#THE AMOUNT OF TIMES WE SAW HER WEARING A SUSPECT RING ON HER RING FINGER AND ENGAGMEENT RUMORS STARTED AND THIS IS WHAT ENDS UP HAPPENING

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

I need more cregan modern au!!!! I loved the hockey one but what about him being a business person? A hot office romance?

Request: More modern!Cregan pretty pretty please 🥺

This is heavily inspired by Bed chem by Sabrina Carpenter (p.s. This is almost 4k and I did not re-read anything, so I apologize if it's bad)

Warnings: 18+, smut, fingering, dirty talk, elevator action, p + v,

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

You met him at an event hosted by the firm. The company was expanding its operations internationally and opening its first new office in London. To celebrate the new venture, a banquet was organized at the main office in New York. 

Although you’ve been working here for three years, you didn’t know half of the people. You were not the kind of person who befriended her co-workers — other than Baela. She was the granddaughter of the CEO and your office mate when you started working at the firm. Now, you were best friends and roommates. 

‘’I think Jace is going to propose.’’

You snapped your head towards her so quickly you nearly gave yourself whiplash. ‘’What?!’’ 

‘’He has not asked — yet —,’’ Baela continued, her eyes sparkling with excitement, ‘’but I think he’s going to do it soon. Very soon. Should I plan all of my next manis? I don’t want him to propose when I have a chipped sparkly pink polish.’’

‘’When did you ever wear sparkly pink polish?’’ you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Baela shrugged, taking a sip of her drink. ‘’I don’t know. But what I know is that I don’t want sparkly pink polish when I take cute pictures with my engagement ring. My mom will repost it on her socials, and everyone will see my crusty many.’’ 

You couldn’t help but laugh at Baela’s theatrics. 

‘’Do you think we’re going too fast?’’ Her earlier excitement faded into a nervous frown. ‘’We don’t even live together.’’ 

You could see the worry lines forming on her forehead. She wasn’t even engaged, and already she was fretting about the future. You didn’t want to imagine the type of bride she’ll be when Jace will get down on one knee. 

Offering her a kind and reassuring smile, you shook your head. ‘’Too fast would be you getting engaged to your Tinder date after two weeks. You and Jace have been dating for two years. And, when you know, you know.’’

Baela's shoulders relaxed, and she returned your smile. She took another sip of her drink and began telling you about the hot gossip she heard in the bathroom this afternoon. There never was a dull moment with her. 

After a story about a mystery thong found by the coffee machine, you excused yourself and went to get another drink. You suspected it belonged to one of the secretaries or the new intern, Mysaria. You saw her flirting with Baela’s father last week. 

You headed toward the bar, squeezing past a group of laughing executives. When you finally reached the bar, you quickly blurted out your order, eager to get a drink in hand. These work events felt tedious without the right amount of alcohol. 

‘’Just a moment, Miss,’’ the bartender said, nodding toward a tall man standing beside you. ‘’He was there first.’’ 

You turned to the man, who you had genuinely not seen, ready to apologize for cutting in line. He was dressed in a blue-gray button-up shirt and a neatly fitted waistcoat — typical business attire for these events —, and was very good looking. 

He waved the bartender off dismissively. ‘’Serve the lady first. I can wait,’’ he said, his voice deep and rich with a thick accent that immediately caught your attention. This man was not American. 

 Behind the bar, the bartender nodded and began preparing your drink. You turned toward the man you rudely cut in the line and thanked him. It was gentlemanly of him, but he didn’t have to let you go before him.  

He shrugged with a small, easy smile. ‘’It’s no trouble at all.’’ 

There was an effortless charm that radiated from him, pulling all your strings right into his hands. You could feel his eyes drop to your dress, which hugged your curves in all the right places and revealed a bit more cleavage than would be considered appropriate at the office. Not to be outdone, you let your gaze wander too, taking in the man before you — the different colors in his eyes, his neatly cut beard, the way his waistcoat accentuated his broad shoulders. And more inappropriately, he seemed to be packing beneath those trousers.

Your drink was ready too soon, forcing you to go back to Baela to tell her about the man you just met. 

‘’Who’s the guy with the dark hair and the thick accent?’’ you asked, watching from afar as Vaemond Velaryon stopped him and began a conversation. 

Brother to Mr. Velaryon, Vaemond was one of the most loyal pawns of the company. But his views were often sharp and unapologetically sexist, which was why you actively avoided him. If you're looking to stir an argument with someone just for fun, go to him. His quick temper and rigid opinions made him an easy target for a heated argument.

Baela followed you sightline, a knowing smile curling on her lips. The way you asked about him was enough to guess that you fancied him. ‘’That’s Cregan Stark, the managing director of the new firm in London,’’ she explained.

You frowned lightly, your eyes not leaving him. ‘’He’s young to be a managing director, no?’’ 

Baela shrugged. ‘’He’s under thirty, that’s for sure. But I doubt my grandfather would have given him the post if he wasn’t competent.’’

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

You were utterly disappointed when you found out Cregan Stark was not on social media. How were you going to charm your way into his pants if you couldn’t contact him? 

manifest seeing him again. 

A few weeks after the opening of the new Velaryon Importation offices, your boss needed someone to travel to London on his behalf, and you had to thank the universe for this perfect opportunity. While there were others at the firm who seemed more likely candidates, it was you who got called into his office that Thursday morning. You’ll have to thank Baela, who may have spoken good words to her grandfather in your favor. 

‘’All I’m asking in return is updates on the hot managing director. Call me every night. I heard british men have filthy mouths and oversized di—’’ 

Your jaw dropped, cutting her off before she could finish her sentence. ‘’Baela!’’ 

She shrugged. ‘’What? It’s what I’ve heard. If he’s really freaky, he might bend you over in his office.’’ 

You shook your head and headed down the stairs to get into your cab. 

Eight hours later, you landed in London and fell straight into your bed. Taylor Swift was a liar, jet-lag was not a choice.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

‘’Mr. Stark is on a phone call. He’ll be down shortly,’’  his secretary informed you with a friendly smile. 

She was blonde and stunningly beautiful, which made you wonder if Cregan had an affair going on with her. It was an office classic: an executive hooking up with his secretary.

You took a seat in the sleek, modern office and glanced around, waiting. 

Moments later, Cregan Stark walked in, exuding effortless charm. 

‘’Apologies for the delay,’’ he said, his deep northern accent adding a rugged charm to his words as he extended his hand. ‘’I was held back on the phone.’’

You took his hand, feeling a brief, electrifying contact. “No worries at all,” you replied, flashing a warm smile.

He was even more handsome than you’d remembered. His dark hair was pulled back into, giving him a more professional look, his crisp button up was clinging to his broad shoulders, and his beard made you want to push his face between your legs — be damned the carpet burns!

You needed to manifest this.

Cregan’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. “We met at the banquet in New York, didn’t we?” he asked, his gaze lingering on the wrapped neckline of your blouse and the soft curves concealed by your tight skirt. “I didn’t catch your name, though.”

You gave him your name and he repeated it, falling sweetly on his tongue. You wanted to hear it again.

‘’It’s quite the pleasure to see you again, Y/N,’’ he said, his eyes catching yours. 

Then, the boring part of your trip to London began. You followed Cregan as he gave you a visit of the offices, pointing out the various departments and introducing you to key staff members, but your thoughts kept drifting back to the way he’d said your name and the way his hand — twice the size of yours — had lingered just a moment longer than necessary during your handshake. 

You wanted that big hand all over your body. Especially between your thighs. 

Shaking any inappropriate thought off your mind, you pulled out your phone and asked questions about various things Mr. Velaryon wanted you to check on, almost forgetting the reason for your presence in London.  You took notes, not wanting to be empty handed when you’ll write your report email later.

As the tour continued, you were obsessed with the way the executive stole glances at you. He watched the way you moved, the way you spoke to people, the way your glossy lips curled when you laughed at Oliver’s British humor. He didn’t fail to notice the way your hips swayed as you walked past him everytime he held open a door for you. 

You would be lying if you said you did not wear this skirt on purpose. It made your ass look fantastic. 

Finally, you reached Cregan’s office. He opened the door for you and gestured for you to step inside. The office was sleek and modern, with large windows overlooking the city — not much different from the ones in New York. Except for the green couch in the corner, creating as a small lounge area. 

He had planned to take you out for lunch, but the tour of the offices took longer than he would have liked and now there was a bright pink post-it on his desk — written by his secretary —, a glaring reminder of a meeting he seemed to have forgotten.

‘’I would have invited you for lunch,’’ Cregan said, a hint of frustration in his tone as he glanced at the post-it. ‘’But I have a meeting in…’’ He checked his watch and frowned, ‘’...ten minutes ago.’’ He let out a soft curse under his breath. ‘’Mondays never fail to keep me busy. I’m always on the run.’’

You couldn’t help but smile at his mild panic. ‘’I can take myself to lunch, Mr. Stark. It is not a problem. I’m a big girl, I’ll find my way around the city.’’ 

‘’No,’’ he interrupted, a touch of insistence in his voice. ‘’I insist. Let me make it up to you. How about dinner tonight instead? I should be out of the office by 7pm. Can we meet up for 8?’’ He leaned in slightly, his tone dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. ‘’A friend of mine owns a restaurant. I’ll ask him to save us a table.’’    

The thought of having dinner with him, just the two of you, made your stomach do little flips. But you tried to keep your cool and nodded with a smile. ‘’8pm is good with me.’’ 

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

You mentally patted yourself on the back for bringing a dress in your suitcase. Without it, you would have been forced to go to dinner in your office clothes. They weren't ugly per se, but you would never wear them on a hot date. Not that tonight was a date. It was just dinner between colleagues.

You should remind yourself of that as you applied lipstick and extra spritz of perfume. 

When you arrived at the restaurant, Cregan was waiting outside. He was still in his office clothes, but his tie was removed and the first buttons of his shirt were undone. 

He led you inside, his hand coming at the small of your back, and you smiled at the ground. Maybe his intentions for tonight were not different from yours. 

A waitress took you to your table, promising to return with the wine card. Wine and a hot date on a Monday. Were you becoming your mother? 

Before sitting down, you removed your light coat, revealing the thin straps and the sweetheart neckline of your dress. You didn’t miss the low groan Cregan tried — and failed — to suppress, his eyes lingering a bit longer than necessary. You caught the way his jaw tightened slightly, his gaze darkening as if he was fighting to maintain his composure.

‘’How is London so far?’’ he asked, clearing his throat and taking a sip of wine, trying to refocus. ‘’Did you do anything this afternoon?'' 

You wished. 

‘’Truthfully, I napped all afternoon. I had this ambitious itinerary of all the sights I wanted to see and shops I wanted to go to, but jet lag hit me hard right after I left the office. I barely managed to order room service before I passed out.’’

Cregan chuckled softly, his eyes still subtly tracing the curve of your neckline. ‘’Jet lag can be brutal. But hey, at least it means you won’t be falling asleep on me tonight.” His tone was teasing, a playful grin tugging at his lips.

You leaned in slightly, your smile turning sly. “Lucky you.”

As the dinner progressed and plates were brought over, you began feeling a little bolder in your flirting. You slipped your shoe off under the table and stretched your leg out slowly, brushing your foot lightly against his ankle.  

You watched as Cregan’s eyes widened just a fraction, his breath catching slightly. He tried to maintain his composure and focus on the conversation you were having, but you could see the corner of his mouth twitching, fighting back a grin. You continued the gentle pressure, running your foot up his leg under the table, teasing him just enough to make him shift uncomfortably again in his seat. You were grateful for the table cloth shielding the restaurant of what was happening underneath. 

Cregan leaned in over the table, his voice dropping to a whisper. ‘’You’re playing a dangerous game, love.’’ 

You felt a shiver run down your spine as he called you ‘love’, the word sending a fresh wave of heat pooling in your stomach. 

‘’Who, me?’’ You feigned innocence, your voice dripping with playful coyness as you continued to tease him with your foot beneath the table. ‘’I’m just enjoying my meal, Mr. Stark.’’ 

Cregan grimaced. ‘’Don’t call me that. It sounds straight out of a bad porn movie.’’ 

A giggle bubbled out of you. You had not expected him to say that. 

You took a sip of your wine and finished your meals in silence. No more teasing. 

When Cregan saw your empty plate, he called for the tab, ready to leave.

‘’But we still have dessert left. I was thinking with a lot of getting—’’  

‘’Fuck dessert.’’ He leaned closer, his eyes never leaving yours. ‘’What I want is not on the menu,’’ he murmured, his voice a low rumble.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

As soon as the doors closed, Cregan’s mouth crashed on yours. He backed you up against one of the walls, his body towering over yours. The elevator started moving, going on its slow rise up to the tenth floor. You barely felt it under your feet, your brain tuning off as you felt his large hand grab one of your breasts over your dress, which Cregan had been dying to do ever since he met you at the banquet. 

He groaned in your mouth, and you grinned. This dress truly was a great pick. 

Behind him, the numbers were going up, now reaching the third floor. 

You pushed your hands under Cregan’s jacket, feeling the warmth of his chest over his button as his tongue slipped into your mouth, tasting the overpriced wine on each other's tongue. 

You tried to hook your leg to his hip, but it was not working. His tall frame was a blessing and a curse. Chuckling, Cregan came to your help and held your leg up while his other hand moved down underneath your dress, his fingers pulling your panties to the side and rubbing at your clit. Your head fell back against the wall, melting against his hand and breaking the kiss.

''More please,'' you sighed. 

Cregan smiled against your neck, and then he pushed a finger inside you. He felt rough against your smooth channel, and you couldn’t help but clench down around him. A second finger stroked across your clit. It made you shiver as he filled you up. Your legs buckled. If it wasn’t for his body and the wall keeping you upright, you were not sure you would be standing. Especially in heels. 

You gripped at the front of his button up, clinging to him and moaning loudly while his hand worked quickly at your cunt. If anyone were to hail the elevator, you would be very embarrassed, yet a small part of you wanted it to happen. 

But it didn’t. 

Before you could reach your peak, the elevator dinged and Cregan pulled his hand out. 

‘’I…I don’t think I can walk,’’ you said with a giggle, not trusting yourself on your feet. The combination of the two glasses of wine and what just happened made your head spin. 

Taking matters in his own hands, Cregan simply lifted you and carried you to your room. You fumbled with the key card — those damn things never work on the first try —, then he shut the door with the heel of his foot. 

Once inside, he set you down on the bed and you removed your shoes, kicking them off your feet. 

You'll have to tell Baela about your adventure in the elevator later.  

Right now, you really needed Cregan to satisfy the burning desire between your legs. Preferably with his cock. His fingers were nice — thick and long —, but judging by the tent in his pants. his cock will make you see fucking stars. 

As if he had read your thoughts, Cregan began taking off his jacket and button up, leaving him in his work pants. You eyed him hungrily. He looked strong and sturdy, not like those gym bros you’ve encountered in the past. 

You stood so he could unzip your dress, but first pressed you up against his chest, one hand coming under your jaw to hold you in place as he kissed you. He was kissing you even harder than he had in the elevator, his touch sending tingles of heat through the material. 

Cregan’s lips were hot and demanding, his tongue delving deep into your mouth. You could feel the heat of his body pressing against you, the firm muscles of his chest against your back, as you melted under his kiss. You felt your dress loosen as his hands worked the zipper, sliding it down your body.

As it finally slipped from your body, Cregan drew back to admire the sight of you, standing there with no bra, only lace panties and stockings up to your thighs. 

A feral growl left his mouth, the sight making his cock twitch painfully. ‘’Did you plan on killing me tonight?'' he muttered, closing the distance between you again. One hand slid into your hair, his touch gentle yet possessive, while the other gripped a handful of your ass, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. ‘’Because you’re fucking killing me right now.’’ 

You couldn’t help the grin curling on your lips. His words sent a thrill through your body. You would not have taken him for a lingerie man, but it was good to know.

‘’Don’t worry. I’m not a praying mantis,’’ you said, alluding to how they bit off the head of their mates after mating. 

Cregan couldn’t help but laugh at your humor. You were hot and funny? 

The bed was unmade from your afternoon nap as you and Cregan fell onto it. He had taken the rest of his clothes off, and his now bare — and hard — cock was rubbing against your panties as his hips rutted against yours. You moaned as you bucked your hips into his, your fingernails scratching down Cregan’s back. 

He pulled the crotch of your panties to the side, rubbing the head of his cock on your cunt. The contact made you moan.

‘’I think someone enjoyed the elevator a lot, uh?’’ Cregan teased, feeling how wet you were. Your panties were soaked from your arousal. ‘’Should we try it in the office’s elevator tomorrow?’’ He pushed his tip against your clit, sending jolts up your spine. ‘’Maybe I should fully take you this time? Would you like that, love?’’ 

The thought of doing something so forbidden made your heart beat faster and your walls clench. It would probably get you both fired. Your boss would never tolerate this kind of inappropriate behavior at the workplace. 

“Please, yes,” you gasped out, your legs spreading more for him. 

Cregan smirked, continuing his assault on your little bud, pushing his red tip against your clit in slow, deliberate strokes until your legs shook and you came, your back arching off the bed.  

Breathing heavily, you closed your eyes for a short second. When you opened them again, you saw Cregan stroking himself before pulling on a condom. Air caught in your throat — shocked — when your eyes fell on his cock. Your assumptions had been right — the man was packing. 

And if he knows how to use it, you won't be able to walk tomorrow. 

He pulled your panties down, not letting you time to recover from your orgasm. You were about to do the same with your stockings, but Cregan stopped you. 

‘’Leave them on,’’ he said, rubbing your thighs. ‘’I like it.’’ 

He turned you over, positioning you on your fours for him, and grabbed your ass before giving it a smack. The sound echoed in the hotel room. 

You glanced over your shoulder, watching as Cregan pushed his hair out of his eyes. He locked eyes with you, then lined himself at your entrance, slowly sliding in. You whimpered and clung to the sheets as you felt yourself stretch to accommodate him. They say that beauty is pain, but so is a good dick.

‘’You alright?’’ Cregan asked, checking on you. 

You gave him a small ‘yes’. Your last Tinder date didn’t bother checking on you before slamming into you. This was an upgrade. 

After a moment, your walls no longer clamped around him and Cregan took this as his cue to start moving. He went slow, feeling every inch of his thick cock being squeezed at every deep thrust, eliciting breathy moans from your sweet lips. 

‘’Fuck, you feel so good around me. Your sweet cunt’s squeezing me with a vice grip,’’ he praised as grabbed your hips, wishing he had made a move on you a month ago.  

If he had, you would not have spent so much alone time with your sparkly pink little helper. 

‘’Harder. Fuck me harder,’’ you demanded, pushing back against him. ‘’You're not going to break me.’’ 

Answering your wishes, Cregan slammed into you and watched as you reeled of pleasure, getting fuck you just like you craved. His pace never once faltered and his cock slid in your cunt so fast all you could do was moan his name and clench the sheets as Cregan left you breathless and helpless, hitting all the right spots. 

With a loud shriek you came all over him, your cunt gripping him like a vice, making him moan as he finally came deep inside you — well, into the condom.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

While Cregan was in the shower, washing off the sweat of the day and the smell of sex off him, you pulled out your phone and sent a quick text to Baela. 

To Baela: You were right about British men. Best. Sex. Ever. 

—

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[fairchilds-glasses]

Hii Sophie, it's Austin, I'm back and I was randomly rewatching the Chucky series and saw the signs of autism with Jake, Devon and Caroline:

For starters; hyperfixatation. We already know that these three seemed to almost be obsessed with their passions/hyperfixatations on a tremendous amount. Like the amount of dolls Jake had stored, Devon creating a whole fucking podcast and having posters, Caroline's fit over not having Chucky, etc.

Second; monotone or too expressive expressions. Jake seems really expressive, while Devon and Caroline seem to have this straight face usually all the time. And the eyes - like they're analyzing every single detail about what's in front of them or their enviorment.

Special interest; like I said, Devon is obsessed with true crime and still is, Jake is obsessed with dolls, art, sculptures, Caroline is obsessed with Chucky and dolls and murder. Like Devon was literally reading true crime at 7 am.

Difficulty making friends; Devon doesn't really seem to have this problem A LOT but it's really shown in S2 how he has a slight difficulty with making friends that probably only adapted with his mom. Jake is repeatedly remarked and shown to have difficulty making friends, and so does Caroline, said by Lexy that she "rarely even speaks" meaning Caroline is probably selectively mute as well.

Black and white thinking; this seems to only really be shown with Devon. In S2, he seems to have a black-and-white certain way of seeing and overlooking things, which is one of his greatest traits and his greatest problem. With Chucky, he barely bothered to hear anyone out since his black-and-white thinking.

Stimming: I have my reasons to suspect why Devon barely does this, but Caroline is seem to be swaying or tapping her fingers, Jake bounces his leg alot, messes with his rings, cracks his knuckles even when he's not anxious. And Devon sometimes does it too, but he's probably used to masking a lot, especially near Lexy.

Pattern recognition; This is like the hugest thing with Devon and how he was even able to brainwash Chucky. Because he saw the patterns in his behavior and the way Chucky operated, and was able to exactly determine what would break him and how to break him. Which is also why I think Devon may have undiagnosed apophenia, since he seems to find patterns or meanings when others don't.

Sensory issues: This is shown with Caroline and her disgust with being touched, and I think Lexy made some kind of remark that she had a meltdown because she wore the wrong sweater. And both Devon and Jake collectively try to avoid certain patterns and textures with their clothing, you can literally see how Devon rarely wears anything tight, showing skin, like Jake's now wardrobe a little bit. He specifically sticks to sweaters, shirts, all that.

Little or too much eye contact: Was I the only one who watched Caroline and thought that this little terror was almost staring into everyone's soul? Devon kinda does it too, like keeps main eye contact too the point it would kinda be unnerving if you were talking to him long enough while Jake seems to make little eye contact and only really does it with those he feels comfortable with.

In conclusion, all of these fuckers are autistic.

Oh thank god you noticed, I thought I was the only one!!!

It’s a lot more obvious and in your face with Caroline considering the meltdown in ep 3 and of course her aversion to touch but I’m really glad you noticed the more subtle things with Jake and Devon as well. Also obviously in season two Nadine is very blatantly autistic and I love it so much and obviously as I’ve stated multiple times Miss Fairchild also shows autism/ADHD tendencies as well. So yes I’m conclusion they’re all autistic 😌

I didn’t know if I was just projecting but knowing that you see it to has just validated it for me.

[barclaysangel]

Hii Lu, I'm back and I was randomly rewatching the Chucky series and saw the signs of autism with Jake, Devon and Caroline:

For starters; hyperfixatation. We already know that these three seemed to almost be obsessed with their passions/hyperfixatations on a tremendous amount. Like the amount of dolls Jake had stored, Devon creating a whole fucking podcast and having posters, Caroline's fit over not having Chucky, etc.

Second; monotone or too expressive expressions. Jake seems really expressive, while Devon and Caroline seem to have this straight face usually all the time. And the eyes - like they're analyzing every single detail about what's in front of them or their enviorment.

Special interest; like I said, Devon is obsessed with true crime and still is, Jake is obsessed with dolls, art, sculptures, Caroline is obsessed with Chucky and dolls and murder. Like Devon was literally reading true crime at 7 am.

Difficulty making friends; Devon doesn't really seem to have this problem A LOT but it's really shown in S2 how he has a slight difficulty with making friends that probably only adapted with his mom. Jake is repeatedly remarked and shown to have difficulty making friends, and so does Caroline, said by Lexy that she "rarely even speaks" meaning Caroline is probably selectively mute as well.

Black and white thinking; this seems to only really be shown with Devon. In S2, he seems to have a black-and-white certain way of seeing and overlooking things, which is one of his greatest traits and his greatest problem. With Chucky, he barely bothered to hear anyone out since his black-and-white thinking.

Stimming: I have my reasons to suspect why Devon barely does this, but Caroline is seem to be swaying or tapping her fingers, Jake bounces his leg alot, messes with his rings, cracks his knuckles even when he's not anxious. And Devon sometimes does it too, but he's probably used to masking a lot, especially near Lexy.

Pattern recognition; This is like the hugest thing with Devon and how he was even able to brainwash Chucky. Because he saw the patterns in his behavior and the way Chucky operated, and was able to exactly determine what would break him and how to break him. Which is also why I think Devon may have undiagnosed apophenia, since he seems to find patterns or meanings when others don't.

Sensory issues: This is shown with Caroline and her disgust with being touched, and I think Lexy made some kind of remark that she had a meltdown because she wore the wrong sweater. And both Devon and Jake collectively try to avoid certain patterns and textures with their clothing, you can literally see how Devon rarely wears anything tight, showing skin, like Jake's now wardrobe a little bit. He specifically sticks to sweaters, shirts, all that.

Little or too much eye contact: Was I the only one who watched Caroline and thought that this little terror was almost staring into everyone's soul? Devon kinda does it too, like keeps main eye contact too the point it would kinda be unnerving if you were talking to him long enough while Jake seems to make little eye contact and only really does it with those he feels comfortable with.

In conclusion, all of these fuckers are autistic.

Holy shit. Like I knew about Caroline but all these other facts you point out with Devon and Jake make SO much sense!! You’re so right!!

[zelinksupporter]

Hii dude, it's Austin; the one who merged our AU's together I'm back and I was randomly rewatching the Chucky series and saw the signs of autism with Jake, Devon and Caroline:

For starters; hyperfixatation. We already know that these three seemed to almost be obsessed with their passions/hyperfixatations on a tremendous amount. Like the amount of dolls Jake had stored, Devon creating a whole fucking podcast and having posters, Caroline's fit over not having Chucky, etc.

Second; monotone or too expressive expressions. Jake seems really expressive, while Devon and Caroline seem to have this straight face usually all the time. And the eyes - like they're analyzing every single detail about what's in front of them or their enviorment.

Special interest; like I said, Devon is obsessed with true crime and still is, Jake is obsessed with dolls, art, sculptures, Caroline is obsessed with Chucky and dolls and murder. Like Devon was literally reading true crime at 7 am.

Difficulty making friends; Devon doesn't really seem to have this problem A LOT but it's really shown in S2 how he has a slight difficulty with making friends that probably only adapted with his mom. Jake is repeatedly remarked and shown to have difficulty making friends, and so does Caroline, said by Lexy that she "rarely even speaks" meaning Caroline is probably selectively mute as well.

Black and white thinking; this seems to only really be shown with Devon. In S2, he seems to have a black-and-white certain way of seeing and overlooking things, which is one of his greatest traits and his greatest problem. With Chucky, he barely bothered to hear anyone out since his black-and-white thinking.

Stimming: I have my reasons to suspect why Devon barely does this, but Caroline is seem to be swaying or tapping her fingers, Jake bounces his leg alot, messes with his rings, cracks his knuckles even when he's not anxious. And Devon sometimes does it too, but he's probably used to masking a lot, especially near Lexy.

Pattern recognition; This is like the hugest thing with Devon and how he was even able to brainwash Chucky. Because he saw the patterns in his behavior and the way Chucky operated, and was able to exactly determine what would break him and how to break him. Which is also why I think Devon may have undiagnosed apophenia, since he seems to find patterns or meanings when others don't.

Sensory issues: This is shown with Caroline and her disgust with being touched, and I think Lexy made some kind of remark that she had a meltdown because she wore the wrong sweater. And both Devon and Jake collectively try to avoid certain patterns and textures with their clothing, you can literally see how Devon rarely wears anything tight, showing skin, like Jake's now wardrobe a little bit. He specifically sticks to sweaters, shirts, all that.

Little or too much eye contact: Was I the only one who watched Caroline and thought that this little terror was almost staring into everyone's soul? Devon kinda does it too, like keeps main eye contact too the point it would kinda be unnerving if you were talking to him long enough while Jake seems to make little eye contact and only really does it with those he feels comfortable with.

In conclusion, all of fuckers are autistic.

Caroline is on the spectrum canonically. Don Mancini himself said so

As for Jake and Devon, mental health and disabilities aren't something I like to get into for preexisting characters. I just wait until their creator says it and will take it as fact, then. Otherwise, I refuse to touch those subjects with a 39-and-a-half-foot pole

[fratboykate]

She started following wedding accounts in December when she was still with William. That’s probably his ring lolllol. She pulled a naya rivera

OH MY GODDDSSSSSS I HAD FORGOTTEN SHE WAS STILL WITH WILLIAM THIS YEAR TOO

[blogevaawrites]

BIG DEAL

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: smut, cheating, angst

Summary: After being away of you boyfriend for three weeks, you come to Chris’s  house after he had thrown a party where you met a girl you haven’t see ever. The beginning of the relationship was unconventional so you couldn’t do anything else but suspect.

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

There’s something I do when I don’t know how to deal with a situation.

I clean my closet.

I organize it; I try everything on, throw out pieces I don’t wear anymore, or I don’t like. I like to spend time doing this just because I don’t have to think in anything else.

“He’s calling again, you’re not picking up, are you?” Linda asked from the other side of the room. I was surrounded by my clothes and shoes and things, and she was working in her laptop.

“No.” I answered simply and kept doing my thing.

“Isn’t better if you pick up and tell him to stop? This is his tenth call today, and I don’t want to know about texts. This is not right.”

“I’m not ready to think about this.” I muttered. I didn’t realize she got up from the bed and walked to me.

“It’s fine, everything is going to be fine” she said hugging me. Her touch brought tears out of my eyes, but her kindness made me feel safe.

Linda moved to NY a few months before I did, and I could be more blessed because she moved to the next door’s apartment. She has been there since then; our friendship was the kind of you find just a couple times in a lifetime.

“Don’t worry I will be right here. We can clean your closet as many times as you need.”

It’s been three days since I left his house, and my phone has been ringing since then.

I spent my first day watching true-crime documentaries, eating ice cream and drinking wine. The second day I started donating the clothes I wasn’t wearing anymore. And today, I have cleaned the closet three times. Linda enjoyed the first two days, but she hated to organize anything, so she killed time working from my bed.

“That one is pretty sexy. Why don’t we go out to dinner and have a few drinks tonight? Lucy and Vanessa have been calling too.” She spoke.

I thought about it for a few minutes, and I was actually feeling sick of being here.

“Yeah! Why not? I need more alcohol” I joked.

 The night went pretty fun, and I kind of felt better and ready to face everything, his apologies, his face and his voice. Around three a.m I was ready to go back home and sleep my hangover. “Are you sure you don’t need me there? Linda asked when I told her I was leaving, she was having a good time and I didn’t want to spoil her fun. “Yeah! Don’t worry, I’m sick of being depressed, I’m ready to be me again.” She smiled at me and hugged me before I left.

The uber ride was fast, no traffic nor people in the street this made my way home calm, and the driver was quite funny. He waited for me to get in the building and left, leaving alone again. The lobby’s lights were automatic, but they weren’t working very well, I knew the way to my door, so I didn’t bother turning my phone’s flashlight on. Going up stairs, I tried to take off my high heels, but something made me get alarmed. A dark big shadow at the top of the stairs. My heart stopped for a second.

“Holy crap! What are you doing here? Why are you sitting there? You scared the shit out of me, asshole!” I yelled when the light of the hallway turned on and all of the sudden the silhouette of a big man appeared at the top the stairs. My heart started to beat in this normal pace when I recognized his face.  

“I’m sorry that wasn’t my intention. You weren’t picking the phone. I was worry about you.” His hands went up in a signal of inoffensive. His voice was hoarse and his eyes a little bit swollen and red. I could say he had been crying.

“I’m fine, you can go.” I said, walking straightly to my apartment’s door. I looked for my keys in my bag as faster as I could.  

“Can we talk?” he moved to stay behind me while I opened the door. He didn’t get too close to me and I felt grateful for that.

“I don’t want to hear anything, and right now the only thing I want is to sleep.” I got in the apartment and closed the door rapidly. With my forehead rested against the closed door and my hands still on the handle, I listened to him to beg. I missed him, his voice, his smell, his fucking presence made me shake my legs.

“Please, just give me five minutes. I love you and I can’t let you think I don’t. I know I fucked everything up but…” I opened the door before he could finish it. He looked quite surprised when a move away to let him pass.

He didn’t say anything, walked in and moved around awkwardly. I told him to sit with my head. He took a sit on the couch and I didn’t move from the door, with my back resting it in. His eyes stared me few a few minutes, making me feel uncomfortable, defenseless.

“You look beautiful.” He said quietly.

“You have five minutes.” The alcohol in my body brought rudeness out of my mouth. I was tired, kind of drunk and still hurt by him so couldn’t let him get any closer in any dimension.

“I’m sorry.” He said before his hands rubbed his face roughly. “I went to NY to tell you everything. I really did, I felt horrible, and I didn’t want to hurt you, but I knew I had to tell you. Carly thought it too. You know them, there’s no place for any secrete between them. When I arrived in here, saw your face and I felt your arms around me I chickened out. I realize that I couldn’t live without you; for the first time in my life, I was really scared to lose somebody. And that was a feeling I wasn’t used to.” His statements made my heart ache. I wished anything of this had happened.

“So, you lied? Because you loved me.” I knew he wasn’t a perfect boyfriend in the past but that was a shitty excuse.

“I didn’t know how to tell you. When Carly called that night, she heard you in the back then she assumed that you forgave me, and I didn’t deny it. I felt awful but I got into that lie so quickly, I didn’t know what to do.” I sat on ankles, sliding down the wall. I hid my face with my hands trying to avoid him to see me cry.

“I wasn’t joking, honey. You are the love of my life and I didn’t want to lose you. That scare got so real that I couldn’t face it. I’m sorry, I really am. With you everything is different, and I didn’t realize it until that. The fear of losing you got in my skin and it never left.” I didn’t feel him to come closer to me until I felt his hands in mine. As soon as I felt it, I got up and moved away from him. I knew I could fall for him quickly.

“If you have done, you should leave.” I could say walking to the fridge to pour water in glass. My throat was dry.

He looked at me for a while, then took a deep and loud breath and moved to the door.

I saw him walk to the door, to leave the apartment, to leave me. I did understand the scare of losing someone, I had lost a few people in my life, but seeing him leaving it was different, I was losing him, and everything was his fault. That didn’t feel fair.

 “Why you did this to me?” The words left my mouth before I could think about it. He turned around to look at me, but I hadn’t finished “Why didn’t you break up with me if you wanted to fuck somebody else? Why were you seeing Ashley? Why did you play along with her game after the kiss?” my voice got louder at every question. I wasn’t a person who yelled easily but I couldn’t help it.

“Baby, I’m a dickhead, I screw up every relationship I’ve ever had. I don’t know why. I promised I went out with her with any side intention, when she kissed me, I felt that fear again. And at the party, I swear I didn’t invite her, I wanted to keep her away from you, I wanted to keep everything what I did away from us.”

“Yeah! That’s why you took her panties.” I said ironically. “What did you want me to do? Kicked her out of the house, making a scene?” He saw my face burning in anger and he continued. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I hate myself enough for both of us.” Said that he took his way again. I didn’t hate him. I loved him. I was needed for him.

I moved quickly to get him; I could reach him by the arm.

As soon as he turned around to look at me, I jumped on his mouth. He didn’t take any longer to embrace his arms around me, pushing my face more against his, as if that was even possible.

We walked clumsily to the nearest wall; he squeezed my butt before holding me up. His hands flew through my tights, caressing them and reached my wet panties. I moaned when I felt his fingers rubbing me. “I need you.” He whispered in my ear. His fingers went to undo his pants and I could get out of his arms.

I saw panic in his face for a couple of seconds. But it disappeared when he saw me got into my knees. I took his hard member in my hands to stroke it a few times before get it into my mouth. He rested his forehead in the wall, and shut his eyes, leaving me caged by his body.

His breathing changed when he opened his eyes and watched my mouth around the head of his sensitive cock. Clenched jaw and hands making fist, he moaned loudly as he was being relieved of great amount of pressure.

My lips wrapped around his cock, taking as much as my throat could, and my hand gripped the rest. I wasn’t thinking, I didn’t want to think. I was tired and sick of the anxiety that this situation was giving me.

I knew this wasn’t a good idea. I wasn’t proud but I wanted it.

“I love your fucking mouth.” his voice brought my back from my thoughts. I started to suck a little bit harder as he was getting bigger. His hips also started to thrust him into my mouth, making me gag at one particularly push. “Shit! Sorry!” he said, taking my face in his hands and making me get up from my knees. “I don’t want to cum in your mouth.” he responded to my unanswered question. We kissed as his hands tried to get rid of my dress, and mine were fighting with his shirt.

Just in my panties, he pickup me up and put me on the hall’s table. Sucking my nipples and rubbing my breast and ass, he ripped my panties and his dick stormed in me.

I yelled in surprise; I was actually more than ready to take him.

“I loved that ones.” I murmured pretending to be sadly for my lingerie.

“I will make it worth.” He said with smile on his face before taking my calves over his shoulders. His thrusts were deep, rough, and needed, I tired to hold on to the table, but his movements got fiercely, and I could feel my orgasm coming.

The table wasn’t meant to this kind of activities. We realized it very late.

“Holy crap!” he said when he saw the table fall, holding me better in his arms. Everything I could do was laugh. He intended to let me go but crossed my arms behind his neck.

“No! Take me to bed!” I whispered in his ear. He smiled before kissing me.

He laid down on the bed with me over him. “Ride me, baby.” he said holding me from my hips.

I started to move up and down on his cock, rolling my hips. I saw he shut his eyes, a signal he was close, so I started to ride hard on him. His fingers were marking my hips as he pushed me up and down savagely. I groaned at the almost painful pleasure.

I felt his body getting tense as he filled me up with his cum.

“God! I love you!” he yelled.

Something woke up inside me, suddenly I felt dirty and ashamed. I hid my breast with my arms as I stood up from bed. His cum dripping on my inner thigh, made me just feel worst.

He didn’t realize, he was still dazed. He took my arm when he realized that I wasn’t coming back to bed. “Come back, I’m still hard.” He muttered with his eyes closed. I let him to guide my body, he made me lay down next to him and cuddle.

“These couple days have been awful; I’ve never felt that bad.” His lips were right next to neck and made me get goosebumps.” I was so scared of not seeing you again.” He said pecking my neck. He turned my hips a little, just enough to let himself into me one more time. I was feeling guilty, I was using him. I wasn’t forgiving him, but he thought I was.

I didn’t want a confrontation; I couldn’t handle one.

His hand held my face to keep kissing my mouth, and his other one at my hip, holding me steady. “Your so good for me.” he said between kisses. His hand went from my hip to my clit. He worked himself in deeper and rubbed me just in the right way.    

My body was so tensed and my brain so away from the reality that I didn’t noticed he fell sleep.

I wanted to have sex with him, I enjoyed. I shouldn’t feel bad for him, he cheated on me and lied, but I wasn’t like that.

I woke up with his snoring in my ear. I got out of his embrace needy for water, the hangover was taking my body. I saw my clothes and his’s all over the floor and the broken table. I didn’t get to do the walk of shame, it was my apartment, I was living in the shame.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” His voice resounded throughout the entire place.

“Okay! You are really thirsty” he said when I drank the water quickly. I didn’t answer, I didn’t look at him. The situation was awkward, and he noticed it.

“What’s going on?” he asked from behind. I ignored him again. “Hey! Are you okay?” he shouted and turned me over to face me.

“Yes, I’m just still drunk.” I said softly. I tired my best to look unbothered.

“Can we talk?” he asked.    

“Not right now. I have things to do.” I started to pick everything up. “I think you should leave; I really have things to do.” I avoided his eyes. I get repetitive when I feel nervous. He knew it.

“Well, I think you’re acting like a child. What happened last night?” his voice wasn’t loud, but it was hard.

I just could shrug, I felt ashamed, and he was mad.

“Talk to me! Damn! Don’t shut up. You always do that. I fucked everything up, I know. But you kissed me last night, you started everything so, right now please talk! Tell me what is happening!” now he was yelling, he looked mad and kind of sad, the guilt just spread across my body.

“What you want me to say, Chris? I wasn’t thinking properly.” I said, looking how he was getting dress himself.

“So, wasn’t mean a shit for you?” I felt like our roles were reversed. Now he was angry, and I was the one giving the explanations.

“I don’t want to hurt your feelings.” I could say.

“Yes, you do, and to be honest, I understand. I deserved it, but I don’t…” he was wrong, I knew I hurt him but that wasn’t my intention, I loved him, and he knew it.

“I don’t want to hurt you. I’m not like you.” My voice wasn’t soft anymore. We were in the same level, he wanted me to feel guilty, so I was doing the same. I continued “Sorry, but I’m not going to apologize, I didn’t want to hurt you. I felt bad and I wanted to have sex with you, you could have said no, and you didn’t do it. But I didn’t say anything to make you think that I forgave you.” His eyes goy darker with my words. he stared me for a few seconds.

“I couldn’t have said no, you could have given me a glass full of worms and I would have taken it.” I felt he was playing the victim; I could stand it.

“I give you a relationship and you pissed on it.” I said crudely.

The room got in a deep silence and filled with tension and resentment.

“You were right, we shouldn’t talk right now.” He spoke after a couple minutes, he took his jacket and got ready to leave. The scare of losing him went back to my head, but I knew it was the best and this time I stood up to it.

“I don’t want to see you again.” I said when he got closer the door. He looked at me incredulous, but he didn’t interrupt.

“I’m still mad and hurt, so I’m not forgiving you soon. But that doesn’t matter because we can’t be together, I don’t trust you and my insecurity in our relationship will freak you out at some point and it will be worst, for both of us.” I didn’t want to cry but I failed, at least he was weepy too.

I thought he was going to response, but he didn’t, he left my apartment without hesitation, slamming the door.

Tag list: @breezykpop  @calwitch @firoozehmoon 

[weasleysjoke]

Daydreaming

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: There were two features of Reid’s that drove you insane: his lips and his hands. You couldn’t help yourself to get horny because of the gestures he made while reading. It got to the point where you embarrassed yourself daydreaming of him.

Words: 2.7k

Warnings: Smut, Oral (Female and male receiving), Penetration, Chocking, Dom Specer.

A/N: As I always remind, English is not my first nor second language so if there’s any grammar error please don’t come at me. I had to write this because of my obsession with Matthew’s hands.

Y/N, calm fucking down. There’s people dying and you are being a horny asshole. Breathe and concentrate.

I have to remind myself constantly to keep my eyes on the files and not stare at Dr. Sexy Hands. Spencer and I have been stuck on the commissary, on a little village lost in the middle of nowhere, to keep reading the files of a few suspects that fitted the profile of a murderer we were investigating.

“Y/N, I think I found something.” I hear Spencer’s voice calling me and I turn to give him my full attention. “This guy fits perfectly the profile and his mother died a month ago. That could be enough motive for his psychotic breakdown.” As I read the file of the man, I realize that Reid’s completely right and we start calling the team to let them know.

It only toke us an stressful evening to finish the paperwork and we go back to Virginia on the plane during nighttime. Everybody seem to be extra tired and had fallen sleep just as we sat on the plane. Spence and I were the only ones who were awake, blaming it on the amount of coffee’s that we toke that day.

Reid and I were the only ones sitting by the plane table, both with a book on our hands. To be honest, I was paying 0 attention to the book. Since I started on the BAU a year ago, Spencer and I always had a weird type of tension. Everybody knew I was hella attracted to him, but he didn’t notice any of the many signals threw at him.

He was so fucking oblivious for this type of things. I can believe how a genius profiler couldn’t see that I had the hots for him since day one.

As a profiler there are things that you pick out of people, and even more if you have a crush on them. There were two things that drove me insane about Reid: his lips and his hands.

HIS MOTHERFUCKING HANDS.

On one side, when he started ranting about stuff he knew or was passionate about his lips would dry out. So, with that happening, he had the constant need of travelling his tongue throw his plumped lips to hydrate them.

HE. WAS. CONSTANTLY. LICKING. THEM.

I almost caught myself moaning out loud on the conference room one day that I was extra horny, and Spencer was explaining to me the movie he saw that night. His eyes were fixed on mine and my eyes kept travelling from his to his lips and moving hands. Emily, who sat by my side, smirked and shot me a knowingly look.

On the other side, HIS HANDS. Everybody knew he could read 20.000 words per minute, which was crazy by itself. To help his reading his hands followed rapidly the sentences and flipped the pages with ease.

It may sound stupid, but I got wet several times just watching him read. Reading Reid combined his two most attractive features. His lips moved following the words and his hands accompanied the book pages.

So, after all the tension accumulated in these few days of work, Spencer currently reading by my side felt like a sick joke. A fucking punishment.

All I could think about is how his full lips would feel against your neck, travelling towards your tits and sucking hardly on one of your nipples while the other one was being pinched with his long fingers. How his mouth and hands would feel against your core, his tongue against your clit and one hand against your neck.

You hadn’t realized that everybody had already got off the plane, except for Reid who couldn’t get out of his sit because you were blocking him.

“Y/N!” His hands made a set of movements in front your eyes to wake you from the daydream you were having. His eyes were looking at you worryingly. “Are you okay? You look kinda flushed, maybe you are getting sick.”

“Oh! Sorry, Spence. I was just daydreaming, or more like nightdreaming since it’s 2 am.” I tried to joke.

“Did you know that most people spend 47% of their waking time daydreaming every day? Although, there’s no consistent theory or definition among psychologists on the different types of daydreams.”

To be honest, I did not hear a word he just said. My eyes were locked on his lips and after he said the last word, he drew his lips against his lower lip.

I moaned.

I. FUCKING. MOANED. OUT. LOUD.

Somebody kill me right now.

Embarrassed I falsely coughed. “I didn’t know. That sounds interesting, Reid, but we should leave already. It’s so late.”

Spencer seemed to be speechless because he didn’t say a word just a ‘goodbye’ left his lips after getting to the parking lot.

I fucked it up, I need to talk to Emily and drink a bottle of wine.

“Emily.” I groaned as I hear she picked the call.

“Y/N, I was asleep. What happened? Is there something wrong?” She asked worryingly but annoyed at the same time.

“I messed up. I messed up so badly. I don’t think I can ever look at Spencer’s face again.”

I heard her laugh. “What happened? Do you wanna come to my place and explain it to me?”

“Sure, prepare the wine.” I hang up after hearing her laugh again.

In less than 10 minutes I’m already ringing her door.

“Hey baby, come in.” Emily greeted me and passing me a glass full of white wine.

As I sat down on her sofa, I give a big gulp and sigh. “I moaned. He did his lip thingy while ranting about daydreaming and I spent the whole travel in the plane thinking about him, his hands. You know what he does to me! And then, I was just staring at his lips and couldn’t help myself but moan out loud. I’m so embarrassed.”

Emily starts laughing so much that tears started falling of her eyes. I sigh because I knew that she would react like that and I finish my glass and grab her full glass of wine and finishing it in one gulp.

She stops laughing but a smile is plastered in her face. “How did he react?”

“We made it back to the parking lot without crossing any word. He just muttered a ‘goodbye’ and left.” I sigh again and close my eyes feeling already dizzy because of the wine.

I pour myself another glass and drink it.

Emily stares at me till I finish my third glass. “What if you call him and tell him, finally, that you’ve got the hots for him?”

“You know what?! I’m going to do it.” I pick my phone from the table and ring him.

As he picks up, Emily whispers “Put it on speaker.”

I pressed the speaker option and hear Spencer’s voice: ‘Y/N?”

“Hi, Reid. Remember that I was daydreaming on the plane?” I continue without waiting for a response, but he murmurs a ‘yes’. “All I could think about is about your mouth on my pussy and your hands on my neck.”

“Oh my god” I heard Emily say.

“You don’t fucking know what your lips and hands do to me every time you are reading, and you read a fucking lot, Reid.”

I stop my rant and wait for him to say something, but I’m left waiting.

I sigh on defeat. “I’m sorry, I just thought I had to let you know. I’m not going to make things weird in work and if you want to I can stop talking to you. It would hurt but-“

“Y/N” I hear his voice come out my phone like a growl. “Where are you right now?”

Fuck, I’m wet again.

“I’m at Emily’s right now.” I say unsure.

“Give me 15 minutes, I’m coming.” And then he hangs up.

WHAT?

HE IS COMING?!

TO GET ME?!

“Emily, what did just happen?”

“You are getting laid, my girl.” She says loudly. “Are you wearing cute underwear?”

·

I receive a text from Reid saying to come down and I obey immediately saying ‘goodbye’ and ‘thanks’ to Emily.

I see Reid’s car and just as I got into the passenger sit and put the safety belt, he starts driving.

“Y/N. I couldn’t stop thinking about the fucking sound you made on the plane.” My eyes grew wide and turned to stare at him. “I never thought you could actually be attracted to me, although Morgan and Emily always kept insisting that you did.”

I chuckled. “Spence, I’ve always tried to make you notice me, but you are so fucking oblivious. I thought you didn’t want anything from me.”

“How could I not want anything from you? Are you crazy? You are stunning, funny, and so fucking smart. You’ve everything.” He says staring at me as he just parked in front of his apartment.

His eyes drift off to my lips and proceeds to lick his.

And again, I moan out loud.

“Fuck, Y/N. Let’s get inside before I fuck you right here in the car.”

Jesus-fucking-christ.

I’ve never heard him sound like this, a new kind of confidence occupied his body and it showed.

As we reached the lift, the tension between the two of us was so dense I couldn’t breathe steadily. The door dings and opens, Spencer grabbed my hand and takes me to his apartment. Without waiting a second after closing the door, he led me into his room.

“Sit down.” He ordered me and I don’t hesitate to do it. “Before we start this, I want to tell you that I won’t be gentle. Also, this ain’t going to be a one-time thing, after this I’m going to ask you out on a date. Just so you know that I’m not playing with your feelings or that this is a one-sided thing.”

“Reid, I need your lips on mine, right now.”

“This is the only time I’m going to take an order from you, baby.”

He launched himself over my body and went for my lips. With my bottom lip between his teeth, I opened my mouth granting pass to his tongue. As our tongues dance with each other a loud moan left my mouth.

“Y/N… those fucking sounds are going to be the death of me.” He lifts my weigh while turning around and I end up straddling him. “Remind me again of what you daydreamed back in the plane.” He says while leaving kisses on my check and continued with my jaw.

“You started biting my neck…” he proceeded to do that going for the sweet spot just below my ear. “Fuck.” I moan.

“What else?”

His teeth nipped strongly on my skin and I closed my mouth to try to not make a sound, failing of course.

“I imagined you eating me out and then chocking me.”

He separated his head of my neck and looked at me with a new sparkle in his eyes. “If you behave, I might just do that, baby.”

Between kisses, I toke his shirt off and he toke mine, followed by my bra.

“Fuck, I’ve dreamed so many nights about these two. Had to jerk off so many times in my shower thinking about coming onto them.” I moaned at his dirty talk; I should have known he was good with his words in bed too. “Maybe we could do that another time, now I’m going to give my full attention to this right here.” He said while cupping my pussy with his hand.

He pushed me into the bed on my back and toke my pants and underwear off. His mouth traveled between my tits and continued on my abdomen. He started kissing my thighs but every time he got close to where I needed him the most, he started kissing my other thigh.

“Please, Spencer.” I implored.

“What do you want, Y/N?” He arched an eyebrow.

“You know what I want, Reid.”

“Use your words.” He blew air into the center of my core.

“I need you, your tongue, fingers… I don’t care. I need you. PLEASE.”

“If you beg me like that, baby.”

His tongue attacked my clitoris while two of his fingers entered me.

“Spencer!” I screamed.

With a smirk, his tongue continued lapping my clit while his fingers curled inside me. His mouth left my core to give attention to my boobs. His fingers still working in and out and his teeth nipping my nipples was starting to be too much for me. My legs started trembling and sweat was covering every inch of my body. The warm sensation was overwhelming and as he pinched my nipple and bitted the other one, I came.

“Fucking hell Reid.” I moaned. As I came down of my high, he licked his fingers.

“You taste so good, baby. It almost feels like a sin to taste like this, I wanna eat this pussy every day.”

My mouth opened speechless at his words.

Is it possible to be already wet again and ready for more? Because Spencer just had made it possible for me.

“I want those pinks lips wrapped around my cock. Now.”

He grabbed the back of my thighs lifting me up again to straddle him. We get into a deep kiss in which I get to taste myself and help him get out of his pants and boxers. His cock completely erected stood now on his stomach.

Licking my lips hungrily, I went directly to wrap the tip with my lips and tacking it out making a ‘pop’ sound.

“Shit.” He groans.

With the help of my hand, I start slow movements on his length. I take him fully on my mouth earning a loud moan that went directly to the inside of my pussy. His hand grabbed my hair, stopping me for a second.

“Y/N, I’m gonna come in your mouth if you don’t stop.”

“Do it, Reid” I bob my head faster and I toke his balls on my hands massaging them.

“Holy shit.” He growled and came inside my mouth. His saltiness fulling me. “That felt so good baby.” He sighs and cups my face bringing it to his.

We kissed and I smiled. “Now, can I finally have that cock inside my pussy?”

He tucked my hair with his hand making my neck to be on full exposure to his mouth. “Come and ride me baby.” Ordered while attacking my neck again.

He’s going to leave me so many marks.

I positioned my pussy right on his cock and pushed it inside me. We both groaned at the same time.

“You feel so good around me.”

I moaned at his words and started riding him. We both were a moaning mess, but he seemed to get frustrated.

“I need to go faster.” He pushed me into my back. He pushed himself into me, getting more in depth in this new position. My legs were on his shoulders and his cock was deeper than ever. One of his hands traveled to my clit drawing circles on it and his other hand positioned on my neck with a light pressure.

“Harder.” I demanded between moans.

He did what I said and putted more pressure on my neck.

“Y/N, come for me.” As if I just needed to hear him say it, my whole body reacted to his words giving me one of the best orgasms I have ever had.

“Oh my god.” I moaned. My clenched pussy wrapped around him was what he needed to have his release.

“Baby, that was the best sex I’ve ever had.” He said lying on his back and getting off me.

We lied catching our breath.

“Same, Spence.”

He then seemed to be on deep thought.

“What are you thinking about?”

“That now, everytime I read all I’m going to think is about you moaning.”

I laugh at his response. “Finally, you will suffer some consequences for being hot without realizing.”

We laugh.

“As I promised,” he started and turned all his body to face mine, “do you wanna go out with me on a date?”

I looked at him sweetly while we cupped my cheek with one hand, getting my hair out my face.

“Of course, idiot. It was time you asked.”

[mortalfaerie]

To Fake an Engagement (M.F.)

part 2/?

matthew fairchild x (fem) reader

word count: 1904

synopsis: part 2 of this series. after james and cordelia marry, matthew is being a bitter idiot, and reader goes to talk some sense into him. later, they go to anna’s party and things get a little flirty. no coi spoilers.

You hadn’t expected the next year to amount to much. Certainly, Matthew would forget the deal, ask for his ring back, and probably wait for Cordelia to divorce James to try to romance her. 

But, Matthew Fairchild surprised you. He had engaged you for walks, written you letters, and seemed to often hover to your side whenever you were in a room together. For the two months to follow, he even seemed to drink less. 

However, after the wedding, he seemed to slump back, drink more, and refuse company. Finally, sick of his dramatics, you went directly to his house and demanded he see you. When he came down to the parlor after being called by Charles, he was disheveled and obviously hungover. He had flushed despite himself when he saw you.

You had glared over the rim of your teacup as he idly stared into his. Finally, he muttered, “I’m sorry.” You were frustrated, but managed to ask, “Sorry on what account?”

He shot you a glare briefly and replied, “You know what. Shall I spell it out? I disappointed you. I am a disappointment, Y/N."

You softened, and schooled your tone. “You are right that I am disappointed, Matthew, but that does not make you a disappointment. I am disappointed that you have neglected my letters, that you seem to have scorned my company. I am disappointed that you will not accept my attempts to comfort you when I have so freely given them.”

He nodded, not meeting your eyes. “I admit to that.” he replied.

“And I am hurt, because I have become so fond of your company in recent months and you have-” you shook your head in exasperation, “ripped it from me without ceremony.”

Your voice had broken on the last word, so you took a long sip of your tea and collected yourself. When you again looked up, he was looking at you with a soft, sorrowful look. “I am so, so sorry, Y/N.”

“I would prefer your commitment to change to your sorrow.” You said in clipped words. Mathew raked a hand through his golden hair, the light catching on the piece of silver on his third finger. Your family ring, still in place. 

“I can make no promises.” He said finally, meeting your eyes again. He did truly look remorseful.

“Then promise me you will try, Matthew.” you said, gesturing to his disheveled state. “I am not asking that you quit your vices entirely, I can hardly say I am without vice myself, but I am asking that you try to control them.”

He was looking into his cup of tea when he replied, “I can try.”

“Thank you.” you breathed, and set your cup down. Matthew was seated across a small, circular table in the parlor, and you reached over to cover his hand with yours. He looked up with surprise, and you offered a small smile.

“I did not come entirely to schold you.” you said. Matthew smiled wryly, and it was good to see his face not in a mask of brooding and contemplation. “You came for Oscar, then?” he asked, and before you could respond, he lifted his free hand to his lips and whistled a high tone. You could hear a thump noise upstairs, followed by the patter and clacking of clawed feet on the floor, and saw a flurry of yellow fur bounding down the stairs and into the parlor.

You laughed, your hand still over Matthew’s and offered your other to Oscar, who happily sniffed and licked it. “Hello, old chap.” you cooed to the golden retriever, who thumped his tail of the carpet in approval. Eventually, he went to go curl himself around Matthew’s chair, comforting his person. 

You smiled, but answered, “No, I do love to see Oscar, but not him.” you drummed your fingers on the table and continued, “I want you to come to Anna’s party with me.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You want to schold me for my drunkenness and then have me escort you to a party?” 

You playfully glared at him, but squeezed his hand to ensure he knew you were only kidding. “Yes, I want you to take me. I want to have fun with you and my friends. No flask, though.” you added. “I would not stop you from drinking Anna’s liquor, but you needn’t bring reinforcements.”

Matthew mock pouted but conceded. “Oh, very well. You shall have naught but gentlemanly propriety from me.”

He laced his finger through yours over the table, and tapped your ring finger with his free hand. “I see you still have my ring.” he commented. 

You nodded. “I have upheld my end of our deal. I keep it in my pocket at home, as to not have my parents suspect you are courting me in earnest, but I wear it in private.” 

He pressed a kiss to the ring, and said, “You wound me, Y/N. I am courting you in earnest. Was an engagement not the prize of our bargain?”

You blushed. “Well, if they are to think that, it will be when there is an engagement.”

Catching you in your words, he grinned. “When indeed.” 

-

The night of Anna’s party, Matthew, regally and ostentatiously dressed as always, arrived on time in his carriage to escort you. Your parents had known Matthew to be a good friend of yours for 2 years now, and thought little of your sharing a carriage alone. Once inside the carriage, he pointedly showed you his pockets were empty of his flask, and you were pleased he had remembered.

You made an interesting pair upon arrival- you, dressed in an elegant but sensible blue party dress, layers of chiffon secured with a cinching midnight belt, and ivory lace sleeves and collar peeking out beyond the hems. Matthew, on the other hand, wore a brilliant purple waistcoat and evergreen colored blazer, which he quickly discarded in the heat of the party. 

You both drank, though it was clear Matthew exercised effort to be moderate in his drinking, but it was enough for you both to lose inhibitions as he turned you about the makeshift dance floor in Anna’s parlor, you giggling when he dramatically turned you and to your surprise, lifted you off your feet. The two of you staggered away from the dancing couples, laughing, both red faced, as he pulled you against his chest and your laughter was muffled in his shirt. 

He hummed to the piano music, where a vampire had seated herself and begun to play jaunty country dance music from the previous century, but to your surprise, he made no move to release you from his embrace. Neither of you did, really. When you had contained your laughter, you had contentedly rested your cheek against his chest and listened to him hum. He was warm, and the smell of him- clean linen, sandalwood, and the hint of wine that you both had earlier, was at once rich and comforting. You stood like that, lost in the rightness of the feeling of his arms around you, for probably 5 minutes before a voice caused you to jump apart.

“Matthew! Y/N! I take it you two are enjoying yourselves?” Anna asked, sauntering up to your corner of the room. 

You blushed, and busied yourself with adjusting your skirts as Matthew, quick and cunning as ever, invented a story of how yes, you were enjoying yourselves, but you had a sudden dizzy spell and had to leave the dancefloor. He had been steadying you, he claimed, and you nodded along. Anna, an older sibling herself, was a master of seeing through invented stories and gave you a look that said she didn’t believe it for a moment, but it was all good fun. Her attention was grabbed by another partygoer, and she moved on quickly.

You shot Matthew an incredulous look when she passed, and he gave you a bemused smirk. “Horrible thing, corsets? Making girls everywhere faint and swoon.” 

You scoffed and playfully nudged him, but he laughed in response. “I recall you were the one insisting we leave the dance floor.” You pointed out.

“Yes, because you were laughing so hard you could barely breathe!” he exclaimed. 

“Because you-” you set in, but quickly realized you couldn’t remember what had started you two in laughing, and the both of you began laughing again. 

Falling into a comfortable silence, the two of you leaned against the wall behind you, watching other couples dance, drink, and be merry. At some point, you leaned your head against his shoulder, but he didn’t move away. Instead, you felt him shift his weight and rest his head on yours. After a few moments, you yawned, and felt him chuckle beside you.

“Oh Cinderella, has midnight come so soon?” he teased, and you wrinkled your nose in mock disdain. 

“I think it is well after midnight now, and you are hardly Prince Charming.” you retorted.

“Is that so? If I am not, why have you danced only with me all night? If this were a ball, people would say we are in love.”

You were glad then that he couldn’t see your face, because you felt the hot rush of blood invoked by his words. You cleared your throat. “Well, this isn’t a ball.” you pointed out.

“And thank the Angel for that.” he remarked, and drew an arm around your shoulder. “Otherwise, I’m sure you standing alone with me in a corner- and, touching, my Lord,” he feigned shock, and continued, “would be the scandal of the season.”

You laughed. “I think James and Cordelia took that honor already with her confession and their swift marriage.”

You felt him stiffen at the mention, and he replied, “Ah, yes. That would be difficult to beat.” and there was a hint of bitterness in his voice. Wanting to take his mind off of it, you turned out of his grasp and extended a hand.

“Dance one more set with me, and then you may take me home.” You said.

“Methinks the lady doth command boldly.” he said, an eyebrow playfully cocked.

“I believe it is the waltz.” You smiled and added, “And now you can hold me as close as you like and no one will breathe a word of scandal.”

There was a strange, momentary burst of color in his cheeks, but he nodded and took your hand, letting you lead him again onto the dance floor.

-

On the carriage ride back to your house, you were seated on the same bench beside each other, despite having room to sit opposite. You were drowsily leaning into his shoulder, and he was tracing patterns on your hand with his, when he again tapped the ring on your hand. 

“I think you should hide this away before your carriage turns back into a pumpkin, Cinderella. Otherwise your parents will think I am courting you in earnest.” He mused playfully, echoing your earlier words. You yawned and deposited it in your pocket, immediately missing the feeling of it.

“Oh, yes. Thank you for reminding me.” You murmured sleepily. He hummed pleasantly, and then said, “You know, if you did become Y/N Fairchild, we could cause all the scandal in London and no one would be able to scoff.”

You laughed, and replied, “I will consider that when you make your proposal.”

“When indeed.” He remarked again.

[tatooedlaura-blog]

Maybe WE don’t believe in YOU!

It’s throwback Thursday time ... this is a goodie from 2009 (dragged kicking and screaming from Gossamer) ... oi, these things amuse me at times :)

any and all errors are from the original post and have not been changed to preserve giggles and chuckles :)

@today-in-fic​

&&&&&&&&&&

He saw her sitting halfway up the bleachers, amidst yelling parents and clapping children. He knew she'd gone outside a good 15 minutes ago but since she'd neglected to come back, he though he'd better go and collect her. He didn't move fast, more at his usual long-strided amble given there wasn't much to hurry about anymore. Since the police station was next to the elementary school fields, he didn't have far to walk; soon standing beside the rickety aluminum riser seats.

She didn’t notice him at first but when she did a general sweep of her surroundings, as was natural habit at this point, she lit on his face staring up at her and with a barely noticed head-tilt, she gave him a half smile.

Figuring this was an invite of the most discreet kind, he picked his way through the scattered crowd, settling next to her without a word. Silently, they sat together through the last minutes of the game as well as through the exodus of people, kids, strollers and family dogs.

It wasn't until the last person stepped off the field that Mulder turned to her, squinting against the late afternoon sun, "hi."

Pushing her hair back, only to have the light breeze ruffle it again, "hi."

"So, got a little tired of Sheriff Blowhard and his parade of blightless minions?"

"A little. There's only so much blowharding and blightlessness one can take. Besides,” nodding towards the now deserted field, "they looked like they needed another fan."

Knocking shoulders with her gently, "you know, if we get our paperwork done, we can get the hell out of Dodge."

Holding silent for a moment, "promise me our next case won't be like this. I don't think I can do this again anytime soon."

"Well, I'll try to order us up a nice, juicy monster but don't hold your breath."

"Just promise to try. That's all I ask."

One glance into her tired, dull eyes made him nod, "promise."

"All right then." Standing and holding her hand out to him, "let's, as you put it, get the hell out of Dodge."

"If only the place was actually called Dodge."

"Getting the hell out of Parson Village doesn't exactly have the same ring to it, does it?"

Finally down on the ground, they walked back across the parking lot, "not really."

&&&&&&&&&

Working through the last of the forms, they said good-bye and left, glad to be leaving the place behind them. The drive back to the hotel was quiet but a companionable quiet, one where Mulder left the radio off and Scully stared out the open window, enjoying the fresh air and the colors of the setting sun.

Back at the hotel, "do you still want to leave now or wait until the morning?"

He knew she would prefer to go than stay and since he wasn't tired, "now works for me." Checking out went by in a flash and once Mulder had made a not so secretive trip to the vending machines, they were off, "you sure you want to drive first? I'm awake."

Scully just turned the car on, "I'm good for now. I'll let you know when it's your turn."

"Fair enough." Putting his seat back to a decent incline, he settled in, "mind if we keep the windows open for awhile?"

She gave him a smile, "as long as you don't mind me having the wind blown look."

"Naw, you wear it well."

"Okay, now you're just buttering me up."

With a laugh, he rested one arm at his side, the other on the middle compartment, hand dangling by the shifter, "just say thanks, Scully."

"Thanks, Mulder."

He was feeling a bit mischievous but held off until they had been on the road for a few minutes. From his position, he could tell no one else was on the quiet country road and in a fairly nonchalant way, he made like he was turning on the radio but instead, pushed the shifter forward into neutral.

The engine revved, Scully looked around in panic, then saw Mulder's hand beside the stick, "what the hell?" Shoving it back in drive, she swung and hit him near full force in the chest, "are you insane?"

Now for the fun part.

Wincing, he curled his arms to his chest, pretending the blow had actually hurt him, "damn. I was just gonna turn the radio on. I bumped it on accident." Plastering an appropriate grimace on his face, "there's less painful ways to kill me, you know."

Her face scrunching in honest apology, "I'm so sorry. I thought you did it on purpose. I … I'm sorry."

Rubbing his chest for good measure, "remind me to ask before moving next time." The urge to laugh nearly won but he held it in, "I feel extremely sorry for any suspects on the receiving end of your fist."

Automatically reaching over, she wrapped her hand around his forearm, "I'm sorry."

"S'okay." Wondering how long she'd keep her hand there, "was kind of funny though, wasn't it?"

She shrugged, "maybe it will be later but right now, I just feel bad."

"No harm, no foul, right?"

Keeping her hand on him with no sign of letting go, "right."

&&&&&&&&&

They switched places a few hours later, Scully beginning to yawn and stretch to keep herself awake. Mulder, who'd managed a nap, readjusted the seat and mirrors before looking over at her, "all set?" Head already lolling on the seat and eyes closed, she only nodded.  As always amused by the swiftness she could fall asleep, he pulled the car out of the gas station and back on the freeway.She slept for about a half-hour, then woke again when he hit a bump in the road, "sorry."

Shaking the cobwebs from her brain, "no, it's okay." After re-positioning the seat back, she stared out the window for a minute before, "where are we, anyway?"

When he turned to look around, she swiftly reached over, flipping a small switch on the dash, "we're about 10 miles from the middle of nowhere."

"That's specific."

He gave her a lopsided grin before looking back through the windshield.

She wondered how long it would take for him to notice.

Not long, she soon discovered.

Taking a cursory glance at the speedometer, he slammed on the brakes, throwing them both forward slightly, "what the hell?" When he had looked, he saw in horror that he was doing 120. Still talking to himself, "there's no way in hell I was doing 120."

Playing along, "what?! You're going 120? I don't need to die tonight, Mulder."

"I didn't realize …"

"Just slow the hell down!!"

He shrank into the seat and heart pounding, he brought his speed back to 75 but when looking out the window, he would swear they were nearly crawling. She then watched him look from the speedometer to the road to the speedometer once again, then to the smile she couldn't contain, "why the hell are all the gauges in metrics now?"

Reaching over, she re-flipped the switch, turning everything back to normal, "did you really think I'd let the neutral thing go unanswered?"

Instead of being annoyed, he looked at her admirably, "nice."

&&&&&&&&&

She was sound asleep again an hour later when Mulder discovered he was contemplating how long he could shut his eyes before it got dangerous. Poking his finger into Scully's thigh, "hey, you awake?"

When she only mumbled, he knew they were both done for the night but with only an hour left to go, he debated pushing it.

Until he heard his tires running on the rumble strip.

Yeah, it was time to stop.

Especially when he saw it … a bright beacon of hope in the distance.

Wal-Mart.

24-hour, anyone can sleep in the damn parking lot, beautiful, shiny Wal-Mart.

He pulled off the exit ramp and soon, he stopped the car in the center of a vast expanse of parking lot. Cracking the windows so they wouldn’t suffocate, he put his seat back, stretched and promptly fell asleep.

A blissful sleep that lasted almost a full two hours, until, “what the hell?”

The sound of her voice jolted him upright and his hand caught the horn, beeping it obnoxiously as he blinked against the painfully bright light in his eyes, “huh?”

By now, she was rolling down the window and being the least polite he’d ever heard her, “what!?”

The flashlight lowered but all Mulder could see was the spot it had burned into his retinas. The spot spoke in a low, male voice, “evenin’ folks.”

Again, Scully rolled off with, “what!?!”

“Just wanted to make sure you were all right.”

He could feel Scully building rapidly towards some other, more improper phrases and heading her off with a hand on her arm, “we were tired and thought we’d take a nap instead of wrapping ourselves around a telephone pole.” As the spot began to fade, he could make out an older gentleman behind the lowered flashlight, “I thought people could park and sleep here for the night?”

“RVs can park but ya’ll aren’t in an RV so I thought maybe you were havin’ some trouble.”

Hearing Scully sigh resignedly through her nose, he spoke again, “no trouble, sir. Just tired.”

“Well, ya’ll be careful.”

As he turned and walked away, Mulder looked at her irate expression, “hi.”

“You’re coming with me.”

“Where?”

Unbuckling her belt, “I have to go to the bathroom and you’re coming with me.”

Opening his door, “why are you pissed at me? I didn’t scare the shit out of you with a flashlight.”

“Just come on.”

She stalked across the parking lot, Mulder trotting to catch up, then settling into an easy gait until they got to the store entrance, “are you gonna make me come in with you or do I get to wait outside the door?”

With eyes narrowed, she left him in the entryway and disappeared into the ladies room. Deciding to go himself, he still beat her back and was leaning on the wall when she came out drying her hands on her jeans. She seemed calmer and leaning next to him, “I’m hungry.”

Gesturing through the doors that led to the actual store, “I bet there’s something in there, if you’re willing to risk it.”

“Lead the way, partner.” Both were shocked by the amount of people in the store, “what time is it anyway?”

Finding her wrist with his hand, he twisted her watch around until he could read it, “um, 1:15.”

“Why are all these people here? Don’t they have homes and beds?”

“Insomniacs make the best shoppers.”

She let a small chuckle escape her nose, “just find me something to eat.”

Well, she should have known not to A) shop when she was hungry and 2) shop with Mulder. She should have also put her foot down when he suggested getting a cart.

An hour later, they were finally through the checkout.

Scully had found some sandwiches, drinks and chips for them both, then stupidly gave Mulder control of the cart. He immediately steered towards the entertainment section and was soon pawing through the $3.99 DVD bin.

That killed a half-hour right there. Damn those bins and their B-movie classics.

After he’d found several handfuls of movies, he veered through men’s clothing for socks, housewares for a new shower curtain (which Scully silently thanked God about), hardware to replace the two flashlights he’d left in their hotel rooms, back to menswear  for the underwear he’d forgot on the first trip (black boxer briefs, much to Scully’s amusement), then finally through women’s clothing, where he stopped in front of a rack of slogan t-shirts.

Standing for a moment, he studied them, then picked one up with an alien beside a spaceship who was pointing out and stating, “maybe WE don’t believe in you.” Holding it against her for a second, he tossed it in the cart and finally moved to the check-out.

She followed, dumbfounded by the last hour of her life, “Mulder … why …?”

“Shhhh, it’s too late to argue and too early to win.”

Whatever the hell that meant, she graciously allowed him to pay for their food, along with the industrial size Payday bar she tossed in at the last minute.

&&&&&&&&&&&

As they ate their makeshift dinner sitting in the car, “why did you buy me that t-shirt? Do you really think I’m gonna wear it?”

Grinning with a mouthful of half-chewed turkey, “you will. You’ll be getting dressed for something and you’ll just get the urge to put it on. So you will and you’ll realize you like it and that’ll be that.”

“Is this how you get your shopping done because I can see why your cupboards are bare.”

“Never ask about a man’s shopping habits.”

“Mulder?”

“Yeah?”

“Trade you sandwiches?”

He handed the rest of his sandwich to her immediately, taking her partially eaten roast beef in its place, “no dressing?”

“Nope.”

“So much to teach you, grasshopper.”

&&&&&&&&&

“I’ll drive if you want me to.”

Scully shook her head, “naw, I’m fine.”

“Well, I’m not tired now so I’ll keep you awake.”

With a grin in his direction, “God help me.”

“God’s probably asleep Scully. All you got is me.”

“Again, God help me.”

&&&&&&&&&&

They were finally navigating Washington’s outskirts by 3:30. He watched her staring ahead and fought the demon lurking inside him.

He really shouldn’t.

He really, really shouldn’t.

It would be evil and wrong and cruel and more than likely funny as all hell … if she didn’t kill him afterwards.

 …

He’d risk it.

Waiting another minute or so, he spied a light blinking in the distance and as they approached it, he braced his feet against the floor. Once they were about 10 feet away, he yelled, gripping the dashboard and the doorframe, “blinking yellow!!!”

She locked up the brakes, as expected, and bought the car to a screeching halt. The stop flung both forward, then back against their seats, with Scully screaming in his ear, “son of a bitch … it’s yellow Mulder! I don’t have to stop for a blinking yellow!”

Looking at her with as much seriousness as he could muster, “I didn’t tell you to stop.”

“Then why the hell did you yell ‘blinking yellow’ in my ear!?”

“I didn’t know if you saw it.”

He had never witnessed her nostrils flaring before and though he wouldn’t admit it out loud, she looked kind of cute doing it but … “are you trying to get us killed?”

He was now smiling despite the fact she had steam shooting out her ears, “there was no one behind us. I checked.”

Another nostril flare came his way before she turned the car off, still sitting in the middle of the intersection, got out and moving to his side of the car, pulled open the door, “drive.”

Still grinning, he scrambled over the gearshift, Scully sliding smoothly into his seat, putting her head back and closing her eyes.

Silence, he had not expected. Yelling, hitting, yes but not quiet. Quiet from Scully meant planning, concocting, calculating, organizing … quiet meant bad things … quiet meant very deep piles of shit with him underneath.

“Scully …”

“Home.”

Suddenly sober, he restarted the car, “I was just playing.”

“Home,” she repeated, then, instead of returning to sleep, she dug some gum from the glove compartment and proceeded to chew a wad of it, very loudly.

Now, he could take bullets, he could take slime, he could take beratement of the highest degree and, as demonstrated, he could even take bile but he absolutely despised the cud-chewing noises she was making. He withstood it for a long as humanly possible before, “could you please get rid of that? You sound like a damn cow.”

“You want me to get rid of the gum?”

“Yes!”

“Where do you want me to put it?”

His mistake was answering too quickly, “anywhere. I don’t care. Just stop chewing it.”

“Okay then.” Undoing her seatbelt, she twisted so she faced him, and in a gracefully disgusting move, she rolled the gum in her fingers, then proceeded to push it up his nose.

He knew something was coming and completely powerless to stop it, he just sat there as a thumb-size chunk of grape Hubba-Bubba was fitted into his right nostril.

She then calmly sat back down and re-buckled herself in.

He left the gum there as he turned to her, “Scully?”

“Yes, Mulder.”

“I believe we’re even now.”

Her belly laugh echoed off the windows and he began laughing as well, slipping the gum from his nose and putting it in his mouth.

Through her laughter, she grimaced, “eww, that’s disgusting.”

“But it’s grape.”

&&&&&&&&&

They finally made it to Mulder’s apartment and since her brain had drifted completely, she didn’t really notice where they were until he stopped the car, “why are we here?”

“Literally or existentially because I don’t think I can take a metaphysical discussion at the moment?”

“Literal.”

“You drove. You drop me off then drive yourself home.”

“Where’s your car, Mulder?”

Pointing to where he always parked, he saw an empty spot, “your house.” His head dropped to the steering wheel, “damn.” Looking at her out of the corner of his eye, “I’ll take you home.”

“No. I want out of the damn car and I want to go to sleep. Right now.”

“Then grab the bags from the store … I’ll get the suitcases.” They managed to make it in his door before dropping everything simultaneously. Mulder then re-picked up her bag and set it in his bedroom, “I’ll take the couch.”

“No, I will. I shoved gum up your nose.”

“And I yelled ‘blinking yellow’.”

Contemplating for a half second, “you’re right.”

He gave her a grin, “just help me change the sheets first.” Nodding, she had the bed stripped by the time he came back with a clean set. They finished in no time and he stepped back, nodding his head, “two people make that way faster.”

“Anytime Mulder but for now, I’m using your bathroom then going to bed.”

“Aye, aye captain.”

Meeting him in the hall on the way back from the bathroom, “g’night, Mulder.”

“’Morning, Scully.”

Before going to the bedroom, she grabbed one last thing, then changed, crawled under the clean sheets and was out before her head hit the pillow.

&&&&&&&&&&

He woke up leisurely. The phone hadn’t rung, no one had knocked on his door, obnoxious garbage men hadn’t rattled the dumpsters … he had woken up because he had finally caught up on his sleep. Marveling at the idea, he stood and moved silently towards his bedroom to check to see if she was awake yet.

Finding her spread eagle on her stomach, covers twisted around her and bare leg sticking out, foot hanging off the side of the bed, he nearly laughed when he saw her wearing the neon green t-shirt he’d bought the night before.

Deciding to let her sleep, he went to the bathroom, then made himself a bowl of cereal. By the time he’d sat down with his second helping, he heard the creak of his bedroom door. Looking up, he saw her standing there, hair tousled, eyes partially open, wearing only the t-shirt, which fell to mid-thigh. Swallowing the frogs in her throat, “’morning.”

After a glance at the DVD player’s clock, “afternoon.” Without comment, she padded across the cool floor and dropped down next to him, curling her legs underneath her. Covering them with his blanket, she reached over, took the spoon and helped herself to a large spoonful of cereal. Shaking the milk off, she had it nearly to her mouth when he finally spoke, “I thought you said you’d never wear that shirt?”

As the cereal entered her mouth, her lips quivered in the slightest of smiles, “shut up, Mulder.”

[sweetwritertanya]

Happy Valentine’s Day (Jungkook)

Summary: You thought this Valentine’s Day would be the last one with your boyfriend Jungkook, who had been distant the past month. However, as it turns out, it’s quite the opposite.

Warnings: SMUT! With a surprising amount of angst at the beginning that I didn’t really plan, I wanted to keep things fluffy and smutty, but somehow it turned out like this. Anyway, be aware of: erotic body touching, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex (yet again, is anyone surprised), against wall sex.

Word Count: 3934

Since the beginning of the year, your worst fear had been coming true. Somehow you always suspected this would happen, that was how little confidence you had in this relationship. In yourself, really. The fact that you got to date Jungkook at all was just some cosmic mistake, surely.

He was just too good to be true. Not only was he the most handsome man you had the opportunity to lay your eyes on, with big brown eyes, a perfect button nose, kissable lips, strong jawline and a fit body to envy, but he was exceptionally caring and loving at the same time. All wrapped up in a shy but eager package of a man.

What he saw in you, you had no idea. You were beyond curvy, you had fat rolls down your sides, squishy arms, a soft jawline, large stomach and wiggling thighs. Not everyone always cared for a body like yours, something you knew since a long time. And you were certain that you were just not what Jungkook was looking for in a girlfriend. Until he asked you out.

For almost a year now, it felt like you had been living a dream. With fun dates, shaky hands holding yours in his, blushing cheeks and shy kisses. Tickles and laughing under the sheets. You honestly started to believe he actually loved you. And you had long fallen deep for him.

But since the first days of January, Jungkook had gone distant. He would spend most of his free time away from you, mostly on the gym. Whenever you asked him to come by your apartment and stay over like he usually did, he would find some excuse to not show up or leave early. Like he didn’t want to be there anymore.

So, when Valentine’s Day arrived, you didn’t even bother to ask him about it. In your mind, you were counting the days until he came by to break up with you. It made your stomach turn awfully and heart ache to even think about it.

You were watching some soppy romantic comedy on the TV, feeling worse about yourself as the beautiful main lead got the man of her dreams and her happy ending, when there was a knock on your door. You frowned, not expecting any one and checking on your phone that no one called to tell you they were coming.

“Who is it?” you asked from behind the close door.

“It’s me, Y/N” you recognized Jungkook’s voice.

You heart dropped. He wouldn’t be so cold hearted to break up on Valentine’s Day, right? You shook your head and brushed away such a thought from your mind. He was too much of a sweet person for that.

“Kook, what are you…” You lost your train of thought when you opened the door and saw him.

It felt like so long since you last saw him. He was wearing a black suit, with straight pants down to his shiny black shoes and a fitted blazer over the black turtle neck he had underneath. The silver buttons stood out against the dark outfit and matched his rings and piercings on his ears. Hair straightened and voluminous around his sculptured face.

He was holding a single red rose on his hands, enclosed in a clear wrapping paper with small baby-breaths around it. Coughing shyly, he held it with both hands towards you, a small smile on his pink lips.

“Happy Valentine’s day, baby” he wished.

A bit taken back, truly not expecting anything from him, you took it silently from his hands, unsure of what to do. Jungkook placed his hands on his pockets, fidgeting a bit in his place, apparently a bit nervous.

“Hum, can… Can I come in for a second?” he shyly asks, taking you out of your trance.

“Oh, yeah, sure.”

You allow him in and close the door behind him, going to the kitchen next and finding a glass to fill with water and place the rose inside.

“So, I wanna take you somewhere with me today” he shared, leaning against the kitchen table.

“What? Why didn’t you tell me, I would have gotten ready beforehand!” you reproach, being clothed in some old leggings and a stained hoodie.

“We have all the time in the world if you want to go and change. Can I wait for you in here?”

“Of course. Okay, give me a few minutes. Is it somewhere very fancy?” you ask, already going towards your bedroom door.

“No, not at all. Dress however you like” he told you, crossing his arms and sitting on a chair at the kitchen table.

Somehow you doubted that, when he was so well dressed himself. Sighing, you got in your bedroom and thanked your past self for taking a shower earlier in the day, meaning you only had to style your hair a bit, since it was properly washed.

You stared at your wardrobe for a few minutes before deciding that, if this was your only Valentine’s Day with Jungkook, you wanted to look your best and make it memorable. So you picked out a royal blue dress you had never worn, with a deep sweetheart neckline and cold shoulder short sleeves, a thin sparkling belt at the smallest part of your waist and a skirt that fell to your knees in a straight line, your wide hips making it curvier. A bit of makeup, curled hair and a long coat on top, you got out of your bedroom with your nude heels already on.

Jungkook looked up from his phone to regard you when he heard the door open and choked. You looked absolutely exquisite, your voluptuous form filling out your dress amazingly, curvaceous legs on display for him to see and resist the temptation to brush his hands up the soft skin. When you bent down to pick your purse, his eyes were drawn to the deep cleavage and he marveled at the roundness of your breasts, hands itching.

“Ready. Should we go?” You innocently ask, completely unaware of the effect you had on the boy. He cleared his throat, looking away from your eyes in embarrassment, and got up from the chair he was still seating on.

“Y-Yeah, it’s a short drive” he informed, meeting you at the door of your apartment.

While in the car, Jungkook couldn’t help but notice how silent you were while he drove. Although you had your quiet moments, you were usually more conversational than this and it had him worried.

“Is… Is everything alright, Y/N?” he hesitantly asked.

You pressed your lips together nervously, playing with your fingers on your lap as you tried to decide if it was a good idea to get into it while on the car. You honestly just wanted to ignore everything that made you sad about his recent behavior, but you knew you could never have a good time by pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t.

“I didn’t… I didn’t think you would show up today, that’s all” you confessed, eyes kept on your hands. “You haven’t been very present lately.”

Jungkook bit the inside of his cheek, not quite ready to tell you why yet.

“Yeah, sorry about that. But I’ve been very busy. And I’ve been working out a lot at the gym.” It was the truth, although not the complete truth he wished he could tell you right then and there. But he had to be patient and await the right moment.

You breathed in shakily, feeling extremely uncomfortable with tears pooling on your eyes.

“Are… Are you going to break up with me, Jungkook?”

The wheels of the car screeched and the car behind yours beeped as Jungkook almost let the car break down. His heart was hammering against his chest and panic was getting in the way of his breathing. Thankfully he was almost at his destination.

“W-What? Why d-do you think that?!” He questions in stammers, brown eyes as large as saucers, trying to focus on the road.

“Sorry! Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up, I’m sorry” you immediately apologize, beating yourself up for voicing your concerns like this.

Jungkook pulls up and parks the car at the edge of the road, taking his seatbelt and turning to you with a fearful expression. You couldn’t quite look him in the eyes.

“I don’t wanna break up! Far from it!” he stated with determination and a bit of panic behind his words.

“Then… then why have you been so distant? For the last month, you have barely come to see me, I thought you grew tired of me and wanted to break up” you finally voice your fears, looking at him with glassy eyes, tears threatening to fall.

“That…! I was…! Damn it” he stumbled with his own words, banging his fist on the car wheel when he couldn’t get the right words out. “Just come with me and I’ll explain everything.”

He got out of the car in a hurry, running to your side of the vehicle and helping you stand up. You noticed how the hand he intertwined with yours seemed to be shaking a bit. He pulled you to the other side of the road and you frowned in confusion when he guided you through the front yard of a two story house, stopping at the main door.

Turning towards you and taking a deep breath, he pulled something from his pocket and looked at you. For the first time, you noticed how red his eyes seemed to be as well, making your heart clench in pain at the thought of hurting him.

“The main reason I was so busy was because of this.” He showed you a key he had in his hand and, with it, opened the door for the house you were in. “I bought a house.”

You gasped.

“You got a house?” You were astonished. He never talked about wanting to move.

“Yeah, I’ve been looking at a bunch of houses with the help of my hyungs” he shared, leaving the door open and turning back to you. “That’s why I’ve been so busy after work. And it is true I’ve been to the gym a lot. Mainly, because I really wanted to do this.”

Suddenly, Jungkook leaned down and, with an arm on your back and the other at the back of your knees, lifted you up in his arms bridal style, much to your disbelief.

“Wha-! Jungkook, I’m heavy, put me down!” you yelled at him. He had never picked you up like this before, just maybe momentarily every once in a while.

He ignored you and, with you in his arms, carried you inside the house and closed the door with his foot. You would have paid more attention to the house itself if you weren’t still amazed at how easily he was holding you up.

“I’ve been working out so I could do this. I wanted to carry you like this throughout the whole house” he explained, twirling you both around and making you giggle as you cleaned the water at the corner of your eyes.

“You’ve been going to the gym so you can pick me up?” you repeat, still in disbelief.

“I could already pick you up. You’re not as heavy as you seem to think, Y/N. But I wanted to build up my strength so I don’t get tired as easily” he corrected, smiling shyly with tainted cheeks.

“Kook, you idiot… I thought you didn’t care for me anymore! I thought you were about to leave me!” you complained, tears coming back.

Jungkook put you down just so he could cradle your face close to his and clean your tears away, speaking softly with you as he did so.

“Far from it, so far from it, baby. I… Damn it, this is not how intended to ask this but… Y/N, will you move in with me? Live with me here, Y/N.”

Your bottom jaw falls in disbelief at his words, completely taken back and unable to understand what he just asked you. The tears he had cleaned up were suddenly replaced by a whole bunch of others, much to his concern.

“Y-Y/N? Wait, I’m sorry, if… if you don’t want to, it’s okay. I-It was a dumb idea, I’m s-” he was panicking at your tears.

“Yes” you interrupted him, a smile spreading on your lips as you looked up into his eyes. “Yeah, I’ll move in with you, Kook. I love you.”

Chuckling out of pure relief and happiness, all the sadness of the last month completely fading away at his explanation, you stand on your tippy toes and join your lips together with his. You felt him sigh in relief under your lips and a smile forming as the mouths move together in sync with each other, your arms surrounding his neck and his arms around your plushy waist. Jungkook tentatively skimmed his tongue across your lower lip and you opened your mouth to allow him access.

The kiss deepened and tongues slipped against each other, skin growing warmer and air becoming thicker around you two. Your mouths only separated when you gasped in surprise as Jungkook descended his arms from your waist to bellow your ample ass cheeks and pulled you up, your heavy legs automatically wrapping around his waist in the process.

“Jungkook! What are you doing?” you asked as he started moving with you straddling his waist, his mouth clinging to your neck.

“Taking you to the bedroom” he simply said against your skin.

You blushed at the same time you smiled, heart beating fondly against your ribcage.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself, I can walk there” you stated.

“This is what I’ve been working for, let me have this” he asked of you, licking your earlobe to make you stop talking, knowing how sensitive it was.

“Ahh… You’re so stubborn.”

“No, I’m determined. I really enjoy having you in my arms like this, baby.”

Claiming your mouth so you wouldn’t talk back, Jungkook took you up the stairs, stopping every other step to push you to the wall and kiss you heavily, impatience starting to bubble up from the way your hands had already found themselves beneath his blazer and turtle neck, scratching at the skin of his muscular back and teasing the skin under the hem of his trousers.

Thankfully, the house was already fully furnished and there was a bed made for Jungkook to lay you in, moving away from your luscious body in order to get rid of his clothes. Your coat had already been left downstairs, all you had on was your dress.

You sat up in bed to watch your boyfriend strip, breath getting caught in your throat at every inch of him. He was so beautiful, his muscles even more defined after so much time at the gym, skin so radiant and smooth. You had no idea what you did to deserve him.

Coming back to kneel on the bed beside you clad in only his boxers, Jungkook held the back of your neck with one hand as he kisses your lips deeply again, the other hand finding the zipper of the dress and pulling it down. He had you on your back as he undressed your top, kisses following the skin his hands uncovered. His mouth pecked at your round shoulders, down your neck, to the dip between your breasts left in a black bra, down your pudgy stomach.

He started pulling at the skirt of the dress and you lifted your hips so he could take the dress all the way off, leaving you in your underwear.

You watched as Jungkook took you in head to toe, trembling a bit before returning your gaze.

“You look so good, Y/N. Can I have you like this every day? Can I wake up with you beside me all my mornings and kiss your pretty skin like this?” he asked with lust blown eyes and red cheeks, hovering above you in his forearms, hands brushing the skin of your face.

You held his face in between your hands, eyes looking between both of his, amazed at the love behind them.

“Yeah, Kookie. For as long as you want” you promised him.

He groaned and united your lips again for a searing kiss, goosebumps awakening up your spine and a wet discomfort becoming unbearable in between your legs, as his hands found your breasts and started to fondle with them over your bra. He left your mouth to start leaving wet kisses down your skin again, pulling the cup of your bra just slightly down and taking the nipple that stood out into his warm lips.

You squirmed as his tongue played with the little nub, your nails scratching at his strong shoulders as the electric shocks of pleasure it instigated. His tongue swirled around it and then his teeth pulled at the nipple, a wail escaping you at that.

Understanding how hot and bothered you were, Jungkook’s head traveled down your body until he was kissing your fleshy thighs, strong hands opening your legs so he could stand in between them.

“Ah, Jungkook… Please” you begged shamefully.

Hearing your request, he took off your drenched panties from your body, his face now mere inches from your hot center, dripping with want and need for him. Your body jolted and you saw sparkles at the first movement of his tongue, up and down your folds, tasting your sweetness like a starved men. You writhed and moaned under his demanding mouth, sucking and lapping at every right spot that had your muscles trembling with the need to let go.

At the sounds you were making, Jungkook felt himself growing painfully hard under his boxers and it made him want to move things along. He sucked on your clit harshly, licking it right after and repeating the process until you were completely drenched in your juices, about to reach your end. But he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Ahh, ahhh… N-No, don’t stop!” It would have made you blush the whine in your voice as he lifted his head from between your legs, if you weren’t already completely flushed head to toe.

“I’m sorry, baby, I can’t take it! Can’t wait anymore” he huffed in a painful voice, and you saw how he had pulled his boxers down and was stroking himself, his beautiful cock so incredibly flush and burning red, crown covered in his own overflowing juices already. Your insides clenched hard and you whined again.

“I want you so bad, Y/N!” Jungkook whimpered, his hand growing faster as he looked pleading at you.

“I want you too, Jungkook. Hurry, please, please!” you rushed him, opening your arms so he would take you.

However, instead of getting on top of you like you assumed he would, Jungkook pulled you by your extended arms and grabbed your wide hips, one hand on your back and another on your butt cheek as he stood up with you in his arms and pushed your back against the wall, hissing at the friction of his erection against your burning slit.

“Damn it…” he cursed under his breath. “A-Against the wall, like this. Can we do it like this?”

You would have complained, you would have worried about how heavy you were, about tiring him too much or risking you falling from his arms or he falling after carrying you for so long, but your brain was so completely clouded with need and he felt so damn good against your aching entrance that you would have agreed to absolutely anything at that point just to have him inside.

“Yeah! Yeah, Kook, yes, please-”

With wavering breaths, Jungkook lifts your hips just enough to position himself against your entrance and when you slide back down, back rubbing a bit against the wall, he is completely bottomed out inside of you. You moan so loud, arms tightening around his shoulder and neck, legs crossing at his lower back, feeling him so incredibly deep.

A cross between a grunt and a whimper escapes Jungkook lips too, his cock completely surrounded by your throbbing, hot and wet silk walls, pleasure running thorough his veins at the feeling. It feels so good he doesn’t even process the weight of you in his arms, all he feels is your body pressed against his and he automatically is thrusting up into your hole, you being completely at the mercy of his movements.

He starts yanking his hips, slowly at first, building up a pace that had you biting your lips. A deep tense pull of nerves starts forming on your lower belly and you yearn for more. Jungkook’s shaft is rubbing your walls just right, this new angle enticing new sensations you never felt, your back against the wall cooling your skin down only for his movements to heat it back up. But then he starts picking up speed, pounding into you so fast that the friction against the wall starts hurting a bit, but it only expands the feeling of pleasure somehow.

Jungkook feels incredible as he holds you like this, he feels so strong and manly. Through half-closed eyes he sees your face constricted in pleasure, he feels the reverberations of each of his thrusts on your flesh, jiggling so delectably on his hands. It almost undoes him.

The sound of skin slapping skin and the sounds of your wetness mixes in with your moans and his grunts, heavy breaths from both of you. Jungkook grabs your ass cheeks and moves you away from the wall, holding you close as his pelvis keeps slamming fast against yours and it’s stimulating your clit at the same time he rubs the spot inside, making you cry out as your stomach falls and your inner walls spasm uncontrollably around him, coating him with your juices as you cum violently.

“Ahh, Y/N! Y/N, Y/N!”

Jungkook cums in just a handful more of thrusts into your still throbbing tunnel, blood roaring against his ears and mind going blank as spikes of electricity rush through him, shaft twitching inside of you as he releases white strings against your walls.

Spent, Jungkook falls back and thankfully he lands with you on top at the bed, sweating and flushed but satisfied in every level. You are trying to control your heart and regain your breath on top of him, never in your life having considered it possible to have sex in such a position due to your weight.

“Jungkook?” you call, head on his chest hearing his heart beating loudly under his skin.

“Yeah?” he breathily responds.

“When you were going to the gym, you were envisioning doing this to me, weren’t you?”

He stays silent for a moment and then turns you over, so you are suddenly on your back. You whimper at the sudden loss of him against you, but have no time to focus on that when he is right in front of your face, large eyes staring at you with red cheeks and swollen lips.

“Shut up.”

He kisses you and you giggle into the kiss, knowing you were right and he just didn’t want to admit it. He pecks at your lips, then at the corners, then at your flushed cheeks and sweaty forehead.

“Let me go see if our shower is working.”

Your heart does a complete flip at the word ‘our’ and you know then and there that he was going to be your forever and always, the love of your life.

[hitsuackerman]

Unpredictable (Overhaul x Reader) pt.29

warnings: this cannot be read solo

Links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19, part 20, part 21, part 22, part 22, part 23, part 23.5, part 24, part 25, part 26, part 27, part 28, part 30

Masterlist to my other fics: here :) (that has not been updated for how many months now... proceed with caution~)

“And that's about it.” You clicked the send button and stretched your limbs.

You weren’t too sure how many hours had passed but after venting it all out to Tsukauchi, you felt much better. The weight you carried still lingered but your mind was much clearer now. Looking at the office window, the skies were now a shade of pink. Not in the mood for cheap coffee, you stood up and took a peak at Tsukauchi’s desk.

Papers scrawled and pens scattered, Tsukauchi’s head was resting on his arms as he too snoozed off. Finding his sticky notes, you left him a small message telling him where you would be going.

You could always head home and freshen up but with the small window of time, the chief might call you out for being tardy. He’d been leaving you alone for the past few weeks and you hoped it would last a bit longer.

Making your way towards the cafe, you marveled at the emptiness the streets had. Quite some time had passed since the last time you took an all nighter. Now that you think about it, ever since that injury, you have been able to get an adequate amount of rest. Every now and then, food would be delivered followed by a text complaining how you were annoying.

Entering the cafe, you walked towards the counter. Greeted by a rather huge smile, all you could give was a forced one.

“Do you h-”

“Someone already ordered for you.” The cashier said. Telling you to wait, you went to a vacant table and took your phone out. It barely took 3 minutes before she came back holding a paper bag. “Shinoda-san has already paid the bill so you’re good to go~”

“How kind of him…” You took the bag and exited the building. The streets slowly getting congested as the seconds ticked by. Dialling his number, he picked up after the 4th ring. “Thanks for breakfast.”

“I put it on a tab.” Overhaul replied. His voice was muffled by his mask. “Everything I bought for you has been recorded and will be sent to you monthly.”

“That’s just mean…”

“That’s what you get for working overtime and not going home as we had agreed.”

“It was last minute, you dumbass.” You huffed but knew he was teasing. “Are you waiting for me to say ‘I’ll make it up to you. What can I do for you, Chisaki?’ or something like that?”

“Perhaps. It is still quite early but I did come bearing news.” He paused and you could hear papers shuffling. “I feel as though you already know that the Fukuo Kai case will start in about a week or two. I was thinking perhaps we should have a private meeting.”

“With Tsukauchi?” You stopped walking.

“Are you that dense?”

“I’m kidding. What do you wanna do?” Finding a nearby bench, you took a seat and took the sandwich out.

“I recall someone saying that their definition of a good date was something along the lines of ‘You and Me against the world?’”

“Go on…” The smile building on your face couldn’t be kept hidden anymore.

“I’ve booked us tickets. If things go as planned then perhaps the day after the Fukuo Kai case would be a good end to all this.”

“A parting gift I presume?” The smile slowly faded when you remembered what came after. The sandwich now tasted horrible. You waited for him to speak up but there was nothing but silence. “Alright. The day after the case sounds good.”

“I’ll pick you up at 6. Wear something nice.”

Ending the call, you stared at your sandwich. A week or two then once that’s passed, it wouldn’t be long before Overhaul’s case would be pushed to your priority list. Looking back towards the direction of the precinct, you decided to save the sandwich for later.

Now that you were seated and facing your computer once more, you decided to recheck your schedule.

Sure enough, there really was less than 3 weeks left of the Fukuo Kai case before things would finally be handed over. A meeting with the chief was also in store a few days from now to go over the plans for the raid. Upon further scrolling, you noted how Tsukauchi had set up a date for a stake out. Clicking on the attached comment, you wondered as to why it had taken this amount of time for them to make their move.

“You awake yet, Nao?” You knocked on your cubicle.

“Barely.” He grumbled. “What’s up?”

“Regarding this stake out, do you think we can push it to 4 days from now?”

“I’m not really sure. It’ll depend on Overhaul since he will be your partner for that one.” He leaned to take a peek at your station.

“Overhaul? Why?”

“Dunno. I just thought that it’s been a while since you two teamed up.” He shrugged as he dragged his chair closer to yours. “But it’s mostly because my schedule doesn’t fit. I have to meet up with All Might for the whole week. I did ask a few others but you can guess they turned it all down out of fear.”

“Hmm. No surprise.” You tapped your index finger on the mouse. Reminding yourself to call him later regarding the sudden change of plans, you leaned on your chair. “Who’s going to be in this meeting with chief?”

“The two of you and Shinezu.”

“Poor guy.”

“It’ll do him good. Speaking of which, we have to go over the initial plan for the raid. Do you wanna do it today or save it for some other time?” Choosing the first option, Tsukauchi nodded and went back to his desk. Grabbing the necessary documents, he waited for you to prepare and led you towards a private meeting room.

“Now that we're at it,” You took the adjacent seat. “What are the updates? I haven’t really heard anything about them for quite some time now.”

“Heh. Things got a little more complicated during your sick leave.” Sliding one folder, he waited for your reaction. Seeing how your eyes widened, he let out an exhausted sigh. “As if one organization is enough, having to deal with an alliance means more trouble for us.”

“Tsk. Damn it. When did you gather this information? What source did you get this from?”

“Believe it or not, the chief actually did some work and gave us this as some sort of peace offering.”

Peace offering? What was the man planning?

“When did you receive this?” You carefully read the details.

“If I recall, it was the day before you came back to work.” He shyly scratched his nape. “It’s kinda my fault, though. I honestly forgot to inform you regarding this information.”

“It’s fine.” You assured him. “I’m thankful you didn’t relay the information right then and there. So, it says here that we infiltrate them at their headquarters. The information was true? Their headquarters are downtown?”

“That’s right. The intel we gathered showed us that movement around that certain street has picked up. Akuji was spotted as well. He’s been involved from the very start, I presume?”

“Well, he was at that gala and the head of the Fukuo Kai gave him a business card. It’s only logical he is. But to go there in person only means bad things. Any ideas?”

“If it were a higher ups meeting, Overhaul should’ve been there. Unless they know he’s involved with us?”

“He’s not.” Overhaul was shady but you trusted him enough that he would have told you if he were called to attend a gathering. For once, he was in the clear. Or so you hoped. You’d have to inquire about that once you call him later. “My guess is that they too are finalizing whatever plan they have in store. With that being said, have you any clue as to what their main agenda is now?”

“We suspect that their main agenda now is to take over at least 50 percent of the yakuza network. Overhaul’s connections are rather large so they must be feeling pretty confident to make a move now.” Tsukauchi rested his chin on his index finger. “Akuji was one person we saw. The other one was Tamisura.”

“Hmm. Any sighting of Nokusu?” It had been a while since you last mentioned their names. The last time you spoke of them was days before the gala. Tamisura, with the momentum like quirk, and Nokusu with his shadow manipulation quirk.

“None. I am not confident whether or not it is safe to assume that they have declined the invitation to take part with the Fukuo Kai.” He shrugged. “I just kinda wished it was Nokusu we were dealing with and not Tamisura. We barely know anything about her quirk.”

“I’ll ask chief about his encounter.” You answered. “Perhaps the other precincts can provide us with some information. Whether it be big or small, we’ll take it. I do agree with you, though. It just had to be her.”

“Try asking Overhaul too. Perhaps they know something about her.” He watched as you nodded. “As for the plan, there aren’t too many changes from before. Overhaul will have to carry our asses for the last part but I feel as though he can do his part well.”

“I hope so.”

With the minor details now explained, you found yourself walking towards the chief’s office. Closing your eyes and sending off as silent prayer, you only hoped things would be fine. Knocking on the door, he gave you the permission to enter.

“Chief.” You greeted him.

“Oh~ (Y/N).” He closed the folder and motioned for you to sit down. “How can I help my favorite star, hmm?”

“I just wanted to ask you about Tamisura. What exactly did you see regarding her quirk?”

“Ah.” He leaned on this squeaky chair’s back. “Fine woman, I might say. Her quirk made her move at insane speeds. Because of the momentum, it was rather hard to stop her. When she moves, a trail of yellow light follows her. If my memory serves me right, then, I believe it would take her awhile to fully use her quirk?”

“Like charging herself?”

“Don’t take my word for it.” He raised both his hands up. “During that particular instance, one of my men noticed how she kept distance before attacking. Perhaps that’s the downside to her quirk. As for the duration, I cannot give any information.”

“This is more than enough.” You stood up and bowed. “Thank you for the cooperation and I apologize for disturbing you.”

“Anything for you, my star~” He winked.

Suppressing a groan, you awkwardly smiled and hurriedly left the room. Your prayers had been heard and the interaction was clean. The given information wasn’t much but it was something. Taking your phone out, you dialed Overhaul.

Strangely enough, he didn’t answer. Then again, you were sure he was doing whatever he did at 9am in the morning. The mental image you had as to what his activities were were rather vague but you could only hope he wouldn’t indulge in them too much. Who were you kidding? He was messed up. You were too for harboring feelings.

Not wanting to stay any longer, you informed Tsukauchi that you would be heading home.

When you locked your car doors, your phone rang. Checking who it was, you immediately answered it.

“You called?”

“I know it’s sudden but you think you can clear your schedule for me?”

“What exactly do you need, Problem Child?”

“I just wanna ask you a few questions about the Fukuo Kai case.”

“Does it have to be in person?” His voice was rather teasing. Admittedly, you always loved it when he spoke with that tone. “Alright. I shall see you where?”

“My apartment is fine. I’ll arrive there in about 30 minutes, so just take your time.”

“See you then.” He paused at your silence of a few seconds. “What?”

“Bring food! Bye~!” You ended the call immediately. Giggling at the moment, you tossed your phone to the seat and began your drive back home.

- - - - -

Hello everyone! It's me!

I know I haven't updated the story in 3 months? And I apologize :( My family has well recovered from the COVID scare of last year. What took its place was my declining mental health due to my shitty work environment. I could barely write any of my fics and even when I did write a new one, I could only hold on to very little chapters before feeling down and useless T.T

As to the next upload, I am not sure when but I can promise you that the next chapter is currently being written as we speak :) I hope you guys liked the 2 new chapters! and if you enjoyed the whole story, feel free to buy me a ko-fi.. it'll greatly help me :')

See you all in the next update!

PS. I didn't mention the tag list cause maybe ya'll don't want to be tagged anymore hehehe if you do want to be tagged then please feel free to message me or comment :)

[theoppositequeens]

we wear red (so they don’t see us bleed)

For @kanejweek Day 6: Duplicity (fake relationships, fool's gold)

Read it on Ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32048467

Pairing: Kaz/Inej

Rating: M (some mentions of past rape/non-con)

Title from Valerie Broussard's "Trouble"

we wear red (so they don’t see us bleed)

They stroll into the concert house in Belendt like they own it.

Him, in a perfectly fitting dark tuxedo, looking young and handsome and clever, white gloves covering his hands. Her, in a stunning form-fitting red dress, the hem sweeping by her black heels as she balances on them perfectly, her posture to die for.

They produce tickets – stolen of course – and are waved through into the event of the season, her arm carefully tucked into his elbow for support as they ascend the stairs. His walking stick only completes the image, and she wraps her black sash tighter around her shoulders. The air is undeniably chilly with the first autumn winds, and he smiles crookedly down at her when she takes his arm again.

Such a beautiful couple, a lady murmurs to her companion. Look how considerate he is of her.

Yes, her friend in an ugly green dress agrees. I wonder if they are married, or only courting? He is easy on the eyes...

Her companion elbows her sharply, cutting off a dreamy sigh as their fat and wealthy husbands draw closer again.

I wonder who he is? a merchant asks his business partner quietly. He looks wealthy. New money?

The business partner inspects the young couple carefully. They do radiate wealth and money – the perfectly tailored clothes, the casually expensive ear-rings dangling from her earlobes, the way they walk. Confidently, like everyone here is beneath them.

As he watches, the young man leans closer, whispers in his lady's ear, and she nods her head lightly. The swing of her dress does not reveal the myriad of weapons concealed on her person. To any unsuspecting viewer, they do not seem to wear less articles of clothing than weapons on their person.

The young couple continues up to their box – an exclusive one – and a young lady sighs in envy as the man bows to the lady, gesturing for her to enter first, holding the door and then her hand to help her step delicately over the threshold.

Inej Ghafa smiles wickedly up at Kaz Brekker in the relative privacy of the box.

"Think they bought it, so far?"

"You should have a career in acting, Inej, treasure of my heart," Kaz answers drily, but Inej can see the approval in his eyes. Yes, the crowd bought it.

They settle into their seats, Kaz again holding out his hand and Inej hovering hers on top, not quite touching his white glove, to give the appearance of him helping her sit down. She knows he doesn't like to be touched, but a certain amount is needed for this cover. She saw the sweat beading on his neck when she had her arm in the crook of his elbow, and she knows this is not easy for him. Guilt floods her, as she recalls the lovely feeling of him so close, almost pressed into her side, warm body next to hers. How he felt safe, sturdy, his usual cologne a reassurance that this was Kaz, that she was hanging on his arm of her own free will.

She feels bad that it was certainly not a pleasant experience for him. She doesn't understand what his problem with touch is, but she has been with him long enough to know that he has one. Sometimes, she wishes to know if he lets her touch him more than others, if she is the only one who sees his bare hands – and chest – sometimes. If she is special.

Then she shakes the thought away, crushes those feelings for the unfeeling Bastard of the Barrel. Kaz will never want her, and Kaz will never be what she needs, no matter how her subconscious makes her dream of him at night.

Instead, she will enjoy the now, the touches and nearness brought on by this job.

"Part two," Kaz says, and they scoot closer as the lights dim, twisting near to each other and their faces are so close, Inej can feel his warm breath on her skin. She hopes hers doesn't smell. In the dim light, to any onlooker, they might be kissing. Instead, Kaz is barely even touching her over the dress on her hips, his eyes closed and his forehead tense. Inej wishes touching her wasn't so repulsive, such a chore for him. He might be the only man she would trust enough to actually allow him to.

Then the box goes relatively dark, the lights focusing on the orchestra, and they right themselves to listen to the music. It is a beautiful piece they start with, lilting and longing and soft, and Inej wishes she was here to enjoy the music with the man beside her. She isn't, this is a job, but she can pretend for a few minutes, Kaz's sharp features in profile from the corner of her eye.

During the intermission they play the charming couple again, mingling.

We're from Ketterdam, yes. We have an accent? Oh, how charming, did you hear that, darling? He thinks we have an accent.

– just came into some holdings near to Belendt, inherited, you see, but my main business is in Ketterdam. We might use the manor here as a vacation house, right, my treasure? Oh, I'm in jurda trade, very profitable nowadays...

Kaz's hand is resting very lightly on her back the whole time, and he throws around those charming fake smiles at both her and the people they talk to. Inej can see the toll it is taking on him though, and he slumps into his seat when they return to their box. She lets him breathe, gather himself, and when the orchestra has begun again, they slip out of their box like giggling teenagers planning to get away with something.

They are planning to get away with stealing, but the crowds don't need to know that. All they will remember is a charming young couple, clearly in love. Not potential suspects.

They continue up the stairs, to the closed museum on the top floor, circling the whole concert house. It houses a lot of antique music instruments, as well as some contemporary expensive ones that the music school in Belendt stores here. That is what they are after: an expensive violin that a client has requested. It's worth thousands of kruge, and as they stumble through a maintenance door – unlocked, as the janitors here tend to cut corners, like they suspected even if Kaz has his picks packed – Inej rights herself and begins stripping off her dress. Kaz averts his eyes respectfully, even though he knows she is wearing skintight black clothing underneath. Instead, he unbuttons his own tuxedo and shirt, unwrapping the thin coiled climbing rope from around his torso, handing it with its hooks to Inej. The guns strapped to his chest gleam in the low light.

She passes him the dress and he swings it over his shoulder, following her through the dark museum to the right display. The locks are within Kaz's skillset, but first he unlocks the window with quick movements. Their first plan was for Inej to simply climb up the outside, but the locks on the windows are too difficult for her to crack. Entering as a janitor or staff member is practically impossible, they all know each other and have been working here for years, and university is not yet in session for music students to come here to admire the instruments. Instead, Inej will now climb down to deliver their cargo to their carriage, and climb back up while Kaz stands guard.

Inej watches as those white-clad fingers twist the lock-picks into the display's huge lock, and it clicks within seconds.

"Looks like they are compensating for something," Kaz says triumphantly, holding up the big but utterly simple lock as he opens the display and picks out the right violin. It has it's protective case beside it, and Kaz gently moves the instrument into it. Inej hopes the purple velvet will protect their cargo on her way down, and quickly fashions a sling from her black evening sash. They strap the violin to her back and she secures her ropes, disappearing down the building and into the night.

The quick trip down proves easy, and she hides their treasure in the carriage. Climbing back up is more challenging, the facade is relatively smooth, and Inej scratches her calf on a drainpipe, right beside the sheath of her tightly strapped knife. She swears quietly, and hoists herself through the window as Kaz begins to loosen the rope. They throw it in a half-full waste bin, and Inej pulls her dress back on, wrapping her sash about her. Kaz has already buttoned back up, and they exit the same maintenance door.

There are footsteps coming up the stairs.

For a second, Kaz looks panicked – the guard is early on his circuit – but his face smooths into a scheming face relatively quickly. Inej doesn't care to wait, he will not come up with a better plan in time, and so she acts.

Inej knows this, knows how to pretend. How to quickly bite her lips to make them seem kiss-swollen, how to guide Kaz's hand up into her hopelessly wind-ruffled hair, to make this seem like something else. She tugs him closer, sharply, wraps a slender leg up on his hip, barely touching, and leans her head back onto the wall, releasing a breathy fake moan into the air. She knows this kind of pretending too well, and as Kaz apologizes profoundly to the guard - so distracted by my beautiful lady here, needed some privacy, you understand, nervous and embarrassed laugh – she feels herself retreating. Kaz's body is still close, but now it feels more like a threat than safety. A thousand fake moans ring through her head, the way they covered up her noises of pain. It was fake it or cry, and crying led to worse things. Inej has lost sense of the conversation and the world around her completely.

The guard leaves, and Kaz turns to her, sees the way her eyes are glassy, the way her body is tense and he doesn't touch. Instead, he calls her name lowly, a dozen times before it registers. The men never called her Inej. She was always lynx or whore or little Suli girl.

She blinks, regains control of her body and follows him down the stairs to their box. He doesn't ask her if she is alright, only keeps a respectful distance as they sit down and Inej fixes her hair.

They listen to the last of the performance in silence, as Inej desperately tries to calm her racing heart. She is safe. This is Kaz after all. He does not want her like that.

When it is time to leave, Kaz offers his arm warily. As Inej makes to grab it, resolutely, he says,

"Can you do this?"

There is no bite to his words, only a neutral question, and when Inej answers, "Yes," she is so thankful he doesn't question her. She does not truly know if she will make it out the door without a panic attack.

They exit the box, strut down the stairs arm in arm, and Inej is pleased the long dress covers the blood running down her shin. Kaz nods at a few of the wealthier merchants and helps Inej into her coat by the wardrobe. The tap of his cane on the marble floor leads the way out of the concert house.

The young beautiful couple is never seen in Belendt again.

[darks-ink]

Fangs - Ectoberweek 2019

Oh god oh man. 1 year fic writing anniversary, here we go! For Ectoberweek day 1, I picked the prompt Fangs.

Rating: K+ / Teen (some swearing) Warnings: Referenced character death; but it’s ok because it happened 15 years prior to canon (and the fic) and also they became a ghost and are totally fine with how things are now. Genre: Friendship Words: 3,585 Relationships: Danny Fenton & Tucker Foley & Sam Manson (platonic) Additional Tags: First meetings, Alternate Universe, Referenced character death, One shot, Fluff

[AO3] [FFN]

---

Danny impatiently tugged at the lock on the locker door, cursing under his breath. Why wouldn’t the damn thing just unlock? It had seemed to simple when they’d explained it to them!

He was just considering the viability of turning his arm intangible and bypassing the lock entirely when someone cleared their throat behind him.

Startled, Danny jerked back, twisting to look at the person behind him. He looked like an ordinary human being; dark skin, teal eyes, and colorful clothing.

“Uh, hey,” the boy said, a little awkwardly. “Why are you messing with my locker?”

Danny blinked at him for a long moment. Then, “Your locker?”

“Yeah?” The boy frowned at him, then gestured at the locker. “See, number 524? That’s mine.”

“524?” Danny repeated lamely. Then he reached for the locker next to the one he’d been trying to unlock, and twisted the lock in the combination he’d been given. It clicked open easily. “Uh. Oops?”

“Wrong locker?” the boy asked, mirth in his voice but clearly understanding. “It happens to the best of us, man.”

“Oh.” He shrugged, unsure. He wouldn’t know. “I guess. Sorry. I didn’t break it, did I?”

“Nah, you’re fine.” The boy unlocked his locker as well, looking away from Danny to take out some of the books in it. “You’re new, right? Do you know where you need to go?”

Danny opened his mouth to reply, but a voice from behind them spoke before he could. “Tuck, don’t. You can barely get yourself to class in time.”

The boy rolled his eyes, turning to look at the new speaker over his shoulder. “That’s not because I’m lost, Sam, but because people keep getting in the way. Not everyone is a walking wrecking ball.”

Sam snorted, and Danny closed his locker to look at her as well. Pale skin, black hair, and striking violet eyes. He had to admit that he liked her style, though. Looked like a girl that Ember might appreciate.

“Not my fault you can’t keep up, Tuck.”

Then she seemed to realize that he was there too, because she grinned at him. “Nice hair.”

“Uh.” He raised his hands to comb them through his hair, automatically. “Thanks?”

“How’d you get the streaks like that?” she continued, sounding genuinely interested. “It looks really cool, that white in the black.”

“It’s kinda…” He continued to twist his fingers in his hair, shooting her an uncertain grin, “It’s kind of always been like that?”

She gasped, then suddenly stepped forward and grabbed his face. “Man, and your parents let you wear these fangs to school? They must be really cool.”

“The coolest,” he agreed easily, running his tongue over his pointed canine teeth. “But, um, that’s not really-- relevant.”

“Oh, I see.” She let go of him again, nodding to herself. “You’re wearing them without their permission!”

“What? No!” He dropped his grin to frown at her instead. “People do that?”

Tuck snorted, but dropped his smile when Sam glared at him. Then she turned back to Danny, huffed, and crossed her arms. “I would if I could get some. My parents suck. Grandma is pretty cool, though.”

“Oh.” He scratched his cheek, uncertainly. “I’ve never met my grandparents, to be honest. Jazz said they were pretty nice, but she was like… three years old when she last saw them, so I’m not sure if I trust her on that.”

The two other teens shared a glance at that, before Tuck asked, hesitantly, “Jazz? Like, Jazz Fenton?”

“Yeah? Not a lot of kids going by Jazz, right?” Or, well, that’s what she’d given as her reason for changing her name. Danny was extraordinary but with a normal name, so Jazz wanted to be the reverse of that.

“Why would Jazz Fenton know your grandparents?” Tuck’s eyes were narrowed, like he already suspected the answer, but didn’t like it. “Let alone when she was so young.”

“We’re… siblings?” Danny shrugged loosely, uncertain why this was throwing the other two off so badly. “She’s my sister.”

“But-- But--” Tuck turned and looked at Sam again, like they were having a silent conversation.

“But what?” Danny asked when it looked like they had finished. “Do we really look that different? Mom and Dad always said we had clear family resemblance, but--”

“No, no, that’s not it,” Sam interrupted. “It’s just…” She shot a glance at Tuck again, but turned back before it could devolve into another silent conversation. “We just… didn’t know Jazz had a brother.”

“Oh. I mean… I guess.” He shrugged again. “My parents didn’t want me out much, and I guess Jazz wouldn’t have talked about it with people she’s not friends with.”

Tuck opened his mouth to reply, but the sound was drowned out by a loud ringing. Danny flinched, raising his hands to his ears, but the noise stopped before he could finish the motion.

“And there’s the bell.” Sam shook her head, then shouldered her backpack. “Tucker and I have to get to English. Go find Jazz if you can’t find your class, yeah?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” He watched them turn around, then realized what she’d said. “Hey, wait!” He ran after them, quickly catching up. “English? Like, Mr. Lancer’s English?”

“Yeah? You too, then?” Tuck asked, turning to look at him without slowing down. “Guess you’re in the same class as us. Convenient.”

“Uh huh. Mind if I tag along?” He shouldered his backpack properly, pulling his arms through the purple straps. “Since you’re going there anyway?”

Tuck snorted, then offered his hand. “Sure man. By the way, I’m Tucker. Tucker Foley.”

Danny took his hand, giving it a good shake. “Danny Fenton. Nice to meet you.”

Sam seized his hand the moment he let go of Tucker, shaking it as well. “And I’m Sam Manson. Now, since the bell cut us off earlier, what’s up with you not being allowed out?”

“Sam,” Tucker chastised, “There must’ve been a good reason, man.” Then he nudged Danny, lightly. “Don’t mind her. You don’t have to tell if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t mind.” He raised one hand to the back of his neck, rubbing it uncertainly. “Just, uh, kind of a long story. Might be better to save it until lunch or something.”

“Oh, that’s a deal.” Sam suddenly slung one arm over his shoulder, grinning impishly. “I’ll hold you to that, Danny.”

He smiled back at her, stamping down the dread that suddenly rose in his stomach.

Why did he feel like he just made a deal with the devil?

---

“Alright, now tell us,” Sam demanded as she tugged him down into a seat. “Why did no one know Jazz had a brother?”

He rolled his eyes, putting down his tray of food. “Can’t I eat first? I’m starving.”

“You don’t want to eat that anyway, man.” Tucker sat down next to Sam, looking at his tray of cafeteria food. “The stuff they serve here is barely edible. Best to bring stuff from home if you can.”

“I did bring food from home.” He reached for his backpack, pulling out the lunch his mom had packed for him. “But I’m gonna eat the cafeteria food too.”

“Boys,” Sam sighed, shaking her head. “You can’t seriously plan on eating so much?”

“Why not?” He peeked into the bag—ooh, weenies—then put it on his tray. Best to start with the regular food. If it really was that bad, he could get rid of the taste with the other food. “It’s not that much, is it?”

Tucker made a face. “It is a lot, dude.”

“Oh,” he said, picking up an apple from the tray. It was a normal amount for him to eat, but he supposed it might not be the same case for full humans. Still, couldn’t anybody have bothered to tell him about that? “I didn’t realize.”

“Man, and I thought I lived a sheltered life.” Sam chuckled, but her smile dropped when he raised his apple to take a bite out of it. “Hey, wait, don’t--”

He bit down into the apple, his sharp teeth sinking into it with a loud crunch. “Hm?”

“You’re not… supposed to eat… with those in,” she said, slowly, watching him chew. “That’s, uh, bad for your teeth.”

Danny swallowed the bite of apple, frowning at her. “With what in?”

“The fangs?” She gestured at the apple, deep gouges in it where his fangs had dug in. “Look at how deep those went! You could’ve done real damage to your teeth if that apple had been any harder!”

He glanced at the apple, then back at her. She seemed genuinely upset, but he wasn’t what to do about it. “Oh. Uh. It’s not really… like that.”

“Not like what?” she snapped back. “Do you think you’re immune to tooth damage just because your hair is super cool?”

“Uh.” He blinked at her, caught off-guard by the non-sequitur. “No? But--”

“No buts! And don’t take another bite!” she added sharply when he raised the apple again. “We weren’t done talking about this, Danny!”

He shrugged, maintained eye contact, then took another bite.

“I really wish you hadn’t done that,” Tucker muttered, moving further down the bench to distance himself from Sam.

“I don’t get it,” Danny admitted after he’d swallowed the bite. “It’s just an apple.”

“The problem,” Sam bit at him, “is that you’re not supposed to eat hard food while wearing fake fangs!”

“Oh.” He nodded. “Is that what the problem was?”

She opened her mouth to snap at him, but he cut her off with a soft smile and said, “They’re not fake, so.”

As Sam spluttered, Tucker leaned back over, one eyebrow raised. “What do you mean, they’re not fake?”

“I mean that they’re real?” Danny frowned, eyes darting between the two of them. “Doesn’t everybody lose their milk teeth?”

“Yeah,” Tucker said slowly, “but we don’t grow fangs, dude.”

“Oh, I see.” He took another bite of his apple, then around it, said, “I guess it must be a ghost thing.”

They both blanched, and he realized that he had, once again, misstepped in this conversation.

“A-- A ghost thing?” Tucker asked finally, incredulously. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Uh.” Danny blinked at them, confused. “It means that I’m part ghost? Duh.”

“Don’t ‘duh’ us!” Sam glared at him. “What do you mean, you’re part ghost?!”

“Well…” He shifted to lean on the table, semi-casual. “It’s kind of in the name, you know? Half-ghost? Pretty obvious.”

“You can’t be half ghost!” she insisted, arms thrown out. “You can’t be part dead!”

“Well, someone should’ve told me that before I went and managed it, huh?” He shrugged, then took another bite of his apple. The ghosts were all way easier about this.

Though, thinking back, that might also be because they were really big on gossiping. You just had to tell one ghost, and then suddenly everyone knew it.

“Man, you’re crazy,” Tucker said morosely, shaking his head. “Spent too long at home with your dad. Shame Jazz didn’t get him to let you go to school earlier, so you would’ve realized that all his ghost stuff isn’t real.”

Danny blinked at him, blankly. “But… ghosts are real?”

Sam shoved Tucker, shooting him a brief glare, before she turned to Danny. “Yeah, don’t listen to him. He doesn’t believe in anything but cold hard technology.”

“And science,” Tucker corrected her. “I believe in things science has proven! And ghosts aren’t included in that.”

“But… they are?” Danny frowned, confused. “My parents have tons of research about it? I can ask Mom to get you one of the basic ones?”

Both Sam and Tucker blanched. Again.

“T-There’s no need,” Tucker stuttered, holding up his hands. “I mean, it’s been forever since she died, right? Those papers must be outdated by now.”

“Well, they’re working on a new one now.” He scratched the back of his head, then shrugged. Whatever. No big deal. “But if you don’t want it, that’s fine. Just don’t tell me science hasn’t proven the existence of ghosts, because that’s a blatant lie.”

“’They’?” Sam repeated apprehensively. “Like, both of them, right now?”

“Uh, yeah? That’s kind of what ‘they’ means.” He raised a questioning eyebrow in her direction.

“Well, I guess you’re right.” She shrugged, eyes lowering to her food for a moment before they snapped back to Danny. “Just… Like a ghost, right? You mean that she’s a ghost?”

“Kind of hard to do things when you’re just regular dead,” Danny said, dryly. “That’s sort of why a lot of people become ghosts, after all. Want to continue to do things after you die? Become a ghost.”

“So then how did you become half a ghost?” Tucker asked sharply. “Did you half die or something, huh?”

Danny rolled his eyes, swallowing the last bite of his apple. “Nah man, I was born like this. My Mom died like, a year before I was born.”

“Ghosts can reproduce?” Sam said, incredulously. “Your parents had you after your mom died?”

“Uh huh.” He glanced over the rest of his lunch, shrugged to himself, and then reached for his bag from home. “That’s why they kept me at home for so long. They wanted to make sure I would be okay, being half-ghost and all that.”

“Man, that’s crazy.” Tucker shook his head, but didn’t try to refute Danny anymore. “I can’t imagine-- Wait, what’s that?!”

“Hm?” Danny looked up from his sandwich, which Tucker was pointing at. He raised it. “This?”

“Yeah!” Tucker swept his hand around, vaguely gesturing at it. “Look at it, it’s glowing!”

“Uh. Yes?” Danny lowered it, opening the bread to show the contents. “See, that’s the frankenweinies. They’re ecto-contaminated hot dogs.”

Sam made a face. “No offense to your parents, Danny, but that looks even less edible than the cafeteria food.”

“Yeah, I agree with her.” Tucker leaned forward, but when Danny moved the sandwich closer to him he flinched away again. “And I say that as the crazy carnivore.”

“It’s not for human consumption.” Danny rolled his eyes, then demonstratively took a bite from the sandwich. Immediately he could feel the ectoplasm feeding into his system, his core humming in contentment. “The ectoplasm is good for my ghost side.”

“See, dude, here’s a crazy idea for you to consider.” Tucker waved a hand as if presenting the concept. “What if the ectoplasm is making you think you’re half-ghost? Or, like, the contamination is making you all weird.”

Danny shot him a disgruntled look. Was Tucker really still going on about this? “I mean, technically, I’ve been ecto-contaminated since conception. My body is constructed to be a hybrid between ghost and human. My human side can’t survive without the support of my ghost side.”

Tucker continued to look unconvinced, eyes narrowed.

“How about this?” Danny swallowed away another bite of his sandwich. “Why don’t you come visit my house after school? You can meet my mom and some of the other ghosts, and my parents can tell you all about my weird half-ghost anatomy. And if none of that is convincing because you don’t think it’s real, well. My dad would love to show you some of his crazy inventions.”

The other boy narrowed his eyes even further. “Look dude, no offense, but I’m not really interested in ‘ghost fighting’ gadgets.”

“That’s fair.” Danny shrugged casually, taking another bite of food and waiting until he’d swallowed it to continue. “But they don’t just make weapons, you know. They have this crazy portal to the Ghost Zone—the dimension where ghosts like, for lack of a better word—and a super crazy hovercraft so Dad and Jazz can go there too. And they’re working on jetpacks for easier travel, too.”

“Oh.” Tucker wilted a little, turning a little fidgety. “Well, I… Sam, I bet you want to go see real-life ghosts, huh?”

She snorted. “Just admit you want to see what kind of crazy inventions the Fentons put together, Tuck. Don’t drag me into this.”

“You’re welcome to come too, Sam,” Danny offered, smiling at her. “I think that Tucker is too scared to go alone.”

“Hey!” The boy in question huffed angrily. “Don’t you dare! You’re the one inviting me to a literal haunted house, man. Haven’t you ever seen a horror movie! The handsome ones always die first!”

“You mean the non-white people.” Danny rolled his eyes, but didn’t drop the smile. “Besides, you’re too late to be the first to die anyway. My mom died years ago, and technically I’ve been sort-of dead since birth, remember?”

“’Sort of’ dead isn’t actually dead, dude.” But Tucker grinned back, the grim mood broken. “And your mom is the one haunting the house in the first place. That makes her death part of the backstory, not the first death to happen in the movie.”

“Eh, fair enough.” Danny finished off his sandwich, then stared at the cafeteria food still left on his tray, contemplating it. “But you’re bringing Sam, and she actually knows stuff about ghosts, so that makes her a viable first victim too. She’ll die just before she can tell you how to stop the enemy.”

“But that’s rarely the first death.” Tucker tugged the tray away from Danny. “Dude, you might be mostly dead, but you really don’t want to try that. Besides, lunch is almost over anyway.”

Danny stuck out his tongue, but nodded his approval anyway. He supposed Tucker was right. Not enough time to eat it, anyway. “I suppose I’ll ask Mom to pack me more lunch tomorrow. But, seriously, you two wanna come along to my house after school?”

“Will your parents be okay with that?” Sam asked, fingers rattling on the table. “Since you weren’t allowed to leave it for so long?”

“I mean, Jazz got them to finally send me to school with the intention that I actually interact with living people my age.” He shrugged, trying to cover his anxiety over admitting that he was supposed to be here to make friends. “That would involve out-of-school activities, right? And I bet having me safe at home would be preferable over me being out somewhere in the town.”

“What, ghost friends not enough for you?” Tucker grinned, then waggled his eyebrows. “Any hot chicks?”

Danny snorted. “You’re not even convinced ghosts exist. You really trying to date them, now?”

“Eh, can’t hurt to try, right?” Tucker flapped a hand. “And if you could be born half ghost, who says full ghosts can’t be born either? It’s not weird if they were never alive, right?”

“Debatable,” Sam said, dryly. “But I’d love to see you try to woo a ghost several centuries old.”

“That reminds me!” Danny leaned forward, poking Sam in the arm. “I gotta introduce you to Ember! I bet you two would get along great.”

“Yeah?” Sam quirked an eyebrow at him. “Why, because we’re both girls?”

“No?” He leaned back again, confused. “No, why would that matter? I thought you two might get along well because you have similar styles, and that ‘rebel’ kinda air.”

“Oh.” Sam blew out a breath, then grinned apologetically. “Yeah, y’know what, why not? Sorry for assuming. People tend to be assholes about that sorta thing.”

“Really? Unfortunate.” He paused as the bell rung, then pushed himself to his feet to go back to class. “I think Kitty would like you too. She’s closer to Jazz’ age, but Jazz is a little too ‘straight-lace’ for her and Johnny.”

“You got any cool friendship recommendations for me too?” Tucker asked skeptically as he grabbed his tray. “Or is this a ‘cool goth girl’ only thing?”

“I mean…” Danny hummed like he was thinking about it. “Sidney is a nerd too. Johnny, Kitty, and Ember are too cool for you… Dora, maybe, but she’s not too big on technology…”

Tucker’s mouth tightened. Danny laughed, then waved a dismissive hand. “Kidding, dude. Sidney is pretty nice, really, and Johnny and Kitty would love to meet you too, I bet. And Technus, maybe, but he’s older and also, like, old. But he’s really into tech.”

“Hmm, I guess.” Tucker shrugged as they entered the school. “Not a lot of nerds tend to stick around as ghosts, huh?”

“I think rebels just tend to die quicker than nerds, to be honest.” Danny laughed, following the other two to their next class. “It’s usually a more dangerous lifestyle, you know?”

Tucker cracked a grin too. “Fair enough, fair enough.”

They fell into silence as they made their way to the classroom. Tucker and Sam dragged him along to the back of the room, where he was tugged into a seat between the two of them.

Then Tucker leaned over, a worried crease to his brow, and whispered, “Are you sure you should’ve told us all that stuff, though? Wasn’t it a secret, or something?”

“Eh.” Danny shrugged. “If it was, they probably hadn’t counted on it lasting once I got to school. If they’re not keeping me a secret, then my circumstances would leak out sooner or later, right?”

He grinned at the two of them. “Besides, how am I supposed to make friends while keeping secrets like that? Not much of a friendship, is it?”

Tucker laughed, and Sam smiled back at him. “You know what, Danny? I think that this might’ve been the start of a beautiful friendship.”

“That sounds… That sounds wonderful, Sam.” He smiled wider, softer. “That sounds really great.”

[alj4890]

Crack Fic Request

(Psych! X Choices: The Royal Romance) as requested by @krsnlove 😂

A/N WARNING This is pure crack. I am combing two of my all time favorites: Psych and The Royal Romance cast of characters. If you haven't ever watched Psych about a fake psychic detective, please...do so. You have no idea the laughter that is missing from your life. If you are a fan of delicious flavor, then read on.

I have no idea who to tag other than my other fellow Psych lover, @hopelessromantic1352

Masterlist

History? What About Her Story?

"My love, have you seen the book you gave me on our wedding day?" Liam walked along the shelves of the palace library, searching each brown leather spine.

"No. I don't believe I have seen it since the reception." Riley set her book down and began to help him search. "Did you allow someone to borrow it?"

"No." He frowned and called for Bastien. A search was conducted with no results.

"It has to be somewhere in here." She muttered.

Maxwell and Drake joined them, bringing Hana and Olivia. After much discussion, Maxwell offered to call in a favor.

"I know a guy who is able to solve these type of mysteries." He pulled his phone out and scrolled through his contacts.

____________________

Santa Barbara, California

"Chief, the psychic realm is buzzing with gossip and a little ethereal bird told me to stop by." Shawn announced, bursting in on a meeting between Chief Vick, Head Detective Carlton Lassiter, and Detective Juliet O'Hara.

"Mr. Spencer, I don't know what birds are whispering in your ear but they need to remind you not to interrupt a meeting." She said in a frustrated tone.

"Sorry Chief, but when they tweet, I must answer. Usually with hashtags. Right, Gus?" Shawn turned to his best friend and partner.

"It's true Chief. He uses an unusual amount of hashtags." Gus added.

"Dude! You know my Twitter followers need to be in the know. I can't just offer a thought without a dozen or so carefully phrased hashtags to explain it's significance." Shawn reached over for Juliet's doughnut and was immediately batted away.

"Jules! Sharing is caring." He reminded her.

"If there are doughnuts, we need to be made aware of their location." Gus searched the room and looked out toward the main room of the police station.

"Enough!" Carlton yelled. "Spencer, you and Gusster go find a doughnut and leave."

"Come on, Lassie. Don't you want to break bread with us. Or a doughnut as the case might be while we discuss the next step in our investigation?" Shawn tried to secretly slide Juliette's doughnut his way, earning another slap.

"I would rather go to a hot yoga class with McNabb." Carlton uttered in a deadpan voice.

"Well, I for one am ready to find this Corduroy antique." Shawn said sitting down and propping his feet up on the table.

"Cordonian." Gus corrected.

"I've heard it both ways." Shawn quickly repsonded.

"Shawn you didn't even know it was a country." Gus added.

"Gus, I can't help that the psychic tweets didn't give a geography lesson with the message. There's only a limited number of characters allowed." Shawn argued.

"Gentlemen!" Chief Vick interrupted. She stared pointedly at Shawn until he took his feet off the conference table. "Due to the international attention you and Lassister and O'Hara have gained with past investigations, the King and Queen of Cordonia have asked the four of you to come help find out what happened to one of the king’s prized possessions. The mayor insists you go to show how Santa Barbara is keeping up international relations."

"The tweets never lie." Shawn said, a smile lighting up his face. "What type of clothing should we pack?"

"It's in the Mediterranean." Juliet told him.

"So, snowsuit?" Shawn asked.

"Be ready to leave first thing tomorrow morning. King Liam is sending his private plane for you." Vick flicked her hands for them to leave.

__________________

"Gus, I was meant for this lifestyle. Private planes. Servants. Ruling over a small country. Adored by my people." Shawn reclined in the Corinthian leather chair as the plane flew over the Atlantic.

"Dude, your people would overthrow you within a week." Gus muttered.

"And what a glorious week it would be." Shawn replied.

Gus glanced behind him to where Juliet and Carlton were sleeping. "What did Maxwell tell you?"

"Some brown book filled with the country’s history is missing. The queen presented it as a wedding gift. Who gives their spouse an ancient book as a gift on their wedding night? Do you think there was underwear in it? I bet--"

"Shawn." Gus attempted to reign Shawn's ramblings in.

"Anyway, they can't find it. So it is up to us to find out who took it, why they did, and where it is now."

"Great. Did Maxwell offer any leads?"

Shawn frowned. "No...but how many people actually were in a small palace of a tiny country?"

_________________

Liam and Riley walked with Maxwell down the corridor. "A psychic?" Liam asked again. "I can't believe we invited a psychic detective to assist in this."

Maxwell nodded. "Shawn isn't some run of the mill psychic. He has solved numerous thefts, murders, even stopped a notorious serial killer. I think he will have this book back in your hands by this evening."

They walked into the study and warmly greeted their guests.

"Maxwell!" Shawn walked up and fist bumped him. "How long has it been?"

"Um...I want to say a two months since I was in Canada. The whole book tour being interrupted by Pierre Despereaux's thefts was when we last met." Maxwell explained.

"Thefts?" Riley asked.

"An international art thief, your majesty." Juliet explained, dropping into an awkward curtsy.

"Please, there is no need for any of that." Riley said with a smile. "I'm still not used to it. Every time someone needs a refill on drinks, I hop up to get it."

Juliet laughed and clapped her hands. "Your story is the stuff of dreams. I love how you and King Liam met."

"O'Hara." Carlton muttered.

"Right. Sorry." Juliet straightened up beside him.

"Can you tell us if you have any new staff, possibly seen anyone suspicious around the book?" Carlton asked.

"No, most have been here for years. The ones visiting the palace are nobles and friends that have never caused a problem of this sort." Liam explained.

"Of this sort?" Gus repeated. "So there have been problems?"

Liam shared a loaded glance with Riley. "I recently created a council of both nobles and commoners to help my queen and I rule to the best of our abilities. After the terrorist attacks from the Sons of the Earth, I wanted to try and not allow a situation like that to develop again."

Shawn raised his hand to his head. "I'm sensing that there were a few who did not agree with this."

Riley nodded, eyes wide. "There were some, one in particular, Lord Neville."

"The singer of Tell It Like It Is?" Shawn asked.

"That's Aaron Neville." Gus corrected.

"Right, the quarterback for Green Bay." Shawn asked.

"That's Aaron Rogers!" Gus exclaimed

"Right. Love his neighborhood." Shawn put his hand back to his head. "I'm sensing that Lord Rogers--"

"Neville." Gus whispered.

"That Lord Neville might wish to get back at you. Mayhap even--" he turned to Gus. "Did I use mayhap right?"

"Yes." Gus answered

"Too pretentious?" Shawn furrowed his brow.

"A little bit." Gus shrugged.

"It's this setting. I mean look at this place. Velvet sitting chairs. Who has this? Really, even velvet drapes? Does Elton John visit?" Shawn walked over and lifted the red drape.

"He has..." Liam replied, trying to keep up with Shawn's thought process.

"Is he planning on visiting soon?"

"I--" Liam shrugged. "I don't think so."

"Hmm. To solve this mystery, I am going to need to become one with this palace. I am going to need to eat what you eat. Sit where you sit. Touch what you touch." Shawn winked at Riley, earning a smack to the back of the head from Carlton.

He glared at Shawn before turning to Liam. "Rest assured that O'Hara and I will do all we can to solve this for you."

"If you wouldn't mind, we need to speak to your head of security." Juliet added.

"Of course, right this way." Liam and Riley walked out with the two detectives.

Maxwell grinned. "Alright guys, show me that magic you did in Canada."

"Oh you will see the magic." Shawn promised.

"We got magic for days." Gus added.

"At least for a couple of hours." Shawn corrected. "Maybe an encore card trick or two."

Maxwell chuckled and finger gunned them on his way out. "Great. Let me know if you need anything."

"Magic for days? Really Gus?" Shawn shook his head and left the study.

"What? The man asked for it. What was I supposed to say? Shawn!" Gus ran after him.

__________________

"We start with the list Maxwell gave us of those that are normally in the palace." Shawn explained. "From there, we can easily say Neville did it and we receive some kind of royal award, like a spare chest of jewels or a quick swim in the gold vault."

"Liam is not Scrooge McDuck." Gus reminded him.

"Are you saying he doesn't have a gigantic money vault that he secretly swims in while wearing a bathing suit from the turn of the century?"

"Yes. That's what I'm saying."

"Well, that's disappointing." Shawn muttered.

The pair stopped by an office and knocked. When they opened the door they saw a petite, strikingly beautiful blonde filing some papers. "Who are you?" She asked, eyes narrowing.

"My name is Shawn Spencer and this is my partner, Sir Spinsalot. We have been asked to assist in locating the King's missing book."

Madeleine sat down behind her desk. "And?"

"We were wondering who you suspected." Gus leaned closer. "A lady of your talents of changing the minds of the people should have a few suspects in mind."

A proud smile formed. "When King Liam chose an American waitress as his Queen, there were some that were less enthused with his choice."

Shawn zeroed in on her fingers tensing, the old issues of magazines behind her desk, and the faint tan line on her ring finger. There was also a flyer partially hidden with the word rebound on it. A sticky note had a m and a f with groups of numbers listed. 1728 and 1817 were written down. "I'm sensing that these nobles preferred someone else. They wanted you to be queen."

She momentarily stilled. "Yes they did. After my upbringing as the Countess of Fydella, I was the natural choice as queen."

"I bet they were disappointed when Liam ended your engagement." Gus added.

A hard glint came into her eyes. "I suppose so. Who wouldn't wish for one trained since birth how to run a country and interact with nobles and dignitaries around the world without an entourage to constantly tell her what to do?"

"Good to see you're not bitter." Shawn stood up. "Thank you for your time."

"Do you think she did it?" Gus whispered as they walked down the hall.

"Nah. She has moved on with this new position. Plus it looks like she is getting some type of rebound counseling after being dumped. She's the kind that has to be needed." He explained.

"I think I could need her." Gus grinned, brushing his thumb across his nose.

"I say this with all the love in my heart. Something is wrong with you." Shawn stepped outside.

__________________

"He did it." Shawn nodded toward a man dressed in a demin shirt talking to Juliet.

"What? That's the King's best friend!" Gus exclaimed.

"Doesn't matter. He did it." Shawn persisted. "Only a thief would flirt to distract the investigation."

"He's not flirting. Juliet is." Gus pointed out.

"Man." Shawn shook his head and walked over.

Juliet was smiling. "....I named him Sprinkles because of his dappled coat."

Drake's smirk appeared and he looked up as Shawn and Gus approached. Juliet turned and introduced them.

"Drake, this is Shawn Spencer and Burton Gusster."

He nodded to them. "How's the investigation going? Any leads?"

"It's going." Shawn answered. "I'm not at liberty to reveal any parts."

Drake cocked an eyebrow. "You're not at liberty?"

"That's right, Jack! The psychic's relationship with the visions he is given is precious. Has to be nurtured. It's a circle of trust and it gets upset when I share its secrets with suspiciously handsome dudes that flex their muscles in a barn. Or stable. Is this a stable?" Shawn pulled the door open.

"It's a stable." Gus decided.

Juliet looked up in silent frustration. "Thank you Drake for your time. Guys, I will see you back at the palace." She walked away.

Shawn noticed Drake checking Juliet out and spoke harshly.

"So what do you do here?"

"Er...I do...things." Drake muttered.

"What type of things?" Gus asked.

"I...you couldn't really put a name on it. I do a variety of...stuff." Drake stuttered.

"Is theft of antique cornucopia history--" Shawn began.

"Cordonian." Gus corrected.

"Cordonian history rank as one of your things?" Shawn asked.

Drakes eyes narrowed. "What? Are you actually accusing me of stealing from my best friend?"

"No!" Gus said while Shawn said, "YES!" At the same time.

Drake glared at them and stormed off.

"What's his problem?" Shawn asked.

"Shawn, you just accused the man of stealing. What did you expect?"

"I don't know. Maybe point me toward the most likely suspect. Didn't he seem a little more secretive than one would normally be?" Shawn asked.

"Maybe. Why?" Gus watched Drake walk into a hidden side door.

"I think he's hiding something." Shawn motioned his head in the direction Drake disappeared. "We need to keep an eye on him."

___________________

"There has to be food somewhere in this joint." Shawn muttered.

Gus threw his arm out, stopping Shawn. He took a sniff and turned down a hallway.

"Super sniffer activated. What!" Shawn exclaimed following his friend.

"Do you smell that?" Gus asked, stopping again.

Shawn took a deep breath and let out an exaggerated moan. "It smells like heaven's bakery: one filled with cinnamon, sugar, chocolate, and our third grade teacher Ms. Ferguson wearing that sundress on field day."

Gus closed his eyes in memory. "You know that's right. Every teacher should look like her."

They stepped into the kitchen and watched a lady in a pink dress remove a tray of snickerdoodles from the oven. She brushed her long dark hair back and began to place the cookies on a cooling rack.

"I'm in love." Gus whispered.

Shawn nodded at the vision before them. He walked up to her with a look of wonder on his face. "Excuse me, but are you an angel?"

Hana looked up and giggled sweetly. "I know you! You're the private detectives Maxwell called in." She wiped her hands before holding one out. "I'm Lady Hana Lee."

"My name is Shawn Spencer and the suave gentleman stealing cookies is my partner, The Duke of Earl."

Gus quickly swallowed and gave a slow wave. "Hello."

Hana's grow furrowed. "The Duke of what?"

"Earl. But you can call me Slade." Gus replied with a seductive look.

Hana nodded and motioned toward the counter covered in sweet treats. "Please, help yourself. I tend to overdo it when I bake."

"That is impossible." Gus muttered. He took a bite of a still warm brownie and rolled his eyes in pleasure. "I'm proposing to her tonight." He whispered to Shawn.

"Tonight? I'm proposing marriage this afternoon. She can't be real." Shawn filled a plate with a variety of sweets and sat down. With a mouthful of food and a few moans of pleasure he began to question her. "Lady Hana, have you noticed anyone acting suspicious lately?"

She poured them each a glass of milk and chewed on her bottom lip. "No."

Gus slapped Shawn's hand away from his plate. "Stop playing Shawn!"

"Come on son. You grabbed the last of the macarons! The least you can do is offer one or two."

"Not my fault you took your time with the magic bars." Gus countered.

"They literally have magic in the name. They taste like what I imagine Siegfried and Roy playing with baby tigers feels like." Shawn reached over again and shook his head when slapped. "I can't believe how greedy you're being."

"I don't care." Gus replied in a high pitched voice.

Hana laughed and went over to one of the containers filled with more macarons. She offered it to Shawn and blushed when he exclaimed over her. "I don't care what you say, I can see your wings and halo."

"This is what nice people do Gus, they give." Shawn held up the cookies Hana handed him.

"Suck it Shawn."

"You suck it."

They began to talk quickly over each other and suddenly stopped. Shawn took a drink of milk and focused on Hana. "I'm sensing that you have seen someone you are close to acting odd recently."

Her lips parted in surprise. "Yes, I have. But he couldn't have taken the book! He is much too loyal to ever do something against Liam."

Shawn placed his hand to his head, closed his eyes and slapped Gus for trying to take another brownie. "I'm sensing that the one you are worried about is Drake."

Hana gasped. "Yes! Maxwell told me you were the real thing, but I couldn't believe it."

"I am merely the vessel," he slapped the back of Gus's head for trying again, "that the visions use. Now, would it be too much trouble to find something we can use to carry all of this with us?"

______________

“I don’t like this.” Gus whispered as he crept behind Shawn through the dark palace halls.

“Drake wasn’t in his room. It’s two in the morning. Where is he?” Shawn responded. “I’m telling you, he is up to no good.”

“You’re just jealous that Juliet was flirting with him instead of you.” Gus muttered.

“Please. Me? Jealous? Just because Jules basically giggled like an eighth grade girl over that ridiculously good looking man means--” He held his hand up and stopped Gus. He pointed down another hallway where he could see Drake standing in front of a door.

“What’s he doing?” Gus asked.

Shawn moved in an exaggerated manner to hide behind a suit of armor. He motioned for Gus to follow. He shook his head no. Shawn began to motion faster while Gus silently argued back. They did rock, paper, scissors three times with Gus losing. He snuck over.

Drake looked behind him before knocking in a strange pattern. After a few moments he tried the pattern again, his brow furrowing with the continued silence that followed.

Shawn went to move to another suit of armor, only to end up frozen with a sword to his throat.

“One more move and you and your little friend will be a shish kabob.” 

A sultry red head moved out of the shadows and narrowed her green eyes at the pair. “What are you doing here?”

Drake turned around and glared. “It’s those psychic detectives Maxwell called in.”

Olivia kept her sword against Shawn’s throat.

“You would need at least three more.” Shawn suddenly said.

“What are you blabbering about?” Olivia demanded.

“For kabobs.” Shawn continued. “Everyone knows that you can’t just have two things. You need something to make the kebobs pop, like onions, tomatoes, something green. Most add some zucchini yet I think bell peppers add more zing--”

“SILENCE!” Olivia said over his ramblings. “Why are you following Drake?”

“Could you lower the sword?” Gus asked.

She dropped it down. “Now talk before I change my mind.”

“We are searching for the cornstarch--”

“Cordonian!” Gus corrected yet again.

“Cordonian history book.” Shawn finished.

“They think I took it.” Drake folded his muscular arms across his chest.

“Why would Drake steal the book? It is only about nobles and ancient scandals. I think one of the last entries was from 1817.” Olivia noted. 

Shawn thought back as his brain flashed to that post it note with that particular year listed. He raised his hand to his temple. “I KNOW WHO STOLE THE BOOK!”

________________

Everyone gathered half asleep in Liam’s study. Shawn stood in the middle of the room. “I’m sure you all wonder why I asked you here.”

“Cut the crap Spencer.” Carlton replied. “We know you have some half cocked theory that will somehow be correct.”

Gus shrugged when Shawn turned to him.

“Really you too?” Shawn asked. 

“It’s late Shawn.” Gus countered. “We flew across the country and the Atlantic ocean to get here. I haven’t slept in thirty-six hours. You know how I get without sleep.”

“Gus, don’t be that can of Coke Zero. Bring back the sweetness.” Shawn pleaded.

He turned back to the group. “This missing piece of history isn’t filled with only boring facts. No! I sense that it is filled with the dirty secrets about what goes on in the unknown, deep, dark recesses of this palace.”

“It’s actually pretty bright everywhere.” Maxwell spoke up with a yawn.

Shawn ignored that. “Even though the scandals go back thousands--”

“Hundreds.” Gus whispered.

“Hundreds of years.” Shawn repeated. “They are still ones that some will want to remain in secret.”

“Who wouldn’t want that?” Drake muttered.

“Someone wanted to erase these recorded memories. Someone who has already gone through humiliation. Someone who doesn’t want their name added to their ancestors’ naughty times. Isn’t that right...LADY MADELEINE!”

Madeleine paused yawning. Her eyes widened for a moment. “I beg your pardon!”

“I can see it all now.” Shawn stood over her. “You were already sick of seeing your name in the magazines as the jilted fiancée of the King. When Riley asked you to be her publicist, it was a slap in the face for a Countess and former Queen in training. But you took it, because your family name was on the line. You had to correct your image somehow. What better way than to appear not only fine being pushed aside, but also being magnanimous to the foreign interloper.” 

Madeleine stared silently at him as he continued.

“It was going well until Riley decided to present Liam with a rare and very odd wedding gift. Seriously. Naught underwear is what all men want for gifts.” Shawn turned to Riley and Liam. “Back me up on this guys.”

“It’s true.” Drake muttered.

“Drake!” Riley exclaimed.

“No, he’s right, blossom. It is all we want.” Maxwell added.

Riley blushed and turned to Liam. “Were you disappointed?”

Liam shook his head. “Of course not. I love everything you have given me.” He frowned at Shawn, Drake, and Maxwell. “Proceed Mr. Spencer.”

“If only Riley had not found it.” Shawn continued. “You didn’t realize what it had until you flipped through it. Then you saw what your ancestors did. It wasn’t just on your mother’s side in 1728 that your people got into trouble, but also on your father’s side in 1817. After a little bit of research and the help of Olivia’s memory of your father being from England, it seems the former Duke of Karlington was involved in trying to overthrow Queen Charlotte. Couldn’t have that be discovered, could you?”

Madeleine glared at Olivia. “I should have known that a descendant from traitors would make certain to point out other decent noble’s despicable relatives.”

“You took the book and decided to have those pages removed. But how to do it in a way that Liam wouldn’t notice?” Shawn interrupted before Olivia could retaliate. “You needed to have the book taken apart by a specialist and then rebounded. Simple glue apparently wouldn’t do with the old leather. That’s why if we go to your desk we will find a brochure for a book binding place called Rebound.”

Madeleine paled. She stood up and lifted her chin. “Yes, I took it. If I refuse to recognize my ancestors that betrayed their monarchs then no one else should.”

Gus and Shawn shared a fist bump as Liam had Bastien lead Madeleine away.

Once she was gone, Shawn turned his sharp eyes on Drake and Olivia. “I see what the big secret is. I wasn’t sure which John Hughes movie you were. I thought maybe a gender switched Pretty In Pink. But now that you are all together, I see you guys are The Breakfast Club.”

“What?!” Everyone exclaimed.

“Olivia is Molly Ringwald. She’s rich and fallen for the less economically sound tough guy, Judd Nelson or Drake in this instance. Liam is Emilo Estevez. Nice. Popular. Everyone likes him. I guess that means Riley is Ally Sheedy. Hmm. Hana doesn’t really have a character. We could make you the principal but that just seems mean. Maybe the little sister to Anthony Michael Hall...but you’re too sweet for that too.  Maxwell...you’re Anthony Michael Hall but way cooler.” Shawn pointed at each one. “And just like in the movie, Molly and Judd are meeting in secret to be together.”

Everyone stared at the duchess and the commoner that were both speechless at their secret being discovered.

“And my work here is done.” Shawn exclaimed, rubbing his hands together. He walked over to the door. “If you will excuse me, I’m going to catch up on that sleep everyone was mentioning earlier.”

_____________

“I am going to miss this country. After Hana refused my offer of marriage, I guess this will only be a fond memory.” Shawn said as he boarded the plane with the others.

“I’m just glad she made us going away bags.” Gus opened his and frowned. “Shawn! Where are my cookies?”

“Hmm? Seems like another mystery.” He held tight to his bag as Gus demanded he either share what he had or return what was stolen. “Man, I didn’t take your cookies.”

“You must be out of your damned mind if you think I believe that.” Gus argued. The best friends began to talk over one another, bringing up the great cupcake incident of fifth grade.

Juliet sighed as she sat down with Carlton. “It’s going to be a long flight.”

Carlton nodded. “Good thing I stole Guster’s bag of baked goods.” He offered a cookie to Juliet. She glanced at Shawn and Gus before biting into a chocolate chip cookie.

[freddiesaysalright]

My Man Part IV

A Ben!Roger Taylor x Reader Fic

Summary: Reader is a Broadway actress currently starring in a West End production of Funny Girl. She’s a widow, thanks to the Vietnam War, but it’s a well-kept secret. She also wants everyone to think she doesn’t care for rock music. She met Roger Taylor when he brought his date backstage. They didn’t start off great, but a party at Freddie’s turned them around. Now, they’re friends.

Word Count: 2.1K 

Tag List: @bohemian-war @kittygirlno @rebelrebelyourefaceisamess @rockyroadthepastryarchy @goodoldfashionedloverboyy @jennyggggrrr @discodeacygotmorerhythm @x1975sos  If you’d like to be added, let me know!

Part I   Part II   Part III

Over the coming weeks, your time with Roger became as sacred to you as the hours you were on stage each night. He was so open and fun and passionate, and he brought that out of you whether you realized it or not. In the years after losing George, you became a ghost. A shadow of a woman who went through the motions. You only showed energy on stage. With Roger, you were alive. You were an active participant in your spirit flourishing. Even Gary told you that your Fanny Brice was improved. You sang more soulfully, your jokes hit harder, and your tears meant more.

You could not place when exactly Roger had done this for you. But you guessed it was the slow chipping away at the wall around your heart. It had taken years to build. Now came this idiot drummer with a good smile and wicked humor. It made you incredibly happy but more conflicted than ever.

You could not deny your attraction to him after that first of several erotic dreams about him. Even when you were awake and he touched your arm or hugged you, you thought about what it would be like. Not only to make love to him, but to be his. To give him your heart completely.

Then you remembered George. True, it had been years, but he was the only man you’d ever been with. And you thought the love you shared with him was once in a lifetime. When he died, you told yourself there was no way you could ever feel that again. But with Roger, you felt the butterflies and the happiness. It was less hopeful than with George, since you were terrified of being hurt more than ever. Your heart was beaten and battered and you did not think you could take it if you lost Roger too. All the emotions would hit you at once and you’d get so overwhelmed. Weirdly enough, the person to calm you down was always Roger.

You also hung out with the band a lot. They were always popping over to each others’ places and spending time, even outside the studio. It was very sweet.

One day, you were at Roger’s and he was playing around on the drums. You liked to watch him play because his focus was incredible. You got to see how seriously he took his craft. It reminded you of all your late nights going over lines or pushing your voice to hit a note just once more. You had never realized how much went into drumming before.

“How do you do that?” you wondered aloud.

He stopped. “Do what?”

“Look so effortlessly talented.”

His brow furrowed. “Are you joking?”

“No!” you assured him. “You just make it look so easy.”

“It’s not,” he replied, smiling a little. “But don’t you think you do the same thing?”

“I don’t look like I’m having nearly as much fun,” you said.

“I disagree.”

“Could you teach me?” you asked suddenly.

His face lit up like the Fourth of July. “Hell yeah!”

He beckoned you over and let you take a seat behind the drum set. He stood behind you and guided you through a couple beats from Queen songs. You struggled through it, often doing the same thing with both hands.

Chuckling, he said, “Let me help you.”

He wrapped his hands around yours and moved them for you, slowly. His touch was soft and warm and you could feel his breath on your neck as he leaned over you. It sent a shiver down your spine.

Then he watched you attempt it again. You couldn’t help but notice the way he bit his lip watching you play. After a few more tries, you got it on your own.

“I nailed it!” you cried, excitedly. “But seriously, I don’t know how you do this.”

“Years of practice,” he returned. “Just like you, I expect.”

“That’s true.”

“Can you teach me something?” he asked, a sly look on his face.

“What could I possibly teach you?” you returned.

“Teach me to dance,” he said.

“I suppose I can try,” you agreed. “Move the couch back and I’ll move the coffee table.”

You did so, and it left ample space for the pair of you. He met you in the center of the room, and you were barely a foot from one another. You moved to adjust his arms for his frame before coming to stand in front of him again.

“Have you ever done the foxtrot?” you asked.

“Never in my life,” he told you.

“Okay,” you said with a laugh. “It’s not too difficult, I swear.”

You showed him the basic steps; what to do on which count and how to hold his frame. You felt a bit flushed at times when he was holding you so close. You took a turn about the room, and he finished with dipping you, causing you to laugh.

“Very good!” you praised as he led you upright again.

“Have I swept you off your feet?” he teased.

You rolled your eyes.

“I’ll just have to keep working on it then,” he said.

“Let’s put the furniture back,” you said.

Just when his living room was returned to its usual state, the door burst open. In walked Freddie, John, and Brian. They looked at Roger expectantly.

“What is it, guys?” he asked.

“Did either of you read the latest issue of In Tune?” Brian asked.

In Tune was a gossip magazine specifically about musicians. It was generally considered garbage, and yet they still sold out on shelves. Even a fake scandal was better than nothing, apparently.

“No,” you answered. “My eyes happen to be attached to my brain.”

Roger sniggered. John tossed you the magazine.

“You two made the front page,” he said.

“What?!” you gasped, looking at the cover.

It was true. There was a photo of you and Roger leaving a movie theater. The headline read, “Roger Taylor’s New Flame! A Secret Wedding?” In the corner, they had placed a close up of your left hand where your wedding ring was visible.

“Alright, Y/N, front page!” Roger joked, offering his hand for a high five.

You gave it to him, grinning. “Tony’s be damned, this is the greatest accomplishment of my life!”

They all laughed.

“How did you find this?” you asked.

“Saw it on the news stand,” Brian explained.

“I was just so thrilled they weren’t talking about me for once,” Freddie added.

“Did you read the article?” you wondered.

“No, we figured we’d wait and share that with you,” Freddie said.

You checked the cover and saw that the story was on page thirteen. Eagerly, you flipped to it and began to read aloud; “Roger Taylor, drummer for the infamous rock band Queen, was spotted coming out of a London cinema with a mystery lady last weekend. We suspect the pair eloped and have been together for months, as Taylor has not been seen in public with the usual amount of bimbos around him - now, that’s rude - for several weeks. Also, the new woman wears a plain band on her left ring finger. Could it be the playboy drummer has settled down at last? We intend to find out more! - Ugh it just goes on about women you’ve taken out before.”

“Do they really not know you’re the star of a West End show?” John wondered, taking the magazine and scanning it. “That seems rather ignorant.”

“That’s In Tune for you,” you said. “All about the rock stars and disco divas. Nothing about us poor, untalented Broadway performers.”

“It does mention you were seeing Grease,” John pointed out.

“Well, that is vital information,” Brian said.

Freddie looked at Roger. “Really? Grease?”

“She likes musicals!” Roger returned indignantly. “Also it was a cheap, late night showing.”

“A right Prince Charming, you are,” Brian remarked.

“Shut up,” Roger retorted.

“Really, you’d think you could splurge for the new Mrs,” you chimed in.

“Alright, next time I’ll take you to Paris,” he said. “How’s that for romance?”

“Can we still go see Grease though?” you said through a laugh.

“Sorry, but John Travolta’s head is too large for his body and it freaks me out,” he replied.

You giggled. “What the hell?”

“It’s just a thing,” he said with a shrug.

“My darlings, we’ve got to be at the studio,” Freddie interrupted. “We’re already late.”

“Only ‘cause we picked you up first,” John said.

Freddie grinned and then looked at you. “Would you like to come along?”

You shook your head. “I’ve got to get home before I head to the theater.”

“Want me to walk you home, Y/N?” Roger offered.

“No, thanks, I can make it,” you said.

“Have a good show,” he told you.

“Break a leg, darling,” Freddie said. “And come have dinner with us when it’s over.”

“You’ve got it, Mr. Mercury,” you promised.

You left after hugging them all. As you walked, you reflected. Each time you left Roger, your guilt subsided a little. You felt lighter than air as you entered your own flat. But your thoughts were interrupted when your phone rang.

“Hello?” you answered.

“Y/N,” the voice on the other end of the line was your agent, Stephen. “Are you busy?”

“Not at all, what’s up?” you asked.

“I’ve got incredible news for you,” he said. “There’s a production of Oklahoma in the works for here on West End, and the director is in town today. He called me and asked if you’d be willing to try for the part of Laurie!”

You nearly dropped your phone. Laurie was your dream role. The one that made you want to be an actress in the first place.

“You still there?” he asked.

“Yes,” you said, a little breathless. “I’m just - you know how I feel about that role!”

“I do, dear!” he returned. “I’m so excited for you! Can you meet him tomorrow at his hotel room?”

You froze. Meeting a stranger at his hotel room seemed odd. It was far from professional. You normally met a director or producer at a theater if they didn’t have an office.

“Is everything okay?” Stephen asked. “I know it’s a bit unorthodox, but he’s heading to America in three days to meet with the guy he wants for Curly. If you want me to tell him you can’t - ”

“Don’t be silly, I’ll go there,” you said, trying to sound more easy about it than you were.

“Great, I’ll let him know,” he said. “He wants to meet at two.”

He gave you the address and you wrote it down. You thanked Stephen and when you hung up, you squealed.

“I’m going to be Laurie!” you cried, pumping your fist in the air.

Later that night, you met up with Roger and the guys for dinner like you promised. As soon as you got to the restaurant, you ran to Roger and leapt into his arms. He spun you around and kissed your cheek.

“What’s got into you?” he wondered.

“I got the best news before the show tonight,” you said.

You explained to them what your agent said and they congratulated you. Roger was silent, though.

“What?” you asked.

“I don’t like the idea of you meeting him in a hotel room,” he said. “It’s sketchy.”

“Come on, Rog, you heard what she said,” Brian said, comfortingly. “It’s an unusual circumstance. I’m sure they’ll meet again properly, but she’s got to get her foot in the door.”

“Thank you, Mr. May,” you said, and then turned back to Roger. “Can’t you just be supportive?”

He frowned but agreed. “Of course. Congrats, Y/N.”

“Thank you,” you returned, but the tension remained the rest of the night.

When dinner was over, Roger did walk you home. As you fell in step beside him, his silence made you crazy. It felt childish but you refused to be the first one to speak. If he had a problem with how you handled your career, that was on him. You had nothing to apologize for.

“Can I see that address again?” he said, coming to an abrupt stop.

It was an odd way to begin an apology, but you obliged. You fetched the slip of paper from your bag and handed it to him.

“This is right around the corner from the studio,” he said. “Will you come by afterward and tell me how it goes?”

You beamed. “Of course I will!”

“Wonderful,” he returned and then gave you the directions. “You will be careful, won’t you?”

“You know me,” you said. “I’m always careful. Plus, I’m a grown woman. I don’t need protecting. Okay?”

With an irritated sigh he said, “Okay.”

“Thank you,” you returned. “Now, get me home, I’m getting cold.”

He didn’t reply, but took you under his arm for the rest of the walk.  

[sassyshoulderangel319]

Concert Date

This one is ALMOST 3,000 words. It’s 2,997. So close. But I didn’t want to add three more words XD

Previous MLQC writings: 1, 2, 3, 4

I stood in the VIP seating section of Kiro’s concert with a small smile on my face as he bounded onto the stage. “How’s everyone doing tonight?” he asked brightly.

Shrieks of excited fans immediately filled the concert hall. Kiro chuckled.

“Glad to hear it. It’s so good to see everyone. Thank you all so much for coming to this performance—”

“I LOVE YOU KIRO!” a fan shouted.

Kiro beamed. “I love you too. I love all of you. I can’t put into words how much it means to me to have support from fans like mine. You’re all always so excited and enthusiastic. For a guy like me, nothing could be better. I’m so thankful to each and every one of you.” He cleared his throat. “Tonight, I’d like to dedicate this performance to my best friend. Without her, I wouldn’t have been able to finish half the songs on the new album. Mostly because she has the most terrifying glare I have ever seen.”

He glanced over at me while the crowd laughed. I glared at him for calling me out. He smiled slightly and winked.

“Alright! Now that that’s out of the way, who’s ready to get—this—started?!”

The amount of noise that filled the venue made me break out my earplugs before the music even started. I jammed them into my ears and covered them with my hair. I could still hear everything, but it was just muffled enough that my ears weren’t aching in protest.

He started to sing. Most of the venue sang along with him. Including me.

Before we met in that convenience store, I’d always been aware of his music, just never been a huge fan. Sure I heard his songs on the radio all the dang time, but I’d never sought it out. Kiki owned basically all of his albums, and she liked to play them during quiet moments in the office too. I knew his songs but I’d never known much about him besides superstar.

Then we ran into each other and I was instantly charmed by him. That was when I started to really be a fan.

Savin was sitting next to me, pretending he wasn’t Kiro’s manager and agent. I liked to pretend I didn’t realize he flirted with me a lot because it would often get an embarrassed rise out of Kiro, but I knew Savin thought I was attractive.

Victor always thought I was an idiot because he talked about stuff I didn’t know a whole lot about. But if he ever bothered to ask me about subjects I was more knowledgable in, he wouldn’t be so quick to deal out insults to my intelligence. I wasn’t terribly business-savvy was all. But I wasn’t so stupid that I couldn’t tell when Savin was flirting with me. It wasn’t like he was subtle about it. Kiro wasn’t subtle about his flirting either.

And Kiro knew, deep down, that no matter how much his agent flirted with me I only had eyes for Kiro. He pouted when Savin flirted but never threw a fit.

As the concert continued, I glanced at Savin out of the corner of my eye. I wondered if he knew about Kiro’s Evol. Kiro hadn’t directly told me about it yet, but after Victor froze time in the middle of the studio and Kiro wasn’t frozen with it, I knew he had some sort of power.

I suspected it had something to do with his success as an idol. The charm that made everyone fall in love with him. It wasn’t as flashy as Gavin’s power over the wind or as incredibly powerful as Victor’s ability to stop time, but it still made him influential.

And it was lucky that someone as caring as Kiro got a power like that. If someone with the wrong hands could charm anyone into doing anything, that could be catastrophic. Kiro just used it to convince his fans he loved them all and make sure they knew he was genuine when he said it.

Savin probably had no idea.

I went back to watching Kiro.

The stage lights were causing him to sweat. His gold bangs clung to his forehead in places. He’d removed the jacket he’d jumped onto stage wearing, throwing it over the back of the piano to reveal the pale yellow tank top underneath it.

I leaned over to Savin. “Does he wear all that jewelry by choice or because his stylist says so?” I called over the blasting music.

Savin regarded Kiro thoughtfully. “A mixture of both,” he said. “The earrings and ring are all him. Most of his necklaces are his stylist’s idea. Same with the bracelets and every other ring besides the one on his right pointer finger.”

“Cool. Just wondering.”

We went back to watching the concert.

At intermission, we got up and slipped backstage as subtly as we could.

“Miss Chips!” Kiro exclaimed, wiping his sweat off on a towel that he quickly handed to a staff member before rushing to me and throwing his arms around me. “You came!”

“Ew—Kiro you’re all sweaty!” I protested—with a laugh so he knew I wasn’t actually cross with him. He let me go with a pout. I whacked him lightly in the arm with the back of my hand. “And of course I came, silly! I wasn’t going to miss this for the world!”

He laughed and ruffled my hair. “Thanks. I’m really glad you’re here.”

“Well, I’m happy to be here.” I smiled and gave him another hug so he knew I was being genuine.

“Kiro, go change!” Another staff member shouted.

“Oh right!” Kiro said, eyes going wide. He grabbed my hand. “I gotta get out of these sweaty clothes for Act Two but I’ll be right back!”

I smiled. “Of course,” I said. “I’ll be right here.”

He rushed off, fingers clinging to mine for as long as he could before losing contact and breaking into a run. I chuckled and leaned against the wall. Savin had his arms folded.

“I never see him as happy as he is with you,” Savin said.

“Well… sometimes we just need one friend who doesn’t judge us for everything we do. Kiro’s been lucky to not fall out of public favor yet because he’s so charming and kind, but he knows he can be himself with me. If he gets mad, I won’t destroy his career. If he has a breakdown from stress, I’m not going to report it for all the world to see. He can be his private self with me instead of his public performance. So I think it relieves him to be around me.”

Savin hummed in thought. “I’m grateful you two are such good friends.”

“He’s easy to be around.” I shrugged.

“How did you two even meet anyway?”

“Luck,” I said, completely dodging the question. Kiro hadn’t told him about the convenience store? Alright then. I wouldn’t either. “I mean, I’m a producer. I bump into people of various levels of fame for work a lot.”

That was acceptable, right?

Kiro came bounding back to us in a new outfit, this one just a tank top and jeans, completely foregoing a jacket to cover his arms and shoulders. He had a makeup case in his hand and was hastily smearing it over his face to try and stop his skin from being shiny before he started sweating under stage lights again.

“Told you I’d be right back!”

“Yes, you’re very punctual,” I said playfully. “Here. Let me get your forehead. You completely missed a patch.”

“I did?” He complained.

“Yup!”

“That’s what happens when you don’t use a mirror,” Savin remarked. I took the makeup and sponge applicator from his hands and started filling in the spots Kiro missed.

“Hold still—you’re like a squirmy puppy!” I chided. He froze under my fingers, eyes wide. “Thank you!”

He gave me a sheepish smile. I smiled back. Gosh this man was adorable.

I made quick work of his makeup and then we were being pulled in different directions. Savin was pulling me back to our seats and the other staff was pulling Kiro back toward the stage. Someone handed him an energy drink.

“Oh that’s not gonna be good,” I muttered as a door swung shut, cutting off my field of vision.

We retook our seats just in time for Kiro to jump back onstage with all the energy of a sunlit tornado. “Aaand we’re back!” he called.

Fans screamed. Savin and I chuckled.

“Hey Savin.”

“Yeah?”

“I bet you a bottle of soda that Kiro has a massive sugar crash right after the show.”

Savin chuckled. “You’re on. We’ll go visit after the show and see how he is.”

I laughed.

Kiro stopped entertaining the crowd with his sense of humor and went back to his songs. He started it with one of his most popular love songs from his first-ever album. The crowd sang along enthusiastically. Out of the corner of my eye, Savin scrunched his eyebrows and looked down at his phone.

“What is it?” I asked.

“This wasn’t on the original setlist,” he said.

At that moment, Kiro looked over at me. His smile grew wider—but I had no idea how he could even see me past the stage lights—and he shot me a wink. The image of his wink on the two jumbotrons flanking the stage made the fans scream.

No one but me knew who he was looking at.

I sang along for the whole rest of the concert with the all of the other fans and then followed Savin backstage once again when it was over. We were told once it was over, Kiro went right to the dressing room and hadn’t emerged yet. He’d done two encores in order to finish the setlist after inserting his old love song and I didn’t blame him for being exhausted.

I followed a staff member to his dressing room—that had a big star on the door.

Knocking gently, I called, “Kiro? You in there?”

Rustling preceded Kiro opening the door. “Miss Chips,” he greeted softly. His hair was a sweaty mess and his eyelids were drooping. “C’mere.” He pulled me into his arms and planted his nose in my hair. “‘M tired.”

“I know. But you did so well. I’m so proud of you.”

“Can I go to sleep now?”

“Yeah. We’ll load you up in the car and then you can sleep all you want,” I replied.

Savin nodded to me.

“C’n you… stay?” Kiro mumbled.

“Of course. I’ll stay with you as long as you want.”

He smiled into my hair. I felt it rather than saw it. He leaned heavily on me as I followed Savin to the back of the venue and into the car. Kiro draped himself over my lap and almost immediately passed out.

Savin got in the driver’s seat.

“He’s out,” I said.

“Just tell me what kind of soda you want,” he joked, starting the car.

I played with Kiro’s hair on the drive back to his villa, twisting it around my fingers, eyelids drooping myself. It was late and concerts were draining.

When we got back to his place, we roused Kiro, but I doubted he was actually awake. He walked back to his room while still relying on me for guidance and support, but he didn’t speak. I imagined it was like when I got my wisdom teeth out—at some point I’d walked from the surgery table to the recovery room table, but I don’t remember it at all due to the anesthetic. I figured Kiro’s post-concert exhaustion was similar.

Once I got Kiro all tucked in, I returned to the front of the house. Savin was waiting for me.

“C’mon. I’ll drive you home,” he said.

“Thanks,” I said.

“Shall we pick up a soda on the way?”

“Nah. I just wanna go home and get some sleep. We’ll take a rain check. Next time we see each other you can grab me a soda.”

“Deal.”

We went and got back in the car. Savin started it and then paused while he pulled his seatbelt on.

I glanced at him. “Something wrong?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No. Nothing,” he replied. Clicking his seatbelt into place, we started to drive off. I supplied the address of my apartment building and then settled into silence, perfectly content to let the classical music radio station fill the time between Kiro’s house and my building.

Savin, apparently, was not.

“You and Kiro seem close.”

“Well, I don't imagine he has many other friends.” I shrugged. “He’s always touring or writing new songs or being swamped by fans. It’s sad but natural that he should cling to the one friendship he has that really isn’t work-related.”

Savin opened his mouth to say something, but didn’t get the chance because I cut him off.

“Humans are aggressively social creatures by nature—it’s how we survive. Taking care of each other, forming bonds. I mean—humans bond with Roombas for goodness’ sake! We want to care for the people around us. Kiro doesn’t get that chance as often as a non-celebrity would. And then I come along and I’m kind and relatively calm and offering unconditional friendship. Of course he’d grab that like a life-preserver ring and hang on as tight as he could.”

Savin sighed. “I suppose you’re right. Do you think there’s something I can do about—”

“No and I don’t think you should try,” I interrupted vehemently. “You may be his manager but you don’t have to manage every single aspect of his life. You could loosen up a bit and give him leave to make more friends but you absolutely should not try to force anything.”

“Alright. You’re right.”

“Thanks.” Sometimes it was nice to hear that I was right when I spent half of my professional life listening to Victor tell me I was always wrong. I glanced out the window and watched the landscape pass.

“You really love him, don’t you?” Savin asked.

“Who, Kiro?” Given my mind had drifted to Victor for a moment I had to make sure I hadn’t mentioned any of it out loud and changed the subject of the conversation.

“Yeah.”

I felt my ears burn and knew I must have been going red—thank goodness we were driving in the dark of late-night.

“Well, I, uh…”

“It’s okay. You can tell me.”

“I, uh, I do love him—I know that much. But I don’t know if I love him… romantically. We’ve kinda been dancing around that for a while and… we haven’t really had many chances to explore the nature of our relationship in that regard. I’d do anything for him that I could within my power and I really just want to see him happy more than anything.”

Savin cleared his throat. “… Right,” he said, clearly unsure of how to respond to that.

I sighed and went back to watching the landscape fly by out the window. “He may act a lot like a boy but he’s a good man,” I added thoughtfully.

———

“Yeah that first problem when all the other hackers were in the room was too easy,” Kiro remarked while we were hanging out at his house. I was writing a show proposal to report to Victor and Kiro was doing… something. He had a laptop open too but he typed a lot faster than I did and I couldn’t see his screen. He could have been hacking—he could have been writing a new song. I had no idea. I felt like songwriting was more of a spiral-bound notebook thing.

“You call that ‘easy’?” I asked, looking up from my screen in confusion. “Really?”

He snickered. “Oh yeah. I’ve broken codes waaay harder than that over breakfast.

“Kiro!”

“What? It’s true.” He smiled at me—that bright, pleasant smile that made everyone’s problems feel like they were melting away.

“So. You said your mentor gave you the name Kiro. Was this the same mentor who passed the mantle of Key onto you? Or did you have a superstar mentor and a hacker mentor?”

That made him laugh. “It was the same mentor. He gave me Kiro. To be honest I don’t really remember what my name was before that. It’s been so long and, really, it doesn’t matter anymore. I am who I am and Kiro is a big part of that,” he said thoughtfully. It was one of those moments of profound maturity where the playful Kiro took a backseat to show off that he really was an incredibly wise, intelligent guy.

———

We’d had that conversation not long after the summit, hanging out at his place. It really solidified for me that he was an extremely complex person and a good one on top of that.

Savin dropped me off at my apartment building and waved as I ducked inside. By the time I got up to my unit, he’d driven off.

Exhausted—since concerts lasted forever and getting out of one was a whole time commitment in itself due to traffic—I took a shower, put on my pajamas, and fell right to sleep.

I don’t remember any of the dreams I had. To me, my sleep felt dreamless. A long expanse of healing blackness that ended with a loud vibration of my phone against the mug on my bedside table. Grumbling to myself, I cursed last-night-me for setting my phone so it was pressed against the ceramic mug.

I smacked around on my bedside until I found my phone. The buzzing wasn’t an alarm. It was my day off.

It was a text.

Kiro: Thanks for everything last night, Miss Chips. You really are the best <3

I smiled.

Me: You’re welcome, Kiro. It’s my pleasure :-)