“Because I had them. I had to wash them ten times in a ridiculous amount of fabric softener before they didn’t feel like you’re sleeping on plastic.”

Well, that was a good enough reason for him. He took the plain black sheets from her and dropped them into the cart.  

Mikasa laughed. 

“You know I’ll have you know I’ve never had a woman complain about my sheets before.” 

“That’s because they didn’t have good taste. Besides, who shopped for them before?” 

Mikasa did have a point. His mom had been the one when he went off to college and Carly had done it when they had lived together. 

But he didn’t really want to think about Carly so he changed the subject.

“Armin is coming up towards the end of the summer,” he informed Mikasa.

Mikasa smiled, “really? I haven’t seen him since college. How is he?” 

“He’s good. Always working on his PHD these days.” 

“I cannot imagine being in school for that long.” 

“Me either.” 

A comfortable silence drifted over them as they made their way to and through the check out. 

It was strange because Eren didn’t feel the need to fill the silence between them. It just felt natural. He wondered if Mikasa felt the same. 

Eren had opened the trunk, then put his purchases into the back of his car. 

“So what reckless thing did you do?” Mikasa asked as she watched him.

“What do you mean?” he frowned. 

“Once your engagement ended, what reckless thing did you do?” 

Eren laughed, “nothing. She moved out. Why? What did you do?” 

“Oh. I covered my tattoo I got with him.”

Eren raised an eyebrow, “you got matching tattoos with him?” 

Mikasa laughed, “I know. It was stupid. I thought he got it. I thought he understood that I can’t love anyone. I won’t love anyone. At least not in a romantic sense.”

“I’m sure you could fall in love,” Eren teased her as he unlocked the doors.

“Hmm…maybe in your world everyone falls in love but in mine….”  Mikasa got into the passenger seat. 

“What happened to make you so cynical?” 

“Before or after most of my family died in a fire during a family reunion?” 

“Shit. I knew you mentioned that Levi saved you, I just didn’t know….”

Mikasa shrugged, “it’s not that big of a story. Family reunion at a fancy hotel. Fire started in the basement.  Levi carried me through the fire and then…Kenny tried to go back but it was too late. Glass exploded just as we got out. Levi and I were both hit with glass, Levi worse than me. That’s all there is to it.” 

“Oddly calm talking about the death of your family.” 

“Years of therapy. Kenny and Levi wanted to make sure I would be well adjusted.” 

“And not believing in romantic love is well adjusted?” 

Mikasa shrugged. “Romantic love fades. Yeah, sure. You feel it then things get hard and it stops. Porco swore up and down he loved me. You don’t cheat on someone you love. You don’t fuck someone else when you know how much that will hurt the person you love. That’s not love.” 

Eren nodded in agreement. “That is true. It’s why I can’t understand what my dad did. If my mom approved, it would have been different. But….I don’t know. I can’t wrap my head around it.” 

“So what’s the deal with his first born?” 

Eren scoffed, “you probably know more than I do.” 

“Because I live here? I live out in the woods for a reason. There were kids who called me a witch during Halloween because I had no candy. I wasn’t expecting anyone to come out there. But besides that he works with Hange, I know nothing about him.”

“His instagram didn’t tell me anything when I checked. Not even a post about our dad.” 

“Seems like he didn’t have a good relationship with him either then.”

“I guess not.” 

“We’re both very depressing, huh?” Mikasa laughed.

Eren found himself laughing as well. 

“If you want, I can see what I can find out about Zeke. Petra knows everything about everyone around here and she won’t tell anyone.” 

Eren thought about it for a moment. Did he want to know about Zeke? 

“No need to tell me right away. Just if you ever decide, I can,” Mikasa interrupted his thoughts. 

“I don’t know,” Eren muttered. 

Mikasa nodded. 

“What was your tattoo?” Eren asked to change the subject.

Mikasa groaned. “It was on my ribs. It was stupid. It said forever his and he had one that said forever hers.”

“Wow…”

“I know, I know. It was stupid. But it’s covered now. He got his covered not long after I did.” 

Eren nodded, “so what did you cover it with?”

“A tree,” Mikasa answered simply. 

“A tree?” 

“A tree.” 

“Why a tree?” 

“I don’t know. I like trees?” 

Eren laughed as he turned onto the gravel road that led to their cabin. “Okay but what kind of tree?” 

“I’ll show you when we get back. What about you? Got any tattoos?” 

Eren smirked, “a few.” 

“Hmm…”

“What’s that about?” 

“What?”

“The hmm….”

“Oh. I just never thought you’d be the kind of person to have a tattoo.” 

“Why? Because it doesn’t fit your prince charming ideal?”

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?” 

Eren laughed, “no. Not really.”

Mikasa rolled her eyes before she laughed. "So you coming over to have a beer or are you going to go wash your sheets?"

"Both?" he asked as he raised an eyebrow.

Mikasa laughed again.

-----------

It wasn't long after Mikasa posted the picture that her phone began to blow up. Honestly, they just talked about stupid shit from college. It hadn't been anything exciting.

------------

Eren shouldn't have been surprised when he returned home that he got a message from Jean.

--------

Mikasa's phone went off.

-----------------------

Taking a chance, Eren swapped over to instagram.

-------

Mikasa may have turned on notifications for when Eren posted. She grinned as she pulled up his page.

Mikasa stared at the comment before she switched over to twitter.

--------

The notification of Eren being followed by Zeke Fritz on instagram pulled the smile off of his face.

------------

Mikasa was waiting out there, smoking. 

She didn’t speak. She was just there. 

Eren ran his hand through his hair. 

“It’s so fucked up,” Eren sighed as he walked towards the railing. “I…I just…”

Mikasa moved closer to the railing. “Is there anything I can do?” 

“I don’t even know what I want to do.”

“Egg his car?” 

Eren snorted a laugh. 

“Just an idea. A bad one but an idea.” 

“Thanks.”

Mikasa nodded. “You know you can talk to me anytime, right? I know everyone says but….I mean it.” 

Eren nodded. 

Mikasa gently reached across and put her hand that was not holding the cigarette on his arm. 

His eyes locked with her’s. 

Mikasa looked away, removing her hand. She lifted the cigarette almost to her mouth before Eren grabbed her wrist.

She stared at him again.

He lifted the cigarette still in her hand to his mouth, his lips briefly brushing against her fingers before he took a drag. 

It was single handedly the hottest thing Mikasa had ever witnessed. She was slightly disappointed when he released her hand.  

His eyes locked onto her once again. 

Did he feel it too? 

This electricity that was coursing through her body, like how she felt dancing at that party with him. 

This was bad.

This was so very bad.

If this was just some college crush that she could push away, it would be easier. 

But no.

They had chemistry. 

But had that ever really been a problem? 

Sure, they were rivals but there was also this underlying sexual tension. 

Eren ran his hand through his hair again. “What are you doing tomorrow?” 

“Huh?” Mikasa asked, being pulled from her thoughts. 

“Tomorrow. I know I said you could go first but I think I just got an idea.” 

“Nothing. Staring at my laptop, waiting for inspiration to strike.”

“Good. I’ll pick you at seven. Goodnight, Mikasa,” Eren said before he turned back towards his cabin. 

“Goodnight,” Mikasa called to him.

She was going to need a cold shower. 

[dabbledrabbleprose]

One Last Shot

A mission goes badly and Hanzo is forced to take desperate action to save himself and McCree. The initial concept of Dragons Through Peacekeeper inspired by a couple of different fanart pieces sprawling through Tumblr, but mostly this one by @scatterarrow and obvious credit to @maonethedwarf for the original concept. 

Read on AO3.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

McCree wasn’t sure exactly when the mission went full FUBAR, but he suspected it was around the point that Los Muertos dropped a piñata full of grenades right into the middle of their formation, scattering the team and throwing off any sense of coordination or plan. The communicator in his ear was buzzing with multiple voices as they tried to coordinate grouping back up amid the chaos Los Muertos was causing, and McCree felt that it wasn’t doing much except to add to the confusion. Overwatch wasn’t even targeting Los Muertos this time, damn it all. This was supposed to be a quiet midnight infiltration mission into LumériCo, and they’d had the bad luck of bumping into the gang before they even got to the building.

“Fall back!” McCree shouted into the com, breaking off the other voices. He emptied Peacekeeper’s rounds into the chests of three thugs who tried to corner him in the side street he was on. “Fall back, dammit! Mission’s a bust. We’ve caused too much of a stir to try and infiltrate anything anywhere. Pull back to the transport and let’s get the hell out of here!”

A green-painted teenager lunged out from around a corner, swinging a baseball bat at McCree’s head. McCree tucked down into a roll, out of the way of the bat and behind the kid, hastily reloading before he sprang to his feet, gun at the ready. Goddamn, how old was this kid? Sixteen? Fifteen? Was this how McCree looked to Reyes when Overwatch plucked him out of Deadlock? So young, and already making so many bad decisions. How was he supposed to put a bullet through this kid? He dodged another swing of the bat. Maybe he was getting old and sentimental. When he was a teenager, he’d been lethal as the gun at his side, and he’d killed plenty before Reyes had straightened him out and gotten him to point his gun in a better direction.

The kid lunged at him again, cursing more colorfully than his body paint. McCree caught the bat with his metal arm, using the artificial limb’s unnatural strength to jerk it out of the kid’s hands.

“You’ll thank me for this later, kid,” he promised, then hit the kid in the head with his own bat, knocking him cold. Hell, he really was getting sentimental.

“Status report!” He barked, sprinting away from the kid and down the street, trying to pinpoint where the lingering spurts of gunfire were coming from.

“Almost to the transport, luv!” Tracer chirped in his ear. “I’ll have her warmed up and ready to fly the second you all get back!”

“I’ve got Genji with me, and we’re still in the thick of it,” reported Lucio, who was brought along due to his surprisingly experienced history of breaking into mega-corporations.

“But we are pushing through them!” Genji added, and the grin was evident in the cyborg’s voice. “They are no match for our speed and agility, and we will soon leave them in the dust!”

“Can’t stop, won’t stop!” cheered Lucio, accompanied by the sound of his hardlight blades grinding against something. A wall, probably.

“Hah!” Genji and Lucio shouted at the same time. Good God. Whatever they were doing, it was synchronized.

“You two better not be wasting your time showing off, because none of us are there to appreciate it. Anyone who gets shot doing a stupid stunt has to save their own ass because I’m not coming back for ya. Pretty sure that’s a policy or somethin’,” McCree grumbled as he ran down a street that seemed thankfully empty of gang members.

“I’m pretty sure that policy was put into place because of something you did, McCree,” Genji replied. “Never fear, we’ll escape responsible and sensibly.” He probably said it while doing a backflip or something stupid.

“Hanzo, status report.”

Three breaths passed in silence. McCree frowned, finally getting off the side streets and jogging down the main road.

“Hanzo?”

“I have been followed to the rooftops,” Hanzo snapped into the coms, voice sharp and between panting breaths. “My bowstring has been cut, and they have-”

An explosion interrupted him, and McCree had the disorienting sensation of hearing it roar through both the com in his ear and from the rooftops ahead of him.

“I see you, Han, backup’s on the way! I’m about two blocks south of you,” McCree kicked his run into a sprint, spurs jangling with each step.

“There is a fire escape on the west side of the building. I will be-” Hanzo was interrupted by a second explosion, and degenerated into a string of expletives, only some of which were in English.

Orange stucco and a burning roof greeted him as McCree sprinted toward the building Hanzo was fighting on. As he watched, Hanzo leapt off the roof and onto the fire escape with a clang of metal. He hastily scrambled down the steel stairs and platforms when a hurled metal sphere followed him off the roof, clattering to the platform beside him.

“Hanzo!” McCree shouted, heart catching in his throat. “Grenade!”

Hanzo didn’t hesitate, putting one foot on the railing of the fire escape and launching himself forward, leaping into empty air to put as much distance between himself and the grenade as possible. His arms pinwheeled in the air as he seemed to float, suspended over nothing, until the grenade detonated with enough force to destroy the fire escape and still send Hanzo hurling forward head over heels.

Oh God. He was going to break his neck. Hanzo was going to land on his head and die right in front of him, and there was nothing McCree could do about it. Heart pounding, McCree watched as Hanzo twisted in the air like a cat, as if in slow motion, managing to right himself enough to get his legs underneath him before he landed. There was an unmistakable crack that echoed through McCree’s ears as Hanzo landed hard, then promptly crumpled to the ground as his left leg gave out.

“Hanzo!”

Hanzo was sitting up before McCree finished sprinting toward him, grimacing in pain and pulling the broken string off Storm Bow.

“Hanzo, are you alright?” McCree skidded to a stop before him.

“I suspect my leg is broken, but we have no time for that now. Cover me while I restring her,” the archer ordered, fishing a new coiled bowstring out of a pouch on his quiver and setting Storm Bow before him.

McCree fired off a series of rounds at the rooftop and reloaded, but no Los Muertos came within sight, likely finding a different way off the roof. He heard footsteps behind him and turned to find a group of gang members rushing toward him, following down the street he’d come from. A bullet tore past him, tearing a hole in his serape. Six shots, one reload, and six bodies fell to the ground, with more on the way. There was a roar of an engine and a truck with Los Muertos paint tags and a machine gun mounted on the cab started tearing down the street toward them. Another six shots, another reload, and McCree started backing up toward Hanzo.

“How’re you coming there, sugar?”

“Another few moments,” Hanzo said, not looking up from his work.

A gunner with blue facepaint clambered out of the bed of the truck and took hold of the mounted gun, taking aim as the truck tore down the street toward them.

“Time’s up, darlin’! We gotta move!” McCree turned on his heel and scooped Hanzo up, ignoring the archer’s vehement cursing as he dropped the new bowstring. Without any decorum, he threw him over his left shoulder, metal arm holding him in place and leaving his gun hand free, and sprinted for the backstreets, hoping they would be too narrow for the truck to follow. He ran through the backstreets and alleyways, twisting and weaving, hoping to throw off the Los Muertos following them, but quickly wound up lost himself.

“McCree, Hanzo, status report!” Tracer’s bright voice chirped in their ears. “Transport is up and ready to go, everyone’s here but you!”

“We are en route,” Hanzo replied sharply, neglecting to mention his injuries or that he was slung over McCree’s back like a sack of potatoes. “Expect our arrival shortly. No, turn left!” He slapped the sharpshooter on the back. “You’re going to get us lost!”

“Well, I’m glad you know where we are because I don’t have a clue, honey,” McCree turned left, skidding a little on the gravel in the alleyway.

“Of course not, that’s why you have me here. Straight. Right. The sea looks like it’s still to our left and the LumériCo pyramid is behind us, so we need to keep headed downhill.”

“I don’t know how you can tell all that in these back alleys,” McCree panted. “But I trust you. Just tell me where to go and I’ll get us there. Trying to-” He broke off as a massive yellow-painted thug came charging toward them. Muscle memory took over and McCree let go of Hanzo just long enough to fan the hammer and reload as the thug fell to the ground.

“Hell. I shouldn’t have done that. That’s my last reload,” He sighed, readjusting his grip on Hanzo. “As I was saying, I’m trying to keep off the main roads. If we run into that truck, we’ll be sitting ducks.”

“I know that. Left. And watch where you’re putting your hand!”

McCree honestly hadn’t been able to tell where his prosthetic hand was holding Hanzo, but a quick glance showed that he was gripping him right across his well-muscled rear.

“Aw, Hanzo,” McCree grinned as he took the left turn. “You don’t seem to mind any other time I cop a feel.”

“There is a time and a place,” he growled, grimacing as McCree made a particularly sharp turn, jostling Hanzo’s injured leg. “And this is neither the time nor the place. Across this street! We’re close!”

McCree sprinted across the major road to slip into a different series of narrow side streets. “Now that just ain’t true. It’s always a good time to compliment-”

The blow came out of nowhere, a blade in the gut as a teenager with green face paint and a bruised temple lunged forward from the shadows, sinking a knife between the plates of McCree’s body armor. McCree stumbled, his momentum throwing him forward and sending himself and Hanzo sprawling to the ground. He let out a shout as the kid yanked the knife out from his side.

The kid sneered, twirling the knife in his hand. He was still sneering when McCree put a bullet between his eyes.

“Goddamn,” McCree growled, sitting up with a grimace. He looked at the kid’s cooling body, the ghost of a sneer still on his face. So young. So much potential. Son of a bitch. “Hell. He tried to come at me earlier. Wanted to give the kid a chance and knocked him out instead. No good deed, am I right?” He tried to get to his feet without success, falling back onto his rear with his legs sprawled out before him.

“Jesse, lie still! You’re bleeding!”

McCree felt strong hands press against his injury and a shout of pain tore itself unbidden from his throat.

“McCree is down and I am incapacitated! We require immediate extraction!”

“Sh-shit…” McCree tried to wave him off, despite Hanzo’s protests. “Help me up…They’re still coming, and I got five shots left. M-might buy us enough time for the t-team to…”

“Dammit, Jesse! Lie still!”

A Los Muertos member appeared at the end of the alleyway and shouted up the street. “Over here! I found-” His shout was cut short as McCree sent a bullet tearing through his jaw and he dropped to the ground, screaming and clutching at the gore and teeth that used to be his face.

“Shit,” McCree swore. “Missed. Now that’s gonna draw more of ‘em in. Help me up!”

Hanzo began muttering in Japanese under his breath, and though McCree couldn’t understand the words, he suspected they were all uncomplimentary and all directed at himself. Reluctantly, Hanzo helped McCree sit up, letting the sharpshooter lean back against himself and kept one hand pressed against McCree’s wound, trying to stem the bleeding.

“Four shots left. Gonna make ‘em count. Gonna keep you safe. I promise, darlin’.”

As McCree suspected, a crowd of Los Muertos appeared at the end of the alleyway, some armed with guns, most carrying knives and clubs. He needed to take out the shooters first to buy them more time. He aimed for the closest thug with a semiautomatic, putting a bullet through his eye.

“Three.”

Another went through the heart of a shirtless brute with a pistol.

“Two.”

The next bullet dropped a skinny bald man aiming a shotgun, but did nothing to slow the advance of the growing number of Los Muertos thugs approaching them.

“One shot left, huckleberry,” McCree grimaced. From the end of the alley, he could hear the truck drive up and screech to a halt. “I wish it could be enough. I wish I’d been able to do right by you.” He felt a lump form in his throat. There’d been a time in his life that he could have looked death in the face without fear, without consequences, like a fool. But now that he had a reason to live, it broke his heart that he had to go like this. The fact that Hanzo would die with him only made it worse. He wasn’t even able to protect the one man he cared for the most.

He took aim, wanting to give Hanzo every last second he could.

“It’s been a real treat, Hanzo. The absolute best.” The hoard of gangsters surged toward them, weapons at the ready, crammed into the narrow alley. McCree furiously blinked back tears. He wouldn’t show weakness to his enemy. Not now, here at the end. “I wouldn’t trade it for all the world.” His voice only trembled a little.

Hanzo’s tattooed left arm reached over to close around McCree’s right hand, clutching Peacekeeper with him. His grip was warm and wet, fingers slick with McCree’s own blood.

“You won’t have to. Not today, Love,” Hanzo whispered in his ear. The tattooed arm in front of him began to glow and luminous shapes shifted against the skin, writhing and unfurling into existence. The glow continued, wrapping around his own hand, coiling around Peacekeeper, seeping through the  chamber and barrel, and there was a force, and presence, an incredible power that pressed against his mind from all sides, hungering, waiting for something, and the pressure only grew and grew, closing around him, WAITING, it was ready, they were ready, if only McCree would-

Fire.

“Ryuu ga waga teki wo kurau!”

They pulled Peacemaker’s trigger together.

McCree had never been struck by lightning, but he imagined it would be something like this. Incomprehensible power tore through him, starting where their hands met, ripping through his soul, and exiting through Peacekeeper’s barrel. He could feel twin minds pressed against his own, their touch strange and alien against his soul, their silent, cold judgement evaluating him as they passed through him, and then they were gone, tearing through the alleyway with a roar that deafened him.

When he could see again, the alley was empty apart from scattered weapons. The truck at the end of the street had been tipped on its side. McCree knew better than to ask where everyone had gone.

“How…how…” Peacekeeper slipped from his trembling fingers and he sank back against Hanzo. “Holy shit…they’re real…”

“Be still, Jesse. You’re still bleeding.” Hanzo’s hands were back on his chest again, putting pressure on his wound. McCree made a sound that he hoped sounded more like a growl and less like a whimper as he tried to push past the pain.

“Thought they were hardlight projections. Or a nanite swarm with a fancy light show,” No injury in the world could stop McCree from trying to run his mouth, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to stop now, not when his head was spinning from the Dragons. At least, he hoped that was why his head was spinning. “Never once thought they were god-be-damned real life dragons.”

“Jesse, be still!” Hanzo scolded.

“Goddamn. Real dragons,” His mouth tried to keep rambling, but it was getting harder to breathe. He shifted in Hanzo’s grip and found himself lying flat on the ground, staring up at the night sky above. “H-hey…do they got names? They always hanging around you, or do you gotta call ‘em down from some magic-ass land?”

“Dammit, Jesse!” Hanzo was kneeling over him, both hands pressing on his wound. “Stop it! Stop talking, hold still!”

“Sorry, darlin’,” McCree managed a smile up at him, trying to make it look comforting and not strained. The panic in Hanzo’s eyes didn’t provide much reassurance that he succeeded. “You know me. Mouth like an eight digit outlaw. Always running. …To be honest, I thought I was gonna pass out sooner than this. Not quite sure what to do.”

“You hold still,” Hanzo replied sharply. “You let me try and stop this bleeding. We wait for backup to arrive so we can get you to a medical facility.”

McCree promptly ignored everything Hanzo said as a sudden realization hit him. “Aw…aw, hell. You broke your leg, didn’t you? Are you hurtin’?”

“Jesse…” Hanzo made an exasperated noise. “I am fine. My leg is fine.”

“I know that ain’t true,” he had meant to shout the words, but instead they came out as a hoarse croak with a crack at the end. “I b-been carrying ya the past-” he overdid it and was forced to break off mid-sentence with a gasp as his lungs screamed for air that somehow seemed to be in short supply, then broke into a coughing fit, which did nothing to help.

“Alright, alright,” Hanzo’s voice softened as McCree’s coughing ceased. “Yes, my leg hurts. A great deal, in fact. But I am not the one bleeding out. Please…save some worry for yourself. Let me take care of you.”

The plea in Hanzo’s voice was finally enough to force McCree to relax under his hands, and he didn’t have the heart to argue with the distressed look on the archer’s face. He was also running out of energy to put up a fight.

“Sorry, Han…” He sank back onto the dirty alley pavement, staring up at the star-strewn sky. It was becoming harder to breathe, each breath accompanied by a sharp pain, and he began to feel light-headed. Hanzo finally cursed and wrestled the serape from McCree’s neck, balling it up and pressing it against his wound. McCree grunted as the extra pressure brought on a fresh wave of pain, but liked to think that he hid it rather well.

He tried to look down at himself and felt a wave of dizziness and nausea wash over him, instead letting his head fall back to the pavement with a solid ‘thunk.’ Hold up. His hat was gone. When had he lost his hat? He tried to look around, but with as much success as he’d had trying to look down at himself. Stupid idea. Need to lay still. Figure out how bad he was hurt.

“How’s it look?” McCree asked.

Hanzo didn’t immediately answer and didn’t meet McCree’s eye.

“Give it to me straight, darlin’,” His heart felt like it was fluttering in his chest and his breath was growing quick and shallow. “I need to know.”

“I can’t get the bleeding to stop,” Hanzo admitted. “And you’re bruising badly, which leads me to believe you are bleeding internally as well.”

McCree took a moment to let that sink in. “Well…the team, they’re comin’, right?” The com in his ear had been awfully quiet, which worried him. Oh. No, he couldn’t feel it in his ear anymore. His communicator had fallen out at some point. Probably when he lost his hat. He blamed the dragons.

“Yes, they’re coming,” Hanzo said. “How are you feeling, Jesse?”

“Been trying not to think about it.”

“Please. I need to know.”

McCree almost smiled as his own words were thrown back at him, then stopped to actually evaluate how he was feeling. “…Not great. That whole spot you got your hands on is a world o’hurt. I’m…I’m dizzy. Cold.”

He felt a lump rise in his throat. He’d seen these symptoms before. He knew what was happening. Dammit. Why hadn’t he just passed out earlier? How long would he have to cling on, delaying the inevitable? “…I’m…scared.”

He met Hanzo’s eyes, and he could see that same fear reflected back at him.

“Not how I wanted to go out, Han. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say that!” Hanzo snapped. “Don’t you dare give up on me. The team is coming.”

“Gonna be too little too late, honeybee,” His vision started to swim, Hanzo’s face going blurry on a backdrop of starlight. “Let me have this…Let me go with some dignity.”

“Jesse…” The way Hanzo said his name broke McCree’s heart.

“You gotta…you gotta bury me with my hat, okay? I love that hat,” McCree felt an arm slide under his shoulders, and he didn’t have the strength to lift his head to hold Hanzo’s gaze. The edges of his vision started going dark.

“Jesse, no…”

“I wanted…” his voice cracked. “…I love you, Hanzo. I’m sorry.”

The darkness closed in around him. The last thing he felt was Hanzo’s lips against his own.

This was okay, as far as dying went. This was good.

There were worse places to die than in the arms of Hanzo Shimada.

 *****

 It was a solid ten minutes before McCree realized the light he was staring at belonged to a light fixture in the ceiling instead of a bright light at the end of a tunnel. He blinked slowly and turned his head, trying to get his bearings. Something pulled at his nose as he turned, plastic tubes going up both nostrils, and as he confusedly reached up to touch his face he felt something else tugging at his right arm.

“H…huh?”

“Jesse?”

McCree tried to look toward the sound of his name and tug at the tube up his nose at the same time and ended up smacking himself in the face with his metal hand.

“Dammit!”

“Jesse!”

“Hanzo?” The smack to face woke McCree up like a splash of cold water and he blinked owlishly at Hanzo. They were in what McCree recognized as the medical ward at Watchpoint Gibraltar, a hospital room with the Overwatch logo emblazoned on the back wall. He was in in one of the many beds with an IV line connected to the back of his right hand, oxygen nasal cannula feeding up his nose, and a variety of sensors from monitoring equipment vanishing under his hospital gown. Hanzo was seated in the bed beside his, wearing shorts and a tank top, a book in his hands and his injured leg in a splint. A biotic emitter sat between them, engulfing the room in a faint yellow glow.

“Jesse, how do you feel?” Hanzo set his book aside and leaned toward McCree, though he was careful not to move his splinted leg.

“What…Uh…I feel…groggy.”

“Are you painful?”

“Um…” McCree paused, thinking about the question. “No. Not really. What…what happened? How are we…why are we here? And how am I…” he trailed off before he could finish the words, but Hanzo supplied them for him.

“…Alive?”

McCree nodded.

“Lena drove the entire transport to our location and arrived shortly after you blacked out. Lucio was able to get some blood in you and get you mostly stabilized, and then we were able to bribe the closest hospital into admitting you without keeping any records of you, and they were able to take you to surgery to repair the damage that had been done. Dr. Ziegler flew in and was able to assist in the operation. She had some very unkind things to say about your liver.”

McCree frowned. “What’s wrong with my liver?”

“A lifetime of drinking. Also it had been stabbed.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Indeed. I did not get stabbed.”

“Hah hah. Hilarious.”

“After the procedure, we flew you back here as soon as you were stable enough to transport, before someone could figure out who you were and how much your bounty is still worth.”

“You couldn’t wait for me to wake up first?”

Hanzo shook his head. “As soon as Dr. Ziegler said you were safe to move, we flew out with you.”

“How long have I been out?” McCree fiddled with his IV line and poked at one of the sensors taped to his skin, already getting antsy about them, wanting to be out of the uncomfortably sterile infirmary and back in his own room. And a smoke. God, he needed a smoke.

“Three days.”

“Holy shit.” Oh yeah. He definitely needed a cigarillo. McCree was almost tempted to ask for one, but he didn’t want to think about what Angela would do to him if he dared to smoke in her infirmary. He tried to think of something to distract himself.

“So…those dragons…”

“I was wondering when you would bring that up.” Hanzo sat back in his bed, folding his thick arms, his intricate tattoo on display.

“They’re dragons. Real, honest-to-goodness dragons.”

“They are spirits, tied to my family and tied to me. That’s probably the easiest way to describe them.”

“Tied to your family?” A thought struck him. “So, when Genji does that thing with his sword…”

“Yes. Another dragon,” Hanzo gave him a level look. “I’m a little surprised. I would have thought he would have already discussed this with you.”

McCree shrugged. “Genji was always pretty good at not talking about anything he didn’t wanna talk about. He was a mite cagey about himself back in Blackwatch. Sure he’d be fine with it now, though. Subject just never came up. …So…uh. These spirit dragons. They always with you?”

“To an extent. I can call upon them when needed, and they usually answer.”

“But they’re not…like…” McCree struggled for a way to explain what he was thinking without being obvious. “…always aware of you?”

Hanzo gave him a sideways look. “What are you trying to say, Jessie?” Damn. He knew him too well. Hanzo could always call him on his bullshit.

“I’m just thinking about the number of times I’ve run my tongue down that tattoo,” McCree said. “Didn’t want to offend nobody.”

Hanzo gave him a look and had the audacity to actually turn red. What the hell was he blushing for? He asked, didn’t he?

“I’m just sayin’,” he continued when Hanzo didn’t seem to be forthcoming with an answer. “I ain’t much of an exhibitionist. I’d like to know how many people…er…spirits are watching every time we-”

“No!” Hanzo interrupted. “No, they do not…They are not…no. They don’t…watch. They are not a constant presence in my mind. No.”

“That’s a relief,” McCree grinned. “I may be into a few things, but I ain’t much one for having an audience.”

Hanzo snorted. “That surprises me, what with how eager you are to show your affection at every moment.”

“Naw, that’s different,” McCree said hastily. “A little PDA never hurt anyone. Can’t seem to help myself around you, sugar. I know, I know…you’d prefer to keep everything private…”

“Oh? Is that what you think?” Hanzo asked, and there was just enough of a tease in his voice to give McCree pause.

“…Sugarplum?”

“Were I not under strict orders to not put any weight on this leg, I would have been in that bed with you the moment you awoke, putting my tongue down your throat, audience or not.”

McCree gave a start. “…How long do you have to be off that leg?”

Hanzo smiled and picked his book back up. “At least another day.”

McCree groaned and sank back into the bed. “Goddamn. I think I need you more than I need a smoke.”

“I’m flattered.”

“You should be,” he sighed, and was irritated to find his eyes drooping already. “Hey…Hanzo.”

“Yes?”

“…Thank you. For being here when I woke up,” He could feel Hanzo looking over at him, but didn’t meet his eyes, worried that doing so would get himself all worked up and emotional again. “…It was real good to just…see you again. After thinking I wouldn’t.”

“Of course, Jesse,” Hanzo said softly. “I wouldn’t leave your side for all the world.”

McCree smiled and blinked rapidly a few times before looking over at Hanzo, his partner, his lover, his whole world and sharing a smile with him.

There was nowhere else he’d rather be.

 *****

 Bonus:

“Aw, shit! Did you get my hat?”

“And the moment is gone.” 

[hercleverboy]

persistence

spencer reid x reader

summary ↠ when spencer finds out that the reader has a stalker, he is determined to not let history repeat itself. 

category ↠ angst/fluff

warnings/includes ↠ stalker-like activity, death threats, few swear words, descriptions of blood, puking, spencer being kinda emotionally manipulative

word count ↠   8.2k

“Normality is a paved road. It’s comfortable to walk, but no flowers grow.”-- Vincent Van Gogh

Y/N stared down at the letter in her hands.  Her fingers trembled, tears blurring her vision as she reread the words over and over.  Written in an ominous red ink, a chicken-scratch-like writing filled the page. 

‘If I can’t have you, no one can.’

*

It had all started two months ago. 

First, it was the dark blue Sedan that she began noticing sat across the street from her apartment complex. Of course it easily could’ve belonged to one of the many people who lived in the complex, or perhaps even a friend of theirs. At first, it went unnoticed by her. It was only when she started taking note of the hours it was parked there that she began to get slightly concerned. 

8am to 8pm. Every single day. 

Like clockwork. 

She’d peak through her living room curtains at 8am, and watch the car pull into its usual spot. It wouldn’t move all day but as soon as it struck 8pm, it left again- only to return the next day. 

However, ever the sceptic, she didn’t want to blow the situation out of proportion. Her mind came up with countless possibilities. The owner was staying with a friend who lived close by (but then why would the car not be there overnight?), or perhaps it was an plain-clothed officer doing some form of undercover work? Honestly, there was nothing she hadn’t considered. So while the presence of the unexplainable car was a little unnerving, it wasn’t enough to make her paranoid. 

The paranoia began when sheets of paper began being posted through her letterbox. They always came between the times that the blue car was parked outside, and had only a few words on each one that was delivered. 

‘I’ve been watching you, you know.’ 

‘You’re so beautiful.’ 

‘That boyfriend of yours, does he hold you like I did?’

‘Does he touch you like I did?’

Whilst they weren’t exactly threats, they were enough to set her skin alight. She was constantly looking over her shoulder, jumpy and paranoid. 

Spencer noticed it, too. 

He’d seen the subtle change in his girlfriend’s body language, but didn’t want to push her on the matter. He had asked once, but she’d reassured him that she was fine. So he decided that he’d let her confide in him when she was ready, but that didn’t mean that this change in behaviour didn’t make his heart ache. 

He was a profiler, one of the best, he knew the behavioural tells that signalled fear. 

So what was she so afraid of?

Then the phone calls started. 

Y/N heard the buzz of her phone, assuming it was Spencer calling. He was out of state on a case, but he always called to check up on her, or to notify her he was almost home. Although they didn’t live together yet, Spencer spent most of his spare time at her apartment. (He’d joked once that it was because her place was bigger than his, but really it was because his work took him away from her so often that he wanted to spend any spare minute he could with her.)

Reaching for the device, she frowned as she saw ‘Unknown Number’ flash across the screen. 

“Hello?”

Silence.

“Hello?”

and then she heard it. 

Heavy, husky breathing on the other end of the line. 

The caller didn’t speak. 

Unease filled her as she pulled the phone away from her ear and hung up. She placed her phone down beside her, biting down on her bottom lip as she attempted to rationalise what’d just happened. 

Probably a butt dial, or maybe even a wrong number? 

She pushed it to the back of her mind, distracting herself so that she wouldn’t have to confirm what she already knew was true. 

The second call came two days later. 

Spencer had returned earlier that day from an exhausting but overall successful case. He hadn’t even stopped by his place after landing, instead opting to go straight to Y/N’s apartment, unable to contain his excitement of seeing her for the first time in a week. 

He let himself in with the key she’d given him for their one year anniversary, as he quietly made his way into the home. He called out her name, announcing his presence so she’d know he was home.

When she didn’t come to greet him in the hallway, or even call back to let him know she’d heard him he frowned. He slipped off his shoes before moving down the hallway, his eyes finally landing on her figure in the living room. She was stood by the large window that overlooked the street below them, her phone pressed to her ear. Spencer took in her body language, noting how her shoulders were tensed, and how the hand not holding her phone was gripping tightly onto the curtains as she peaked between them. 

The unknown caller hung up, and Y/N looked down at her phone in her hand, eyes welling with tears- still unaware of Spencer’s presence behind her.  

“Y/N?” He asked quietly, trying not to startle her but still managing to. 

She shrieked, turning around to face him, relief filling her features as she saw the familiar sight of her boyfriend. She forced a smile on her lips and pushed her worries away, wiping the tears from her cheeks quickly and hoping he hadn’t already seen them. “Spence! God, I’m sorry. I didn’t notice you were home.” She chuckled. 

His frown only deepened as he moved toward her. “Is everything okay? Who was that on the phone?” 

Y/N’s breath hitched as she quickly came up with an excuse. “Oh, It was no-one.” She waved it off, hoping she’d played it off well enough to ease his worry. 

Once he reached her he put his arms around her, enveloping her in a tight hug, his arms around her waist. She sighed, hugging him back with her arms around his neck. 

He nuzzled his face into her neck, placing a kiss there that was so soft and delicate that it almost moved her to tears. “You know you can tell me anything, right? If something’s bothering you or worrying you then you don’t have to keep it to yourself. I’m here.” He whispered. 

“I know.” She whispered back, squeezing him gently to comfort herself. “Thank you.” 

Truth is, she knew she could tell Spencer what was happening. She knew that he would immediately inform his team, and with their wonderful minds and Garcia’s infinite systems, they’d have their unsub within days. So what was stopping her?

or more specifically, who was stopping her?

The answer would be Maeve, the woman that Spencer once loved, who he lost so suddenly and so tragically. She’d heard what had happened, and had comforted Spencer when he cried as he told her of the only other woman he’d ever loved, apart from Y/N. He’d confided in her about Maeve around four months into their relationship, and Y/N was grateful that Spencer trusted her enough to tell her such a thing. Losing the person you loved like that? Y/N couldn’t fathom it. Her heart ached for Spencer, and the heartbreak he’d endured.

She didn’t want to worry him over what might be nothing. After what happened with Maeve, she didn’t want to make him suffer all that again, to make him think that it was all happening again. She never wanted to be the reason for his hurt, and she knew that telling him is exactly what it would do- make him anxious, worried. She knew her boyfriend like the back of her hand. He’d go into overdrive trying to protect her, to prevent what happened to Maeve from happening to her. But still, she refused to be the one that set those events into motion. She knew it was stupid, he boyfriend was in the FBI- who are exactly the type of people you’d go to if you had a stalker. 

She had tried to tell him a few times but when she opened her mouth to say the words, nothing would come out. 

The final straw was the letters. 

The first one was pushed through her letterbox on a Friday afternoon. Spencer was at work, thankfully only on a paperwork day instead of being called for a case. There was no name or address on the front of the letter. 

She felt sick. Immediately she knew it was from him. At least she presumed it was a ‘he’, from the possessive tone of voice in the notes. 

She ripped it open, taking out the letter. It was a single sheet of paper, both sides filled with that chicken scratch writing. Her eyes skimmed over the words written before her, tears blurring her vision. It was a love letter. Her stalker even gave her a nickname, ‘Dove’. 

‘My darling dove, you were made for me.’

‘My love for you knows no bounds.’

‘You’ve got such a beautiful laugh, I’ve heard it.’

‘And your skin, so perfect, so soft looking. I’d love to run my fingers along your-’

Y/N let the letter drop to the floor as she felt the bile rise in her throat, dashing to the bathroom and throwing up her stomach contents in the toilet. 

She felt sickened. She couldn’t bring herself to read what was left of the letter, instead screwing it up and throwing it away. The words she had read haunted her, made her feel disgusting. She spent hours in the shower that night, as though she was scrubbing his filthy words off of her skin. 

The letters continued, and with each one, the comments became more and more repulsive. Instead of declaring his undying love for her, her stalker began to get enraged. With each letter he became increasingly angrier, and it shook Y/N to her core. 

‘You whore, I could hear your moaning for that little boyfriend of yours from across the street’

‘When I get my hands on you, you’ll be begging for me to show you mercy’

‘I’ve protected you, watched over you! I’ve taken care of you for months now and this is how you repay me?’

‘Fucking dirty slut. I’ll kill you for that.’

‘What a shame it would be for that pretty flesh to be torn so carelessly, but it seems I’ll have to teach you a lesson, dove.’

‘You’ve made a mistake, choosing him over me.’

All of those led to one final letter. 

Written in red ink, eight simple words with a sinister underlying message. 

‘If I can’t have you, no one can.’

*

Dropping the paper as though it had burned her, she desperately tried to slow the breaths that were increasing rapidly, willing the air to fill her lungs. 

The realisation hit her like a freight train. 

She was in danger, real danger. Now that her life had been threatened, she knew she couldn’t hide it any longer. 

No matter the consequences, she had to come clean to Spencer. 

She scrambled around her apartment, grabbing any evidence she had in the form of letters/threats and made sure she had her phone so she could show them the phone calls from an unknown number. 

She glanced out the window to the street below. It was only midday, and she could see the familiar blue Sedan parked opposite her complex. She just had to get to her car safely, which should be a relatively easy task, given the numerous people who were walking down the bustling street- the perks of living on a main road. 

She made it to her car thankfully unscathed, locking the doors behind her. She didn’t dare look across the road at the car, afraid of what, or who she would see.  As she drove to the BAU, she anxiously tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. She anticipated what Spencer’s reaction was going to be- he’d be angry, definitely. Y/N was torn, she wanted to stand by the decision she’d made two months prior to not involve her boyfriend with what was going on, but now she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d made a poor choice. If she’d have told Spencer earlier, things would’ve been resolved. But by telling him the truth, she couldn’t help but ponder if she was putting him or his team in danger. 

Shaking her head clear the thoughts, she pulled into the car park that was next to the building. Taking a few deep breaths, she grabbed her bag and headed toward the buildings’ entrance. Her palms were sweaty and her throat was dry. What the hell was she going to say? ‘Hey Spence, I have a stalker who’s threatening to kill me that I neglected to tell you about, how’s your day going?’

After being granted access at the front desk, she was given a visitors badge and headed up to the sixth floor of the building. As she stood alone in the elevator, she tried to take a few breaths, feeling the familiar clawing at the back of her throat that indicated she was close to breaking down. She’d been holding it together for so long, been so fucking scared for so long. 

As soon as the doors opened she was greeted with the smiling face of one Penelope Garcia. 

When Spencer and her had begun dating he brought Y/N along to one of Rossi’s pasta nights and the whole team immediately took a liking to her, especially after seeing how happy she made Spencer. However Penelope in particular absolutely adored Y/N, and the two had even hung out together a few times. 

Garcia gasped with a grin as the doors opened. “My sweet Y/N! I got the notification that you’d checked in downstairs and thought I’d come greet you!” She moved toward her, hugging Y/N tightly. “Are you here to see our boy wonder? He’s around here somewhere-” She pulled back when she noticed the tenseness in Y/N’s shoulders. When Garcia met her teary eyes she gasped at the sight. “What’s wrong?” 

Y/N finally let the tears tremble down her cheeks, reaching into her bag to grab the handfuls of threating letters from the person who’d made her life hell for two long months. She handed them to Garcia, who after years of working that job knew from the first few words what they were dealing with. 

Y/N met her worried eyes. “It’s bad, Penny. Really bad.”

Garcia nodded, shocked but still placing a comforting arm on Y/N’s back. “Reid- He never mentioned-” 

Y/N shook her head. “I didn’t tell him. I didn’t want him to worry over nothing but- this is the first time he’s threatened my life and I’m scared, Pen. I’m really scared.” 

Garcia burst into action, coaxing Y/N with gentle words to head into the bullpen. As soon as they walked through the glass doors, all of the team member’s heads turned toward them. Spencer’s eyes immediately fell on his girlfriend’s tear stained cheeks and within seconds he was by her side. 

“Y/N, what’s going on? Are you okay?” 

She shook her head, moving forward and wrapping her arms around him. He didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her, holding her to him as she cried into his chest, her shoulders shaking as she let out everything she’d buried so deep inside. 

He looked over at Garcia, bewildered. She simply walked up to Hotch’s office. The team could faintly hear Garcia presenting him with the papers Y/N had brought with her, explaining what she had told her when she arrived. 

Minutes later Hotch came out of his office, walking down into the bullpen to where the team all looked at one another, confusion on their features. 

“Y/N?” He asked as he approached her, and she pulled back from spencer to see him, wiping her tear stained cheeks. “You’re gonna need to tell us everything. You may be in immediate danger.”

Y/N nodded and Hotch headed off toward the round table room, Garcia scurrying in behind him. The rest of the team, with concerned glances to one another, followed into the room. This left Y/N and Spencer alone in the bullpen. 

She felt Spencer gripping her hand, squeezing gently. Worry laced in his tone, he moved to stand before her and locked onto her eyes. “Please tell me what’s going on.” 

Y/N nodded and cleared her throat, her voice quiet with shame as she spoke. “I have a stalker. He sends letters, calls just to breathe down the line and scare me. In his recent letter, he said he’s gonna kill me.”

Spencer’s eyes widened, his hand dropping from hers and he turning and stalked toward the board room. He had to see the evidence for himself. 

He reached the room and the groups gazes all shifted to him, but he could’ve cared less. He reached out for one of the sheets of paper, eyes quickly scanning over the threatening words as Y/N entered the room behind him. 

“When did this start, Y/N?” JJ asked, that caring, motherly tone present in her voice. 

“About two months ago.” 

“Did you notice anything odd about the neighbourhood beforehand? Cars that weren’t normally there, people stood on street corners at odd times of day?” Derek queried, his eyes scanning over some of the notes she’d received. 

She nodded. “There was a car I noticed, right at the start. I didn’t think much of it until I started taking note of the timings. It would sit there all day, but be gone overnight. Then it would return the next day.” 

“Do remember the colour, or make of car?” 

“Yeah, a dark blue Sedan. Then a few days later the phone calls started.”

“Garcia I need you to run through Y/N’s phone records, see if you can trace the number they were calling from.” Hotch ordered and Garcia quickly left the room, heading to her bat cave. 

“Here, listen to this.” JJ started, holding up one of the first letters. “I’m doing this because I love you, pretty dove. So very much. It’s okay, you’ll see.” She looked up to her team. “He’s planning something.” 

Hotch turned his attention to her. “Y/N’s safety is our primary concern. This unsub seems to have fixated on her, for whatever reason. Y/N, do you have any ex boyfriends or enemies we need to know about?” 

“I have five ex’s, but I don’t think any of them would be capable of this.” She reasoned, but there was a seed of doubt in the back of her mind. 

At her words, Spencer stood up, slamming the letters down on the table with an audible thud before leaving the room. Y/N stared after him hopelessly, Hotch clearing his throat before speaking again. 

“I’ll need a list of their names.” 

Derek piped up. “We also need to know locations of spots that you frequent, anywhere you may have met this guy. Coffee shops, restaurants, even the library. No detail is too small, okay?” 

Y/N nodded, turning back to stare out the door that Spencer had stormed out of moments before. “I’m just going to go check on him.” She murmured, earning an apologetic smile from JJ. 

* 

She found him outside the building, sat on one of the stone steps of the staircase that led up to the buildings entrance. He had his head in his hands, trying to calm down the thoughts that sped through his overworking mind. 

She sat beside him, draping his coat that she’d grabbed from his desk over his shoulders to combat the cold winter air. “You’ll catch a cold.” She muttered, offering a small smile as he looked over at her. Despite how he felt, he let the smallest of smiles find its way onto his lips at the comment. She had a stalker threatening her life and she was worried about him catching a cold?

They sat in silence for a little before Y/N broke it. “I’m so sorry, Spencer.” 

“Why are you sorry? It’s not your fault.” He mumbled, looking out to the street, watching people walk by. When Y/N didn’t answer, he spoke again. “You could’ve told me, you know?”

“I know, and I’m sorry I didn’t.” She whispered sincerely. 

“Why didn’t you say something, Y/N? I would’ve dropped everything to make sure you were safe.” He promised, trying to make his voice sound strong, but failing as it cracked with his words. 

“I didn’t think it was important. He wasn’t threatening at the start, and I thought I could handle it.” Now the words were leaving her mouth, she knew she sounded stupid. 

“You didn’t think it was important?” Spencer repeated back to her, his breaths heavy as he failed to understand her reasoning. “Y/N you are the most important thing in the world to me. Okay? Please tell me you know that.” He turned his body toward her. 

“I know. I know and I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. It’s just I know- after everything that happened before with Maeve-“ She paused for a moment. “I didn’t want to worry you over nothing.”

His breath hitched when she said Maeve’s name, and Y/N could almost see him replaying the moment he lost her in his mind. The curse of an eidetic memory. 

“I’m not going to let that happen to you- no, not you. Never you.” He sniffed, reaching over to take her hand in his. 

She nodded, tears filling her eyes once more. She cuddled into his side, her head dropping on his shoulder. She sniffled. “I’m scared, Spencer.” 

“It’s okay. He’s not coming anywhere near you, Y/N. I swear to you, he’s not going to hurt you. Not while I’m here.” He brought her hand up and pressed a kiss to the back of it. 

*

Over the next few days, the team spent hours analysing ever piece of evidence Y/N had received, and Garcia went through tons of security footage, trying to get a good look at whoever was in the blue Sedan. She’d ran the license plates, but they’d come back as being fake, so that had been a pretty dead end, and the phone number she’d traced had come from a payphone, so there was no lead there either. 

Spencer was evidently over-working himself, not taking breaks from work to eat or sleep. He reread the words a hundred times, desperately looking for what it was he must’ve missed. He was filled with this overwhelming need to protect her, to keep Y/N safe. To succeed where he’d failed previously. He couldn’t afford to make the same mistake he’d made with Maeve. He’d let his emotions cloud his judgement and it cost Maeve her life. He wouldn’t make that same mistake again. 

There wasn’t time for that, not when Y/N was in danger. 

Y/N spent most of her time alongside Spencer at the BAU, mostly because he insisted that she was somewhere he could keep an eye on her at all times. She only went home in the evenings so she could change and sleep in her own bed, but always with a police escort that Spencer had himself done a thorough background check on and knew could be trusted. 

Eventually, It had been an entire week. Spencer had only had a handful of sleep, only when the exhaustion became too much did he pass out and actually get a few hours of sleep before he was right back at it. Members of the team who attempted to gently voice their concern for him received a scowl in response, with Y/N even trying to get through to him, but he just shrugged her off. Ultimately, Hotch had to pull him aside to talk. 

Hotch walked into the room where Y/N sat reading silently in the corner while Spencer’s eyes ran over the words he’d already read a hundred times. 

“Reid, Can I speak to you?” 

Spencer’s head snapped up, pissed that he was being interrupted from the task before him. He grunted under his breath, standing up and walking out of the room. 

Hotch brought Spencer up to his office, closing the door behind them so there was some dilution to the raised voices that were definitely going to come from this conversation. He sighed, turning to face the younger man and crossing his arms. “The Bureau don’t want us using any more of our time on this case. The unsub has been inactive for a week, and we have other cases building up that take priority.” 

Spencer scoffed. “You want us to stop? You can’t be serious.”

“I’m afraid not. The order came from above me, I have no power here. The best we can do for now is send Y/N home with police protection until this guy resurfaces.” 

“You wanna send her home? No way, Hotch! There’s some son of a bitch after her and you want her to be at home?” He was angrier than Hotch had seen him be in a long while. 

Hotch sighed. “Reid. It’s out of my hands. I recognise how hard this is for you, but we have no choice.”

“But I- I can’t protect her if she’s not with me! I can’t keep her safe.” His tone changed from angry to more of a begging. “Please, Hotch. There’s got to be something you can do.”

“I’m sorry.”

Spencer huffed, his anger returning. “Bullshit! You know as well as I do that she’s vulnerable as soon as she leaves here. Police presence or not, if something happens to her-” 

Hotch shot him a warning look, which made Spencer stop mid-sentence.

“You’re done with this case for now, understand? Until he resurfaces, we have other priorities.” Hotch spoke. Spencer scoffed, walking and brushing past his unit chief. “That’s an order, Reid.” He warned. 

Spencer ignored him, heading back to the room he’d left Y/N in, his mind refocused on getting back to his previous task-  despite Hotch’s orders. 

He stepped into the room, slamming the door closed behind him, earning a surprised squeak from Y/N, who still sat in the corner with her book in hand. He looked over at her, running a hand through his hair frustratedly. “He wants you to go home, and we have to put the case on hold because we have others to work on. Can you believe that? How could he ask that of me?” He laughed humourlessly as Y/N shut her book, placing it next to her. 

She sighed, standing, knowing he wasn’t going to like what she had to say. “Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “What?” 

It was just the protective side of him coming out, and at first Y/N thought it was endearing, but he couldn’t neglect his own needs to favour hers any more. She wouldn’t let him. 

“Spencer, you gotta stop this. I know how hard you’re working, and I’m so grateful, but you’re killing yourself here.” Her voice was gentle, hoping she’d be able to appeal to him. 

“No! No Y/N I’m not stopping until we get this guy, until you’re safe.” He snapped. 

“You heard what Hotch said, you have other cases that need to take priority.” She moved toward him, still trying to reason with him. She was still scared to death, and she didn’t particularly want to leave Spencer’s side- after all he made her feel safe. But there were people who needed him and his team, and if she was no longer in imminent danger, his talents were needed elsewhere. It made her feel sick, but it’s the way it was. They were just going to have to wait for this guy to make his next move. 

“But Y/N, you are my priority. Don’t you get that?” He asked, moving back as she came toward him. The motion hurt her, so she stood still. 

“I do, I promise you I do, but there’s people out there who need that beautiful mind of yours more than I do right now.” 

He scoffed. “So you just expect me to give up?” 

“Of course not, but Hotch is right. What if this guy never makes any other moves? What if he just wanted to scare me? You can’t waste your time. It’s too valuable.” 

“And what if the second you walk out of those doors he gets you?” Spencer shouted, his arms coming out by his sides to exaggerate his point. 

“Then you’ll find me. If that happened, which is a worse-case scenario, I have faith that you and this team would find me and bring me home.” 

“And if I can’t? If I fail, again? If I have to watch you die like I watched-” His breath hitched, his voice catching. He cleared his throat before speaking again. “No, No. I will not lose you, do you understand? I will not stop looking for this son of a bitch, not ever. I’m not letting you go home, Y/N. I’m sorry, that’s final.” 

“Spencer, you can’t keep me here. You’d be disobeying Hotch’s direct orders-” 

He shook his head. “I’m not having this conversation with you, Y/N. I’ll talk to Hotch, change his mind. Just- stay here. Please.”  The last word was quiet and pleading, a stark contrast from the tone he was using before. He picked up the evidence files he was going through and walked away, feet stomping as his anger still radiated off of him. 

* 

Y/N had stood there for a minute, collecting herself before she took a shaky deep breath, bringing her hand up to wipe the tears that trickled down her cheeks. 

She walked out to the bullpen, ignoring how Spencer had asked her to stay. Her eyes met Derek’s who offered her an apologetic smile. 

“Hey.” He called out to her as she passed by. “Whatever the kid said, he didn’t mean it. He just wants to keep you safe.” 

She gave a sad smile. “I know. Um, is it alright if I just step out the front for some air? I’m feeling a little boxed in.” 

“Sure thing. I’ll keep you company, make sure you get back alright.” He stood up from his desk chair, grabbing his jacket and accompanying her downstairs. 

When they got there Y/N turned to him. “Is it alright if I have a moment alone? I’ll stay where you can see me, I just need a minute.” 

Derek was hesitant, but nodded. She pushed open the doors, out into the cold night. She remained stood by the front doors, where they bright lights from indoors seeped outside, lighting up the pavement. She took a few deep breaths, letting the cold air fill her lungs, hoping it’ll help alleviate the stinging pain in her heart. She looked up at the sky, willing herself to keep her tears at bay. She appreciated what Spencer was doing, and adored his instinct to protect her, keep her safe. She knew how stubborn he could be at times, but now she thought about it, maybe when she sided with Hotch earlier it made it seem like she didn’t have his back, which was certainly not the case. 

Derek watched as Y/N collected herself, seeing that she was about to turn and come back inside. Suddenly someone bumped into his side, his attention turning from Y/N to the person who collided with him. He looked over to see a young man he didn’t recognise. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going. My apologies.” The man apologised before walking off. 

Derek furrowed his brow, before turning back to look outside. 

Y/N wasn’t there. 

He bolted forward toward the doors, flinging them open and looking left and right for any sight of her. 

She was long gone. And so was whoever took her. 

Hearing a crinkle beneath his feet, Derek looked down at the sound, noticing a scrap piece of newspaper on the floor where Y/N had been stood. 

He picked it up, unfolding the paper. On it, written in the familiar blood red chicken scratch was the same threatening message Y/N had received before. 

‘If I can’t have her, no one can.’ 

* 

Derek placed the paper down on the roundtable, that the team was now gathered around, shock and worry on their faces. 

Hotch closed his eyes with a sigh as he looked at the paper, guilt rushing over him. Just then Spencer came into the room, immediately picking up on the mood that had settled over the team. 

“What’s’‘-” His eyes landed on the message, the realisation spreading over his features. “Where’s Y/N?” He asked, a sort of denial in his voice. 

“He has her.” Derek confirmed, bowing his head down in shame that he hadn’t protected her like he was supposed to. 

“Morgan, What happened? You took her out to get some air and then what?” Emily asked, trying to establish where it’d gone wrong. 

“I took my eyes off of her for a minute, some guy bumped into me and it distracted me, and when I looked back she was gone.” 

Emily’s mouth opened as she connected the dots. “It must’ve been a distraction, one guy bumps into you so that you take your eyes off of her while the other guy grabs her.” 

“So what, we’re looking for a partner here as well?” JJ posed, looking up at her team. 

“It would seem so. He waited for his opportunity, and when it came he took it.” Rossi chimed in. 

“This is now an active investigation, we have a missing woman who’s already been gone for nearly an hour. We’ve got to work fast.” Hotch ordered, which sent the team out of their seats, each with a task assigned to them. However, Spencer still sat in one of the chairs, trembling fingers trailing over the words before him. The air in the room seemed thinner, his lungs working harder to fill themselves. 

“Reid? Reid.” Morgan tried, but all he got from Spencer was little incoherent mumbles. 

Finally, he looked up to meet Morgan’s eyes, the words he’d been whispering falling from his lips in a more audible whimper. “He’s gonna kill her.”  He choked on his words, the realisation crashing down on him. “I’m going to lose her too.” 

* 

Time was a precious thing. 

Spencer had never been more aware of how quickly the seconds passed than he was at that moment. 

He was on his knees, hunched over the toilet, hands gripping the sides in a vice-like grip, desperately trying to push down the nauseating feeling creeping its way up his throat. After the note that Morgan found, Spencer had rushed into the toilets, standing over the toilet bowl as he dry-heaved, holding himself back from being sick. He took heavy breaths, eyes screwing shut as he tried to think of anything other than the danger that Y/N was in. 

He tried so hard to ignore the familiarity of the situation. 

The thought set in motion a memory that he’d much rather forget, one that he pushed so far back in his mind so he could deny it had ever happened, that he’d ever allowed it to happen. 

Ultimately, it was the curse of his brilliant memory, having the ability to perfectly recall things that happened years before. 

As if he could ever forget that day, eidetic memory or not. 

“Diane, Diane, there’s still a way out of this.” 

“You never wanted me. Never! You lied!”

Diane has her arm around Maeve, gun pointed at her head. The bullet she’d shot into Spencer’s shoulder felt numb, the scorching pain felt irrelevant to the fear spiking his heart. 

“I didn’t. Diane, I offered you a deal and you can still take it. Me for her. Let me take her place.” His eyes lock on Maeve’s, so full of fear, and he tries to reassure that she’ll be fine- because he knows she will. How many times has he talked down an unsub waving a gun around? She would be okay, she had to be. 

“You would do that?” 

“Yes.” 

“You would kill yourself for her?” 

“Yes.” 

Of course he would. In a heartbeat. 

“Thomas Merton.” 

Maeve’s voice was small but sure. What scared Spencer the most was how certain she sounded, as though she’d accepted that this was her fate; her end. 

“Who’s Thomas Merton?”

“He knows.” 

She loved him. And he loved her. Oh how bittersweet. 

“Who’s Thomas Merton, who is he?” 

“He’s the one thing you can never take from us.” 

Its only a moment’s hesitation, a moment that he should’ve reached for a gun, a moment where he should’ve taken his shot. 

“No.” Diane scowled. 

Time is a precious thing.

and Maeve’s was up.

“Wait-” 

The shot still rung clear in Spencer’s ears, a sound he was sure he would hear for the rest of his days. His breaths were heaving again, his eyes flying open as he willed the image of Maeve’s body to leave his head. But when his eyes screwed shut again, it was someone else in her place. 

It wasn’t Maeve’s body on the floor anymore. Instead, in her place lay Y/N, blood gushing from the open wound at the side of her head, her lifeless body cold against the concrete floor. 

That’s the thought that made him sick, throwing up into the toilet at the thought of watching Y/N die the same way he watched Maeve. 

Taking gasping breaths, he sat back against the side of the cubicle, hands running down his flustered face, feeling the streaks of tears that trembled down his cheeks. 

He shook his head, as if that would erase the horrific thoughts swimming around. He reminded himself that Y/N was still alive, and they had no reason as of yet to believe that she wasn’t. It was that thought that made him pull himself to stand, raking his hands through his hair and trying to calm his quivering hands. 

Y/N was still out there, waiting for him to save her. 

He grit his teeth together as he walked out of the toilets. 

He wouldn’t hesitate this time. He was not going to lose her. 

*

He walked back into the roundtable room, ignoring the looks he received from the team. They had been bouncing theories off of one another, trying to use their profile to figure out who their unsub was, and where they would’ve taken Y/N. 

��Is it possible a woman is our unsub, or perhaps even the partner?” Emily posed, her eyes scanning over one of the letters. 

Derek shook his head. “I don’t think a woman would use language like this, it’s very derogatory, it exerts a power over Y/N.” 

The team fell quiet in thought, only interrupted when Garcia came scurrying in, her laptop in her hands. “You’ll never guess what I just found!”

Everyone looked up to her, Hotch speaking. “What is it, Garcia?” 

“I looked over the list of Y/N’s exes, and only one of them jumped out to me as a little suspicious. So I did some digging.” She tapped a few keys on her laptop before grabbing her remote and  broadcasting to the team what she’d found on the TV. “Daniel ‘Danny’ Stone, 29, dated Y/N three years ago. He was her last boyfriend before she met Reid.”

“Three years? You don’t think he’s still bitter about the relationship ending?” Emily asked, confused. 

“Three years is a long time. Why surface now?” JJ chimed. 

“Reid, did Y/N ever mention her previous relationship ending on a rough note?” Rossi asked, turning to face the younger boy. 

Spencer frowned. “She said the breakup was a little rocky, but nothing awful. The last time she spoke about him was a few months ago, said he got in some sort of accident?” He looked to Garcia for confirmation, and she nodded. 

“Indeed. Stone was involved in a road collision four months ago.” 

JJ hummed, looking through the medical reports on her iPad. “Says here he suffered brain damage, specifically to his pre-frontal cortex.” 

“Well that would explain why this stalker seemingly came from nowhere. People who suffer damage like this are impulsive, unable to make rational choices.” Derek posed. 

“So what’s the theory here? He wakes up after this accident, and because of his injury chooses to track down his ex? Three years after they break up?”

Morgan shook his head. “It isn’t a choice. Not anymore. He has to do it. He’s become fixated on her. He knows she’s with Reid, and like he said, If he can’t have her, the neither can Reid.”

“Okay, but why stalk her? What does he gain from that? Instead of just taking her and getting what he really wants?” Emily questioned. 

“This newfound impulsivity would make him a risk-taker. He’ll do things that the average person wouldn’t dream of trying. But it’s unlikely that Stone actually staked out Y/N’s home, or delivered the letters to her door. He wouldn’t have the self-control to span this out over months. He just pulled the strings.” 

“So that was his partner, then.” JJ deduced, earing nods from the team. “Then  what does the partner gain from this? Why help Stone?” 

“Maybe Stone manipulated them. Perhaps he has some form of information on them he’s using as blackmail?” 

“Did you get an address on Stone, Garcia?” Hotch asked, and Garcia nodded enthusiastically. 

“You know I did, It’s already been sent to your phones.” 

“Alright, let’s go.” 

The team all stood, heading for the doors. Spencer was quick to get up and follow, hope sparking in him now that they had an address. He was just about to leave the room when Hotch’s voice stopped him. 

“Reid, you know I can’t let you come with us.” His voice was firm, he knew there could be no room for error here. Not after what happened last time. 

“Like hell you can’t.” Reid snapped, turning around to face him. He’d regret his smart mouth later when Hotch undoubtedly told him off for it, but at that moment who couldn’t have cared less. 

“We will get her and bring her home, but you can’t be involved in this. It’s a conflict of interest, you know that.” 

“Oh, so it wasn’t a conflict of interest when you went after Foyet?” 

It was a cheap shot, one that Spencer really regretted the second he said it, but amends could be made later. 

Hotch’s face didn’t falter, despite the petty jab. “Yeah, and look where that got me.” 

Spencer’s defesnive stance dropped, his arms falling by his sides. “Hotch. You were there when when Maeve died. Do you remember it?” 

“Of course.” 

“Not like I do. I can see every second of it every time I close my eyes. I can’t go through that again. I almost didn’t make it out the other side, If it happened again I don’t know if I could cope-” He stopped, his voice catching in his throat. “Just- Please.”

Hotch grunted, giving in. “Fine, but you can’t allow your emotions to cloud your thinking. I know it will be difficult but I need your head to be in this.Y/N’s life depends on it.” 

Spencer nodded and they headed down toward the SUV’s. 

*

They pulled up to the address, lights blaring and sirens sounding. They all quickly jumped out and regrouped, strapping their kevlar vests to their chests as they moved. They were stood in front of an abandoned apartment complex, one that had ben uninhabited for years. 

 “Alright Morgan, Prentiss I want you to go around the back, find a way in through there, see if you can find this partner of his. JJ, Rossi and Reid you’re with me. ” Hotch ordered, as they all drew their guns and prepared to head in. 

As they stealthily walked through the building, they listened for any noise that indicated where the unsub was. Hotch, who was leading the group, pushed open a door to the staircase, and they were about to head up when they heard a bang coming from the floor below them. 

They headed down the stairs, seeing that they were entering the buildings basement. They rounded the corner, guns at the ready, and stepping into a small boiler room. 

In the centre of the room, Daniel stood. He held a struggling Y/N to his chest, his arm around her neck and gun placed at her temple. 

Spencer recalled how it the sight was all too familiar, how Diane had held Maeve the same way. 

Daniel’s voice broke him from his thoughts. “If you step any closer, she dies.” 

“Okay, okay. We’ll stay back, but I need you to put down the gun.” Hotch tried, shooting a look over his shoulder to Spencer, a look that told him to stay put. 

Daniel shook his head. “No. You’re going to ruin everything!”

“Ruin what?” JJ asked. 

“My chance do what’s right. Y/N doesn’t want me. But I love her, can’t she see that? I would do anything for her, and still she would choose him over me?” Daniel’s eyes moved to meet with Spencer’s, narrowing. 

“Daniel, we know what you went through. We know about your accident, how you’ve felt so out of control since, but if you come with us we can get you the help you need.” Rossi was next to attempt to convince him, but to no avail.

“No- No!” Daniel scowled, clenching his teeth as his gaze fixated on Spencer, who’s eyes were locked with Y/N’s, trying to silently reassure her that she was going to be okay. “She’s mine. I protected her, I’ve looked out for her. She’s finally going to understand.” He looked down at Y/N, his grip on her tightening, causing her to let out a frightened yelp. 

Spencer gulped, tearing his gaze from Y/N and onto the unsub, putting on a strong and unbothered facade. He wouldn’t let himself be clouded by his emotions, not this time. “You’re right. You kept her safe, and I’m very grateful that you protected her when I failed to.”

“Thats right. You failed her. I’m so much better for her.” He seethed through his teeth. “ And that’s why, if she won’t chose me, she’ll have to die with me.”

“You don’t want to do that, Daniel. Put down the gun. We’ll bring you in, and if you tell us all about this partner of yours, we’ll tell everyone that you co-operated.” JJ suggested, her gun still aimed up at him. 

“Why are you doing this?” Y/N gasped out, still struggling against his hold. 

“Because if I can’t have you, the neither can he. No, No.” He grinned, bringing the gun up to his his own head. From where it was angled, the bullet would pass through his own head, and lodge itself in Y/N’s too. “You’re mine, Y/N.” 

This time, Spencer didn’t hesitate. 

One single gunshot. 

Daniel collapsed to the floor, a bullet between his eyes. 

Y/N fell to the ground with him in a fit of sobs, scrambling to get away from the man who lay dead on the floor, the pool of blood growing around him.  

Spencer holstered his gun, immediately surging forward to wrap a trembling Y/N up in his arms. 

“It’s okay, you’re okay. I’ve got you, you’re safe.” He cooed, rubbing a hand on her back in a soothing manner. 

She sobbed into his chest as he held her, tears forming in his own eyes at the sound of her cries. But Spencer allowed himself a moment to breathe, looking over Y/N’s shoulder at the man he’d just shot without hesitation. 

And he’d wouldn’t be losing any sleep over it, either.  

He tightened his arms around her, thankful that she was safe. He brought her up to stand, his arms still tight around her. He looked toward his teammates, nodding gratefully at them as he walked Y/N out of the building. As he passed, he overheard JJ and Hotch’s conversation. 

“Emily and Morgan found the partner fleeing out the back. They say he’s agreed to talk.” 

With an internal sigh of relief, he held Y/N closer as they stepped out the doors of the building, guiding her toward the medical staff so she could be checked for injuries, despite how she told him she was fine. After it was concluded that she’d come out pretty unscathed, with only a few cuts and bruises, Spencer came and sat down next to her. She smiled weakly up at him, and he knew it would take a while for her usual bright smile to return, but she was alive- and right then that was all that mattered. 

He immediately took her hand in his, gripping it tightly. 

“Is it over?” She asked quietly, and he nodded. 

“Yeah, they got the partner, and he’s going to co-operate in return for a reduced sentence, but he’ll still be going away for a long time.”

She nodded, her head dropping onto his shoulder. “Thank you so much, Spencer. You saved me.” She whispered. 

“You don’t have to thank me. I’m sorry about the argument we had, I was being a jerk. I just wanted to protect you, but in the end you still ended up getting hurt.” He frowned, looking down at the gravel ground. 

“It’s okay, I understand. I’m sorry you had to relive all of this again, I can’t imagine how difficult that must’ve been for you.” She sighed, guilt overwhelming her. 

“Hey, no. You’re safe, that’s all that matters.” He promised and she nodded against him. 

Giving her hand a squeeze, he turned slightly to press a lingering kiss to her forehead. 

“Let’s go home, sweetheart.” 

[spiderlilyserendipity]

Deserve (KSJ x reader) 🔞

Genres: angst, smut, & fluff

Tags: brat tamer ksj, brat!reader, dom/sub elements (obv LMAO), references to cheating (no actual cheating by jin or oc dw), spanking, fingering, established relationship, possessive sex, unsafe sex (be safe irl y’all), insecurity, mentioned breeding kink, mentioned hand kink, sexting, jealousy, aftercare (always important!), lots of hickeys, whooo this one is wild

Warnings: ksj uses some mean language in this fic (slut, bitch, etc.)

WC: 3835

Reminder: 18+ ONLY

You grin to yourself at the sight of Seokjin readjusting his pants to hide his erection. The camera is angled low enough that no one notices, especially with the winter coat on top of his clothes, but Seokjin is embarrassed, you can read him well.

You love the sight of his large member tenting in his pants, even more so when it’s because of your actions.

You stopped by the set today to surprise him with dinner after a long shoot, but then you got jealous.

You and Seokjin haven’t seen each other in a few weeks due to his work, and he hasn’t been picking up your calls lately. You decided to put up with that, since it hasn’t even been a year of dating yet. Most people don’t call ten month long relationships “serious”. But when you were waiting on him to finish work, you saw Seokjin’s fans talking about his newest interview on Twitter.

Seokjin has such good chemistry with her! One fan commented.

Yeah he totally does 😍😍 I wonder if they’re dating on the DL HAHAHA. Another added.

That makes sense actually! I hear she also majored in acting, and at Seokjin’s college, too!

You watched the interview and you agreed, he had been too friendly with her. You know it’s all work, as an actor Seokjin has to be charming and suave. It’s the only way he can convince the audience he is deserving of the roles he plays. But something bothers you about the way they interact. It almost feels real.

Out of jealousy, you go to the bathroom and take a picture of yourself topless and send it to Seokjin. You pinch a bit of your skin until it reddens, making it look like a hickey. Then you do it again, in another place. They’re hard enough pinches to start to bruise, and you bet they’ll be deep purple in a couple hours. You caption the picture as if you don’t hurry, I’ll go back to him soon.

There is no ‘him’ of course. You’re exclusive to Seokjin, both romantically and sexually. But hey, you can’t be the only one that’s a little jealous.

You leave the dinner you packed for Seokjin in his dressing room and leave just in time to see him open the text out of anyone else’s sight (as he opens all your texts to prevent people finding out about your relationship).

You turn around and happily skip back to your car. Seokjin can be the frustrated one now, you’ve had it.

When Seokjin comes home, it’s nearing midnight. The shoot went on another 3 hours after you left, 3 painstaking hours you laid in bed and pretended to sleep.

Seokjin knows it, too.

“Covers off.” He says instead of hello, not even turning the lights on. When you stay still, he shuts the bedroom door and locks it even though you’re home alone in his apartment. You don’t usually use the house key he gave you since you always felt it was a bit early for you to even have one, but Seokjin had insisted on giving one to you (although oddly he never demanded one to your house in return). But tonight, you’re not shirking away from any sort of commitment. You don’t care what Seokjin thinks of you using his house key and waiting in his bed, if it looks clingy. You’re clearly not that important to him anyway.

The only light Seokjin turns on is a small bedside lamp he only keeps on when you have sex, to be able to read your facial expressions even when you’re tied up or blind folded.

Seokjin pulls the covers off you, leaving you cold. “Y/N. I’m here. Quit pretending to be asleep. If you want to come tonight, show some fucking respect.” He snaps, shaking your shoulder. You open your eyes and glare up at him. Seokjin rolls his eyes. “Get on your knees.” He orders.

You do so. You’re dressed in only a pair of black lace panties and one of his oversized long sleeve shirts. You showered and shaved for tonight, and you’re sure he can smell his own body wash on you. But you’re not anywhere close to behaving yet, and you stare ahead. Seokjin tugs down the collar of your shirt to reveal your collarbone and the top of your chest where there are two bruises that look uncannily like hickeys.

At your unusual silence, Seokjin stops to check on you. “Colour.” He states rather than asks.

“Green.”

Seokjin clicks his tongue in disapproval at you. His temper is worse with you today. You have obviously pushed him further than he has ever gone tonight with your picture. “Look me in the eye when you tell me your colour. Have I not trained you well?”

You look him in the eye, anger flashing on your face. “No, you haven’t.”

Seokjin tightens his jaw. A muscle quivers in his cheek as he does it. “Is that the right way to ask sir to fuck you, princess?” He asks in a threateningly calm voice. His voice is just above a whisper and sends a chill down your spine.

You know what you’re asking for though. You both do. You smirk up at him. “Green.”

Seokjin sits at the edge of the bed. “Over my lap this instant.” He tells you. When you continue to glare, he smirks. “You know it’s been a month since we did this. I won’t fuck you for another month if you push me any further. Write down the fucking date if you want to, Y/N.”

Knowing Seokjin always keeps his promises, you quietly bend over his lap. You can deal with being spanked or even edged until you’re crying, but being deprived of Seokjin’s touch altogether is the worst and you both know it.

Seokjin chuckles, tugging his shirt up and over your ass. He begins to knead your ass between his hands roughly, making you whine. “Who asked you to stop by the set today?”

“No one.” You answer.

Seokjin slaps your ass hard. “Does this look like a regular conversation to you? Use your manners.”

“No one, sir. I stopped by because I wanted to.” You correct, already breathless. Seokjin’s first few hits are usually lighter, but he doesn’t have that kind of patience with you tonight. He gives you the kind of smacks he saves for the end right at the start.

Seokjin scoffs, continuing to knead at the same part he just hit. You wriggle in his lap at the touch, making him laugh at you. “Are you that sensitive because I haven’t fucked you in so long? Or is it because your new dom is too soft on you?”

Another hit to the opposite cheek when you take too long to answer. “Do you want to go another month without coming?” Seokjin growls in your ear.

“N-No, sir.” You answer.

Seokjin scoffs at your answer. “Sir, my ass. If you had any respect for me you wouldn’t cheat. I bet you act all coy with him because he doesn’t know you like I do. I bet he thinks you’re some soft little sub that can only be fucked in missionary position. But he doesn’t know you’re a disobedient bitch, does he, Y/N?”

Two more hard smacks, followed immediately by him kneading your ass. “N-No, sir.” You reply breathlessly. Seokjin didn’t give you a number of hits tonight, which means he is going to punish you until you’re crying. Those nights always left you sore the next day, but tonight you feel sore already. Even just sitting tomorrow will be an achievement, forget walking.

“What do you even like about him?” Seokjin asks in a cold voice. “Is he your ideal ‘type’ or some bullshit?”

You close your eyes, envisioning your ideal man. Tall and muscular. Large biceps but a small waist. Cute dimples and round cheeks and shiny eyes when he smiles. Long fingers with rounded nails that look beautiful adorned with jewellery, but the most beautiful when wrapped around your hips, your neck, and especially when inside your––

Four hard smacks in succession, two to each ass cheek. “I asked you a fucking question, didn’t I?” Seokjin asks coldly. When you tremble under him, he pauses. “Colour.”

You sniffle, brushing tears away. “Green.”

“You already took eight. You don’t have to take anymore if you don’t want to, you know that.” Seokjin reminds you, no longer angry. He actually sounds a bit guilty. He gently rubs over your ass, making you wince. “Sorry. I did too much this time, right?” He whispers, now rubbing your lower back in apology.

“I want more.” You tell him through your tears. You turn your head so you can look him in the eye. “I want as much as sir thinks I deserve.”

Seokjin considers it for a moment. Then, he chuckles. “There’s my girl.” He says softly, even though there’s nothing soft about how his hands come down on your ass.

He gives you four more, two to each ass cheek. By the time he’s done, you’re sobbing. It burns, it really does. But you like it like this, like being all his. Even if he’s smiling at some other woman while he’s working or even dating her, you like being just his in this moment. And because you’ve made him jealous too, Seokjin will definitely remind you of that fact tonight. Even if he doesn’t really believe it anymore.

Seokjin manhandles you onto the bed, making you lay down against his pillow. You hiss in pain but Seokjin is quick to kiss you. He does a great job of distracting you, kissing you deep and making you moan in his mouth. He only breaks away from the kiss to unbutton the shirt you’re wearing.

“So fucking dirty. Letting some asshole get his hands on what’s mine all because I left you alone for a few weeks.” Seokjin curses, pushing you further into the mattress as he lays on top of you. You gasp as he sucks hard hickeys on your neck, your collarbones, and the top of your chest. Seokjin takes special care to cover the two bruises you made with larger ones, pinning you down by the waist as you wriggle against him.

“S-Sir.” You whimper, but Seokjin keeps going lower. He even leaves hickeys on your breasts and on your ribcage, refusing to leave you unmarked anywhere. You’re sure you will have over a dozen on you tomorrow morning.

When he’s satisfied, Seokjin returns to your breasts. He is all tongue and teeth as he sucks at them until they’re both hard. You whine as he pinches them both hard afterwards. “You let some other guy do this to you? When only I can fucking work you up like this?” Seokjin demands, anger returning to his voice. He clamps one hand over your throat, not hard enough to block your breathing but enough to make your head spin. “Answer me, Y/N. Right fucking now.”

“S-Sorry, sir.” You answer, not really sure what you’re sorry for. You haven’t cheated on him, but his reaction makes you more sorry than if you had. You hadn’t known Seokjin could look at you with that kind of fire in his eyes. It’s different from other scenes, where Seokjin was turned on but carefully in control. Tonight, Seokjin is angry. But under it, there’s another emotion that shines just as brightly. Hurt. Seokjin is hurt by what he thinks you did.

Seokjin takes his hand off you. “You’re not sorry yet, princess. But you will be.” He warns.

Seokjin sinks lower, pressing kisses to your pubic bone and lower. He pulls your panties down and discards them. Then, Seokjin starts making new hickeys on the insides of your thighs without breaking eye contact.

When Seokjin finally pushes his middle finger into you, you’re half out of your mind and so wet it makes the insides of your thighs glisten. “Did he do this to you, princess?” Seokjin asks you, stretching you easily.

You shake your head, pushing your hips to get him to touch that spot. Seokjin grips your hip with one hand, nails digging into the skin as he holds you in place. The pain is what reminds you that he asked a question. “No! No one can do this to me.” You answer honestly, panting from the force of not coming. It would be so embarrassing to come from being fingered a little, and knowing Seokjin’s mood, he might not let you come the rest of the night if you come without permission.

Seokjin re-enters, two fingers this time. When you moan, he kisses one of the hickeys he made to cover your bruise. “That’s what I thought.” He says in a sing-song voice, mocking you. You grip his shoulders, grateful that Seokjin hadn’t tied you up as part of punishment. You dig your nails into the strong skin there, feeling him tense at how hard you do it. You don’t mean it as pay back or anything for him gripping your hip, you’re truly just that worked up tonight. But no matter his anger, Seokjin always checks on you. “Colour.”

“Green, green. Oh fuck Seokjin. Please can I come, please, please?” You beg, tipping your head back as tears roll out of them. As you clench around his fingers, Seokjin just chuckles and scissors you.

A few pumps later, he adds a third finger. “Do you think you deserve to come tonight?” He mocks you. “Look at how tight you are, I don’t even think you can take my cock tonight. That’s what happens when you fuck someone that isn’t as good as me, I guess.” Seokjin mocks you, rubbing his thumb against your clit to rile you up more.

“Ugh, I said I’m s-sorry! Sir, please.” You wriggle.

Seokjin smirks down at you. “You said it yourself, princess. ‘As much as sir thinks I deserve.’ And I think you deserve to be reminded who you fucking belong to, not to come. But if you beg really well, I might come in you. I bet you’d love to be bred by me after so long, stuffed full of my come like a dumb little slut.” Seokjin slows down, tightening his jaw again. “That is if it’s even special to you anymore. Assuming you don’t let him come in you too, of fucking course.” Seokjin punctuates each word with a hard thrust that has you scrambling for purchase on the bed sheets.

“I don’t, sir! I don’t! No one has except you.” You tell him. It’s true. You have been on birth control for years, but have never done it raw with any man until you met Seokjin. You had always been too afraid in case you missed your pill a day and wound up pregnant. But Seokjin had made you feel safer than any ex-boyfriend of yours had. Only a few months into dating, Seokjin made you feel safe enough to let him go raw, and never made you regret it. Hell, he even picked up your prescription for you when you worked late.

Seokjin’s fingers slip out of you. He pushes a stray hair back from your face, making you shiver as he gets some pre-come on your forehead. “And why’s that, princess?”

“I belong to you. I’m yours.”

You jolt in surprise as you feel the head of Seokjin’s cock press against your entrance. You grip his wide shoulders as he eases into you, but Seokjin pulls your hands off. He pins you down against the mattress, a hand to each wrist. “Correct.” He replies, before starting to move.

You can’t help the moans that fall from your lips with each of his movements. They’re not loud, actually the opposite. Seokjin’s punishment and teasing tired you out, so you can only let out soft moans and whines now. Seokjin pins you down, eyes pitch black and piercing in the dim light. There are no words needed for what Seokjin is doing right now. He’s trying to prove himself to you.

That only makes you feel more guilty. Even a simple nude while he was working would’ve riled Seokjin up, why did you have to make him think you cheated? In hindsight, you hadn’t been thinking straight. “I-I’m sorry.” You whisper as you look at Seokjin.

Seokjin looks away from you and down at your chest, at the darkening spots on your body. “Shut up.” He whispers back. His grip tightens on your wrists and he picks up the pace.

You’re getting close and you know Seokjin is, too. “S-Sir. Please.” You beg.

Seokjin pulls your arms up, taking both of your wrists in one hand and holding them away. You arch your back as the head of his cock rubs against your g-spot. “Sir!” You cry out. When Seokjin’s hips start to stutter, you finally lose your patience. “Fuck, Seokjin!”

Seokjin lets go of your wrists. One hand comes to grip your thigh hard, pushing it as far out as it can go. The other comes to rub at your clit. His pace picks up again, filling you up in a way that feels entirely different this time.

When you come, it feels like a flood of emotion. You tremble and clench around Seokjin, moaning his name and crying. When Seokjin comes, it’s with a deep moan and his fingernails digging into your skin, sure to leave marks tomorrow morning. You both know it, but you’re not upset at all. You have always liked the reminder that you’re his and only his.

Seokjin collapses on top of you as you both come down from your high. Seokjin pushes his bangs back from his forehead, wiping at the sweat on his face with one hand. He doesn’t look you in the eye. You try to kiss him, but he pulls away. He sits up, pulling out of you. Seokjin grabs tissues off the nightstand and wipes himself and you down gently.

“You can use the shower in the guest bedroom.” Seokjin says.

You grab his hand before he can go. “Why can’t I use your shower? We’ve showered together before.”

Seokjin pulls his hand away. “That was before you cheated on me, Y/N. I know we fucked tonight, but this is it. I’m not your boyfriend after tonight.”

Your heart sinks. “Seokjin. I didn’t actually cheat on you.”

That makes Seokjin look at you, eyes still dark but now sad. “Don’t lie to me now, Y/N. You told me clearly in your text that another guy made hickeys on you and that you were going to go back to him.”

You shake your head, taking his hands in yours. “I actually pinched myself. I only meant to make it look real and tease you, but I went too far. I’m sorry baby. I really am.”

Seokjin looks at you like he can’t believe his own ears. “You gave yourself bruises that look like hickeys just to make me mad?”

When you nod and look honest, Seokjin pulls you close. “Why?”

“I watched your newest interview.” You say.

A long moment passes and then Seokjin seems to get what you’re saying. “Were you jealous of me interacting with her?” Seokjin asks, surprised. When you pout he starts to laugh. He tips his head back and closes his eyes at how funny it is to him but it’s not funny to you. When you smack his chest lightly, he looks at you with a fond smile. He brushes your hair behind your ear. “Say it. Were you jealous?”

You bite your lip. Seokjin notices immediately you’re not finding this funny and grows serious. You look away from him. “I was jealous. But I was also insecure.”

“Insecure?” Seokjin repeats the word. “Why?”

You play with his hands. “Don’t know.” You mumble.

Seokjin cups your face and makes you look at him. “Be honest.” He tells you. “You know I like it when you’re honest the most, right?”

You chew your bottom lip. “I...I saw some stuff on Twitter. They said you two looked like a couple. And to be honest, you were kinda too friendly with her.”

Seokjin looks sad. “And that’s why you teased me? Even though you knew I’d think you were just playing and punish you?” You nod. Seokjin’s brows knit together. He pulls you into a tight hug. “I’m sorry baby. I should’ve thought more.”

You shake your head, but tears fall on Seokjin’s shoulder anyway. “I liked it. I always like it when we have sex like that. But I also wanted your attention.”

“You always have my attention.” Seokjin pulls back, cupping your face again. His eyes are wide and genuine. You love that the most about Seokjin; even though he’s an actor, he’s never lied to you. “Let’s take a shower.”

So you do. The two of you get in the shower together. Seokjin washes your chest and between your thighs for you, gentle as he touches the hickeys he made. You wash his back for him and his hair, giving him little kisses every now and then. You grab a spare pair of panties you left at his house and another one of his shirts.

When you get in bed, Seokjin turns you onto your back and applies lotion onto your ass. You wince at the burn of lotion on your sore spots. “Sorry baby. I got really angry thinking about you sleeping with someone else and lost my control.” Seokjin apologizes for the 1000th time.

“It’s okay. I wanted this.” You reply to him for the 1000th time. But still, Seokjin is really gentle with you.

“I only want you, okay?” You tell him when you lay on top of his chest later. “Even though I know after tonight, I don’t deserve you.”

Seokjin kisses your forehead. “Don’t ever say that baby. Of course you deserve me.”

You make yourself comfortable against him and he tucks the blankets in around both of you. “Do I?”

Seokjin rubs your back. “Someone like you deserves the best, Y/N. And naturally, that’s me, Kim Seokjin.” He ends jokingly.

You scoff but kiss his cheek anyway. “That’s true. My boyfriend is the best.”

Seokjin smiles at you lovingly. “I love you.”

Your eyes widen. Seokjin’s eyes widen too. “Shit. I mean, no. Well, no, I mean yes.” Seokjin stammers, ears turning pink. “Sorry, this is too quick right? Fuck, we haven’t even dated a year but I already said that.”

“I love you too.” You reply, feeling yourself blush too. It’s so odd how you’ve been entirely naked before him before but you feel more vulnerable now.

You and Seokjin smile at each other. “I must’ve saved the country in my past life to deserve you.” You whisper.

“That’s my line, baby.” Seokjin teases, kissing your lips sweetly. You melt into him, safe and comfortable. This is home.

[iammyownvariant]

Reader (Ghosts BBC, Mentioning of Alison/Mike and Alison/Thomas)

SUMMARY: You grew up in a wonderful big house full of ghosts. But why did you see them anyway? Reader Insert Series: BBC Ghosts AN: As I haven't the time to fully write out this idea, here's a shortened version of a prompt that has been playing inside my mind. Based on a post I viewed recently: I have always thought that if I'd been Alison, I'd be scared to death about getting pregnant or having a miscarriage and seeing that ghost child all the time. Now I could write something angsty about this, or something funny. I decided to go for a different route and wrote how it would be to be born in that household, with Alison and Mike as your mum and dad. (So no miscarriages or creepy things, just growing up with ghosts). Enjoy! PS. If anyone feels like picking up this idea or exploring elements of it, please do <3 -- -- Seeing ghosts was a normality to you. As you grew up, you saw them around the house and they were your friends. You saw them in school, saw them in the streets and basically everywhere you went. And you more than often became friends with them.

So this was how mum felt, hmm?

You could not say that you led a normal life. Seeing the ghosts and interacting with them wasn’t the oddest thing of all. No. The oddest thing you found, was something only revealed to you at a much later date, when you were already grown. But let’s cut back to when you were little.

You grew up in a wonderfully big home that your mum and dad had inherited by pure luck (or was it misfortune?). The house cost them everything and more than often people had wondered why they had started having kids during such a stressful period in their lives – because the home was still a bit of a wreck when you were born.

The house was large and wonderful and yours. You had never known any other place and you felt no need to ever move elsewhere. You loved it here. It was a certain love that made your mum and dad all the more determined to keep the place no matter what.

Apart from living in a fantasy-like building, your life was pretty normal.

Except for the ghosts.

The first time your parents noticed you saw them was when you were just a toddler and your father freaked out because you seemed to be talking to someone who wasn’t there. Your mum, being able to see them after a nearly-fatal accident, confirmed his fears though. You were playing with one of the ghosts that inhabited the house. Your parents thought it was a one off, until your sister was born four years later and she exhibited the same signs as you had.

Thus, the theory that seeing ghost was inheritable came into existence.

But as you had been seeing them since you were born, you held no fear of the inhabitants of the house. And there were a lot of them. It meant you were never alone. It was soothing in a way. Whenever there was something wrong or you felt sad or down, one of the ghosts was bound to cheer you up.

You especially loved Humphrey as a child. You loved his soothing voice and the tales he would tell when you couldn’t sleep. Truth to be told, you had a bit of a crush on the late Sir Humphrey Bone as a kid, thinking his face to be really pretty. So pretty, you often helped when his head and body were apart. You would go searching for another of the ghosts to pick up his head and put him back together whenever he lost it again. Though sometimes it would just be his head on your nightstand. Others might think this depravingly morbid, but it brought you a sense of safety, knowing he was there watching you. It chased away any bad dreams.

You often held sleepovers with Kitty. She was a lovely giggling young woman, and she loved to play hide and seek with you and your sister in the grand garden surrounding your home. The three of you would often giggle way into the night when either your mum would come to tell you to please go to sleep – or Robin joined in and did some of his caveman word games with the three of you – which made the evening all the better (no matter how often Kitty would exclaim that it was supposed to be a girls night only).

Having the ghosts around wasn’t always fun though. For instance, when you were a teenager and were playing dressing up and imagining all the boys who would swoon over you, only to see a head stick through your wall and telling you off. Auntie Fanny was a real pain sometimes, always talking about how you should be decent, how you should dress, how to hold your fork and knife during a dinner with guests. It was frustrating but she always managed to get on your nerves.

Your sister didn’t fare much better with her and suffered the same mouthiness of the former lady of the house. It didn’t help that the ghost woman still jumped out of a window in the midst of the night either. Your sister failed one of her exams once because she couldn’t focus on learning the material because Fanny Button kept her up each night with her screams. It was thanks to Thomas’ support that she was forced to focus on her schoolbooks and thanks to the other ghosts (and mum, who was pretty much threatening them to do as she said) to keep Auntie Fanny in check. In the end, your sister had changed back to a different room. The previous one she had occupied had been chosen by her because of the epic royal bathroom attached to it. Now she slept closer to yours again and took to using the shared bathroom without complaining. You didn’t mind, you liked having her close again.

Out of all the ghosts, you found the Captain to be the most tiresome as you were young. He was always drilling on about what you and the others should do. Always focusing on schedules that you should follow. Telling you off like you were a soldier.

Pat was way kinder, and often a bit too soft. You knew he often hung around your younger sister, because she was more outgoing than you were and he loved to be outside in nature. He helped her do all sorts of tricks, climb trees, shoot a bow and arrow – dangerous stuff even. But he taught her to do it responsibly, despite what you may expect of a man with an arrow lodged in his throat.

And then there was the one who frightened you like no other. Not even the plague citizens living in the cellar, who always kindly helped you with whatever issue you came to talk about. Yep, one of the ghosts scared you for a while: you usually tried to avoid Julian. As you were young, you thought he was an old man, wearing no pants, and he had a mean streak to him – jealousy you often found. He didn’t particularly seemed to like kids either, so you were fine with him going out of your way. As you grew older you realised Julian wasn’t actually as bad as you thought him to be. He even saved your life once or twice by pushing away or picking up a dangerous object that might have injured you otherwise. He was watching over you, like all the others were. And as you grew into a teenager and passed that sweet 16, you noticed a different gleam in his eyes. Julian changed. He became more gallant, more of a smooth talker when around you. But that behaviour ended quite abruptly, although the gleam of admiration never left his eyes. You wondered what had frightened him so to stop his advances on you. Whatever it was, you were grateful. Julian was not your type and never would be. (Later on you found out he had been challenged to a duel by Thomas who wanted to defend your honour, as child of the lovely Alison).

And then there was Jemima, she was the best friend of you and of your sister. As children she was just amazing to play with. First, she was older, and knew cool games you and your sibling had never heard of. Then, you grew to be the same age and she was the coolest girl you would ever know. And then, you grew older and she grew quieter. But you never ceased your habit of singing chilly songs with her.

You were a child, growing up between ghosts, and you felt safe between them. And though your father swore he could see them, most of his interactions with the house ghosts was initiated through you or your sister. He just didn’t possess the gift. But he was the greatest dad there ever lived. He loved doing stuff with you and your sister, going out, do fun things. He was a swell dad, filled to the brim with love for you and your sibling. He’d do anything to keep the two of you safe and happy and clothed and fed – even if things financially didn’t always go well for your family. You loved him to bits.

Your mum tried to warn you of the dangers of seeing ghosts. How those who could not see them would think it weird – would think you to be weird. You minded her words and sensibly, didn’t let anything show while in school. Even though, you were troubled with the ghost of a former teacher who kept sitting at a way too small child’s desk next to you and pester you throughout the lessons. You were glad when your mum told him off, some day after lessons. She had to sneak into the school with you. Oh boy, you had loved her firm voice, her confidence, and the fact that the ghost stuck to a different classroom from then on without coming near you again.

Your sister had a bit of a harder time. She let herself be distracted by the ghosts of a few children who had died in a school fire ages ago. While you had gotten away with explaining to them how you could not talk to them while others were around, your sister didn’t mind that rule though, and your parents struggled more than once with comments on how they should take your sister to see a doctor about this. Eventually, your sister learned, as she grew older. But more than often she would ignore what others thought of her and still communicate with the dead whilst other living beings were around.

But despite the fortune, or misfortune, of seeing ghosts, your life was pretty normal as you grew up. You loved all house ghosts for different reasons.

While Mary was easily one of your favourites, she was also a bit daft to the modern ways. Simple, might be a better word. She often promised to help you with your homework, but she never could attribute anything that you didn’t already know. So you often had to distract her with small tasks or tell her to hang out with Kitty or Robin instead.

And when Mary was gone it would be Thomas who would take over. Although he was easily distracted by art and snivelly poems, he would always try his best to focus and help you and your sister through each demeaning homework task. Sir Thomas Thorne was always nearby when you needed him. He had the tendency to sing songs to you as a baby, create old fashioned nursery rhymes when you were a toddler, play silly games with you as a child, motivate and guide you as a teenager.

In hindsight, you should have seen it coming. With all the care he held for you, with the warm tingling feeling it gave you whenever he was around. You should have known. And when you were a teenager and dated that ghost boy from two blocks away, it was Thomas who completely lost it and told you the boy would be no good for you, and that you deserved someone better. Someone more permanent. Someone alive.

Your mother and Thomas had a huge fight then – ("Someone more permanent than a ghost? That's rich coming from you!" your mum had shouted) all ghosts were listening in. But your dad was none the wiser. And so were you. Because you did not catch all references, and you did not understand each jab and insult thrown like a ping pong ball. And when your mum sat with her hands in her hair and Sir Thomas’ arm wrapped around her shoulder, you thought they had just made up. And then your father came in and he gave your mother solace. They hugged for a long time, and Thomas had just gone into the adjacent room. But that was all there was to it.

Of course it wasn’t though. Because your mother was strong. Darn strong. You loved it about her. The whole attitude she had, the air with which she wandered around the home and instructed the ghosts like she owned them. Your father said it hadn’t always been like that, that it had grown over time. In the beginning she had been ill-at ease, easily manipulated by the inhabitants of their home, had been often looked at funnily and ruined many a great business deal for talking or listening to the ghosts. She still did that – listen to them. She still embarrassed herself and your whole family along with it. Like that time you were at a beach party with family and friends and she had an entire conversation with a family of the 1960’s who were dead. Yeah, you’d rather not think back on that.

Or the one time one of she reported a crime to a dead officer.

Yeah.

But your mother was your hero. She was strong, fierce, and always stood up for you and your sister.

To find out a much deeper and darker truth then, about your family, was world shattering. And it was all because your sister had been in an accident and you came home to find Thomas in all states. And when you asked the other ghosts what had occurred they told you he was crying about his child. And that’s only when the pin dropped and you realised why this man was always working in your best interest and being so darn warm and kind for a person who was dead. Because you'd not missed the many times he showered your mother with affection. Or the way she would smile at him when he gave her another compliment. Or the way they would be just a little...too close. Could your sister be the child of a ghost? Impossible, right?

And you confronted your mum about it.

And she broke down.

Alison Cooper confessed to you, while your father was away at work, that she had been entangled with the ghost of Sir Thomas Thorne after a few heavy drinks and a way too fun party held at their home. Apparently, she had been incredibly drunk and had said things she otherwise wouldn’t have admitted. What happened should not have been possible by far. But Thomas had been able to actually feel her, and Alison had believed that no ghost could actually cause consequences with a human who was still alive. Perhaps her near-death experience had thrown something into the mix. We would never know. But Alison found herself pregnant after days spent without a touch by your dad, Mike. The first thought had been to terminate the pregnancy, but remembering the dove that still liked to terrorize their bedroom, Alison had grown scared. She realised she could not terminate the pregnancy or she might be faced with a ghost of her own baby. And you realised this was not your sister she was talking about. This was you.

So instead, Alison had pleaded Thomas to keep their secret (which he had done poorly and every ghost knew what had truly occurred, but luckily your dad could not interact with them), and your mum seduced your dad. They were already married, there were no contenders, your father believed you were theirs and never held a doubt. In hindsight, it explained your paleness- and the seeing of ghosts. It had been deemed the impossible, and for a long while, Alison thought and hoped that you were a child of Mike’s after all.

Mike took it all up really well, with you being what is called an accident. He was instantly smitten – as were all of the ghosts to be honest. Alison thought things would work our after all.

But then, when Mike wanted to have another kid, and though they tried, it took three years and a lot of desperation to admit to seeing a doctor. And then they were faced with the terrible truth that Mike wasn’t fertile at all. The news was delivered to your mum first, with Mike away and only the house ghosts listening in. It was a shock to all of them, mostly to Alison who had been pointed at the result by another ghost doctor. She managed to hide away the evidence, the true results, and together with newly found ghost friends she made at the hospital, fabricated a new lie. Mike was never to know that you could not possibly be his.

So instead, Alison was persuaded by Thomas and her undying love for Mike. He wanted another baby, she wanted them to be happy. Deal done. Thomas fathered a second ghost-seeing child with your mum. Your sister. The one who was recovering in hospital after a nasty car crash. (And luckily, she got out alive and safe and you got to hug her again tightly because no matter what, your sister would always be closest to you - all ghosts in spite).

So there you were, hearing your mother’s confession. The understanding dawning upon you that you did not see ghosts because of just your mum – but because you father was one. It all made so much sense. And it took a lot of strength to keep your mouth shut about it to Mike, your father.

Your real father, Thomas, you found, was understanding. And you were glad more than once that he could not interact with Mike. You had warned him that you would keep calling Mike dad, even if he wasn’t biologically. And Mike remained none the wiser. You still loved your non-biological dad as fiercely as you had before. You’d just glare a lot more in Thomas’ direction for a while.

In the end, you ended up marrying a young ‘living’ partner. You made sure that both Mike and Thomas were leading you down the aisle – even if Mike was never to know it. All Ghosts loved it, loved how you recognised Thomas to be your father. They also loved it how you never once dropped the truth on Mike or let him down. In your eyes, he would always remain on a pedestal as the perfect dad. It just so happened that you had two now.

As you somehow had expected, Alison died too young. An accident out of love, one of the ghosts had said. (She was furious at Thomas for many years to come, but she could not help but love him still.) During the years she was angry at Thomas, she tried to convey a message to Mike. She wanted him to know the truth, but he hadn’t understood her dying last breath, and he hadn’t understood her hauntings. ("It say's Thomas... dad? dad? Wait a minute, isn't Thomas one of the ghosts? Yeah, of course he is dead. Duh!") And he seemed delighted that she was still there, even as he started dating a new woman and ended up marrying her. (Alison was okay withit, but only after smashing a few vases and making that new woman's life a living hell). It was no wonder your dad wanted to move elsewhere quite soon after his second marriage. I mean, living with your deceased wife and your new crumpit was a bit weird, right? Your dad, Mike, handed the house to you and your sister. She chose not to stay and lived her live elsewhere, visiting occassionally, while Mike and his new wife settled somewhere close by. You remained in the huge mansion with your husband and your children, enjoying the way the ghosts watched over them as they had watched over you, feeling safe and happy. Because with these ghosts you were at home.

[fiction-boys-rule]

Imagine...being single on Valentines Day and the Leverage team set you up on a date with Eliot.

Pairing: Eliot/(Y/N)

Warnings: alcohol consumption, fluff

Word Count: 4,615

Second post this week, I’m on a roll! Been feeling Eliot very much, and once this idea came into my head, I had to write it. Happy Valentines Day, and remember you can celebrate any and all forms of love. Hope you enjoy :)

As you open the door, you are blinded with red. Literally. Bright red decorations hanging across the ceiling, roses on every blank surface, balloons taking up the space the furniture doesn’t, and varied pastries and snacks themed with pink or red. 

“What the hell?” You mumble, walking slowly into the apartment. 

You close the door softly and run your fingertips over the rose petals of a bouquet. Then it hits you. 

Today’s the 14th. February. Valentine's Day. Oh no.

You should have stayed home instead of offering to work the pub today. 

’Why did you have to be so nice? Did Nate even say thank you?’ You reprimand yourself. 

“Ah, finally, you’re here.” Sophie says.

You turn and see her standing by the couch, wearing a stunning red dress and gazing at you with an eager look. You’re getting a bad feeling about whatever is going on. 

“Hi?”

“I apologize for Parker’s antics. She seems to have taken advantage of Nate’s approval. This is all a bit over the top, isn’t it?”

You stare at her with what must be a confused and lost look because she just smiles and motions for you to sit on the couch. You walk over reluctantly and sit, fidgeting uncomfortably. She sits and smiles, taking your hand in hers.

“I am very proud of who you have become while being with us. We don’t say if often, but we do appreciate you. Nate also appreciates you. Though he can’t seem to get it through his thick skull how much he needs you. I trust you very much and I know you won’t let me down. You look lovely today, by the way.”

You look down after trying to process her vague statements and suddenly curse yourself for listening to stupid Nate’s ‘recommendation/mandatory orders’.

‘Wear red. Go with the theme of today.’, his text had read.

You hadn’t really known what he had meant and since you weren’t exactly one to look forward to this holiday, the ‘theme’ he had mentioned had gone completely over your head. You had picked a simple dark red dress that had your specific likings, down to the length and skin it showed that made you infinitely comfortable and confident in it. It even has pockets!

“Uh, thanks? You look good too. But I’m kind of confused with-”

“Don’t you worry, darling. You will do great. I know you will. Now all you have to do is trust the process and be true to yourself. Be confident in the way I know you are. Don’t hold back and be honest about your feelings. Fear holds us back. Don’t let it control you.”

“Okay? But Sophie-”

“Ah ah, it will be fine. All will be explained soon enough. Don’t let me down, darling.”

She kisses your cheek and suddenly stands. You try to walk but she holds a finger up as she walks to the door. She opens it and the rest of the team are standing on the other side. They walk in, staring at you. 

‘What the hell is going on?’ you think.

Parker and Hardison have curious looks on their faces and Nate looks smug as ever.

“We’re all going out tonight on our own little adventures as pairs but don’t worry, you’re not missing out on anything. We’re all counting on you.”

“Sophie, what the hell-”

“Hardison, when I told you to grab a box, it wasn’t a suggestion!”

You hear Eliot yelling before he comes into view. He stops walking and glances around the room.

“You weren’t kidding about the party. Where are you going?”

He looks over at the four of them and they just smirk at him. It all happens so quick. Parker and Hardison grab him, pulling him into the apartment. He struggles to resist with the boxes in his hand. All of a sudden, the door is closed and a lock clicks. 

“First drawer on the left below the TV!” Parker yells.

You hear them burst into laughter and their footsteps fade.

Eliot stares at the door a moment before turning back to you. His face matches your thoughts: ‘What the hell just happened?’

“Did you have anythin’ to do with this?” he grumbles, setting the box down.

“No! I was just supposed to come for my shift today but then Nate told me to come upstairs first. What did they tell you?”

“They just said there was a mandatory team meeting today and to bring boxes in from the van. What the hell is goin’ on?”

You walk over to the TV and open the drawer Parker had mentioned. Eliot walks over and you see an envelope with hearts all over it addressed to Eliot and you. Well, at least that’s what you think it means. It only says: To the Two Lovebirds, Love Sophie & Parker.

You frown over at Eliot and find him giving you the same look.

“I don’t have the patience for their little jokes today, man.” he grumbles, going and sitting on the couch.

You open the envelope and start reading the letter inside.

“You both must be very confused about what’s going on, but trust all will be explained soon. We have big plans for you both today and wish you well on your journey of love. Don’t let us down.”

“Are they playin’ cupid or somethin’?”

“Um, I think so. It says we have to stay the whole day in here and if we try to escape we’ll face the consequences.”

“What the hell is this? I ain’t a hostage!”

“Don’t try to break the door down. If you do, you’ll owe Hardison a new van because that’s how much that high security door cost. We are watching your every move, so don’t do anything you don’t want us to see. We can hear and see everything. Have fun and if you succeed, feelings will be revealed and a happy ending will be your reward.”

“Happy ending?”

You suddenly realize what Sophie means and your stomach drops. Why did you ever tell her about your stupid crush on Eliot? Why is she so confident he’ll like you back? She is literally going to make you be so embarrassed and get rejected in the worst way possible: being stuck in an apartment with him and working with him. You could strangle her right now.

“Um, Eliot?”

“Man, I just wanted a cold beer today and to maybe cook a nice meal.”

“Eliot?”

“I’m goin’ to kill Hardison when I see him. I’m goin’ to hit him so hard his ancestors hurt!”

“Um, Eliot?”

“What?”

“I think we just got set up on a date by the team.”

Two Weeks Earlier…

“Really?” Parker exclaims.

“I’m telling you, it’s a great idea. They both like each other, we will just push the natural cycle of love a little faster. Who are we to get in the way of love?”

“What are you two up to now?” Nate grumbles, walking into the apartment.

“Do you think Eliot likes Y/N?” Parker asks.

Nate stops walking and almost chokes on his drink.

“What?”

“Oh come on, Nate. Haven’t you seen the way he looks at her? How he treats her? She’s the only woman in his world. But they’re both stubborn and afraid to make a move. I just want to move it along.”

“Well, what if they don’t? You can’t be sure-”

“Well I know she does. But you know her. She’s never going to tell him. We have to do something, Nate.”

“Sophie, can you just take a back seat for once? Let the man build up the courage. I mean come on, we never wanted dating to be a thing in the team.”

“Yeah and look what happened.” Hardison mumbles, tinkering with his new system.

Nate rubs his face, sitting down.

“Unplanned things happen. Look, maybe they like being single, or they aren’t ready-”

“Well, why don’t we find out?” Sophie interrupts.

“What? How? Eliot is never going to tell you.”

“Well, I know Y/N has feelings for him. I also know he would never lie to her.”

“Here we go.” Nate mumbles, leaning back on the couch with an annoyed look on his face.

“We cannot let both of them be single and unacquainted with their love for each other! That is a tragedy! We have to do something! Aren’t we their friends?”

“And how would we do that?” Hardison mumbles.

“What do we get out of it, Sophie? Another couple in the team and more risk. Maybe Eliot and her losing their focus. I can’t have that. We can’t have that.”

“A bet, perhaps?” Sophie smiles.

“A bet?” Hardison asks.

“That way we all have something to gain from this.”

Nate grumbles, shaking his head.

“Parker and me will bet on their love succeeding.” Sophie says.

“I am very confident in this little scheme of yours failing.” Nate says.

“Hardison?”

“I'm going to go with Nate for this one. Eliot doesn’t seem like the type to hold back his stupid charm.”Hardison says.

“Alright. What are each of you willing to lose as punishment for losing the bet?”

“I’ve always wanted to see what you store in that little storage unit of yours.” Nate says.

“My prized possessions?”

“Yeah, and if you lose, Hardison and me get to each take five things from it.”

“Five?” Sophie exclaims.

“If you’re that confident in the power of love.” Nate says.

“Fine. Alright, I can do that. What about you, Parker?”

“I think she shouldn’t be allowed to sleep with her bunny for a month.” Hardison smirks.

“A month? Without my bunny?” Parker whines.

“Or any other stuffed animal you have.”

“Trust the process, Parker.” Sophie mumbles to her.

She looks over to her and sighs, nodding reluctantly.

Hardison smirks, continuing his tinkering.

Parker looks at his system and smirks evilly, “I want to be able to play games on your new system for a month.”

He whips around and glares at her.

“What? On the new system? This took me six months to make!”

“Well, you’re so confident, right?” Sophie says.

He looks between them, panicking.

“But, but I just-”

“Are you going to do it or not?”

He sighs, looking back at his system.

“Fine. But can there be a time limit per day? It overheats, and-”

“Fine, two hours.” Sophie says, smiling at a frustrated Hardison.

“Fine! Fine. But if you break it-”

“What about you, Nate?” Sophie and the rest of them look over at him. 

“He has to stop drinking for a month!” Parker yells.

“A month?! That’s ridiculous-” Nate protests.

“Oh come on, you’re the one who doesn’t think it will work.” Hardison says.

Nate looks between them before sighing and standing.

“This is ridiculous. A month. A whole month. Alright, okay. You’ve got your deal.”

They all laugh.

“Well, I see many benefits to this little bet.” Sophie says.

“I get to see what you hide away. I need more decoration, anyway. And I think you have great taste, Sophie.” Hardison says.

“I get to play video games and annoy Hardison!” Parker yells cheerily.

“I get to see the beginnings of love.” Sophie says.

“And sober Nate.” Hardison says.

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Parker asks. 

Nate grumbles incoherently, opening another bottle and serving himself.

“Oh darling, I forgot to mention that to set the mood, I’m going to have to get decorations, and their favorite meals and pastries.”

“Cake!” Parker yells.

“Yes, and lots of roses, and-”

“Just use my card.” Nate grumbles before slamming his office door shut.

They all burst into laughter, their new plan ready to be set into motion.

Present Time

“I can’t believe this.” you mumble, sitting on the couch next to Eliot.

Part of you feels betrayed by Sophie, but the other part of you feels strangely anxious and excited. She has to have some sort of confidence in him having some sort of interest in you. Right?

“Alright, so now what? We just stay in here all day?” Eliot protests.

“First activity of the day, preparing a meal. Who can nurture love when they are on an empty stomach? Using the ingredients in the fridge provided, prepare a meal to enjoy together and get to know each other more.”

“They better have gotten good stuff and not left a bunch of crap to cook with.”

“Well, at least you get to cook your nice meal?” you ask nervously.

Eliot looks over at you, smiling slightly.

“I guess. And I’ll be honest, you’re the person I’d rather be locked in an apartment with instead of any of the others.”

“They can hear you, you know.”

“I know.” he grumbles.

You laugh, smiling.

“Well, we might as well make the best of our time here. Not like we’re going anywhere. I hope you didn’t have a date planned for later today.” you joke.

“I did, actually.” Eliot says, standing.

Your heart skips a beat and your smile falters. Of course he did. Why were you stupid enough to think he would confess his feelings right away?

“With my couch and a nice cold beer. Can’t get much better than that. Come on. Let’s see what crap they left us.” 

He walks to the kitchen and your smile returns. You walk over and sit on a stool, reading again.

“Before starting, look in a box located to the right of the fridge. In there, you will find two necessary things needed for your cooking.”

You look up from the paper, seeing Eliot looking with disgust at two pink aprons, filled with bright red hearts. One says ‘Hers’, and the other says ‘His’, with arrows pointing at each other. You can’t help but burst out laughing, seeing Sophie’s ridiculous ideas.

“Do we really have to wear these?” he grumbles.

“Yes, unless you want to see what kind of ‘consequences’ they have in mind.”

You take one, putting it on and smiling at Eliot’s obvious level of discomfort.

“Next, begin your cooking and remember, food is best when made and served with love.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Eliot opens the fridge and soon forms an idea for a meal. 

You are chopping up vegetables for a salad and your eyes wander over to him as he delicately cuts and cooks the rest of the food. His eyes are meticulous and hands precise. He obviously loves cooking and is great at it.

“Do you cook much?” he suddenly asks.

You continue cutting.

“No, not much. No one ever taught me. You’d be the first. What-”

His arms surround you and his hands go over yours.

“Hold it like this. Less chance of cuttin’ yourself and it’ll be done faster.”

“Oh, okay.” you whisper, following his directions. 

His body warmth comforts your back and you hear low sounds of approval as he watches you do what he told you.

“Good girl.” he praises before going back to the other side of the counter.

Butterflies form in your stomach and you almost cut yourself.

‘Get a hold of yourself, Y/N.’ you think.

Afterwards, he leads you to the very decorated dining table and makes you sit. He sets a bottle of wine down and serves you. He goes back over and serves two plates and brings them over. You almost laugh at the sight of him wearing the apron. He sits down and you mumble a ‘thanks’ before taking a sip of water. He smiles at you and motions for you to take a bite. You do, and you can’t help but nod your head vigorously and have another bite.

“This is so good, Eliot. Oh my gosh.”

“It’s because you helped.”

“Oh, please.” 

You both clink your glasses and have a sip of wine, eating in comfortable silence. 

“I didn’t get to uh, tell you before. You know, with all this stuff. You look good today, Y/N.”

You blush, looking down and hiding your face with your glass but not drinking anything. After a moment, you reluctantly meet his eyes again.

“Uh, thank you. You do too, by the way.”

He smiles and your heart beats faster. After you have eaten and cleaned the kitchen, you grab the paper again. Eliot rips rather hastily at his apron and throws it on a chair. You giggle and watch as he rolls his eyes. You take your apron off too and run a hand through your hair. You sit on the couch and start reading.

“Hopefully your meal has satisfied part of your inner hunger. Now, it is time to play a game. If you tell the truth, there will be no punishment. But if you do not, a punishment awaits. Grab the box below the bar and look in the box for further instruction.”

Eliot grabs it and walks over, sitting beside you. You open it and grab the paper on the top.

“Time for a drinking game. There will be a series of questions you will be asked from a stack of cards labeled with each of your names. Ask the person the question and if they don’t wish to answer, then they have to take a shot.”

You look away from the paper and see the cards set out on the table with a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses.

“Not my drink of choice, but I’m guessin’ that’s the point.”

“Before you start, there are two accessories needed to play this game. Look in the bottom of the box and once you have put them on, you can start.”

Eliot pulls out two red headbands with bright pink hearts at the top. You laugh loudly, seeing as Eliot’s face scrunches up as he stares at them in his hands.

“I ain’t puttin’ this damn thing on.”

“Oh come on, Eliot! The faster we do this, the faster we can leave! What’s the point of just sitting around and doing nothing? Let’s have some fun. Liven up your wardrobe a little bit.”

“No way in hell.”

“Eliot, do it for me? Please?”

His eyes stare at you with a curious look in them. He is reluctant, but eventually he gives in and puts it on. You try not to laugh at him again as you put yours on.

“There. Matching!” you say happily.

“You look cute, I just look stupid.” he groans.

You blush at his compliment and giggle. He rolls his eyes and hands you your stack of cards.

“Let’s just start.” he mumbles.

The questions start off pretty innocently and at one point, you’re wondering what the whole point was of this game. But suddenly, you’re reminded of Sophie’s wit.

“Have you ever had a crush on a colleague?” Eliot asks.

You blush and quickly look over at your shot glass.

“You’re gonna chicken out now?” he teases.

“No! Okay um, yes.”

“When?”

“It doesn't ask anything besides yes or no! You’re cheating!”

Eliot laughs, making you glare playfully at him.

“Okay, you go next.” he says, taking a drink of his beer.

“Okay, um. What kind of underwear do you wear?”

You burst out laughing as Eliot coughs.

“Are you gonna take a drink?” you ask shyly.

“What, you really want me to give you and the cameras a show? I ain’t lettin’ Hardison see anythin’. He’s already seein’ me wear this stupid thing on my head.”

“Yeah, I think Parker wrote that one.”

Eliot serves his shot and drinks it, grimacing slightly.

“Okay, you next.”

He takes a card and looks between it and you a few times. He clears his throat.

“Uh, what does your dream first date look like?”

You are taken aback by the question and you actually start thinking about it for the first time in a while. Dating hasn’t been a priority for you, especially lately. 

“Well, I like quality time. So going out to eat, or taking a walk somewhere. Showing them something I really like, like my favorite film or talking to them about my favorite book. I think a night in would also be really nice.”

You look up and his eyes have a soft look in them. He smiles slightly and clears his throat as he looks away and sets the card down.

‘Damn it Sophie, your plan is working.’

“Okay, next. What’s the dirtiest text you’ve ever sent?”

You both burst out laughing at the change of mood. He shakes his head and genuinely looks embarrassed.

“No, absolutely not. Not goin’ there. Give me the damn bottle.”

You are still laughing as he takes the shot.

“Wow, not even a hint. Was it really that dirty?”

“Next question. What don’t you like about me?”

“Nothing.” you answer quickly, watching as his eyes snap up to yours. You curse yourself as you realize you let your thoughts get the best of you.

“Well, um. I mean, I can’t think of anything. Right now. Um, I don’t know you that well, I don’t think.”

He nods and sets the card down. Shit. You didn’t mean to offend him.

“Sorry. I think that’s the shot talking.”

“Yeah, you’ve only had one.”

You both laugh and you appreciate how it lifts the mood of the room.

“Alright. Um, would you ever kiss me?”

Eliot looks at you, a small look of discomfort on his face. His eyes soften, gazing at you.

“Are you going to drink? You can, you know.”

You laugh lightly to fill the uncomfortable silence in the room.

“Yeah, I would.”

“You would?” your heart starts beating faster.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I would.”

You stare at him, starting to smile.

“I think that’s the tequila talking for you.” you smirk.

“I don’t know, maybe.”

You both smile and you look down only to find that your cards are finished.

“Is that it?”

“Guess so. About time. Don’t know how many more shots or damn questions I could handle.”

“Yeah, I know. You’re getting pretty red, Spencer.”

He glares over at you as you bite your lip and hold back a smile. You grab the paper again.

“Congratulations on getting to know each other better. Now there is one last stage of today’s date. In a box in the bathroom, you’ll find accessories to use for your move night. You can eat the snacks throughout the apartment. Enjoy.”

Eliot stands and comes back with a box. You open it and the laughter makes its way out of you before you can stop it. Eliot frowns at you before he looks inside and he suddenly sighs and puts his face in his hands.

“Now you have found your matching onesies for tonight’s movie night. Enjoy your snacks and we hope you are comfortable. Again, we can watch you with the cameras so keep it PG-13.”

You laugh again as you pull them out. Sophie has picked one of your favorite animals and Eliot got a dinosaur onesie.

“Well, let’s go put these on, I guess.”

“They’re lucky I’ve been drinkin’ enough for this.” he grumbles before getting up and taking his onesie with him.

A few minutes later and you have both changed and picked a movie to watch together. All the snacks are on the coffee table and more pillows have been added to the couch. You don’t remember doing that.

“Do you think we’re livin’ up to their expectations?”

He looks funny holding his beer bottle with the top of the onesie over his head. He looks cute. How does he look cute? Oh gosh. You just shrug.

“Maybe. But we’re still here, so I guess.”

He nods slowly and takes another drink of his beer. 

You shiver as the room gets colder and cuddle closer into the pillows. Eliot notices and watches as you struggle to find warmth.

“Damn Hardison must have turned the air conditionin’ on.” he grumbles.

You glare at the cameras, knowing what they’re up to.

“Here.” Eliot hands you a shot and you frown over at him.

“It’ll warm you up. Plus, it’s no fair I’m more buzzed than you are.”

You roll your eyes but take the shot anyway. You clear your throat and he takes it from you.

“Come ‘ere.” he grumbles, patting the spot next to him on the couch.

“You do know what they’re doing, right?”

“Are you cold or not?” he asks, looking lazily over at you.

Sighing, you make your way over and you tense as his hand surrounds your shoulders. He finishes his beer and lays back again. You start the movie and find comfort in his warmth. He pulls a blanket over you and hands you a bag of your favorite snack.

“How-”

“Movie’s startin’ sweetheart.”

You smile and appreciate his thoughtfulness. After the movie is done, several empty bags and containers take up the coffee table. You both have a short discussion about the movie before you fall into silence again.

You glance at your phone, “Damn, it’s almost midnight.”

As if on cue, you yawn and look back at Eliot.

“You know, I never thought I would actually enjoy today. But it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Even if I had to wear these stupid things.”

You laugh and nod.

“Yeah, I had a great time. I hadn’t really talked one on one with you before. It was nice. Thank you for cooking. Thanks for not running out of here, too.”

You both laugh and his gaze turns serious.

“You know, I was bein’ serious about what I told you. I know Sophie isn’t one to do these things without a good reason to.”

He doesn’t have to tell you what he’s talking about for you to know.

“I know.”

His hand is on your thigh and you bite your lip.

“The question is would you?” he mumbles slowly. 

You only take a second to think before you gather all the courage inside of you and respond. All the months of you keeping your secrets and feelings inside suddenly come spilling out in one word.

“Yes.”

Eliot slowly leans forward. His eyes glance down to your lips and you both close your eyes as he gently kisses you. Your hand goes to his neck as his other hand pulls you closer. You’re so close to each other, and it’s better than you could have imagined. He pulls away and smiles down at you. 

“Never thought I would do it like this, but I’m still glad I did. I might not kill Hardison, after all.”

You both laugh softly before he kisses you again, even more gently. Eventually, you both pull away and end up falling asleep together in each other’s arms. In his embrace, it feels as though nothing can beat the feeling. You wonder why the hell you waited so long to make a move. You thought you would strangle Sophie after this little stunt of hers. But now all you want to do is hug her.

Unbeknownst to you, the rest of the team has been in the van for the past hour watching the developments.

“My system. My poor system! I’m sorry, baby!” Hardison cries out, leaning his head on the desk.

They all roll their eyes. Parker cheers and claps her hands, laughing.

“I promise I’ll take good care of it. What kind of games can I play?” she asks eagerly.

Sophie smirks over at Nate. He slowly looks over at her, a look of disappointment on his face.

“I hope you liked your gift.” she says.

“You bought me a bottle of whiskey.”

“I know, darling. And I hope you absolutely love it.”

Nate groans, leaning back and cursing why he ever thought this was a good idea.

Sophie had stolen love all right, and Nate had secretly never been prouder.

[hamsterboos]

Have We Met Before?

This is my last entry for Rowaelin month and it's my favorite one out of all of them. I'm really proud of this one, so I hope everyone enjoys it. Thank you to the admin group for holding Rowaelin month!

Song this is based off of is Eric Nam and Sarah Barrios' Have We Met Before

cw: kind of has character death but also not

Word Count: 1821 Read on AO3 Rowaelin Month Masterlist

Day 29 of Rowaelin Month Prompt: A work based off a song

~~~~~~

Aelin was exhausted, and as she sat down in the local café in her new neighborhood, she finally felt some semblance of peace. She had just moved to Doranelle due to an incredible job offer in one of the best publishing houses in this side of the world, and Aelin would be an idiot if she didn’t take it. Granted, she was now farther away from her cousin and her best friend, but she’d deal with anything if it meant working with some of her favorite authors. Packing up everything and moving into a new apartment was hard and tiring enough, but it was even worse with the strange, vivid dreams she’d been getting ever since moving into the apartment.

She moved a hand to rub at her collarbone, a sudden ache passing through the area as she remembered the dream - that was practically a nightmare, if she were being honest - where she had been slashed against that area with a knife before she had woken up with a strange sensation of missing someone along with the deep heartache that followed it.

It felt more like a memory, but that couldn’t be possible.

Shaking off the weird feeling in her gut, she tried to focus on the open word document on her laptop screen. This was the perfect opportunity to drink some coffee, have some great pastries, and get some editing done, and yet, even after nearly half of an hour of working, her mind kept drifting off to the dream.

Sighing, Aelin looked up and was surprised to find a man sharing the coffee table with her. The table was fairly large, big enough to seat four people comfortably, and she hadn’t even noticed when the man had chosen to sit diagonally across from her. She didn’t really mind, but the strange feeling overcame her again as she took him in.

He had silver hair, and his eyes were focused on the book in his hands, and he was fairly built if the tight shirt showing off his pecs were any indication. Under normal circumstances, Aelin would’ve been more than happy to start up a conversation with him — considering how handsome he was and the fact that he was a reader — to try to get to know him more, but as she watched him take a sip of his black coffee, she was astonished that she felt like she already knew him.

But how? Aelin’s brow furrowed as she contemplated where she could’ve possibly seen him. She’d just moved to the country — there was no way she knew anyone already that wasn’t working with her. He was a stranger, and yet the more she looked at him, the closer she felt to him.

It felt like déjà vu, and as the man looked up to glance around the room, his strikingly green eyes reminded her of the eyes she had seen in her dreams. Once they landed on her face, their eyes meeting and causing an undercurrent of electricity to pass through her, it was as though all the breath had been knocked out of her.

Aelin swore she had seen those eyes before, in her dreams no less, but that was impossible. She’d never seen this man before.

It couldn’t be, and yet…

~~~

“Come on, Aelin,” he teased, his green eyes sparkling with mischief. “It’s one dance.” They were sitting on the stairs of her apartment building, and the streets were filled with music. It was the second anniversary of Terrasen becoming an independent kingdom, and the celebrations were going on in full-force. Aelin loved the happy and carefree atmosphere that the music blasting through the streets would bring about, but unfortunately, if she didn’t finish writing down her thoughts on the uprising rebellion against the current regime for Doranelle Daily, then she would just become “another one of those useless women” that her boss, Arobynn, loved to harass.

“Yes, and then one dance turns into five,” she retorted, but without any of her usual snark. “I need to finish this article for tomorrow.” Aelin held up her notebook for emphasis, showing off her unfinished sentence.

“Oh, come on, darling,” her boyfriend continued pestering, pushing her notebook back into her lap and leaning in for a quick kiss that she let him have.

“Honey, let me finish this, and then I promise we will have your dance.”

He looked absolutely petulant for a moment, his nose scrunching up in annoyance, and she reached out to ruffle his beautifully silver hair with a laugh.

“Aelin!” he protested, reaching up to push the wayward strands back down. She simply grinned at him and pecked him quickly before going back to her notebook. She heard him sigh, and she knew then that she had won him over. Her boyfriend got comfortable by wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and settling his chin on her shoulder. Aelin pressed back up into his arms, content and happy with her life.

Until, of course, everything went up in flames.

~~~

Rowan didn’t know what possessed him to sit down at a table where there was already someone sitting there, but he felt compelled to be by the woman with the blonde hair that seemed exactly like the shade of blonde that was plaguing his dreams.

He sat down on the other side of her, diagonal from her so he wouldn’t be directly in her line of sight. She seemed to be typing away, hard at work, and he decided that he would instead just focus on his book. He came out today to get some fresh air, clear his mind after the strange dreams he’d started having every night for almost a week, and that’s exactly what he intended to do.

Instead, he spent the next half hour reading the same two pages, his eyes mindlessly passing over the words, and yet he didn’t actually comprehend any of them.

His eyes kept drifting up, roaming around the room as he looked at the café without really looking, before they just ended back on the woman sitting so close, yet so far.

As he watched her type away on her laptop, Rowan felt as though this quiet, yet stange, comfort he felt around her was familiar, like he had lived through this exact moment before. He watched as she blindly picked up what looked like a sweet latte, if the amount of whipped cream on top was any indication, and then she took a bite of an apple turnover.

Yet, there was no way he had. The woman was an utter stranger — albeit, a beautiful one — and that was that. Rowan had simply lost his mind. There was no other explanation.

He directed his attention back to his book in a last ditch attempt to make some progress before letting out a frustrated sigh as he gave up again. Rowan looked back up at the bustling cafe and then at the woman, and he was surprised to find that she was looking right at him.

His eyes met her blue ones, and it could not be a coincidence that the blue eyes that he seemed to love in his dreams were the same ones that this woman had, down to the golden ring surrounding them.

~~~

They were sitting in their favorite local café, a quiet serenity surrounding them. Rowan didn’t need to be constantly talking to his girlfriend to just be happy and content with her. It was her presence that just put his mind at rest.

She was drinking an intensely sweetened milk tea, and he had just opted for a simple black tea while the two shared an apple turnover. It was one of the few pastries the two had ever agreed on, and they always opted to order one whenever they went out. Money was tight between the two of them, but they made it work to at least always be able to splurge once in a while.

Rowan looked up from his own book and smiled at the sight of his girlfriend furiously writing in her notebook, working on yet another article for Doranelle Daily. Her hair seemed to be getting in her eyes, and instead of tying it up, she kept blowing it out of her face to the point where Rowan couldn’t hold in his chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

“You could just tie up your hair,” he responded, laughter still clear in his voice. She looked up at him, her gorgeous blue eyes narrowed towards him.

“Oh, so now my suffering is funny to you?”

“Darling,” he spoke, leaning in closer to her from across the table, “you’re just lazy.”

“Rude,” she scoffed, but she took the hair tie off her wrist to tie up her hair, anyway.

“See? It wasn’t so hard to listen to me.”

“You could try to be a little less annoying.”

“You wouldn’t love me the same.”

“I would love to have some peace and quiet right about now.”

“We could just go home,” he innocently offered.

“So you can distract me from work again? No, thank you.”

Rowan’s jaw fell open slightly out of indignation before he scowled, and that caused a giggle to burst out of her. Rowan let go of his scowl and smiled as well.

This was what he loved, what he cherished.

Until, of course, he lost it all.

~~~

The two estranged lovers watched one another, surprise written clearly over their faces. The lack of recognition between the two was overshadowed by the memories in their dreams. The love bursting in their chest, mingled with the pain of their unwanted separation burned through them, so maybe they would say that the dreams were more like nightmares.

~~~

It was a “wrong time, wrong place” type situation. Nothing more.

The couple were walking down an alley, hand in hand, happily chatting, only to be attacked by rebels, trying to rob them in the dimming sunlight.

The female tried screaming for help when the male pushed her back, trying to protect her as he fought back against the two rebels.

It wasn’t enough.

A third rebel appeared behind the female, slashing a knife across her collarbone, causing a shriek of pain to escape her. Her screams mingled with the male’s as he tried to fight towards her, but a rebel slashed him across his bicep.

The couple was abandoned in the alley only when they had been removed of any jewelry and money, instead left with slashes and stab wounds that had them bleeding out on the ground. They stumbled into each other’s arms, clinging to their love while they would not be able to cling to life for much longer.

Their last words were declarations of love.

~~~

With those last words ringing through their minds, they each felt a pull towards one another, yet she was the one who was able to utter one sentence.

“Have we met before?”

[tonystarkhasaheart]

You Know Who I am

Tony Stark X Reader

Word Count: 2,741

Summary: Y/N a stripper who has a day job at Stark Industries and her boss pays her a pretty generous visit

Author's Note: Even though this is my first fanfic it will have 4 parts, hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Part 2 is on it's way soon.

I look up at myself in the mirror, eyes heavy from the weight of my lashes, dark, smokey.. yet sensual. Lips plump and red, a deep red nothing too bright.

I take a moment to glance at the room around me, girls in and out the velvet curtain, changing clothes, spraying perfume and adding last-minute glitter. I look at my phone to check the time 12:46am.

“Hot date tonight?” I hear from my left, I don’t need to turn to see who it is, most of the girls here don’t talk to me, except for Siren. Not her real name of course, but I guess when you have a real-life outside of this you don’t want anyone to know it. I don’t blame her.

I set my phone down and look at her with a gentle smile and turn to the bag I keep under my station between rounds, pulling out my book to read. I can feel Siren’s breathe over my shoulder. “Just some light reading?” She asks.

I laugh lightly “The lightest I’ve read in a while actually.” I smile to myself as I run my fingers over the title on the cover of Quantum Physics and Theories of the Mind.

“Don’t want to spoil it for you” she said scooting back a bit with her hands up feigning surrender.

I smile again, I forgot I actually like her sense of humor “It’s okay,” I look up from the cover, “I already know the ending.”

Before any more words can be exchanged, I hear my stage name being called by the house mom. “Bambi, you’re up sweets!”

“Thank you, Cassandra!” I place my book back in its place and grab my money bag turning to Siren one last time, “Why don’t we ever hang out, outside of here?”

“Because you’re too busy being a smart ass in the real world,” Siren says with a smile.

I wink at her before walking through the velvet curtains where it is almost pitch black, except for the neon lights circulating the room and spotlights on the main stage. I scan the crowd as I listen to my heels click on my way up to the DJ booth. A number of regulars and just as many new faces but the back of one man’s head stood out. I couldn’t quite place it at the quick glance that I got, but he was sitting front and center so it wouldn’t be long before I figured it out.

A dancer by the name of Scarlett was finishing up and I gave the DJ my song. He looked and me and shook his head laughing “You never fail to surprise me” I smile and look back at the stage to see Scarlett doing her best and receiving money from plenty of customers, but she was focused on one, and he looked like he couldn’t care less. Front and center with a profile that could kill, elbow on the arm of his seat with his head in his hand and his sunglasses pointlessly resting on the bridge of his nose. And then it hit me, not only was he like the richest man alive; he was also, indirectly speaking, my boss. Tony Stark.

I had only briefly met him once after my orientation at Stark Industries, so I wasn’t worried about being recognized. It was the fact that he was the man I wanted to wake up to every morning to study his brilliant brain. Now that, that did the trick. I felt heat spread through my body starting at my core and working its way to my neck. I rubbed the back of my neck as I shook off the nerves. I got this, just another customer, just one with a lot more money than most.

As the music faded from Scarlett’s song, I watched her pick up her money and try and shove it in her bag. The DJ started talking to the crowd and hyping up Scarlett as she walked around collecting some final tips. She got on her knees in front of Mr. Stark and leaned in real close. Without a single change in his demeanor, he pulled a single bill from the inside of his suit jacket and handed it to her between his middle and index finger, as if he was trying to shoo her away. But even I could see it was a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill. She looked at the bill offended and snatched it from his fingers before finishing her way around the stage. Once she was done, she passed me with a huff, practically cussing the billionaire out as she exited the stage to the back with her bag overflowing with money from the other customers. Something about being a ‘cheap micropenis douche who wouldn’t be able to appreciate a good dance if it hit him in the face. I shook my head pushing the waves of my hair over my shoulder as the DJ started to introduce me.

“If you thought Scarlett was good let the bar know and you might be able to get a private dance before she leaves tonight. But you might not want to leave just yet because next, we have our very best. A woman who can turn any type of music into your new favorite song. Here to prove it once again, the seductress herself, Bambi!”

I laugh to myself at the length of his introduction, but it’s true I like a challenge and today I picked a song that I normally wouldn’t have. “Back in Black” by AC/DC started playing and I couldn’t help but notice a certain man in the front’s ears begin to perk up at the first couple of notes. Maybe it was my eyes playing tricks on me but I swear I even saw him sit up a little straighter.

I took confident, sexy strides towards the front of the stage and swayed my hips in a circle once I got in front of the pole. I held it as I circled it scanning the crowd. I dropped my hips and rose sensual making my ass bounce to the beat before turning my back to the pole and rolling my hips. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Mr. Stark lean forward in his chair hands clasped, elbows on his knees. He was invested and I wanted to give him a show.

I started to climb the pole and as I did, he slid his sunglasses off his face, looking directly into my eyes, staring deep into my soul with the kindest eyes I’ve ever seen in my life. But I knew tonight I wouldn’t get to see the pain or trauma he’s overcome through his eyes because tonight, they were filled with lust.

Lust, passion..Possession.

As I slid down the pole his eyes never left my body. I gracefully landed on the floor and crawled to the edge of the stage. I turned to lay on my back letting the waves of my hair cascade off the edge, I arched my back looking straight at him. In a swift motion, almost a blur, my view was clouded by the storm of papers falling from the sky. Now standing directly over me with his hands firmly pressed against the stage on either side of my face. As lay there on my back I realized what just happened. I just made a billionaire rain hundreds upon my body and his face hovering over mine, was him making his claim on me for the night.

I sensually brought myself back to my knees slightly rolling in the thick layer of money that covered the stage. I twirled my ass in a way I know would make anyone weak and I didn’t have to look back to know he was all in. Crawling my way back to the pole using it to stabilize myself as I try to stand, simultaneously trying not to trip on the stage that I couldn’t see anymore. Now this wasn’t my first time getting rained on at the club, however when I looked down, the most notable difference between now and any other time it’s happened was that it was normally a slew of ones, maybe some fives, occasionally a couple stray twenties. But this... was all hundreds. Strictly Benjamin’s scattered across the whole stage to the point you couldn’t see anyone else’s money that was thrown during my set. I’m definitely going to need a bigger money bag.

• • • • • • • • • • • •

Three trash bags, four security guards and five songs later, I just about collected all the money Mr. Stark threw for me. Now usually, we don’t get help picking up our money, unless it’s a VIP room shared by three or more dancers. However, because of the sheer amount of money and the fact that I was the club’s best dancer, they played favorites tonight. Not to mention girls from the back started to pick up bills that had overflowed from the stage onto the floor. Even some of the customers started pocketing some of the cash and honestly, could you blame them?

I immediately gave the bags of money to our house mom so she could cash me out for the night, but as I handed her my bags she told me I had a VIP room and she would put the bags in her safe until I was done. My heart sped up a bit as I hoped it was the very generous billionaire, but what are the odds that he would get a VIP room with me right after throwing a million dollars at me, literally. Technically I could’ve turned it down, I mean I definitely made more than enough money tonight, but part of me wanted to see who it was.

I touched up my makeup, ran a brush through my hair and freshened up a bit before changing my heels to a more comfortable black pair. As I walked through the curtains to the main floor, I could see Siren on stage dancing to “Body Party” by Ciara. I took note that the front row seat was occupied by another man. My heartbeat quickened as I turned towards the VIP rooms down the hall.

The closer I got I could hear the voice I dreamed of waking up next to. I took a deep breath primped my hair and opened the door to the room. His back was turned to me as he talked into his phone. He seemed unamused and inconvenienced. I took the moment to admire his figure as he hung up, not noticing my presence yet. He ran his hand over his face and through his hair, oh how I’d love to lace my fingers through those tresses, before throwing his phone at the coach.

“I heard you were looking for a private dance,” I say as I entering the room further making my presence known.

Unfazed by this discovery, he turned around with that signature smirk. All doubt and suspicions placed aside I was standing in front of the Genius, Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist himself, Tony Stark.

“And I heard you were the best,” taking a step closer to me.

“Depends on who you ask,” mimicking his actions.

“I trust my sources,” he said looking me up and down “, they’ve never failed me before.”

“Once or twice is not never,” I scoffed remembering the time my team had to cover a minuscule mistake in one of the details for a new clean air prototype we were working on that could have cost the company millions because one of his “sources” said it looked good enough.

“What are you-” I cut him off, closing the distance between us and reach for his tie to play with between my fingers. The way the fabric felt between my fingers let me know it was no clip-on, job interview tie. It was probably custom-made and imported from France or something ridiculous like that.

“So are we going stand here and banter or did you want that dance. Or was that an excuse to get me alone?”

“You better watch yourself, princess”

“Oh,” I tilted my head to the side challenging his very existence “, or what?”

“You know who I am.”

“Hmm, so maybe I do, but we have rules here,” I push him back on the couch “, Sir.” I smirk before climbing on him and straddling his lap placing my hands on his chest on either side of his arc reactor. I feel him tense slightly as I touched his chest, maybe an insecurity. I scanned his eyes, easily reading everything that fed into my suspicions. He looked as if I would turn and run in fear that he was some sort of monster, at any second just because it was there. I bring one of my hands to his cheek and stroked it in reassurance, silently letting him know I wasn’t going anywhere and not just because he was paying me to be here. He let go of the breath he didn’t know he was holding and regained his cockiness. All traces of the vulnerable moment we shared gone as I slid my hand down his neck to rest on his shoulder.

“So, it looks like I’m getting my dance after all,” he said running his hands up my thighs and resting them on my hips.

I started to roll my hips in circles, biting my lip so I wouldn’t enjoy the touch of his hands on my bare skin too much, “It would appear so.”

“What does a girl like you know about AC/DC?”

“I’m offended Mr. Stark, a girl like me?” I grabbed the hair at the base of his neck pulling lightly, tilting his head back. He groaned as I rolled my hips harder for emphasis.

“That’s not what I—fuck.”

I smiled as he squeezed his eyes shut, admiring the twisted expression his face held. I took the hand that was resting on his chest up his neck to his face running my fingers over his lips, they parted instinctively, before cupping his cheek and leaning in close to his ear whispering, “Mr. Stark I’m afraid you know nothing about me and the type of girl I am.”

His hands slid further up my waist gripping me tightly. At least I’d have a couple bruises to remember him by. He opened his eyes and for the split second I saw them, they were pitch black. He growled slightly pulling me into the most animalistic, passionate kiss I have ever shared with anyone. Quick to reciprocate, I wrapped both my arms around his neck, lacing my fingers in his hair, desperately trying to grasp on to any bit of sanity I had left. He bit my lip asking me for the permission that I granted him oh so quickly and without hesitation. He moved swiftly and his presence was so strong I was intoxicated by his scent, he was everywhere and nowhere at once, flooding my senses with everything that was him. I pulled away reluctantly needing to catch my breath. It came out in gasps, but he didn’t miss a beat sliding down to my neck feverishly, desperate to have my flesh between his lips.

“Mr. Stark,” I moaned.

“Call me Tony,” he said.

“I-I can’t,” I gasped, fighting another moan.

“Why not, princess?” barely letting his lips leave my neck even for a second, not seeming fazed by my answer. I could feel the smile on his lips, I couldn’t give in.

“I just, I can’t tell you.” Whatever spell he had me under was about to have me sleep with my boss without him even knowing he was my boss. Not that it wouldn’t be consensual but I still wouldn’t want to raise any problems at work.

He hummed against my neck and licked from the base of my throat to my ear then peppered kisses back to my lips before saying, “You’re trying to hide something from me, but I’ll figure it out.” He started to stand and I slid off of his lap still in his tight embrace. He leaned down kissing the corner of my mouth and whispered in my ear, “You know who I am,” and with that, he straightened his jacket grabbed his phone and left the room.

There I stood lipstick smudged, high off the intoxicating drug that was Anthony Edward Stark.

[mintaka14]

Here’s the final chapter of See the Light. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks to @quickspinner for letting me play with your prompt.

See the Light

A Miraculous Ladybug fanfiction

By Mintaka14

Chapter Four – The World Has Somehow Shifted

 She was reading too much into that song. All Rose’s talk of romance and fairytales and Disney was getting to her, and sung in Luka’s gorgeous voice of course it was going to sound like…

Dammit, she was a grown woman, and she was not going to cry.              

But her vision blurred as she typed out the curt little response to Luka’s text. She didn’t dare trust herself to write more.

She should know by now that Ladybug didn’t get the happily ever after, and she didn’t get the prince. (But I don’t want a prince, the voice whispered at the back of her mind, just Luka)

The wedding dresses were done and delivered, so Marinette threw herself into making her own outfit as a distraction. If she couldn’t go to the Liberty, she could focus on gold embossed blue silk chiffon with grim determination. The results were at least pretty enough, she decided as she faced the mirror on the morning of the wedding.

The skirts drifted around her knees in a cloud of powder blue and gold filigree. She flattened her hand over the narrow gilt belt at her waist and regarded herself critically, reaching up to tuck an escaping strand of hair back into the chignon at the nape of her neck. Marinette found herself wondering if Luka would like it, and cut that train of thought off sharply. It didn’t matter what he thought, because they were simply friends, assuming they could even be that anymore. She was not doing this to the both of them all over again.

She heard Mylène’s voice at the door, and caught up the clutch purse with her disapproving kwami in it, sliding into the pale gold heels that she’d bought for the occasion. Time to go and be happy for her friends.

Marinette travelled out to the vineyard for the wedding with Ivan and Mylène, and sat with them under the trees as the harpist played and the guests gathered. The soft chatter died down, and as the music paused and swelled in the bright afternoon the brides made their way down the grassy aisle together. Rose was sunshine in blushing pink and cascades of flowers, bright as she beamed up at Juleka. And Juleka, in her darkly elegant moonlit gown, glowed.

Marinette’s eyes turned to Luka, taking his place beside Anarka. He’d managed to lose his suit coat and tie somewhere along the way, and the teal fall of his hair was a vivid splash of colour over the charcoal and cloud grey of his shirt and vest as he bent to say something quietly to his mother, his arm going around her. Luka’s head turned, and for a moment his eyes met hers.

“Are you okay, Marinette?” Mylène whispered, and Marinette jerked her gaze free, managing to summon up a smile that must have been convincing enough.

It was a small wedding, but half of the guests were Couffaines, and it turned out that the Lavillants were a lot like Rose, so it wasn’t by any means a subdued or formal occasion. Marinette had never met Rose’s parents, but it was obvious where Rose got her enthusiasm from once she’d been introduced to Rose’s mother. And then there was Jagged.

He’d swooped down on Marinette in an exuberant avalanche the moment that the two brides had been whisked away for their photos, and Marinette had been left laughing and breathless. She was passed from hand to hand, and congratulated at every turn on the stunning wedding gowns.

Once or twice, she caught Luka looking her way, and there was something in his eyes that made her heart stumble, but he kept his distance. She was, she told herself, grateful for that.

Marinette caught up her pale blue and gold skirts as the breeze fluttered them around her and picked her way carefully across the grass as the entire company trekked through the gardens towards the waiting château. Luka still hadn’t come anywhere near her by the time they’d all reached the wide paved courtyard where waiters were moving around with trays of champagne and platters of elegant hors d’oeuvre waited on tables against the backdrop of old-fashioned damask roses and ivy and stone walls. She smiled and waved away the offered champagne glass, and threaded her way through the chattering guests to slip inside the doors of the huge old hall ready for the reception. Once inside, she breathed a sigh of relief in the temporary silence.

The hall was a warm cavern of stone and timber, glowing in the candlelight and soft with tables full of white linen and pink roses, and Marinette tilted her head to look up into the strings of pennants and fairy lights that twinkled from the ancient rafters. She knew, without looking, that the soft footfall behind her was Luka.

“Rose’s fairytale,” she said a little wistfully. “It’s beautiful.”

“It is.” He was looking at her. “Feeling a little bit overwhelmed?” he asked sympathetically.

“It’s just been a long day.”

For a moment, it looked like he was going to reach out to her, but he shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Everyone will be coming inside soon. I’m thinking it might be a good time to go find a quiet corner to get ready for our performance,” he suggested, and Marinette let out a faint sigh.

“A quiet corner sounds like a wonderful idea.”

As she followed him out of the hall, Luka chuckled and nodded at one of the delicate pink flower arrangements. Nestled in among the roses, Marinette saw a tiny glittery black bat, and she couldn’t help laughing.

“It’s Juleka’s fairytale too,” Luka said.

The space he led her to had obviously become the designated storage area for every musician on the guest list. They picked their way through the jumble of instruments that seemed to fill the antechamber, and Luka gave a wry smile.

“Jagged’s brought in enough to start a fairly sizeable orchestra. I think things are going to get loud later on.”

He found his acoustic guitar propped behind a drumkit, and she perched on a chair while he tuned it. She found herself staring stupidly at those arms of his, and the snake tattoo that coiled down his forearm from under his rolled up shirt sleeves, wishing they were wrapped around her. It really wasn’t fair of him.

“Marinette?”

She shook herself out of her stupor.

She kept waiting for him to say something about the way she’d run off the last time he’d seen her, or to ask if she was alright. Instead, he played a quick rising scale on his guitar, and then settled into an easy little melody that was familiar enough that she could sing along with it. She was grateful for his silence as she gave most of her attention to warming her voice up, but a part of her couldn’t help wondering why he said nothing.

Marinette startled and pulled her attention back when Luka stopped and glanced over his shoulder.

He said, “It sounds like it’s just about our turn. Are you feeling ready?”

The noise was rising in the hall behind them with the sound of laughter and talk, and shoes and chairs clattering on the flagstones. Anarka’s voice rang out over the babble, commanding someone to Sit down, ye auld pirate! Marinette heard Jagged’s holler in response, and felt a sickening spike of nerves. What had possessed her to agree to this? She was going to sing in front of Jagged Stone? Marinette looked back at the hall full of people, and gave a shudder.

“What on earth was I thinking? I can’t sing! I’m going to completely choke in front of everyone and embarrass Rose and Juleka on their wedding day.”

Luka caught her hand, tugging her around gently until she was looking at him.

“I’ve got you,” he insisted, just as sincere and steady as he’d been when they were teenagers, and she took a deep breath, letting it out again. “I won’t let you fall. You’ve got this.”

“Have I?”

His answering smile was full of certainty. “You’ve done worse than this before, you can handle a handful of friends who’ll love you even if you sound like a crow. Which you don’t,” he told her with a warm laugh in his voice. “You’ve spoken on stage in front of fashion critics, you can handle anything.”

“And I wanted to throw up every time.”

“But you didn’t.”

Marinette tilted a dark look at him, and he smothered a smile.

“Okay, so you threw up. I can take a bucket on stage for you if you like.”

“It’s alright for you, Mister Rockstar,” she sniffed.

“There’s a reason I never took Jagged up on his offer to take me on tour with him,” he told her. “Although, in retrospect, a classroom full of bored fifteen year olds is a tougher audience than a stadium crowd, so maybe I should have.”

She could help the laugh that escaped, and she looked down at his hands still holding hers. Dangerous, to even consider taking the support he’d always offered her, but she kept her eyes on him and her hand in his as he caught up his guitar, and she let him lead her towards the hall.

In the end, it wasn’t hard to block out the soft rustle of people at the tables, or Rose’s excited little squeak. She didn’t even notice Jagged’s wolf-whistle, or Penny shushing him. There was Luka and his guitar and his wonderful, reassuring smile as she followed his music and sang.

His smile grew brighter as she chimed in with, “All those days, watching from the windows,” and the guitar chords rippled before her like water. It was easy when it felt like there was just Luka, here with her. Perilously easy.

She sang, “All at once, everything is different,” and she wasn’t singing for Rose and Juleka anymore. Luka’s gorgeous blue eyes were on her, only on her, as he took up the melody. Music was his truest voice, and in that moment she heard his heart as clearly as he’d ever heard hers. Marinette felt something like an electric shock, and faltered her cue.

Luka’s eyes shifted swiftly into concern, and his voice picked it up again until she’d recovered. She couldn’t be having this moment now, not in the middle of Rose and Juleka’s wedding, not on their day. Luka’s warm, husky voice wrapped around her, held her up, and as he sang “At last I see the light” Marinette knew that this was something she was never going to recover from.

The sound of applause brought her back to herself, and she broke away from the look in Luka’s eyes with a faint gasp. Somehow she managed to find the words to wish Juleka and Rose and very happy marriage, then she slid past everyone, heading a little too fast towards the door. Friends, and people she’d never met in her life, spoke to her as she passed and she offered them brief, strained smiles. She barely knew what she was saying to them, and didn’t really hear what they were saying to her.

Finally, she found herself outside in the cool and blessedly quiet night air. She could hear the sounds of the first round of music starting, and Jagged’s boisterous voice over the static wail of an electric guitar being tuned. The laughter and chatter in the ballroom behind her was muffled and felt like a whole world away. Marinette put a hand up to her overheated cheek, and was a little startled to find that she was shaking. Even after all these years, after convincing herself for so long that they were just friends, that it was fairer to him if they were just friends, that he didn’t want to be more than friends after everything she’d put him through, those steady blue eyes of his could still hit her hard.

“Marinette?” Luka said behind her, and she jolted. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. You’re going to miss the dancing,” she said, trying hard to keep her voice light. She didn’t think he was fooled. He’d always been far too good at reading her mind and heart, even when she’d been incomprehensible to herself, and that was another thing that had made him so dangerous to be around.

“They won’t even notice I’m not there for a while.” He shifted a little, close enough that she could bridge the space between them if she wanted to. “I’m here if you need me.”

He had always been there for her. That simple truth was what broke her down in the end. She felt a bubble catch in her chest, rising to force its way out with a strangled sound. She almost doubled over, gripping the ivy-covered wall beside her, and heard Luka’s quick inhalation, his hand rising towards her and falling again as she backed away.

“See, this? This is why I broke up with you when we were teenagers,” she almost sobbed at him. “You make me want to hold onto you and tell you everything, and I can’t!”

Luka was holding himself in intense stillness.

“The other relationships I’ve had, it was easy enough to walk away when things got too close, but you… It’s not fair!”

“What’s not fair?” Luka asked carefully.

“Doing that to you!” She was shaking now. “Having to give this up again. Why does everyone else get to have someone to love them and I don’t?!”

“You do.” He took one small, uncontrolled step towards her. “Whether we’re together or not, whoever you’re with, whatever is going on in your life, I love you. I will always care about you.”

“You need the truth, and it’s the one thing I can’t give you,” she said miserably.

Luka’s voice was so soft it was almost unspoken. “What if I already know?”

It took a moment for his words to catch up with her and sink in. The world faded into a distant buzz in her head, a cold tingle that crept over her.

Oh, that was bad. That was bad. He couldn’t mean what she thought he meant. She’d given up so much to keep anyone from knowing, and she could still feel the crushing backlash of what had happened when she’d made the mistake of telling her closest friend. He couldn’t know.

“Marinette?”

In the dizzying spiral of her fragmented reactions, she couldn’t think, couldn’t move. She stood still, and felt his hands close over hers, gently, so very gently. The contact anchored her to the moment.

“Marinette, I’m here. It’s going to be okay.”

She turned her hands, palm to palm, under his hands and wove her fingers through his.

“I told Alya,” she breathed, and the quality of stillness deepened as he listened. “After you and I broke up, I was so sick of the secrets and lies, and Alya found out some things, so I told her. For three months I had someone who knew, then of course it went wrong, and now Alya has three months of patchy memories from collège that I’m not a part of. I’m still not sure how much deeper the impact to her mind went. The last time I saw her, back around the time I started at the Institut, she still had that puzzled, blank look when she looked my way because I had to take her memory of my secret identity away.”

Marinette drew a deep, shuddering breath.

“I never, ever want to do that to you,” she whispered, and Luka drew her closer, his fingers still tangled in hers. “I couldn’t bear to look into you eyes and see that blankness there.”

He was close enough that she could feel his heartbeat and the soft huff of his laugh against her hair. “Haven’t you figured it out yet, Marinette? You will never see that in me. Never. You could take away every memory I have of you, and I’d still have stars in my eyes when I look at you. I’d just fall for you all over again, like I do every time we meet.”

She hiccuped on a sob, and looked up into his warm, steady blue eyes.

“If that’s what you need to do to be safe, then take them,” he told her. “I’ll happily give up those memories of knowing that you’re her if that’s what you need. It doesn’t change a thing about how I feel about you.”

“It’s not just that. Have you thought, if I take away your memory of me being… her… and we still try to make us work, we’re back to all those secrets and broken dates and lies.”

“Then give me what you can. If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s that some truths aren’t yours to share. Just don’t lie when you can’t tell me, and I promise you I’ll understand.”

That he was willing to compromise even that for her… Oh, Luka.

“Or,” she let out the word on a soft exhale, as if testing the idea, “you know.”

And who else, when all was said and done, would she trust more than Luka with her heart and all of her secrets? Who else would she trust to keep the world safe, and everything she’d been fighting to protect?

Luka’s thumb was gently tracing the line of her palm, and the touch was calming even as her mind cleared and raced. This didn’t feel like a scared fourteen year old, alone and overwhelmed and terrified she was going to lose her best friend as well as the boy she loved. This felt like the moment when she held a lucky charm and the pieces of a plan started to come together in her mind. This felt like what she needed.

Marinette stretched up on her toes and met his lips with a kiss.

She heard the sudden hitch of his breath, and there was a moment’s hesitation that would have let her draw back, freak out, rethink, but she wasn’t holding back anymore. This time, when she kissed him, he met her halfway.

Marinette stumbled backwards into the ivy-covered wall as she tugged Luka with her and his mouth came down on hers, desperate and insistent. And oh god if he’d kissed her like this all those years ago she never would have been able to give him up.

She felt the ivy catch at her hair as he backed her up against the wall. The touch of his hand on her jaw, his fingers buried deep in the unravelling curls at the base of her neck, was bringing everything undone and Marinette tilted her head back as his mouth trailed down to the hollow of her throat.

Marinette’s hands clutched at his shirt as the weight of his thigh pressed against her, and she hitched her leg up against his hip, trying to get closer. The gutteral noise he made did unspeakable things to her and god he was ruining her as she pulled him closer, wanting him closer, wanting him. His mouth was on hers again, swallowing the sounds she was making. She could feel him, hard against her, through the layers of silk chiffon.

In the haze that he was making of her mind she was still dimly aware of the sounds of the wedding and the presence of their friends and family in the hall just beyond their deeper well of shadows against the wall, but as she pushed harder against him, the soft froth of her skirts bunching between them, Marinette didn’t care. Her hands came up to dig into the muscles of his shoulders, holding him and oh god, Luka.

White heat swept over her, blanking out her thoughts, and then they were breaking apart, breathing hard.

“Please tell me I can kiss you again,” Luka rasped. His fingers were tangled with hers, and she could feel the uneven rise and fall of his breath.

“Oh, god, yes!”

The kiss was softer this time, reverent, with the feather light brush of his lips over the corner of her mouth, and she shivered at the touch.

“Luka? Are you out here?” someone called.

Marinette blinked in the sudden wash of golden light and raucous swell of noise, and she looked up to find Rose and Juleka standing in the open doorway. Juleka had a hand over her new wife’s mouth, and Rose’s eyes were impossibly wide. She was almost vibrating, and reached up to pull Juleka’s hand away.

“Best. Wedding present. Ever!” she breathed with barely suppressed intensity, and Luka gave a soft huff of a laugh, leaning his forehead against Marinette’s. He plucked a stray ivy leaf from her hair and let it drift to the ground.

“Rose, I love you like my own sister,” he said, “and I know it’s your wedding day, but please go away.”

After Juleka managed to tug Rose away, there were a few more soft kisses in the darkness before they reluctantly returned to the wedding reception. Marinette parted from Luka for just long enough to grab her purse and disappear into the bathroom to untangle her ruined chignon and pin her hair back into some semblance of order in front of the mirror. Her dress was hopelessly crumpled, though, and her lipstick was beyond repair. Marinette found herself smiling dopily at her reflection.

“Marinette, this is bad!” a tiny voice said portentously from her purse, and it felt like a sudden dunk in cold water. Marinette slowly ran her hands down her wrinkled skirts, delaying the moment, while she thought. Finally she straightened, and turned to face her kwami.

“You’re going to have to erase his memories,” Tikki insisted.

“I don’t think so,” Marinette said, ignoring Tikki’s horrified gasp, as her mind ran through the possibilities with lightning speed. “No.”

“Marinette.” Tikki’s tone was ominous. “You’re not thinking straight. You’re letting a few kisses cloud your judgement. You know –“

“Has it occurred to you,” she interrupted Tikki, “how long we’ve just been fighting everything to a standstill? You say I’m a fantastic Ladybug, but we’re no closer to getting back the butterfly miraculous than we were ten years ago. Ten years. I’ve been so caught up in just surviving from moment to moment, one battle to the next, one villain to the next, that I haven’t been able to think beyond that. I had no idea how much it was draining me until I reconnected with Juleka and Rose again, and with Luka.”

“Do you remember what happened the last time you revealed your identity? Alya –“

“Luka is not Alya,” Marinette cut off the doom-laden lecture, and there was a hint of growing steel in her voice. “And I’m not a fourteen year old, new to her responsibilities, anymore. You say you trust me, so trust me. I’m feeling clearer than I have in a long, long time. For the first time in years, I actually feel like I have hope, and I will find a way to make this work.”

Luka was waiting for her when she made it back to the hall, and she barely noticed the kind and knowing grins of their friends and his family as the rest of the night passed in a haze of glitter and fairylights and music with Luka’s arms around her. Tikki was silent in her purse where she’d left it at the table. There would be serious conversations later, and the fate of Paris to talk about, but right now she didn’t care.

The speeches were finally done, the fairytale cake was a scattering of crumbs, and one of the guests had taken over the stage to sing a slow, sweet cover of Nothing Else Matters while couples danced and smaller groups laughed and talked. Luka pulled Marinette close, his hands warm on the curve of her back, and she looked up into those deep blue eyes of his.

The invitation that he whispered against her ear sent heat straight through her. Feeling a little breathless, she tried to pull herself together. They were still in the middle of the dancefloor and surrounded by people, his mother was right there, but those eyes of his were doing things to her.

“You don’t want to take a turn on stage?” she asked a little dazedly, glancing at the musicians on the tiny stage, but he was only looking at her.

His mouth curved up in a tiny smile. “There are other songs I’d rather be playing right now.”

There was only so much she could take, Marinette decided. Her hands slid down from around his neck to the lean, solid muscle of his shoulders and chest, and she enjoyed the way he reacted under her touch. She flicked a glance up at him through her lashes.

“Then take me to bed,” she told him, her voice turning low and throaty. “I want a private performance, rockstar.”

Luka made a strangled noise, and she took his hand.

In the soft darkness of his guest room on the other side of the château, when her dress slid to the floor in a shimmer of blue and gold, she heard his swift inhalation. Then it was his turn to steal her breath away and make her cry out.

Some time later in the early dark hours of the morning, when the sounds of music and loud laughter from the hall were finally starting to die down, and the newly weds had long left the party for their bridal suite, Marinette propped her chin on Luka’s bare chest and enjoyed the view. His hands moved over her back, coming up to stroke the tangled fall of dark hair from her eyes.

“Beautiful,” he whispered in that husky voice that sent shivers through her.

Beyond the heavy damask curtains at the windows, she could see the first faint light of dawn.

“What happens now?” Marinette asked quietly. As the corners of Luka’s mouth lifted in a smile that turned a little wicked, she pouted at him. “Other than that!”

The quilt had ended up in a puddle on the floor somewhere in the night, but the sheets shifted around her as he gathered her closer and brushed a kiss against her hair.

“I think this is where we live happily ever after. Rose will disown us if we don’t.”

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” she said, rolling her eyes. She settled back against him again. “Although I’m not sure I remember how to do happy.”

“This looks like a pretty good place to start to me.”

Her finger traced a line around his wrist where a particular bracelet had been, once upon a time. Maybe it was time for the snake Miraculous to make a reappearance. Tikki would probably have a lot to say about that, but maybe it was time to rethink a few things. She circled his wrist again, looping back to where she’d started.

Marinette gave a sudden gasp and sat up, the sheets tumbling away from her as Luka protested. She stared down at him with wide eyes and complete disregard for her current nakedness.

“I… think I have a plan,” she told him a little breathlessly, and Luka burst out laughing.

“Of course you do.” His voice with thick with adoration and pride, and he pushed himself upright, reaching to cradle her cheek in his hand as he kissed her slowly and thoroughly until she was dazed with it. He rested his forehead against hers, and she could see that beautiful smile of his. “Some things never change.”

“But I think it’s time that some things do,” Marinette said, and kissed him back fervently with all the love in her heart.

~~~~~

Many weeks later, Sass turned from contemplating the butterfly Miraculous, finally returned to the Miracle Box where it belonged, to give the kwami of creation a smug look.

“I told you yearsss ago you ssshould have brought back my massster. Your wielder iss a brilliant Ladybug, but sshe needsss more than cold duty to truly thrive and ssshine. And the ssnake makess many thingss possssible.”

Tikki huffed and made a sour face.

“Fine, you win. You were right.”

Sass’s fangs bared in a wide grin.

“Musssic to my earsss,” he hissed, and sailed away to find a patch of sunshine to enjoy his victory. If anyone had been around to listen they might have heard the little snake humming, “At lassst they sssaw the light,” as he tucked his tail under and settled into a coil, but the kwamis were too busy celebrating Nooroo’s return to hear anything else, and on the couch, Marinette and Luka were lost in their own little world of tangled hands and lingering kisses. Whatever Luka was saying in a husky undertone to Marinette had brought a rising blush to her cheeks and a bright smile to her face.

They were happy.

In that moment, everyone was happy.

And that, Sass reflected with immense satisfaction, was exactly as it should be.

[somehow-happy]

Roratious II

A/N: Hello again :) It took a month to write this (well I'm also lazy as fuck) but this chapter is a little bigger and is a flashforward and it happens right at the end of spiderman homecoming.

Again, english is not my first language sorry if have any mistakes

September 18, 2016. London

“Love, you’re father really wants to spend some time with you” Rose said while driving her car, Rory was very reluctant to stay with her dad, she felt he was putting her aside. Tony had met this kid named Peter and every time Tony called to Rory, he would talk non stop about his new prodigy. Rory always hated the idea to share any of her parents and Tony was ‘adopting’ this boy.

“But mom, I don’t want to.”

“Darling, you didn’t spend the summer with him, he misses you”

“I was busy promoting your brand new shampoo, mom, he do not miss me. He have that little orphan of his” Rory crossed her arms, she was acting childish, Rose rolled her eyes. “Mamma, please let me stay here”

“Aurora Maria Pearl Stark, stop with this jealousy nonsense. You’re going spend time with your father, end of history.” Rory stayed quieted. Rory’s phone was connected on the car’s radio. Then, started to play her favorite song, Lay All Your On Me by ABBA – Rory’s favorite group, Rory tried her best to not sing

“I wasn't jealous before we met. Now every woman I see is a potential threat… Come on darling, sing with me, you love this song…I'm possessive, it isn't nice. You've heard me saying that smoking was my only vice” Rory kept ignoring her mom

“But now it isn't true, now everything is new, and all I've learned has overturned. I beg of you”

“Don’t go wasting your emotions, LAY ALL YOUR LOVE ON ME!” Rory screamed from the top of her lungs, suddenly the music stopped and Happy by Pharrell started to play. Rory answered the phone “Hey Happy” Rose looked at her daughter confused

“You’re ringtone for Happy is Pharrell’s happy?”

“Really, Rory? I hate this song” Happy said through the speakers, Rory laugh and said:

“I hate it too, but it suits you so perfectly” Rory laughed a little

“Anyway, Sleepy, I’m at Heathrow airport, can you pack your things as faster as you can and come here?”

“I thought I was going to New York in four days”

“Change of plains, your dad wants to see you as soon as possible, he wants to tell you something” Rory roll her eyes, when Tony wants see her fast it means he wants to drop a bomb in her lap.

“Ok Happy, I’ll be there soon”

Rose and Rory arrived at their house and stared to pack Rory’s things

“Got everything you need?” Rose said

“Yeah, mom”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, mother”

“Your glasses?”

“Oui, maman”

“Your contacts?”

“Ja, mama”

“Your sleep mask?”

“Yep, and if I don’t, I’m buying all the things I need there. Money is not a problem, when both of my parents are rich”

“Very funny, young lady, George is waiting for us in the car” Rose and Rory went to Heathrow, they entry the private jets area, Rory previously send a message to Happy saying she was going to be there soon. He was standing at the jet ladder. The driver stopped the car in front of the jet. Happy went down the stairs to meet Rory.

Rory opened the door, she said goodbye to her mother and greeted Happy with a hug, he kissed the top of her head.

“Is that the new shampoo?” Happy said

“Yep, Happysody, my shampoo, named after me and my big Stark ego” Rory brag herself while she was entering the jet. They took their sits and the jet starred to took off. “Happy, Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Do you know what my dad wants?” Happy looked down, he knew exactly what Tony wanted and he knew Rory wouldn't like.

“He made a suit for you”

“HE WHAT?!” Rory got up, she didn’t believe what her father just did

“I told him you would hate, but he didn’t listen to me”

“I thought, he was finally in his right mind. Finally realize he’s too old for that type of superhero thing. Finally settled his ass down, but no! he wants to drag me into his madness with him”

“Tony wants to be close to you, like you and him were when you were a kid”

“Why he didn’t went to my graduation then? If he wants to be so fucking close to me?”

Happy didn’t know what to say, he wanted to defend Tony, but he knew Rory was right. Overall, the flight was really nice, Rory was very easygoing when she was with the right people and Happy it was one of them.

Soon the jet land and for Rory’s surprise her father was expecting her there.

That was weird, Rory thought.

Tony opened his arms waiting for a big hug. Even though Rory didn’t want to go, she also missed her dad, so she simply hugged him tight and he hugged her back tighter.

“Hey squid-roar” Tony said, but he didn’t break

“Hey, pops” Rory also didn’t break the hug, Tony felt really good with his daughter’s hug. He fell all the pain he was feeling from the past months it was healing just by Rory’s presence. “It’s good not hit my head in that thing on your chest” Tony separate and said:

“Hey! That thing also worked as night light for you, miss, when ever you had a nightmare and sleep in my bed”.  

They both got in Tony’s car. Tony said to Happy to take Rory’s suitcases to his new apartment and pick up Peter at school. He was going to ask formally Peter to become an avenger and he couldn’t trust two fifteen years old at the same building without an adult to supervise them. Specially when one of the fifteen years old is his daughter.

"So, how much your mother paid for you to come?" Tony joked

"10 grand and the all sells of my shampoo" Rory said playing the same game, Tony laugh. “I heard about you and cap, are you ok?”

“I’ll be, roar, I’ll be”.

Last chapter/ Next chapter

[silyabeeodess]

Going to take a moment to brag about a Webtoon comic that I’ve been reading lately called “The Remarried Empress.”  Honestly, drama isn’t one of my favorite genres, but this story does so many nice things that make it an enjoyable read through-and-through. 

First off is the name alone and opening chapter, which gives you the major spoiler that Empress Navier remarries immediately after her husband, Emperor Sovieshu, divorces her for his mistress, Rashta. I feel beginning the story in this way is pivotal to how successful it is, because we’re then brought back in time to the events leading up to said point--which include numerous struggles and emotional hardships for our heroine.  When it comes to these types of stories, where the main character is basically unfairly treated like someone’s punching bag, it’s very easily to get frustrated on their behalf.  Take, “Rising of the Shield Hero” for instance, where Naofumi is forced to clean up the messes of the other heroes and in return gets blamed for crimes he didn’t commit.  Another example is “Tess of the d’Urbervilles,” in which Tess is forced to face society’s harsh judgement and support her awful parents at the cost of her own happiness.  While the reader does garner a lot of sympathy for the main character, that sympathy can easily turn into a heated anger for the string of unjustices playing out in the story--with both a hope and uncertainty if there will even be a pay-off for it all.  This opening reassures the reader that, yes, everything will turn out alright in the end, instead replacing those feelings for a giddy anticipation of sweet, sweet karma. 

Spiraling off that point, this also plays a little into Navier’s character as well.  She doesn’t know what we, the audience, does; however, she’s a very strong and witty person who navigates herself through the worst of situations with a poker face that would be the envy of any gambler.   Yes, she suffers, but she always does whatever she can to rise out of the problem she’s in in the moment.  As much as we sympathize with her, we don’t have to mourn with her, because we know she can pick herself up again just fine. Therefore, it’s very easy to root for her as a kind of champion.  It makes following her story very calming and refreshing as opposed to the tale of the typical underdog.

Rashta’s character also has its own flavor to it.  A sad thing about a lot of modern day villains is that they often get split into two categories: Those who are rotten to the core and those who are merely misunderstood/need redemption.  Neither is necessarily bad: It’s moreso the collective whole of villains we see that make the lot of them stale, tiring, and even unbelievable. Rashta finds a nice balance between the two.  Without giving anything away, her backstory is sad.  We understand that she’s also suffered and is looking for her own happiness.  It’s difficult for her to trust others and she feels very alone, like she could be thrown away at any moment.  However, she clearly enjoys stepping on other people--even those who don’t have anything to do with her current situation.  She expects that other people sympathize with her even as she antagonizes them, such as Navier--the woman who’s husband she’s sleeping with.  The slightest, verbal slap-back can make her burst into tears, and she’ll manipulate others not just for her benefit, but also purely for her entertainment--even when the suffering she causes has grave consequences for those individuals. Yes, she has been a victim in the past, but it’s a role she refuses to let go of even when things are going well for her.  Yes, we understand Rashta, but her actions make it impossible to feel sorry for her.

While the main conflict is between Navier and Rashta as of the current update to the comic when writing this, don’t think they left a certain insect out of the mix! I’m glad that this story doesn’t just focus on two women fighting over a truly worthless guy as other stories have.  A homewrecker is terrible, but it takes two to tango and Sovieshu plays the role of crappy husband perfectly. While it’s addressed that he clearly still “loves” Navier in later chapters, it’s really just an ideal image of her rather than her herself that he projects onto Rashta--and he constantly gaslights/blames Navier for any fault that occurs on his or Rashta’s behalf.  He thinks he’s perfect, and wants both Navier and Rashta to follow his “perfect” vision of a single person without paying attention to his own faults. His “love” has turned to possession, and it will be a beautiful day when he wakes up and realizes he’s well past the point of being able to fix his mistakes.

As for Prince Heinrey, the last of our four main characters, I don’t know how much I can say as of right now since I’m also reading the Webnovel, which is much further ahead in the story than the comic.  Therefore, I won’t go into too many details.  I’ll just say that I do think he is an ideal guy for Navier to turn to, and while the audience can root for the both of them, there’s something a little uncomfortable about it that can tickle the back of the mind.  Don’t get me wrong, Heinrey truly loves Navier and comes across as a real prince charming, but the mystery element of a potential conflict between his kingdom and Sovieshu’s/Navier’s makes me wonder if any feelings she has for him will immediately fade due to the danger he poses to her people--even after the remarriage.  It’s easy to feel bad for Heinrey too since Navier is just coming off her bad relationship with Sovieshu while he’s already head over heels for her.  

That being said, it adds an extra element of suspense that might’ve otherwise been quashed by the opening’s reveal.  As much as I praised it, there would be a concern of just giving away the ending of the story like that--but that’s the gem: It’s not the end, it’s the end of an act/arc.  There’s so much more to “The Remarried Empress” that we’re only just being given spoonfuls of at a time, and with the focus being on the build-up to the divorce, I get a feeling it may lead to a blindsiding reveal in the future. 

Lastly, while this doesn’t have anything to do with the story itself, I have to say that reading the comments of it on Webtoons or posts about it on sites like this are just as entertaining.  Everyone’s so sassy that I think the fanbase just keeps riling itself up behind these characters as much as the plot itself.  I think if something big did happen in the story, I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone forgot for just a moment that it was fiction and rallied behind Navier all while screaming, “For our beloved queen, we ride at dawn!” because we’d just all be so swept away in our own energy. XD I don’t condone mob mentality, but this is one thing I could get behind.            

[niksixx]

America’s Most Wanted

Requested: Kind of :D 

Pairing: Duff McKagan x Fem!Reader 

Description: While you and Duff are lovers, you’re also killers. A modern day Bonnie and Clyde love story. 

Warning: Mentions of murder, blood, stabbing, guns, etc. I tried not to make this fic graphic, but please read at your own risk if you believe this piece will trigger you. 

A/N: I am blessing you all with a Duff fic because I know how much you lovely humans wanted me to write something for him!! It’s a different type of fic, I consider this ‘horror’ but again, I tried not to make it super graphic that way you can still enjoy it! 

*Picture is NOT mine. Found on Google. Credit to the owner.* 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The streets of Los Angeles are uncharacteristically quiet at four thirty in the morning. Normally buzzing with crowds of inebriated young adults who spill out to the sidewalk after a night at the Roxy, they have become calm and eerily so. Illumination from the lamp posts provides the only source of light throughout the city in the late hours of the night. Stores and clubs remain closed for the second week in a row. Workers and customers alike are suffering, but the safety of the LA citizens is at stake.

The police and the FBI are frazzled. Patrolling the streets is too dangerous. One by one the death toll increases, with each murder more gruesome than the next, always unprovoked. Media outlets across the country keep the American citizens informed. The mugshots of the murderers are on every news channel, and posters are hung on every telephone pole. The two killers are wanted dead or alive, and they are Bonnie and Clyde resurrected.

Sitting at the base of a tree is one of the killers, the more experienced of the two. He goes by Duff. Long leather clad legs are splayed out in front of him as he cleans the fresh blood from his knife with a towel that has seen better days. Beside him hidden in the grass is the lifeless body of a twenty-nine year old man who had made the mistake of stepping outside his home. The scent of blood is strong, but Duff’s used to it. After brutally ending the lives of thirty innocent civilians up and down the west coast, the pungent odor is rarely a bother. In fact, Duff finds it comforting.

At first glance, Duff appears just like any other man in Los Angeles. That alone makes him deadly. Tall, blonde, and adorned in leather assets from head to toe, he’s intimidating. But it’s not the kind of intimidating that urges people away. He possesses an allure that pulls them toward him, draws them in. And then, when they least expect it, he strikes. One and done. Swift and clean. No remorse.

With his back against the base of the tree, Duff scans the empty streets, looking for any sign of life that is foolish enough to leave the safety of the indoors. He knows the police are doing everything they can to locate him without putting themselves at risk. He is aware that cities all across the country are terrified that they’ll fall victim to his murder spree. And yet there are still people who choose to enter the outdoor world, exposing themselves to potential harm. There is always the option of breaking the glass windows and terrorizing the people who choose to stay inside, but that isn’t the name of the game. Duff waits for his victims. He never goes looking for them.

Heels clicking against the cement pavement grabs his attention. Turning his head toward the sound, a petite woman in a red peacoat has a bit of hustle in her step as she pulls the jacket tighter to her body. The naive little thing is alone, checking over her shoulder once, twice, before exhaling a breath into the air.

From his pocket, Duff digs out a cigarette. Holding it between two gloved fingers, he lights it and casually blows a ring of smoke into the night. “You know darling, you shouldn’t be out here all by yourself.”

The clicking comes to a halt. Caught in the midst of her venture home, the lady stops and turns, worry lines etched in her forehead. Duff sighs. Poor thing doesn’t know what’s coming for her. “I know. I’m coming from a friend’s house. My apartment is just down the street.”

Duff heaves himself to his feet, brushing off the dirt and grass from his body. Shockingly, the lady doesn’t budge, but her eyes watch his every move. Stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jacket, he lets the cigarette dangle from his lips. A few steps forward and he’s standing in front of the young woman who squares her body defensively. She doesn’t recognize him, another shock, as his face has been plastered all over the 11 o’clock news, but her guard is high.

“At four in the morning?” Duff asks incredulously, playing the part of an intrigued stranger. He uses his charm for an advantage. The woman smiles a little, relaxing her shoulders. Duff notices. “What were you doing?”

He doesn’t have to do this. He doesn’t have to pretend to care, to warm up his victims before the hunt. But killing is a game, and games are meant to be fun. “I was planning on staying over, but I have trouble falling asleep in homes that aren’t my own,” Her eyes travel the length of Duff’s body before settling back on his face. She has trouble reading him. “What’s your excuse for being out so late?”

A few feet away, a shadow emerges from behind the cars parked along the street. Straining his neck to get a closer look, Duff recognizes the shadow and snickers to himself. Curiously, the lady turns her gaze just as the shadow disappears behind a different car. “I have trouble sleeping. Past trauma,” Duff lies casually, eyes downcast at the cigarette in his mouth. “Fresh air and a smoke usually calms me down.”

“I’m sorry to hear that…”

“Duff,” He answers back with a slow smile. “And you are?”

“Linda.” A wary smile surfaces on her lips. The rise and fall of her chest is normal, not as panicked as it was before.

The shadow in the background slithers around the cars, inching its way closer. It’s on the hunt for its next prey, but Duff shakes his head, chuckling under his breath. He looks to Linda again, who stares back quizzically. “Well, Linda, it was very nice to meet you. It’s late, though, and you should head on home.”

With a curt nod, Linda tugs her purse higher onto her shoulder. “It was nice to meet you too, Duff.” Linda attempts to step around him, but Duff sidesteps and blocks her path. Linda straightens, the muscles in her face tightening.

“One more thing,” In the shallow pocket of his leather jacket, Duff runs a thumb over the tip of his blade, leaning toward her with a smirk. Linda recoils, and he deadpans. “Don’t scream.”

For a split second, Linda’s fight or flight response is activated, only to be cut off by the sharp pain of a blade wedged in the side of her ribcage. A gloved hand covers her mouth, suppressing the soft whimpers of agony. Cocking his head, Duff stares into her eyes as tears spill over the apples of her cheeks. With a quick, slick motion, Duff pulls the knife from her side before penetrating the skin just above her collarbone. Lightning quick, the shadow emerges from the darkness and hurls itself at Duff, knocking him against the brick wall of a building just a foot behind him. If only the shadow had been quicker, not as hesitant, then it may have claimed Linda as its victim.

Now under the light of a lamppost, the shadow appears in its true form. The second killer. Dressed head to toe in black garments, the boxcutter held tight in its grasp, it takes one step forward, lips curled back in contempt.

“Fuck you, Duff. I had that.”

The anger in your voice turns him on, the opposite effect that it should have on his body. You were right. Linda was your kill, but she’d been alive for far too long. Things didn’t always have to be planned. Excessive planning, while it worked in most cases, could end up being a weakness. Sometimes, you just needed to go for the quick kill.

“I am so sorry, sweetheart,” Feigning innocence, Duff gestures to Linda’s lifeless body as he blows a cloud of smoke into the air. While he’s positive Linda is as good as gone, there was always the chance she was grasping at life by the skin of her teeth. And if she was indeed just another lifeless body bleeding out on the concrete, Duff would enjoy the sight of you exploding in anger right in front of him. You were always more beautiful that way. “But her apartment was down the street. You were just a bit too slow, darling. She would have made it home alive.” Your eyes fall downcast. Duff sighs. “Tell you what. Check her pulse. If she’s still breathing, I’ll let you finish her off.”

Crouching down to the pavement, you slip your hand into the collar of Linda’s peacoat, two fingers positioned on the side of her neck. Blood trickles onto your hand, the pungent liquid dripping down the side of her neck to her ear. Closing your eyes, you concentrate on finding a slow beating, but the only pulse you feel is the one flowing through your fingertips.

Eyes narrowed to slits, you watch as Duff chuckles from his place at the wall, taking drag after drag of the cigarette. He knew she was dead. He was toying with you. Teeth clenched together, you find yourself pressing his back further into the bricks, snatching the white cancer stick from his lips, and crushing it under the heel of your boot. You hold the blade against his neck, applying just a bit of pressure to make him slightly squirm under your touch. Neither you nor Duff are strangers to rough play.

He blinks in pure astonishment before curling his lips into a sly grin. Your fingers twitch, itching to wipe the smile off his face, but he’s caught your wrist far too many times in the past when you’ve tried. “Someone’s a little angry, aren’t we?”

Linda’s blood smears over Duff’s lips as your fingers graze over his face. With your lips by his ear, you reply breathily, “Don’t ask questions you know the answer to.”

Pulling away, you let your hands drop by your side, curling and uncurling your fists as a way to release the tension in your body. It was your kill. How were you supposed to get better if Duff claimed the victims for himself?

“Maybe you need more training.”

Your blood boils, eyes shifting back to Duff’s smug face. If you needed more training, it was his fault. “Maybe I need a better teacher.” It was easy to get under each other’s skin, although most of the time it was playful banter that morphed into sexual tension. From the bulge in his jeans and the hazy look in his eyes, you knew Duff was dangerously close to claiming you on the sidewalk.

“Temper, temper,” Duff taunts, pushing off the wall with the sole of his boot. The way he eyes you is how he gazes at his victims, like prey, but there’s a side of Duff only you’ve seen. Despite his primal instincts and the nagging urge to have his way with you whenever and wherever, you meant more to him than that. “You have a sharp tongue, sweetheart,” You tilt your head confidently upward, not breaking eye contact as he towers over you. Trailing a gloved hand over your exposed collarbone and up the side of your throat, his fingers slide around to grip the nape of your neck. With untamed hair, crazed eyes, and lips smeared with the blood of the fallen, he’s a madman, a killer. And while the feelings between you aren’t rational, you can’t deny your love for the wild criminal. “Show me what else it can do.”

His lips draw you in like a magnet. Many kisses have been shared between you and Duff, but your heart still beats wildly like it did the very first time. With his hands on either side of your face he keeps you still against him, lips moving in a frenzy before biting down on your lip. He’s rarely gentle, and it drives you mad.

The taste of blood floods your tongue as his tangles with yours, hot, heavy breaths fanning over your face. Your body tingles with fervent need, stomach twisting in passionate knots. As much as you want to enjoy the kiss, the taste of him, you pull back reluctantly, the thoughts in your head overwhelming the rest of your senses.

Duff’s hands cradle your face with a gentle touch. He eyes you with a hard look, a look that warns not to lie. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

The words spin around in your brain. Did you really need more training? In only six short months, Duff taught you everything he knew. You followed his lessons, mimicked his every movement, practiced until your muscles ached from the pain. “Am I disappointing you?”

Duff’s eyebrows furrow. His hands fall to your waist, tugging your hips firmly against him. “Disappointing me? Hardly. Sweetheart, you amaze me.”

“But you said I need more training.”

He chuckles softly. “And you do. That’s not a bad thing. But you’ve already come so far. Just a few months ago you were a dainty little thing who loved watching romance movies and baking cookies on Friday nights. Now you can shoot a gun with your eyes closed.”

“And you were just getting out of prison,” Snaking your arms around the back of Duff’s neck, you pull him closer to you, noses brushing tenderly. If it weren’t for Duff’s inmate taking the blame for the murder, he still would have been staring at the prison walls. How they were able to fool the system into letting Duff go was unfathomable, but he was here with you now. They had let a man guilty of first degree murder walk free, and that man turned into one obsessed with death. Along the way he found you, recruited you as his companion, and now couldn’t picture a world where you weren’t by his side. “I was smitten with you from the moment we met. And I knew you were trouble. I just didn’t care.”

“And look at us now,” Duff grins, stealing a quick kiss. Tendrils of wavy blond hair tickle your cheeks when he dips down to your lips. You never understood why he felt the need to steal them. Anything he wanted, you gave willingly. The rest of the world saw his demented and damned soul. You were fortunate to know every complex piece of him, but not all of them were rooted in evil. His love for you was genuine, unwavering, quite possibly his only redeeming quality. “America’s Most Wanted.”

Your head snaps over to the sound of an apartment door closing. Jogging down the steps and onto the pavement, a man untangles a green leash before hooking it onto his dog. The word screams in your head. Target.

Duff is already smirking when you look back at him. He gives you an encouraging nod; You dig into the back pocket of your jeans, pulling out the boxcutter with a sly smile. “Go get ‘em, sweetheart.”

[neverendingstories00]

Past The Point Of No Return (Ch.5)

Summary: After the kiss, tensions are rising between you and Safin. While on a shopping trip, you try to make an escape but fail. Upon hearing this, Safin is not pleased with your behavior.

Word Count: 4.2K

Warnings: Smut (fades to black)

A/N: This chappie is a...roller coaster. Were half way throguh this fic already 😳 I was blasting Lana Del Rey while writing this and she really inspired the story. Here’s my spotify playlist for this fic. I love reading your comments btw, they make my day! Just wanna warn that this is my first time writing smut (that I have published), so forgive me if it sucks.  I really hope you guys enjoy this! 😌

You waked up to the sounds of the waves crashing onto the shore. You rub the sleep off your eyes as your body refused  to move out of its comfortable pose. Looking at the clock, it read ten o’clock. You hated sleeping in so late. Rolling out of bed, you push your hair back to go use the bathroom. The bags under your eyes had been fading away. Instead of feeling on edgy, you felt calm. You were Safin’s prisoner, but he spoiled you with expensive weekend trips and jewelry that cost more than your life on the black market.

After cleaning yourself up, you walked out of the bathroom and noticed a pair of clothes on a wooden loveseat. It was a pair of high-waisted khaki shorts, a light blue collared buttondown, and nude Venetian mules. You didn’t have many clothes to bring, so you assumed Safin had made you an outfit to wear. It wasn’t as exotic or revealing as your dinner outfit.

As you dressed, you could still imagine Safin’s hands all over you. He was so hungry and possessive of you. The way his calloused hands squeezed your back and traveled down your thighs made you shudder. You would never admit it to anyone, but you secretly savored the attention. Nobody had ever kissed you like that, let alone treat you in such a way. Safin made you feel all kinds of emotions you had bottled up over the years. Your hand traveled to your neck to see a red spot on your collarbone. It was pink and red mixed together. You dind’t remember Safin’s kiss that well since your eyes were closed as Safin overtook your body. Sighing, your disappointed with yourself. You couldn’t fall in love with the man who wanted to kill your friends and family if you didn’t fall in love with him. You finish buttoning your blouse and tuck it into your shorts, walking downstairs to the kitchen.

You walk out and feel the sun shine on your skin and the Medtaerrian breeze in your hair. It’s another beautiful day on the island. You see Safin sitting at a table, outlooking the beautiful sea. He sees you and turns, a smile on his face.

“Good morning, y/n. How did you sleep?”

Snappin out of your trace, your cheeks burn. There Safin is, the man who kissed and threatened you. Trying to act normal, you walk over and take a seat across from him.

“Well. How about yourself?”

“Wonderful, actually,” Safin responded in his silky voice. “It would have been much better if you were next to me though.”

Great. That’s all Safin needed to say to make you feel uncomfortable. Your cheeks burn as you look into the sea to conceal your face. “What a shame, Safin.Truly.”

“One day you will...I know of it.” Safin replied, a low growl in his voice. You rolled your eyes.

It was just one kiss, right?

As y/n finished her oatmeal, Safin looked up at her outfit. That woman could pull off any look, a scandalous dress or tomboyish island outfit. Your blouse had been unbuttoned slightly, showing the subtle sucking spot on your collerbone. Ah, how he longed to taste y/n’s skin again. She bit her red lips to conceal her pleasured moans. He had longed the touch of a woman. Even if y/n had kissed him, he still wasn’t satifesed. He wanted more, and he wanted y/n now.

Shifting in his sit, he rested his cheek in the calm of his hand. “Would you still like to go shopping?”

“Yes,” She answered. “I’d like to see the island...”

“Anything for you, my dear.”

Safin couldn’t tell if Y/n hated or loved the nicknames he gave her. But this was the first time he noticed her cheeks turn red as she rubbed her chin. Just being near her, sitting across from her, was making him aroused. At the dinner last night, Safin couldn’t control himself. He nearly had lost himself when he had asked y/n for a kiss, in which she sparingly agreed to. He could have had his way with her last night, but he couldn’t. As much as he wanted her, Safin wanted and needed to be loved by her. Y/n already thought of him as a monster. Even someone such as himself couldn’t force himself upon anyone.

Being around y/n was going to be Safin’s ultimate downfall.

-----

For a small island, the seaside town that inhabited it was full of luxurious stories. It reminded you of a Medterrian Bond street with high end stores such as Burberry and Louis Vuitton. It was overwhelming, so Safin guided you. It turned out Safin was filthy rich from his Spectre days. You should have realized that, considering that the man had resdegined a former Submarine Pen on a privately owned island.

You would have been fine with a normal shop with basic items that weren’t overpriced. But of course, Safin had decided to be extra and take you to the most expensive places in the town. You tried to tell him you were fine with any store, but he simply pulled you close and purred, “Only the best for my beautiful wife.”

Those words rung through your head. They pissed you off for sure. Safin knew how to get right under your skin, it was his job after all.

After a few hours of shopping, you were definitely feeling exhausted. You insisted that you had enough clothes, but Safin wanted to take you to every store he could. Safin made you hold his arm as you walked around the city. You should have hated being around him. But deep inside of, you enjoyed the attention. The attention that you knew no man was ever going to give you. Maybe he did truly love you and want someone to rule the world with. But it couldn’t be you. You two were polar opposites. He was an Anarchist, and you were a cyrptographer. You were supposed to enemies, not lovers.

Stopping in brought back thousands of memories. You and your mother use to shop there as a child, bringing back a dose of nostalgia. Moneypenny, your coworker, brought most of her wardrobe from the store. When you started out, a student fresh out of university, she had been kind enough to let you borrow some of her clothes when you didn’t have a lot of money. Even four years later, you still didn’t have the money to buy all of the clothes Safin had bought for you.

Safin decided to look around the store for himself, which let you have some time to try some outfits on. Safin had been extra enough to rent out the whole fucking store for you and him. The poor saleswoman who approached you looked like she was scared shitless. Had Safin done this before? Most likely, you thought.

Most of the clothes you picked were sweaters and trousers, but you decided to pick up a dress for a change. It was a white and black tweed dress that went an inch above your knee. Of course, the zipper on the back wouldn’t budge. You envied the way the double oh’s dressed, whether it be there lavish suits or designer thigh-high boots. Wearing the dress made you feel a little better about yourself, and less masculine.

There was a small knock on the door. You assumed it was the poor saleswoman who kept bringing your clothes. You felt horrible for her and tried to cut her some slack. Spinning on your heel, “Alexa, I’m ok-”

“It’s just me, actually,” A silky voice stated. It was none other than Safin. His eyes scaled her body, noticing the short dress and the how it hugged your thighs. His cock twitched in his pants among the sit, biting his lip. “You look...wow...”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” You huffed to look in the mirror. God, you felt like a secretary in the dress. It was far too fancy for someone such as yourself. Heck, you could barely even fit into it. Just as you were to fend Safin away, he calmly asked, “Do you want help with your dress? The back..”

Looking back at Safin, your confused at what he’s implying before you realize he’s asking to help zip us your dress. Your cheeks burn red, giving him a small nod before you looked away in utter embarrassment.

Safin didn’t disrespect your space and was gentle with you. You noticed his hands were shaky and sweaty. As Safin pulled the zipper up, you felt his breath twitch against your neck sending shivers down your spine. Once he finished, the two of you looked in the mirror in front of you. His greenish-blue orbs traveled down your body, a small smirk on his face. He pushed some of your hair back so he could see the dress better. “The dress shows off your body well, my beautiful wife. Shall I buy it for you?”

Instead of responding, you stand there looking in the mirror. Your feeling all types of emotions; anger, sadness, fear, everything. Being around Safin was so discordant. You wanted to love him, but you hated him more than anything in the world. Yet a man you hated was obsessed with you and even wanted to make you his bride no matter what.

Safin’s hands snaked on your hips before beginning to suck at your throat. He brought your body close to his hips, his kisses becoming more of a craving than a passion. That was your breaking point. Pushing him off, you turn around as tears prick at your eyes. You block out his pleas to come back and bolt right out of the door of the store, wanting to lose him. Your not thinking straight at the momment as you usher through the crowds of the streets to escape from Safin. All you wanted at the moment was to be alone with your thoughts and the monster that you were falling in love with.

After what seemed like minutes of speed walking, you end up on a peaceful street full of small stores and no tourists. The only noise is were the locals talking in Greek. You walk down the street, feeling emotional. The world was spinning as your vision blurred. Wiping your eyes, you feel a wet sensation form on your eyes. Why were you crying? You hated all of this and just wanted to go home. You wished that you had never found those damn codes and fallen into Safin’s cursed trap.

As you drag your feet across the stones, you turn your head to see an empty newsstand with newspapers and television. This was the first time in months you had seen the news. You always wondered what was happening in the world. All of it had been in Greek, but you could manage to read through a few words. America was failing with the pandemic, Anarchy was rampant in post soviet countries, and M16.

M16. M16. M16.

Upon seeing that name, you blink twice. There was no way. Your brain was freaking out. As you read the article, it had stated that London was under control with the protests thanks to the agents of M16. It had been reported that the anonymous leader, who now had a name Safin, tried to bring down M16 but had failed too. Mallory had left an interview, stating that no matter what they were going to find Safin and bring peace to Europe. A smile curved on your lips. There was hope. No longer would you sit around and wait to be saved. You were going to save yourself from Safin.

Unexpectedly, a hand grabs your wrist and yanks you. Turning over, your eyes meet with enraged blue ones. It was none other than Safin. A few pieces of his neatly gelled hair were now in his face. You had only seen Safin pissed off once before, and it hadn’t been a pretty sight. Safin began to pull you down the street and back to were he had parked his Black Landrover. You pulled back against him, but he simply put you into the car and began to drive with no words spoken.

You were certainly in a lot of shit.

-----

“Let go of me!” You chided, ripping your arm away from him. He had thrown you into your bedroom. Safin was beyond pissed that you had run away from him. He cursed at you the whole car ride, making all kinds of threats to your face.

“You foolish little girl,” He hissed, pushing his hair back as he walked paced the room. You watched him like a hawk, glancing at his every move. Safin was more pissed off than he had been last time. “You think you can leave?”

“I’m not your property! You treat me like I’m a child or some prize to be won.”

Safin walked back to you and badgered, “I do not! When I saved you, you were supposed to fall in love with me. Be mine and only mine. I took you from them and gave you a better life and opportunity, and what am I met with? An ungrateful little girl. I spoiled you, gave you a room, respected your space, gave you time, and yet you still hate me. All I wanted was for you to love me. I’m sick of waiting, I have been too good to you. You will be my dutiful wife, whether you like it or not.”

You snorted at his response. All Safin was doing was fueling your anger. “God, your so full of yourself! You sit on a pedestal and think of yourself was superior to everybody around you. Your like a spoiled little brat. When someone doesn’t follow your orders, all you do is throw a temper tantrum. You want me to be scared of you, but truly...I won’t ever be.”

Crawling off of the bed, you slowly walked towards him to get in his face. Your smiling, rubbing it into his face. “What are waiting for? Marry me. I don’t care. You’ve ruined my whole life. But let me warn you.”

“No matter what, I will never love you. I don’t care about how much you try or care. I would rather be married and wait for the day M16 takes you and your horrid men six feet under.”

Safin’s eyebrows are furrowed as he watched your every move. His eyes want to say something, but he can’t. He’s at a loss for words. He had hit a dead end. Out of all the women he had met, you were different. You were stubborn and usually told it how it was. Safin loved your mouth, but there was no denying you were a handful.

Safin’s response was his lips, smashing into yours. His hands wrapped around you, holding you close. You want to fight back and tell him to get off, but your body (unstable) wants a touch. It needs touch, not talk. Your hands cup his cheeks to steady your position. He walked backwards and pushed you onto the bed as his hands traveled up your skirt. His long fingers pulled the skirt until your underwear became exposed.

“Do you want this?” Safin panted, looking down at you. Seeing him on top of him, he’s truly a stunning man. His velvety voice was making you wet. Instead of sounding pissed off, he sounded calm and even caring.

“Shut up, please.” Your hand traveled to his cheek, gently patting it. “I-”

Two of his fingers enter your clitoris, causing you to bite your lip. It was a painful reaction at first, but than became pleasurable. You could no longer hide your pleasure and let out a small moan. “N-need it.”

“You are soaking, my love.” Safin purred. His pace was slow at first, but soon he picked up the pace. He loved hearing your moans and how your fingers dug into his back. “I’m surprised you hadn’t slept with any of the men at M16. Always turning them down, left and right. That is my good girl. I would have killed them anyways.”

Safin loves seeing your face and how beautiful you look with your flushed cheeks and lip biting. All he wanted was to that short dress of your body. He pulled his fingers slowly out of you, letting you take a small breather as he tried to undo his belt. Safin couldn’t seem to it until you intervened, unbuckling the buckle and throwing it right to the side. You wiggle out of the dress and throw it to the side, revealing that you weren’t wearing a bra. Safin notices this sight as his hands travel all over your body, feeling every piece of exposed skin.

“Love, your glowing.” He smileD, pulling his pants down. His whole body was exposed. It was covered in scars and wrinkles, but you thought he was dashing. Safin wasn’t a tall man, but he was very lean and well built for a sixty-year-old man. His cock was a decent size. You haven’t had sex in years, but it felt so good to not talk. All you wanted was to feel pleasure and nothing else. Moving your body up, you try to turn over but Safin grabs your shoulder.

“No, No, No. I want to see your pretty face.”

You shift up, placing your hands on his hips for a stern grip. Before starting, Safin placed a tender kiss on your lips. It wasn’t rough, but gentle. He started on your neck and began to move down, kissing your whole body like it was a temple. He muttered sweet things such as “you have such soft skin” or “your skin tastes so sweet”. The Anarchist sucked on your right breast to only hear the moans that turned him on. Your whole body felt like it was about to explode. For the first time in a while, you truly felt calm with not a worry in the world. Safin came back up to look at your face. His cock entered your body. It was an alien feeling, but you enjoyed his thrusts. Moans escaped your mouth as you wrapped a hand on his nape, caressing the unruly chocolate curls on his head. You looked into his multichromatic eyes as he fucked you, getting hungrier by the minute. All you feel is pure bliss in the arms of the Anarchist.

-----

Instead of feeling cold, you feel a warm sensation tingle through your body. Fluttering your eyes open, you see an orange and purple sky as the sun sets over the clear ocean. All you wanted to do was stay in this position for the rest of your life, warm and content. Everything was a blur in your mind. As you attempt to drift back to sleep, you feel a heavyweight on his hip. Tilting your head, you see it’s Safin with his nose in your hair, snoring. Your eyes widened, confused. Was it a dream? It had to be.

Grabbing the covers, you move them off of your body to reveal your naked forms. Safin’s hand was draped over your waist as he held your free hand in his sleep. A silent fuck escaped your mouth, looking down at the hand.

You had just fucked the world’s most infamous Anarchist.

Instead of overthinking as you usually did, you simply laid there in a state of stupor. Your thoughts could barely process anything at the moment. It all seemed like a nightmare, but it was real. All to real.

Moving Safin’s hand off of your body, you rolled out of bed and tiptoed to the balcony, grabbing the nearest shirt to protect yourself from the breeze. It wasn’t a dream. Safin was sleeping in the same bed with you, nude, holding you. This situation was far from normal. The shirt you had thrown on was Safin’s shirt that smelt of expensive perfume. All you had remembered was finding that M16 was still active and Safin dragging you back his car. You had fought on the way back tot he villa and he dragged you to your room, scolding you. He demanded to get married to you. At that point, you didn’t care. He was trying to break you, but there was no chance he was going to. Everything had become a blur. All you could remember was his lips crashing into yours before it all went dark.

Your feel your limbs go numb as your heart drops into your stomach. The man you had just had sex with was responsible for thousands of deaths and riots all across Europe. Yet here you were, getting spoiled and fucked by him as the world burned in your eyes. A hand covers your mouth to conceal a sob. Lukewarm tears stream down your cheeks. Your horrified with how low you had gone. You went from being kidnapped and refusing to love Safin, and you had just had sex with him.

Not counting the minutes, you simply stood, horrified with yourself. Safin was like a forbidden fruit, and his juice was now covered all over your body like blood at a crime scene. Everything was silent until a pair of footsteps followed behind you. You don’t even look because you already knew it was him.

“Over the years, I had my men bring me women.��� He calmly said, acting like it was a casual occurrence. “All kinds, mainly young and scared. I talked to them and comforted them the best they could, but they always refused me. All of them thought that I was going to rape them since I looked like a monster, in which I was. I could have my way with them, but it was far too brutish to do such a thing.”

“Once I left Spectre, I felt like I had everything. But as the years went by, I became lonelier. I yearned not only for a woman’s touch, but someone to care and talk to. I thought I was too repulsive for anyone to find me attractive.” Safin turned to you, looking into your big [y/e/c] eyes. He grabbed your hands, holding them to his chest. “But when I saw you, my whole life changed.”

“I saw you and had to claim you as mine. Save you from all the pain. I never thought you would have come around to me, but you finally came to your senses. I knew you would since your my smart, good girl.”

You remained speechless as Safin pulled your into a hug. No emotion is going through your body. His arm held your lower back as his hands played with your [y/h/], twisting it in his fingers. “I’m so glad you made the right choice, sweet y/n.”

“But,” He whispered in your ear. “If you try and leave me, I will not give you a second warning. M16 may stand, but they will never find us. Even if they do, they know you are mine. You’re far better off working at my side and being my dutiful wife. But any attempted escapes or runaways, I will kill your friends and family to remind you of my love. Understood?”

Safin still held you close, wanting to make sure you had understood. Tears form at your eyes as you looked down, unable to face him in the eyes. His scared fingers lift your chin to look at your face. Seeing the tears, a small sigh escapes his lips as he wiped them away.

“Do not weep, my little dove.” He cooed, caressing your cheek. Your lips quivered, trying to keep it concealed. “I know it hasn’t been the easiest journey. But once we marry, we will look at this and laugh. We will be together...forever.”

“After all,” He planted a gentle kiss on your forehead before looking back at your face, a smile. “You are far past the point of the return now.”

Safin took your hand, leading you back into the bed. Once you get into bed, you feel Safin’s arm snake around your body, his nose his your hair once again. His leg’s topped onto yours, restraining you from moving. He smiled as he took a whiff of your floral hair, planting a small kiss on his neck before dozing back off.

You would have screamed or kicked, but you couldn’t. Not because you weren’t restrained, but because all of the fight that was left in you as gone. Before meeting Safin, your grip on reality was slowly declining. But the small piece you were hanging onto shattered. Now, you were a shell of the women you once were before. Knowing your family was alive and worrying about your safety made tears prick at your eyes. Safin, whether you liked it or not, was going to be your husband. To say that you hated or loved with was mind baffling. You couldn’t hate someone you had just had sex with. But you had to stay alive. For your family, for your friends, for M16, for yourself. Just because he was going to be your husband, didn’t mean you still didn’t despise him. The rumors with Safin were true. He always got what he wanted, when he wanted, no matter what.

Just because Safin had gotten what he wanted didn’t mean that you couldn’t change that.

[thefemdomenchantress]

The Enchantress: Feral

[Once again, what was supposed to be a comedic short concept turns into, well, this. Please enjoy]

Hero: Hmm... I’ve some time between now and my next scheduled assignment. Normally I’d spend it with the princess... But I suppose I’m due for some alone time! I’ll go rough it out in the woods with the wolves.

Enchantress, spying through her crystal ball: Spending your free time alone? Oh ho, not if I have anything to say about it.

The enchantress begins to weave her magic.

Hero: Man, it’s been so long since I’ve gone absolutely feral!

The enchantress ceases casting her spell as she sees the hero remove all of his clothing and begin wandering the woods in the nude. He begins hunching over, a wild look appears in his eyes as he prepares to once again become a beast.

Enchantress: . . . Or, perhaps, I could just let you do your thing, hero...

*** *** ***

The enchantress learns a few things as she watches the strange naked creature for the next several days.

One, there’s something about looking at a man’s bare and round ass that’s totally different and exciting when you’re watching it from below the tree that man is climbing. The enchantress wonders if it’s the athleticism that turns her on, or the frustration that the sunlight never shines enough upon it from that angle, never allowing her to see it in all it’s perfect glory.

One and a half, when you watch a man of the hero’s physique in the wild you soon forget about his abs and pecs, as they seem to blend into the total scenery of erotic wildness that is he himself. The ruggedness and dangerous nature of the wild hero seemed to matter more to the enchantress than his general nudity.

Two, there’s also something oddly sexy about watching a man create plates from clay, mud, and stone. Watching the hero sit on his makeshift floor of sanitized leaves and soot, his legs crossed, carefully rounding out a lump of clay into useful plates and bowls, is surprisingly enjoyable to watch.

Two and a half, the feral hero is more religious. He uses said plates and bowls to make arrangements of his collected vegetables and fruits and seems to pray before them each evening before eating. It seems almost second nature.

Three, even while detached from his civilized nature the feral hero is still a hygienic man. Brushing himself in soot and mud to repel insects, bathing in the nearby rivers...

Four, the feral hero, as it turns out, is well known as a cryptid in these woods. This had clearly not been his first time pulling this charade. After only two days of becoming a wild man nearby towns become alert to his presence. Tales of how “The Man-Beast is Back!” spread, with many preparing traps to capture the creature. The thought of the poor thing being caught in one of their traps and, perhaps, treated like some sort of zoo creature for display is saddening, and yet so alluring...

And finally, the feral hero possesses a quiet aggressiveness she has not seen in her hero before. Far from simple, the feral hero seems more focused, as though the stress of life has melted away leaving room in his mind for more selfish thoughts. Thoughts of food, sleep, crafting, shelter. He chases off fauna and pests like deer and rabbits who would steal his vegetables with a harshness and territorial fervor. He greedily spears fish an will dig for root vegetables even in the territories of other beasts and even monsters. The feral hero is a brute... The enchantress wonders how much of a brute he really is...

After a week and two days, the sight becomes somewhat stale. The enchantress finally decides to spice things up...

*** *** ***

The hero stalks the outskirts of a town. It is on edge, many guards in place to prevent that dreaded “man-beast” that he has become from entering the town, as though he were planning to waltz on up into the town square and steal their daughters. He sighed.

This feral nature was a part of the hero and would always be. Perhaps, if long ago he never found the princess and learned the joys of being civilized, if he never fell pray to her siren song and fell in love, this was the type of man he would have stayed.

Well, no, the hero admitted to himself. He knew that this “man-beast” that he allowed himself to become every now and then was just an exaggeration. A therapeutic temporary escape from reality. He sighed.

Hero, thinking: It’s been fun, but I should head back to where I buried my stuff now. Time to go back to clothes, warm houses, swords and magic.

But as he thought this a sound interrupted his thoughts.

A beautiful voice, humming in the distance, coming from the direction of the river.

He followed the voice...

The singer, a young woman in a cloth skirt and white summer gown, collected water from the river side. Her head was hidden behind a hat that hung behind her head by a ribbon around her neck. Her musical voice humming wordless melodies that captivated the feral hero’s mind and soul...

She turns around... Of course... It’s the enchantress once again.

Enchantress: Oh dear! The man beast. My, you’re not as terrifying as the village men warned.

Hero, thinking: This is ridiculous. I’m ending the charade right now!

But even as he thinks this he still approaches the enchantress with caution. Still thinking like a beast.

Enchantress: You’re even a bit charming, I think. Are you hungry?

She offers a handful of berries. The hero mentally scoffs.

Hero, thinking: Does she think I’m just going to play along?

But as the enchantress places the fruits close to his face he can’t help but accept them. He picks at them and eats them instinctively. She pats his head and strokes him as he does so and he leans into her hands...

Hero, thinking: What’s happening... why can’t I stop?

Enchantress: You’re a really good beast, aren’t you?

Hero, thinking: I’m not... I have to stop now...

But the hero’s voice within his mind becomes softer and softer and soon disappears against his base instincts, as the enchantress continues to tame the feral man.

She hums as she strokes the feral hero’s hair, her hand trailing down his muscular arms. She pushes him down to his knees without him resisting at all...

Enchantress: I know you’re not a bad man beast... I know you’re a good boy.

The hero groaned. He looked up at the enchantress with wide, dazzled eyes as though this were the first time meeting her. To the feral hero, which (with her hypnotic assistance) was taking over the hero, she was the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Even as the hero deep down screamed to resist the seduction the feral hero was hooked.

Enchantress: Well, feral boy? You’ve found a beautiful young lady, all alone with no one to stop you. Aren’t you going to do what the villagers are all afraid you would?

The feral hero shrunk back, shocked at the implication. The enchantress giggled and winked. She wrapped an arm around the hero, comfortingly.

Enchantress: It’s okay, man beast. Take me to your cave, hero. Do whatever you wish to me. I know that you want to.

The enchantress’s alluring scent... Her sublime beauty... She was intoxicating. The hero slowly and carefully scooped her into a bridal carry. The enchantress accepted the embrace, relishing feeling the bare, muscled body she had merely been watching from behind a crystal ball for days.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled at him, dazzling and exciting him more so effortlessly. With her in his arms, and his heart in her hands, the feral man beast took the lovely village lady back to his cave in the woods.

Beneath the star filled sky that night was smoke from a campfire. On a floor of softened soot and grass, skirts and gown thrown away onto the dirt. Among the chirping of crickets and cicadas and the coo’s of night birds rang the ecstatic screams of a young woman and the grunts and guttural cries of a beastly man. The strong and aggressive feral hero made wild love to the tender village lady all night long.

*** *** ***

[I felt a bit uncomfortable writing this one. Did I accidentally play into some stereotypes to the end here? Let me know if you think I did]

[vmficrecs]

Every school has an obligatory psychotic jackass. He’s ours.

It has been one year since The Incident. In celebration of this beautiful, snarky, dynamic, passionate, beloved, smug, asshole, essential, etc., etc., character I have complied a lengthy (but by no means exhaustive) collection of some of my personal favorite fics focusing on Logan, or on his relationships, or fics that i just think do something neat in terms of Logan/his journey/his character. ❤️

Previously on vmficrecs: 

dark_roast, “Fish Out of Water,” Mature, Post Season 1 AU 

Logan opts to leave Neptune, and spend summer vacation with his grandparents.

Notes: This AU is essential reading if you love Logan. His characterization is nearly perfect, and the premise of the fic is endlessly engaging and smart. 

wily_one24, “Sleep, Perchance...,” Mature, Pre-series AU

Logan thaws towards Veronica and sets out to save her.

Notes: I want to eat this fic. If you’ve never read it, read it-- it will linger endlessly inside of your brain in the best way possible. So many of the things Logan does or says in this fic exist in a very tangible and palpable manner for me, it’s that good. I think about it constantly. 

ghostcat, “What We Have in Common,” Teen, Post Season 3 AU 

Weevil Navarro, his incredibly poor choice of a research paper prepping locale and the close talking, finger waving jackass that interrupts and effectively hijacks his night. Set in 2010, three years after The Bitch is Back.

ghostcat, “A Trace of Meaning,” Teen, Pre-series 

13 year-old Logan Echolls and 14 year-old Veronica Mars wait at the Kane Estate for their held-up sleepover hosts to show up. 

theohara, “Rich Dirt,” Mature, Pre-series AU 

And Logan wouldn’t let you have anything. He’d danced over to you and smirked in your face and twirled your plastic cup right out of your hand and cooed that just because your Daddy wasn’t sheriff anymore didn’t give you license to break the law, and he’d acted all shocked with his hand over his mouth and he’d laughed like breaking glass and nanced off with your drink.

anjou, “Into the Blue,” Mature, Post Season 1 

It’s almost summer, and Logan is sinking into the blue.

flyingcarpet, “Mexicali Blues,” Mature, Post Season 3 AU

When he reaches the water he doesn’t hesitate, just keeps walking until he can duck his head under and start to swim away from shore, letting the salt and the waves wash away the residue that Neptune’s left on his skin.

absolutelyiris, “Truth for a Dream,” Teen, Future Fic (Pre-movie)

Fleet Week 2012. A reformed bad boy turned sailor and a former party girl turned career woman meet in a bar…

Notes: A LOGAN AND PARKER FRIENDSHIP FIC!!! pure fucking delight 

absolutelyiris, “Come Around,” Mature, Future AU 

A woman travels the world over in search of what she needs and returns home to find it.

Notes: I will talk about this fic until the day that I day, and then I will still talk about it. One of my absolute favorites. Pure gold Logan/Keith dynamic. I would 10/10 die for Razia. and, of course, the l/v is so damn good 

TheLastGoodGolfish, “The Phenomenal Pixie, #1,” Teen, AU 

Veronica is a masked avenger who stalks the streets of Neptune. Logan is the intrepid reporter who’s on the story.

Notes: PERFECT. PERFECT PERFECT PERFECT. also-- “That’s ridiculous. My favorite person is a sorority girl.” in my head, rent free, and i am forever indebted. 

bryrosea, “Waste of Breath / A Quartz Contentment,” Mature, Post Season 2 to TDTL 

Part one: Logan Echolls, the nine years, and the Navy. Part two: Veronica Mars, the nine years, and a new normal.

Notes: I am recommending specifically “Waste of Breath” for my boy, although Veronica’s piece is excellent as well. 

always_winter, “Written Out,” Teen, Season 2 AU 

Duncan has some residual guilt and Logan wants to be left out of the story.

always_winter, “White Combs and Sweet Honey,” Mature, Season 1

Even when Aaron is trying to be a good father, there’s still a lot he’s doing wrong.

Notes: This fic is so tender to me!!! A beautiful Logan and Aaron piece. 

sadiekate, “Grand Canyon,” PG-13, Season 1 to Future AU 

Three friends reminisce several years in the future, snarkily and pointlessly.

sinaddict, “Necrosis,” Explicit, Season 2 AU 

Death in bits and pieces, denial as a religion… Or ‘normal’ in Neptune.

sowell, “Surviving the Wreck,” Explicit, Season 3 AU 

Nothing’s ever simple with Veronica Mars. Weevil’s day at sea gets a little complicated.

Notes: THIS FUCKING FIC!!!! i love everything about it and especially at this moment in time, the part where logan gives weevil a blow job but weevil notes that somehow, in spite of this, logan retains the upper hand. this fic is world class and i am grateful everyday for it 

theohara, “Broken Toys,” NC-17, Pre series AU 

One glance across a street saves Lilly Kane’s life. It changes everything; it changes nothing.

Notes: This is the most heartbreaking Veronica Mars’ fanfic ever. I have such a deep love for it. It takes Lilly’s character and Logan/Veronica’s relationship to places I don’t ever think they would go and yet it works in this and it works so damn well. a truly devastating and beautiful au 

fluffernutter8, “The Ninety Nine Percent,” Teen, Post Season 3 AU 

Junior year of college, Logan gets some news that proves that no matter how hard he tries, life is just going to keep throwing him curve-balls. Post season 3, non movie canon compliant.

youcallitwinter, “gravity is gonna keep you tied down to this city,” Teen, Post Season 3 to TDTL 

[your life in extended parenthesis] the lone neon nights and the ache of the ocean, and the fire that was starting to spark. From the love to the lightning and the lack of it. 

Notes: please don't fall out of love with me, okay? don’t you dare give up on me. I DIE EVERY FUCKING TIME youcallitwinter is a force with all of her writings, but this one.......my god every single bit about it is fucking flawless 

petpluto, “Of Scars & Consequences,” Teen, Post-series AU 

Almost a decade in the future, Logan's still a little messed up. And Veronica's still a little closed off. They make it work.

julietbravo, “one brutal thing after another,” Teen, Pre-series to Season 1 

These rich boys think they can get away with anything, don’t they.

querulousgawks, “there should be stars for great wars like ours,” Teen, AU 

It’s gotta be some Alliance mind game, a holdover, the Operative’s last trick: Logan’s old secrets manifesting everywhere around them. Where are you, how are you doing this, he wants to scream, but he doesn’t know which ghost he’d be railing at.

SilverLining2k6, “Sometimes (You Can’t Make It On Your Own),” Teen, Season 1 AU 

Silly Duncan stopped taking his meds. Now, one dead Fitzpatrick later, Logan and Veronica need to get him out of town. Too bad they hate each other.

SilverLining2k6, “Control,” Teen, Pre-series AU 

Don’t you mess with a little girl’s dreams. ‘Cause she’s liable to grow up mean. Pre-series. Oneshot. - A twisted little tale of hate and revenge.

Notes: CONTROL!!!!! I love Control so much, it’s one of the first fics I ever read for the fandom and one of the finest. The Logan that exists in this is sooo good and his relationship with Veronica is deeply flawed & wonderful. M is in the process of writing a remix to Control (more in-depth emotion) and I for one am foaming at the fucking mouth every day about it. 

nevertothethird, “Reunions,” Teen, Post Series AU 

Sometimes it just takes a little longer to get things right. Two high school reunions and a birthday party should do the trick.

youcallitwinter, “you give love a bad name,” Teen, Season 2 AU 

“Hey, did you guys know there was a sensitive poet-type hiding behind this hard exoskeleton of expensive alcohol and bitter cynicism?” In which Logan Echolls is, well, Logan Echolls.

scandalpants, “Something to Remember,” Mature, Post Series AU 

Facing a separation, Logan and Veronica spend their last night together exchanging gifts.

Notes: I am always in a goddamn state about this fic. Logan jacking off in front of Veronica at her request? Yes, thank you please. thank you so much 

leurocrystal, “Take Your Time,” Teen, Post Season 2 

Keith doesn’t know how to look at or touch his daughter for the first time in his life.

petpluto, “We Are Nowhere, And It’s Now,” Mature, Series AU 

“You know there is another way of looking at this, Logan. If you’d still been together, you might be dead too." Logan and Lilly both die on October 3rd. But for Veronica, it’s not like they’re gone. And she still works to solve their murders.

absolutelyiris, “Delay,” Teen, Post TTDL

Logan reflects on his first Christmas with Veronica after a ten year separation, as well as how his life has changed with her absence.

New to vmficrecs: 

Christmas in Arkham Author: dark_roast Pairing: Logan Rating: Teen Genre: Hurt/Comfort, A Really Good Hug  Setting: Season 2 Spoilers: 2.09, “My Mother, the Fiend” Chapters: 1 Word Count: 10128 Status: Complete Summary: Sequel to Fish Out of Water. Logan spends christmas with his grandparents.  Notes: This is, full stop, my favorite Veronica Mars fanfiction ever. I am so protective of this fic that part of me doesn’t even want to give it a formal place on the blog, which is ridiculous because I’m sure plenty of people have already read it and obviously it’s so good that I want people to read it but....this belongs to me, somehow, like I feel like it’s mine that’s how much I love it. ANYWAY possessiveness aside-- Every word, every sentence, every punctuation mark in this fic is perfect, devastating insight into Logan’s character. Absolutely beautiful and wonderful and every other good thing. 

The Teeth by the Shoulder Author: ghostcat Pairing: Fab Four, Logan/Lilly, Veronica/Duncan  Rating: Teen Genre: Friendship, Angst  Setting: Pre-series Spoilers: 1.01, “Pilot”  Chapters: 3 Word Count: 17273 Status: Complete Summary: Two couples, two friendships. The Fab Four in three Octobers. Notes: WE’VE NEVER FUCKING RECOMMENDED THE TEETH BY THE SHOULDER BEFORE?????? HOW IS THAT EVEN POSSIBLE OH MY GOD jesus this is one of the greatest fanfictions ever written. three pre-series explorations into the fab four friendship and it is impossibly good. i am especially in love with the logan/lilly in this fic (the first chapter!!!!) and as always special care is given to exploring the logan + veronica dynamic. the third chapter will break your fucking heart so bad in the best way 

Seven Times Logan Echolls Went to Jail Author: sowell Pairing: Logan/Veronica, Veronica/Piz  Rating: Teen Genre: Angst, Romance, Logan Echolls is a Little Shit   Setting: (Post) Season 3 AU  Spoilers: 3.12, “There’s Got to Be a Morning After Pill” and 3.16, “Un-American Graffiti”  Chapters: 1 Word Count: 6701 Status: Complete Summary: Who thinks Logan behind bars is sexy? I do, I do! // Logan goes to jail and calls Veronica to bail him out. Again and again and again and again.  Notes: WE HAVEN’T DONE THIS BEFORE EITHER???? oh my god!! I remember finding this one a few months before the movie came out and i would just lay in bed in the dark and re-read it endlessly. and then i left it alone for a few years and when i went back to it holy shit it undid me all over again. perfect logan and veronica relationship. p e r f e c t!!! i firmly believe this is exactly what shape their relationship would’ve taken if veronica hadn’t cut and run 

Love is Just a Four-letter Word Author: bigboobedcanuck Pairing: Logan/Veronica, Keith, Weevil  Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort Setting: Future AU  Spoilers: 1.12, “Clash of the Tritons”  Chapters: 1 Word Count: 1753 Status: Complete Summary: Set a few years down the road from high school. Logan hits rock bottom. Keith and Veronica help him back up. Notes: Lynn’s body turns up and it is fucking DEVASTATING. A short piece that’s told from Keith’s POV (anyone who knows me knows how much of a sucker I am for Keith + Logan interaction) and holy hell Logan is so good in it and I think about it all the fucking time 

Serendipity  Author: TheLastGoodGoldfish  Pairing: Logan/Veronica, Veronica/Piz, Carrie, Gia, Stu Cobbler, Ensemble Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Detective-ing  Setting: Post Season 3  Spoilers: 3.20, “The Bitch is Back” and The Movie  Chapters: 4 (out of a planned 6, fingers crossed!!!) Word Count: 59763 Status: Complete Summary: During her sophomore year at Hearst, Veronica takes on your run-of-the-mill blackmail case: the clients hate her, the evidence is impossible to destroy, and her ex turns out to be a bit of a distraction, but Veronica is a sucker for a damsel-in-distress. Even if the damsel is an intoxicated, pissed off Carrie Bishop. Notes: I AM HIGH PITCHED SCREAMING. Transplanting the movie plot to this timeframe works tremendously and TLGG’s execution is fucking perfect. Carrie is a powerhouse in this fic and god, Logan is such a honey it in which is why it is being recc’d for him. Him practically letting Carrie move in with him and doing his damnedest to protect Carrie and Gia (much to Veronica’s chagrin) is so, so important to me and I love him so much. 

The Phenomenal Pixie - Interlude #1 - “Bugs”  Author: TheLastGoodGoldfish Pairing: Logan/Veronica, OC’s  Genre: Humor, Fluff, Logan and Veronica Are Smarter Than You  Setting: AU (Season 3)  Spoilers: uhhh n/a Chapters: 1 Word Count: 5072 Status: Complete Summary: Dating a superhero poses a unique set of challenges. Notes: Tiny sequel to The Phenomenal Pixie which you absolutely must read first (and is recommended above) because it’s a fucking delight. Logan is incredible in this fic and I would die for him, like always. The part where Steve can sense Logan is thinking about punching him in the face-- a million chefs kisses. 

The Medusa Jewel  Author: TheLastGoodGoldfish Pairing: Logan/Veronica  Genre: Established Relationship Bliss, Fluff  Setting: MKAT Spoilers: MKAT  Chapters: 1 Word Count: 5336 Status: Complete Summary: Logan and Veronica's new neighbor is a writer. Notes: is my TLGG obsession shining through? good because it fucking should be. The Logan/Veronica in this relationship is so sweet and perfect and is 100% my reality and i would like to bathe in this fic and live in it forever as is my right.

Drowning Together Author: bryrosea Pairing: Logan/Veronica Genre: Romance, Hurt/Comfort Setting: Season 3 Spoilers: 3.07, “Of Vice and Men” Chapters: 1 Word Count: 897 Status: Complete Summary: AU of the confrontation scene from 3x07: Of Vice and Men (Logan and Veronica both need a hug) Notes: Absolute wonderful insight and even some reconciliation into a canonical season three fight. Logan calming down while Veronica falls apart as they hug is so important to me. 

Interrupt Us  Author: bryrosea Pairing: Logan/Veronica Genre: Romance,  Hijinks, They Want To Fuck So Bad  Setting: Post TDTL Spoilers: through TDTL  Chapters: 1 Word Count: 17223 Status: Complete Summary: Logan Echolls is home from deployment. Time to cue the sweeping movie montage, right? Notes: Logan and Veronica try to have sex everywhere and it is my life force. The car scene when they get pulled over and Logan instinctively hiding under Veronica’s desk....god i love everyone in this bar

Ready to Go Author: Amberina Pairing: Logan/Duncan; Veronica  Genre: Friendship, Romance, Angst Setting: Post Season 1  Spoilers: not obvious but 1.22, “Leave it to Beaver”  Chapters: 1 Word Count: 6346 Status: Complete Summary: "Let's leave. Let's go. What's left in Neptune for us anyway?" (AKA Duncan, Logan and Veronica have wacky adventures on the road! Also angst.) Notes: Logan getting hissy and storming off from the car while Duncan and Veronica just watch him and then calling a taxi once he’s out of their sight is PEAK logan. I love boyfriends, even if they’re angst-ing in this, and they big time are. 

Nashville On My Mind Author: hjcallipygian Pairing: Logan, Veronica, Duncan Genre: Friendship, Hijinks  Setting: Post Season 1 AU Spoilers: 1.22, “Leave it to Beaver” Chapters: 1 Word Count: 1659 Status: Complete Summary: Every year, they take a road trip together. This year, it's to Nashville, Tennessee. Notes: i just spent forty minutes trying to find this fic to the point where i was genuinely concerned i had hallucinated it. it’s so fucking good. a sequel/prequel of sorts to grand canyon by sadiekate (recc’d in the previously section). logan is a mess and by god do i love him 

Six Times Logan Echolls Got Wet Author: bryrosea, CarolineShea, ghostcat, kmd0107, marshmallowtasha, SilverLining2k6 Pairing: Logan/Veronica Rating: Teen Genre: Romance, Friendship, Hijinks Setting: Everywhere Spoilers: All series to MKAT  Chapters: 6 Word Count: 11568 Status: Complete Summary: aka: The Wet Henley ChroniclesSix stories in which we probably give Logan Echolls pneumonia, inspired by the movie's infamous wet henley. Set variously across the series and post-MKAT. Notes: each chapter is written by a different author, they’re all good but bryrosea’s chapter and silvery’s chapter are my favorites. set during the summer between season 1 & 2 and post season three respectively they do such a great job dealing with the fractious and tumultuous nature of Logan/Veronica’s relationship at the time and i love it so much

A Little Dysfunctionality Goes A Long Way  Author: fluffernutter8 Pairing: Logan/Veronica Rating: Teen Genre: ANGST with a side of fucking ANGST, happy ending but jesus   Setting: Post Season 3 AU  Spoilers: 1.22, “Leave it to Beaver”  Chapters: 1 Word Count: 2878 Status: Complete Summary: Despite their history, Logan and Veronica might be somewhere on the brink of normal. A few years post season 3. Notes: i just read this for the first time 07/13/20 at 9:08pm because when i asked shelby for her favorite logan fics she included this one. i am fucking dead now and-- there’s nothing else to say about it. i’m just fucking dead. for YEARS i have said that nobody with the username fluffernutter8 should be able to write shit this goddamn emotional and yet, time and time again, i find myself here fuckign wrecked and furious about it 

these are just ghosts that broke my heart before i met you Author: theviolonist  Pairing: Logan, Veronica, Carrie, Dick  Rating: Teen Genre: Introspection, Angst, I Love Logan   Setting: Pre Movie & Movie  Spoilers: Movie  Chapters: 1 Word Count: 1326 Status: Complete Summary: In the army they say, don't think of the target as a person, otherwise you won't have the guts to pull the trigger. Notes: fuck, you guys. this one is so beautiful. an exploration into logan’s grief and him trying to move on and it cuts like a damn knife because he can never really do it but fuck he wants to so bad and [lucas scott voice] that’s gotta mean something, right? truly so so wonderful 

Fugue Author: vaeran Pairing: Logan/Veronica, Logan/Lilly, Dick  Rating: Teen Genre: Angst, hopeful ending  Setting: Post Season 1 Spoilers: 1.22, “Leave it to Beaver”  Chapters: 1 Word Count: 4137 Status: Complete Summary: It's something he refuses to let go because it defines who he is and what he has become. Notes: deviates from the PCHer confrontation on the bridge, which means logan takes a little longer to come around to reconciliation with veronica. it’s perfect and i particularly love the logan/lilly in this, he’s hurt but still so impossibly and eternally in love with her 

One Flew Over the Echolls Nest Author: Wynn Pairing: Logan/Veronica, Duncan Rating: Teen Genre: Angst, Friendship Setting: Post Season 1 AU  Spoilers: 1.22, “Leave it to Beaver” Chapters: 1 Word Count: 1507 Status: Complete Summary: Open wide and see what's inside. A bridge and a bed and Veronica. Logan finds himself in a mental institution after the events of "Leave it to Beaver." Veronica, Duncan, and Logan's psychiatrist attempt to help. Notes: so sad and so good!!! the part where Logan’s psychiatrist asks him when the last time he was happy was fucking wrecks me everytime!! 

Free at last  Author: querulousgawks Pairing: Logan, Weevil, Aaron Rating: Teen Genre: Frenemies, They Are Boyfriends Setting: Season 2 Spoilers: 2.09, “My Mother, the Fiend”  Chapters: 1 Word Count: 1242 Status: Complete Summary: Logan and Weevil and fire go a long way back. A flashback scene interrupts their Season 2 meeting in the Neptune Grand. Notes: I LOVE EVERY SINGLE THING ABOUT THIS SO GOD DAMN MUCH 

The Right Shade of Red Author: ghostcat Pairing: Trina, Logan, Aaron  Rating: Teen Genre: ANGST Setting: Pre-series Spoilers: 1.15, “Ruskie Business”  Chapters: 1 Word Count: 883 Status: Complete Summary: Trina finds her jerky little brother hiding in her closet and does the unexpected thing. (Or, A time Logan trusted Trina) Notes: If you want 883 words to be able to make you feel like you’ve been hit by a truck this is the fic for you! I love the Echolls family dynamics so much, and this one is excellent.