#and it doesn’t stop. like last night we went out after ‘to decompress’ but it was literally just like a work meeting with cocktails

[aefensteorrra]

Normally I go to the office like fortnightly, if that, but this week I have to be there 4 days in a row and don’t get me wrong I’m thankful this isn’t the norm but I really think working from home is where it’s at because I have had zero time to cook or clean this week (because we’re also having to work till 7pm… screaming crying throwing up) and also can’t sort out any of the admin stuff with my energy provider which is really stressing me out

[hpimaginesandblurbs]

Ok but can u also do this but with ron + the twins, I love ur smuts !!!!!!!

pairing: reader x ron weasley x fred weasley x george weasley 

warning(s): 18+, unprotected sex, foursome, double penetration, oral (female and male receiving), face fucking, fingering

word count: 4.2k 

a/n: soooo this is the longest thing i’ve ever written on this account but if anyone deserves it its the damn weasleys. i tried to make this as non sweet home alabama as possible and that’s probably why it’s so long. anyways, enjoy this ungodly amount of smut while i decompress. 

You had been spending a majority of your summer at The Burrow, where you boyfriend Ron lived. You spent day in and day out with him, practically on top of one another whenever you could be, but that didn’t stop you from spending time with his family. His mother was incredible, albeit a little scary at times, his father was charming, and Ginny was becoming a fast friend. But you couldn’t help the particular draw you felt towards the twins, Fred and George. 

You couldn't deny they were attractive, the genes were strong in the Weasley family. And you often did a poor job at hiding your attraction. 

You didn’t think any of them had noticed your subtle glances or blushes. Little did you know, all three of them had noticed over the few weeks you had been there. They were just waiting you out. 

~~~

Tonight you were all cozied around the fire pit, drinking some firewhiskey, taking advantage of the fact that Molly and Arthur had gone to visit Ron’s oldest brother Bill and his wife, Fluer, for the weekend. You weren’t drunk by any means, but you were certainly feeling good. 

You were cuddled up to Ron’s side, his arm slung around your shoulders, a knitted blanket draped over your laps. You were so wrapped up in your boyfriend that you had barely noticed that Fred had taken the spot on your other side until his leg brushed against yours, making you still. 

“Do you need another drink, sweetheart?” Fred asked when you finally looked his way, his face far too close to yours in the situation to be normal. 

You blushed at his proximity, but nodded. “Um, yes, thank you,” you added bashfully. 

Fred dashed a charming smile at you and placed a soft kiss to your cheek before dashing off to get you another glass of whiskey, your blush only intensifying when you felt his lips on your skin. You prayed no one could see it through the light of the fire. 

Ron tugged you back into his side and dropped his lips to your ear. “Whatever you think you’re doing, stop,” he said lowly, clearly not pleased by the situation. 

“He kissed me,” you argued softly, your head turning to press a kiss against his neck. He pulled back and shot a look down at you, his brow raised. A look you couldn’t exactly argue with. You got caught and you knew it. 

You stayed quiet, trying to keep your eyes anywhere except the two men that currently had your stomach in knots. But that effort was broken when Fred made his way back over to you, plopping down beside you. He passed you your new drink and you thanked him for it, sitting up straight to take a sip. 

You were caught off guard when you were pulled into his body and away from Ron, Fred’s strong arm now wrapped around your shoulders. 

“Have you been enjoying your summer here so far?” He asked quietly, making sure only you could hear him. 

Your eyes flitted cautiously over the group around the fire, making sure no one was noticing the strange behavior. You paused when you met George’s eyes, his own trained on the interaction between you and Fred, but you tried your best to ignore it. 

“Um, yes. You’ve all been quite lovely. I like it here,” you told him genuinely. You had been enjoying your summer despite tonights most recent turn of events. 

“Mm, good,” Fred mused, shooting another smile down at you. You couldn’t help but notice the little mischievous glint in his eyes that he got every time he was thinking something that was likely to either end brilliantly or disastourly. “I saw we play a little game. Are you in?” He asked. 

You swallowed nervously, knowing this could end very poorly. “And what is this game?” You questioned. 

“Let’s see how jealous we can get Ron,” he whispered, the smile never leaving his face. 

“I- I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you argued, knowing fully well Ron had already told you to stop… doing whatever you were doing. 

“Oh, c’mon Y/N. Live a little. Anyhow, you already know how this is going to end,” he told you. 

“And how will this end?” You asked, raising your eyebrow at him. 

He moved closer to you, so close you could feel his breath on your face. Your whole body was hot and the blush was creeping back onto your face and you knew he could see it. 

“Judging by the noises I hear coming from his room almost every night, he’ll fuck you stupid. And I get to hear those pretty noises again,” he told you shamelessly, pulling you into him closer. 

You shot a nervous glance at Ron, only to find that he was already looking at you over the rim of his own cup, fire in his eyes. He raised a brow at you and you could see the way the corners of his lips were tugging up into a smirk, practically daring you to continue on. As if he knew exactly what you and Fred were talking about. 

“By the looks of it, he doesn’t seem to mind,” Fred added from behind you, making you whip your head around back to him. 

“Of course he’d mind. You’re his brother,” you argued incredulously, still not believing this conversation was even truly happening. 

“You think he doesn’t see the way you look at me and Georgie? You look at us like you want us to devour you,” he told you. 

You snuck a glance at George only to find that he was still looking at you. You could feel Ron’s eyes still on the back of your head. You gulped nervously, your brain short circuiting for a half a second. Did they… did they plan this? 

“I - I haven’t been -,” you went to argue, but Fred cut you off. 

“Don’t play coy with me. Maybe if you beg him nicely like I hear you do so well, he might let us join you tonight,” Fred teased, causing your core to pulse and drip with arousal at the thought. 

You could only stare back at him, his breath fanning your face as you took in his words. He knew he planted a seed in you that wouldn’t go away until it was satisfied. The smug look on his face only proved it. You didn’t get the chance to reply before you could hear Ron getting up from his place on the bench. 

“Bunny, come with me,” he said innocently enough to the ears of everyone else in the group, but you could hear the edge in his voice. 

You detangled yourself from Fred and rose up from your spot, taking Ron’s hand as he silently led you back into the house. Once you had passed through the threshold into the kitchen and away from the eyes of everyone else, he spun around to face you. 

“And what was all that about?” He asked, stepping right into your space so you had no other choice but to look up at him. 

“N-nothing. We were just having a chat,” you stuttered out, trying to not seem intimidated. 

“Wasn’t what it looked like to me. Spill it,” he said roughly, continuing to back you up until your back hit the counter, leaving you nowhere to go when his hands were placed on either side of your body. 

“Promise you won’t get mad,” you half heartedly requested. 

“Just tell me.” 

“He- he said, um, he said that we should try to make you jealous,” you told him. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it was only a half truth at best. 

“That’s not what has you blushing like a virgin though, is it? What did he say to you?” He pressed, the fire in his eyes growing larger by the second. 

You swallowed and took a deep breath before you even opened your mouth, knowing this could only go one of two ways. He’d either blow up entirely, or you’d have a night you’d never forget. “He said that if I begged you you’d let him and George join us,” you said quickly, all in one breath. 

You shut your eyes, waiting for his response. But when a chuckle fell from his lips your eyes shot back open in shock. 

“Is that what you want, bunny? Do you want them to join us?” He asked, his eyes now more playful than they had been just seconds prior. 

“Are you serious?” You asked after a moment, you head spinning that he was just offering this to you on a silver platter. You expected yelling, anger, the whole fit. You didn’t expect a cheeky smirk and twinkling eyes. 

“Do I look like I’m joking?”  

“They’re your brothers,” you argued. Why you were even arguing this, you weren’t sure. You wanted this and he knew it and they knew it. You just couldn’t understand why he was letting it happen. 

“It’s not like I’ll be fucking them,” he said with a laugh. “So, tell me what you want.” 

“If it’s okay with you…,” you started, trailing off. You looked up at him nervously, hoping your eyes conveyed enough of a plea that he would continue agreeing with you. 

“So beg,” he said, his voice dropping low as he continued to stare down at you. 

“I’ll be good, I promise. Just this once. I just - I - please,” you said, launching right into it but quickly running out of words as you watched the smirk grow on his face. 

“Go to my room. Strip. I’ll be up in a minute,” he told you, placing a kiss on your forehead before heading back outside. You watched his figure walk away for a moment, letting your mind race until you booked it up the stairs not wanting to wait any longer for the night to truly begin. 

~~~

You were waiting in your position on the bed for what felt like hours, but you knew it had only been a few minutes before you heard multiple sets of footsteps coming up the stairs. You moved to cover your chest when you heard the doorknob turn, unsure if you should be exposed or not right away. 

Ron came in first but left the door open just enough so your guests could hear. “Last chance, bun. Do you want this?” He asked, slowly coming over to rest his hands on the bed, leaning over slightly so his tall form was eye level with you. 

You knew it wasn’t your last chance to say no, but it was your last chance before the twins waltzed in. 

You took a shaky breath and nodded your head, saying “Yes,” loud enough so Fred and George could hear. 

The door was opening once more, the twins walking through, both pairs of eyes immediately on you. When the door shut, you stared up at them, unsure what to do or say, but their matching smirk told you they already had plans. 

Ron walked around the bed until he crawled on to it behind you, his legs bracketing your hips as you knelt between his spread thighs. 

“Let them see you,” he coaxed gently, hands coming around you to grip your forearms. 

He only put a light pressure on your skin, letting you move on your own as you exposed your chest to them. They took you in with hungry eyes but they didn’t move from where they both stood before you, waiting. 

“All of you,” Ron spoke again, his hands trailing down to your thighs, gently prying them apart. 

You leaned back and hid your face in his neck as he repositioned you, unable to look the two men in the eyes as your entire body got exposed to them. You knew you were a dripping mess over the situation and the embarrassment of it being so obvious made you squirm. 

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re more perfect than I imaged,” you heard George say, the bed dipping down infront of you. 

Your eyes snapped to him, watching him as he looked down at your glistening sex. His eyes were hungry when they met yours, desperate. Probably the exact mirror of your own. 

“Can I touch you?” George asked, his fingers twitching against the sheets, waiting. 

“Please,” you begged, wanting nothing more than for one of them to do anything right now. 

George wasted no time in bringing his fingers directly to your cunt, trailing one long finger through your slit while his thumb trailed soft circles onto your clit. You couldn’t hold back the moan that fell from your lips when he pushed his finger in, immediately searching for you g-spot. 

As if your noises were a cue for Fred, the bed dipped on your other side and without a word, he was kissing down your chest. Soon enough, he was attacking your nipples when George was working your from the inside out. Your back was arching and your hips were moving at their own volition, unable to stop yourself under their ministrations.

“Does that feel good?” George asked you softly, placing kisses on your shoulder. 

When you only nodded, Ron grabbed your chin and forced you to look directly at George. “I won’t remind you again, bunny. Use yours words,” he said sweetly, but you knew there was danger laced in his words. You knew better than anyone else what he could do to you if he reminded you one more time. 

“Yes. Feels so good. Please don’t stop,” you told George, already breathless from the three men surrounding you. 

You felt Fred chuckle against your skin and you knew the smirk George was wearing was only mimicked by Ron’s behind you. They knew exactly what they were doing to you. 

You couldn’t stop the whine that left you when George removed his hand, but your eyes lit up when you saw him go to kneel at the edge of the bed. He pulled up his to the edge, draped your legs over his shoulder, and started trailing kitten licks all along your slit until his tongue was swirling around your clit. 

You held fell back against Ron’s shoulder, a moan falling from your lips as Fred moved to your other side to attack your opposite nipple. 

“Having fun?” Ron asked, beaming down at you. 

You nodded breathlessly, your eyes rolling back in your head with a flushed smile on your face. “Want you too,” you told him. 

“Of course you do, my greedy girl,” Ron mused, his finger coming to tilt your lips back and locking your lips in a kiss. 

Your body was overwhelmed with just their lips. You weren’t sure how you would handle it when their pants came off. 

Your hips were grinding down onto George’s face without you sparing it a second thought and you kept pushing your chest into Fred’s lips, your entire body grinding back on Ron’s body. 

“She tastes like fucking heaven,” George said, finally coming up for a breath. His entire chin was soaked in his own saliva and your juices and his eyes were blown with lust. 

Ron made a noise of agreement that was swallowed up by your lips, but you were ripped away from your boyfriend by George’s grip on your neck. He pulled you into a kiss with him, tasting yourself on his tongue, as Fred trailed kisses down your body until he was getting a taste of you for himself. 

Fred quickly brought you your orgasm, his tongue so deep inside of you that your toes were curling. Your hands had a monster grip on Ron’s thighs and every noise you made got swallowed by George, his lips hot on yours. 

You finally relaxed your body against Ron’s, his chest being the perfect place to settle against, as your body calmed down. 

“Think you can handle all three of us?” Fred asked cheekily, looking up at you from his place on the floor. 

You gave a shaky nod, but in your head you were unsure how this would even work. You never thought you’t get this far to even have considered it. 

That line of thought was abruptly cut off when Ron grabbed your hair and yanked back so you were looking up at him again. “What did I say about using your words?” He asked darkly.

“Yes, I want to. I can,” you got out breathlessly, still basking in the sting of your scalp. 

“Good,” Ron said, now satiated with your words. “Get on your hands and knees for us, bunny.” 

He gave you one last searing kiss before releasing you, letting you adjust your own shaky limbs on the bed until you were in the position he instructed you to be in. As you did that, the boys began stripping themselves of their clothes, Fred and George both strategically in your line of sight depending on which way you turned your head. 

You watched as they both ripped their shirts over their heads, a sight you were accustomed to thanks to many sweaty afternoons in the yard playing Quidditch. But you didn’t know where to look as they peeled down their jeans and briefs, relieving both of their impressive lengths. They were both around the same length, but Ron was thicker than both of them. No matter what, you knew you’d be sore in the morning. 

“This is how it’s gonna work, bunny,” Ron said, finally rounding the bed so he could see you. “I’m gonna fuck this pretty little cunt,” he told you, adding emphasis of his possession when he bent over and easily hooked two fingers inside of you, pressing directly on your g-spot. You jumped at the abrupt action, but you never broke your eye contact with him.

“Fred’s going to fuck that tight ass,” he continued, and you watched as Fred rounded the bed until he was behind you. 

“And George is gonna fuck that cute face,” Ron finished, George coming up on the other side of you to grip your face to force you to look at him. 

“Does that sound good, sweetheart?” George asked, looking down at you fondly. 

“Yes, fuck. Please,” you said, your hips beginning to move against nothing now that Ron had removed his fingers, searching for any ounce of friction you can get. 

They moved in almost perfect sync. Ron maneuvered his way underneath you swiftly, George pulled your head off to the side so your mouth was lined up with the tip of his cock, and you could feel Fred’s lube covered fingers breach the entrance of your tightest hole all at once. You were overwhelmed in the best way, unsure what to do with yourself but totally just along for whatever ride they were about to bring you on. 

When Ron fucked up into you roughly, George immediately pushed your head down to feel the full effects of your moan of his cock, causing a shiver to run through his body. They were practically fucking your mouth and core in tandem, one pulling out while the other brutally thrust in. 

You felt as if you were splitting open for them already, but when Fred’s cock finally lined up with your entrance and began pushing in, you practically saw stars. 

George let you pull away from him for a moment so you could breath through the new pressure inside of you, your head now buried in Ron’s neck as you panted and moaned. Ron had slowed down his thrusts to match with Fred, balancing you on the precipice of pain and pleasure. 

“You’re doing so fucking good for us, Y/N. Just give it a minute and it’ll feel so good. You’re gonna be so pretty when you cum for us,” Ron mused quietly in your ear, knowing that you’d latch on to his voice to get you through the intensity. 

Finally, your hips starting moving against theirs, a silent signal you were ready for them to fuck you, all three of them truly went wild with you body. 

George dragged your face back over to him, letting you do your own thing but keeping a steady hand in your hair in case you tried to pull away. Ron and Fred were fucking into you in perfect sync, pulling out and fucking into you at the same time. 

It was so intense you were shaking, only being held up by three strong pairs of hands at this point. But you couldn’t hide how good it was making you feel. Even as deep as George’s cock was down your throat, it was barely muffling the screams of pleasure you were giving them. You just hoped someone remembered to cast a silencing charm. 

You could hear them talking around you, a mix of praises directed at you and words shared between themselves. “Fuck, you feel so good” and “Just like that” mixed with “She feels like fucking heaven” and “Her mouth is a dream��. You could barely hear them over the blood pumping through you, but you knew you’d remember it later with a blush and a smile. 

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum. Swallow it all for me,” George told you, bruising your hair out of your sweaty face. You felt the unmistakable twitch of his cock just before he spilled his cum inside of your mouth and fucked it down your throat, giving you no choice but to follow his request. He came with one of the prettiest noises you had ever heard, and you knew you’d want to hear it again someday if you were lucky enough. 

You pulled away from George panting, finally able to have a minute to catch your breath as Fred and Ron continued to pound furiously into you, your body jolting with every deliberate thrust. 

“Ron, please I’m so close,” you begged, for what you weren’t entirely sure, but you knew he’d know what to do. All you could focus on was how close you were, how tightly you were gripping both of your cocks, and trying your best to balance on shaky arms so you didn’t collapse. 

Without missing a beat, Ron turned his head to George. “Touch her clit,” he told him, finally sounding breathless from all the work he was putting in. 

Fred’s arms came around you to pull you up until your back was against his chest, giving George full access to your most sensitive spot. 

“Cum for us. Show us how much you loved this and cum for us,” Fred said low in your ear. 

Your eyes never left Ron’s as all three of them worked you closer and closer to the edge. As much as the twins were turning you on, this orgasm was for you boyfriend. Everyone you had was. He was the one that let this happen. Let them take you like this. And he was the one currently fucking your g-spot with every thrust it made your head spin. 

“Cum for me” was all Ron had to say, seeing and feeling just how close you were, for you to explode. 

Your vision went white and your whole body shook, the only thing keeping you grounded was Fred’s warm chest pressed against you. You knew the scream you were hearing was your own, but you couldn’t keep it quiet no matter how hard you tried. You pulsed around their cocks, milking them of their own orgasms as you were going through yours. You felt their cum fill you completely, another moan leaving your mouth at how erotic it felt. 

When you finally felt as though you had come back down to real life, you were settled against Ron’s chest, his cock still in you, while the twins were busying themselves with getting dressed. They were talking quietly while Ron ran his hand up and down along your back, just waiting until you were finally back in the present. 

George was the first one to notice your eyes had opened again when he finally got his pants back on. He walked over to the bed and knelt down so he was almost eye level with you. 

“That was wonderful, darling. You were perfect,” he told you, placing a quick kiss to your forehead before righting himself only for Fred to take his place. 

“What he said,” Fred told you with a smirk and mimicking his twin's kiss to your forehead. “We’ll see you two lovebirds in the morning,” he added with a wink. 

They both made their way out of the room, the door clicking behind them, leaving you and Ron in a blissed out silence. 

“Did you have fun?” He finally asked, tilting his neck so he was looking down at you. 

“I did. Thank you,” you said with a soft smile. 

“My girl always gets what she wants. You just have to ask, bunny,” He said, placing a kiss on your nose. 

When you moved your lips up to move against his, he stopped you with a chuckle. “No offense but my brother did just cum in your mouth. So let’s go get you cleaned up so I can kiss you properly, yeah?” He asked, wrapping a blanket around you so he could get you down the hallway and into the bathroom. 

“I thought you weren’t going to be weird about it,” you grumbled under your breath as he adjusted you in his arms, carrying you bridal style. 

“That’s different and you know it,” he said defensively as he made his way for the door, making you giggle.

[mindofharry]

In which you’re way too good at riding harry.

request imagine riding harry so good he needs his inhaler. i need holy water.

smut!!! this request has been keeping me up at night. i’m so fucking in love with it. my first time writing sub!harry !!! feedback is welcome as always!! <3

“I’m gonna ride you when we get home” You said placing a hand on Harry, your husbands, thigh. He had been such a good boy during dinner, telling stories to your friends, saying please and thank you to the waiters and eating all his food. You were guessing he wanted something in return for being so good, and you were really weren’t opposed to the idea.

Harry grinned and nodded “Ok, whatever you want princess” He said, trying to keep in how excited he was but harry was practically shaking. You smiled right back, squeezing his thigh before putting it back on the wheel.

Harry is usually always a good boy, he doesn’t like to disappoint you. But sometimes he does love a good spank, the same as you. But today, today he just needed you without any punishments or teasing. It had been a long week at the studio and full of stupid dinners with possible collaborators, and harrys cock was really missing out. He was way too busy this week, and couldn’t play with you and you couldn’t play with him.

But tonight, tonight was just going to be you giving harry everything he wanted and more. Starting off with riding him. Harry absolutely loves when you ride him, he loves how your breasts move and your thighs burn, he loves how your hand move your hair and the way your bite your lip.

He most importantly loves you jumping on his cock.

You married quite young, you were 22 and harry was 23. Harry was doing his solo work and you just wanted to explore the world with harry. So you did just that, you married and went on tour with harry. The sex was fucking incredible, you both did your exploring with sex and are both quite skilled in the exercise. Harry wanted to try some new things out, and you were more than happy to help. You’ve always wanted to be a dominant, just never found the right partner to pursue that dream with.

It started out with small little things, like spankings. And then you both branched out into other things, like pegging and butt plugs. After that, harry decided that he liked it. He liked being bossed around and babied a little. So after a year of marriage, you became harry styles’ dominant and he became your sub.

“Nearly home, baby” You said stopping at a red light. “You excited?” You asked and harry nodded quickly, not able to contain himself any longer. He was itching to take his pants off, they felt too tight. It almost felt a little claustrophobic.

“So hard for you. Can’t wait for you to take my pants off” Harry said and you bit your lip, find it hard to contain yourself too. You could cum at the sight of harry. He was sweaty, his curls clinging to his forehead. His top unbuttoned at the top, his hands resting on his cock. He was a sight for sore eyes.

“I know, just two more minutes” You reassured him, pulling into the neighbourhood. It was a nice house you and harry had committed to. You had a flat in london too, that you had bought during college. You wanted to keep it for obvious reasons, harry could stay there during his visits and it’s nice to just have a place to go to when america gets too much. But this home you and harry had bought, is beautiful. It’s in LA, near jeff and glenne. It’s honestly the perfect family home.

You pull into the driveway, a little faster than usual and immediately unbuckle yourself moving over to peck harrys lips three times. He moaned at the contact, his hand coming to your cheek. He flushed as you pulled back biting his lip.

“Come on, baby boy” You whispered opening up the car door open and walking up to the house.

Harry let out a breathe and grinned as he saw you opening up the front door, he quickly opened the car door closing it and running up after you. Before you fulling opened the door you placed a hand on your very excited husbands chest.

“Now tell me the rules”

The three rules are really important to you. You make sure he knows them each time you guys do this. If he doesn’t remember them, you take him through it step by step. You want him to feel safe and comfortable. And most importantly have fun.

“Say my safe word, red, if i need to stop or feel uncomfortable. We can stop at anytime. And if i’m unhappy to tell you” He listed and you nodded pecking his lips.

“Go on, upstairs. Be naked and laying flat on the bed” You said and harry nodded quickly almost tripping over himself as he rushed up the stairs. You giggled and decided a glass of wine is needed right now.

You open up the fridge and take out the white wine, then turn around opening up the cupboard to take out a wine glass. You were just teasing yourself now, but you knew harry needed a few moments to himself. To decompress for a bit.

There would be no teasing tonight. You’ll ride him until you can’t anymore.

You down the glass of wine and place the glass in the sink. After a couple of seconds you decide you’ll put both of you out of your misery and go upstairs. You can hear harry talking to himself when you reach the top of the stairs. These the moments you absolutely adore about this relationship. The sweet little moments most people wouldn’t pick up on. Harry talking to himself, his little pout, his curls.

You just love harry a lot.

You open the bedroom door, to see harry naked and laying flat on the bed like you told him to. You can see that he’s struggling to keep his hands to himself. His eyes lit up when he sees you. You take him all in. His red cock, leaking with pre cum all ready and the sweat forming on his bare chest.

Harry styles is beautiful.

“You ready? Comfy?” you asked putting your phone and keys on the dresser. Harry nodded, moving his legs up the bed a bit.

“Words, please”

“Yes. comfy, baby” He said quickly and you nodded with a smile. “Good” you replied and unbuttoned your shirt. Harry watched you intensely, his dick twitching as he saw your breasts. No bra? Brave.

“You were such a good boy today” You said and began to pull down your skirt, leaving you just in lace panties. Harry nodded quickly. “You deserve a reward, you were polite, engaged” you said walking over to the side of the bed, placing a hand on harrys, red cock. He whimpered at your touch.

“I think you deserve my pussy”

Harrys eyes widened and he nodded quickly, bucking his hips up. You giggled and leaned to kiss the top of his cock, harry moaned and pushed his hips up more.

You shook your head, pulling away and taking off the last piece of clothing off. You were both naked and ready for each other. Harry looked you up and down biting his lip.

“What did i say? Words”

“Fuck. You’re so wet and beautiful” Harry said holding onto your hips as you began to get comfortable, both of your legs on either side of him. Harry placed his hands on your breasts as you got situated.

“Wet just for you” You said smirking at the way he reacted. More like his cock.

“Want you to be so loud for me, ok?” you asked placing your hands on his chest, kissing his neck. Harry nodded, breathing heavily as you kissed up and down his neck. You nipped at his collarbone leaving marks everywhere.

Your pussy was soaking wet, brushing up against harry’s cock. He was whimpering as you teased him. “Please, baby” harry moaned as you placed your hands on his stomach. You smirked, continuing to edge him.

“Please what, baby boy?”

“Please fuck me”

And you listened, placing his cock in your dripping pussy. Harry moaned loudly, listening to your command. Your hands moved up to his chest, as you began to move your hips. Harrys hands moved to your hips, as his own buck up making you whimper.

“Feel so good, baby. So good” Harry cried out, you moaned as his huge dick spread you out. you began to bounce down, faster and harder. Harry felt euphoric as he watched you move faster your hands coming up your hair, he felt his heart speed up and he began to lose his breath. He almost felt claustrophobic.

Harry is deep, deep inside of you and he just hit that place where you both feel incredibly good. You could feel him all the way up in your stomach he was that deep.

“You’re being so good for me” You said and harry nodded, his mouth forming an O shape. “Fuck” Harry said with furrowed brows, his cheeks red and forehead full of sweat. His curls stuck to his forehead, making him incredibly sexy.

“I’m gonna cum” He said and he started to feel that feeling his chest again.

Harry cleared his throat, and started to cough as he began to cum. You stopped moving placing a hand on his cheek, feeling how hot he was. Harry started to heave and pointed to the dresser.

“Fuck. Inhaler” You murmured, getting off of harry, probably making a mess while doing so. You opened up the top drawer and found the red inhaler pretty quickly, putting it to harry’s lip helping his sit up.

After he calmed down a little you giggled and shook your head.

“Didn’t know i was that good” You teased and harry closed his eyes leaning back into your hold. You knew he was tired and needed you right now. You let him lay down and rest.

While he was doing that you put your shirt and panties back on, and made your way to the bathroom. You grabbed a cloth and wet it a little.

Now this was a story you’d never let him forget. You walked over to the bed and cleaned harry up, then you quickly got him a drink of water.

“Can cuddle now?” He asked after he took a big gulp of water. You nodded a pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Can cuddle now”

[fill-me-with-your-memes-daddy]

Watching the Rise of the Titans movie and I'll be documenting all of my thoughts/reactions here. [Spoiler Warning]

So instead of reblogging every new update, I'm just going to have this post up on my phone as I watch and type my reactions in a bullet list format.

Nari's human disguise is so cute. As someone who does have a cottagecore aesthetic, I want to cosplay her so bad

Are Skrael and/or Belroc non-binary coded? Regardless, I'm also obsessed and I want to fuck Skrael and be Belroc.

STEVE CARING ABOUT JIM BEING HURT YESSSS!!! My god his redemption has probably been one of the greatest there is because he doesn't just suddenly go from being a bully to a completely good person. You can see the gradual shift in learning better throughout the shows which is awesome.

IN NEW YOOOOOOORRRRRRRK!!!!!! CONCRETE JUNGLE WHERE DREAMS ARE MADE OFFFFFFFFFFFFF!!!!!

The mugshot montage reminded me of season 1 of trollhunters when toby and Jim were arrested at the museum.

STRICKLER PUT A RING ON IT??? HE'S THE ONLY DILF IVE EVER ACTUALLY AGREED WAS HOT WYM I CAN'T HAVE HIM??? well I'm still really happy about his arc over the series probably one of my favorite character growths.

Eli my guy got his growth spurt!!! As an 18 year old who is still 5'0", I'm happy but envious for him

So I went into this movie without watching any trailers or promo, but I doubt anything could have prepared me for the existence of mpreg. In fact, I wasn't going to document my reactions until I saw that.

NAMURA!!!!!!!!! MY BELOVED!!!!!! I CAN STILL THIRST FOR YOU WITHOUT GUILT

The coach teacher just called the kids zoomers so I have to dock one point from my final rating just because of that. Unforgivable

Those husky animation models suck lmao

Oh fuck the titans got power ranger zords!!

God why did they include the mpreg??? This movie would have been perfect without it.... After that plot point being revisited only one time I'm already beyond done with it

Like it's bringing me back to the v*ltron days where they're was a suspiciously high amount of klance omegaverse and mpreg fics and art created and it physically hurts because Steve and Keith's voice actor is the same person meaning this is especially cursed to me since I was unfortunately in the v*ltron fandom and remember all of that

But like on another note, how old are these characters again??? I haven't checked any wikis because of spoilers but is Steve an adult??? I know aja might be technically a lot older than 18 because alien but is whatever age she is equivalent to an adult as far as emotionally and physically in Akaridion development??? IS THIS A TEEN (M)PREGNANCY IN A KIDS SHOW????

Like bruh I saw a singular post on here before going into the movie that was like "rott spoilers without context" and there was a pregnant belly but I was absolutely not expecting the actual context of it. I'll find the post after I finish and edit this post to tag the creator right here: @makoden

This entire post is just gonna be me ranting about mpreg huh

Anyway I love the whole roundtable allusion to the legends of king arthur (not the toa version but the one he's based off)

THERE'S 3 TO 5 BABIES????? I need to take a break bruh this is just too much

Alright I've taken a 30 minute break got some food and did some things i love (decompressed by tactile stimming with some owl plushies and watched some videos on my favorite owl, Garu. He lives in Japan with his owner and is a domesticated eagle owl who basically just acts like a sky cat. If anyone else needs some eye bleach, here is their YouTube channel)

Blinky and ARRRGHHH!!! saying their "if one of us doesn't make it" talk my god one of them is going to die I can see it and I will be utterly crushed. Jim can't lose another father figure and Toby can't lose his wingman again I will riot if this happens

On a similar but unrelated to the movie note, can we just talk about how toa started with Jim having 0 dads and (if strickler and blinky live to the end) will end with 2 dads? Like I just really feel happy for him that he has two dads who actually figured out how to put the past behind them to not have any infighting between them so that both of them are healthy father figures. Jim has already been through literal hell and back losing his actual humanity in the process so if he loses one of them, I'm going to be really pissed because at this point, this is just Jim torture porn. Y'all know how as SpongeBob SquarePants went on, the show just became Squidward torture porn? It's starting to feel that way for toa and I really hope they cut the shit by the ending

Jlaire is such a good ship but like I feel like it's too perfect they never disagree with each other

YESSSSSSS Someone finally doesn't treat toby like a fat waste of space who messes stuff up!!! I think out of all the characters that would have been most deserving of a rewrite, it's Toby. Sometimes I just feel he's only comic relief and any heartfelt moments he's had in the series was also born of stupidity (ie his flour baby project being unharmed was seen by him as divine intervention from his parents but was actually just Eli and Steve behind the scenes).

Ohhhhh yesssssss Archie's father!!! I was hoping I'd see him again because we got so little of him last

Ooooooooooh Asian trollmarket!!!!!

Oh never mind slavery trollmarket

Bruh titanic camelot

I feel like we're not seeing enough of the villains because I completely forgot about the power ranger zord things

NAMORA NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO MY LAST CRUSHHHH

STRICKLER NO NOT YOU TOO PLEASE

WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THE ONLY TWO CHARACTERS I SIMP FOR ON THIS SHOW DIED WITHIN FIVE MINUTES OF EACH OTHER

THAT WHOLE ASS RANT I WROTE IS COMING TRUE FUCK THIS MOVIE THIS SERIES IS JUST JIM TORTURE PORN

WAIT JIM'S SPERM DONOR INFO?

Oh thank God I don't want to know anything about that person

For the record, I call that man Jim's sperm donor because he has no business being called a father to him. All he did was donate some swimmers to the creation of him and give him abandonment issues

Oh another blind troll elder???? This fucker is just if vendel was a bad guy

Bruh I was grieving

PACIFIC RIM WITH GUN ROBOT VEX AND THE BELROCZORD? I've never seen that movie but I know the reference

Bruh Blinky doesn't read horoscopes? Does he realize conspiracy theories are just the manly version of horoscopes?

NO DON'T KILL VEX STOP KO-ING FOUND FAMILY MEMBERS

Oh thank God he's okay

NO NOT ARCHIE AND CHARLEMAGNE OH MY GOD

oh never mind they're just gonna coup de tat I believe in them :))

But I want to see him again

But I'm glad to see vex

Yay they're in arcadia!

But yeah I wondered why the trolls and Merlin didn't keep the whole "daylight doesn't hurt trolls" feature from the eternal night but now Guillermo del Toro I see you were playing the long con in that just to kill my girl Namora :(((

Oooooh I love the animation of the Narizord over Chihuahua!! It looks very good and realistic (if only they could have put some of that into those huskies from before smh)

Bruh the character designs of the arcane order are so good I want to be them

Nari making sure the Skraelzord doesn't crush the bus

DAMN DOUBLE HOMICIDE

Bruh I'm just glad we finally have an answer on why arcadia had everything going on as opposed to literally anywhere else!! I always found that as a weird coincidence for plot convince.

BRUH WERE BACK TO THE MPREG IM SO JEALOUS I FORGOT ABOUT THAT EVEN THOUGH IT WAS BECAUSE I WAS GRIEVING THE LOSS OF MY LOVELIES.

Oh that's real convenient that the ninth configuration meant all of them. Way to not decide which character gets more attention. Though it probably was a smart way to not have any infighting in the fandom between each character's stan group.

Bruh I just realized where is Barbera did they just ditch her on the Camelot ship???

And where are the other trolls that migrated at the end of trollhunters s3? They said something about new jersey but obviously Jim and the other main characters got on Camelot instead.... This feels like a plot hole

And we never learned the process of how changelings are made and bonded to humans and stuff. We just know it's super painful but I'm curious ffs!!!!

THE DONT THINK BECOME HERO SPEECH ALL SAID TOGETHER!!!

BRUH THEY REALLY HAD TO SHOW HIM GIVING BIRTH??????? WAS THAT AN ABSOLUTE MUST??????

Plus the main audience for this series is little children (the rating for the movie is literally TV-Y7) so even though my adult ass is not in the target audience, I STILL DONT UNDERSTAND WHY WOULD MPREG AND ANAL BIRTH WOULD BE AN IMPORTANT THING TO 7 YEAR OLDS???? THIS IS A LITERAL FETISH HIDDEN IN KIDS CONTENT ITS ELSAGATE ALL OVER AGAIN Y'ALL 😭😭😭😭😭

Though it's probably hypocritical of me to think fetishes don't belong in kids tv when I've openly admitted to thirsting for strickler and namora

HUZZAH

NEW AMULET WAZ GOOD????

STAB THAT BITCH JIM

WAIT NO I SAID STAB NOT GET STABBED

Alright good job just missed the directions at first but you fixed it

SEVEN KIDS?????????

T O B Y ????????????

W A I T NO

N O

IS HE ACTUALLY

OH MY GOD THERE'S HOPE

NO THERE ISN'T

F U C K THIS SHIT THEY REALLY JUST HAD HIM TO BE BULLIED THEN KILLED

Y'ALL IM ACTUALLY CRYING THIS NEVER HAPPENS

I NEVER ACTUALLY GET SO EMOTIONAL OVER MEDIA THAT I CRY IT ONLY HAPPENED ONCE AT THE END OF VOLTRON BUT AHHHHHHHH

W A I T

HE'S GONNA BE BROUGHT BACK?????

HOLD UP THEY'RE JUST GONNA BRING ALL THOSE DEAD PEOPLE BACK??????

WAIT IS HE

BLINKY CALLED HIM A SON

HOLD ON IS THIS GOING TO BE A CLIFFHANGER???????????

BRUH THEY REALLY JUST CAN'T END THE SERIES WITHOUT CLIFFHANGERS like there's always an open ending

TROLLHUNTER TOBY????? You know what forget the whole rants I had on how toby was written they just redeemed it all

And that's all! I'd rate it a 6.5/10 because it's definitely the weakest of all the sequels but still had amazing animation and some good plot points. It's just really hard to look over the bad stuff enough to rate it any higher.

[the-bau-quinjet]

Memories, Pt. II

Summary: You were captured by Hydra. What did they do to your memories?

Warnings: mentions of violence, panic attacks

Word Count: 1982

a/n: Ahh, part 2! I hope you like it :)

I know it's only been a day since part I, but this really felt like it took forever to write. I'm pretty happy with how it turned out though. Again, sorry if it's confusing! Hopefully you understand the concept I'm going for.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

4 Years Ago

"Y/N!" Steve called out to you from down the hall, a man with dark hair walking beside him. "I'm glad I caught you. Buck came back from a mission last night, and he's the only one left for you to meet."

You eyes lit up at the mention of Bucky. You'd always admired him for the steps he took to recover from his time at Hydra.

"Hi, I'm Y/N." You smiled, trying not to sound too eager. "It's an honor to meet you Sergeant Barnes."

"An honor?" His eyes sparkled with disbelief. "And please, just Bucky."

You nodded at his request before explaining. "An honor, truly. Sorry to be blunt, but you've been through hell and are still out there helping people every chance you get. You're a hero." You whispered that last line conspiratorially, knowing he would get flustered from your brief conversations with Sam Wilson.

"Did Wilson put you up to this?" He questioned, a tell tale flush blooming on his cheeks.

"Just the hero bit." You chuckled when he rolled his eyes. "Everything else came from me." You waited a beat before continuing. "It's true though. You are a hero." You winked before saying goodbye and continuing with your night.

Steve stared at his best friend as he watched you walk away, knowing exactly what that small smile meant. "You like her!" He accused, although lightheartedly.

"Shut up, punk. I just met her." Bucky tried to stop smiling, but your lingering first impression left him feeling giddy.

"Doesn't matter. It's true." Steve easily dodged Bucky's fist. "You don't have to admit it, but I know."

The two men continued down the hall, Steve teasing Bucky when he was still smiling 10 minutes later.

-

Present

You must've fallen asleep eventually, because next thing you know you are waking up to a room full of people. It takes a minute for you to recognize all of them, but you know the names and reputations well enough to figure it out.

Bucky has his head resting on the edge of your bed, your hand still encased in his. You involuntarily squeeze his hand, as if your muscles have a mind of their own, to gain his attention.

It's comical how quickly his head flies up, gaining the attention of the multitude of superheros in the room.

"You're awake!" Wanda shrieks, beyond relieved to see you home.

"What happened?" Sam adds on, concerned for what you went through.

"Are you okay?" Nat questions as well.

Your eyes flicker between them, unsure how to respond to any of them. Luckily for you, Bucky clears his throat to capture your attention.

"How are you feeling?" Your body instantly relaxes at the softness of his voice, as if remembering things you don't.

It's weird, lying in a room full of people who believe something you know not to be true.

"I, um, physically I feel fine." His eyes on you pull the truth out. "I, um, I'm still kind of confused about what's going on though."

He presses a kiss to your palm, again easing the tension from your body.

"You don't remember anything?" Nat's first to speak up, her typical skepticism peaking through.

"Not about the mission. I mean, I was kept in that room the entire time I was there." Three years flashes in your mind. Why do they think it was only three months? None of this makes sense. "I know all of you though." You're careful not to lie, knowing she would likely spot it.

Their faces relax as they take in your statement, causing a jolt of anxiety and stress to run through you.

Hydra may have convinced you that 38 people died at your hands, but your own personal morals haven't changed. You've accepted "the incident" as they put it was your fault, but that doesn't mean you're a cold blooded killer. They didn't have enough time to change you that much.

Steve, although upset with the lack of information, understands the position you're in. It's easy to see he's still worried about what happened to you while you were "captured".

"Why don't you go up to your room and decompress. The memories could still come back to you."

You can't help but smile at the kindness being shown to you. You give him another small smile while nodding, trying to figure out a way to get someone to take you to "your room" because you have no idea where it is.

"C'mon, I'll help you." Bucky wraps an arm around your waist as you stand, and although it's the first time you've experienced it, it feels completely natural to be in his embrace.

Everyone calls out statements of encouragement and well wishes as the two of you walk out of the med bay. You do your best to not marvel at everything you pass, simply trying to remember the layout of the building.

A few turns later, you've arrived at an elevator where Bucky presses the button for your floor. When the doors open again, he guides you through a hallway to what you presume is your room.

"Thank you, for helping me." You turn to him before stepping into your room.

"I would do anything for you." He whispers back, hand still rubbing your hip. When he leans in to kiss you, you panic.

"Um, I'm going to take a shower. Maybe feeling clean will help with all of this." You vaguely gesture to the air, unsure how to put everything into words.

"Oh, uh, sure. We can talk later?" He hides his confusion at your behavior, understanding how weird it can be to readjust.

You nod before closing the door, leaving him slightly stunned in the hallway. A few steps into your room, and a friendly Irish voice is calling out to you.

"Welcome home, Ms. L/N. Would you like to hear your messages?"

Your heart rate spikes as you rapidly look around the room, trying to spot the intruder.

"Who, who said that?" You continue spinning, trying to spot the voice.

"My name is Friday. I am an AI built into the compound." Your breathing settles as you begin to comprehend the information. Nobody is in your room. You're alone.

"Oh. Okay." You continue taking deep breaths, trying to prevent the panic from settling in now that you're alone.

"Would you like to hear your messages?" The AI asks, again catching you off guard.

"What messages?" You can't deny that you're intrigued by the concept of someone leaving you messages here. "What the hell happened? What is going on?" You mutter to yourself.

"You left for a mission 3 months ago. Communication was cut off 2 days after your departure. All resources were diverted to finding your location and bringing you home." Friday announced, as if it was common knowledge. You would suppose it should be if it was true.

"3 months ago? I was there for 3 years. I've never been here before! Why do they all think I'm an Avenger? None of this makes any sense." Your head is spinning, and all you want is to wash the last 3 years of dirt and grime from your skin.

As you step into the shower, Friday continues to answer your questions, ultimately giving you the version of events that the Avengers all seem to believe.

You joined the team four years ago. Tony and Steve brought you back to the compound after you fought alongside them. Your mutation gives you enhanced senses, allowing you to predict the enemies moves. Despite your lack of true training, the two men were impressed by your skills and dedication.

After getting dressed, you finally bit the bullet and asked to hear the messages. Instantly, Bucky's shaky voice filled your ears.

"Y/N, we lost contact with you yesterday. I just, I needed to feel like I was talking to you." A shaky breath could be heard before he continued. "You promised me you'd come back. I, I can't lose you, doll. Stay strong. We're going to find you."

The next message began immediately. "It's been a week now without you. Steve says we're getting closer, but I know he's just trying to calm me down. I will find you, Y/N. That's my promise."

Tears began pouring down your face as you listened to his voice, sounding battered and broken due to your absence.

"Steve keeps telling me to rest. He says I won't be any help if I'm burnt out. But, I- I can't sleep knowing you're there. Not knowing what they're doing to you. I can't sleep because all I see is you, and it hurts. Doll, it hurts so much. I'm going to find you. I will because I can't lose you. Not like this. Not to them."

The messages continues playing, doing nothing but encouraging your tears.

"Two months. I'm so sorry, doll. It's been two months and we're not any closer. I hope you know we're trying. I'm trying. I won't rest until I have you back in my arms. I love you."

Your breath caught in your throat at those three words, he loves you? How? How can he love you if you didn't even meet until yesterday?

"We figured it out. We've got a location. I'm coming baby. I'm coming."

The last message ended with a beep, but you barely heard it. Your breathing was erratic, your heart rate skyrocketing as the anxiety took over your body.

He couldn't possibly love you. Not when he doesn't know the things you did. The people you killed.

"Enacting protocol 7, paging Mr. Barnes." The AI's voice went unheard by you, muffled by your choked sobs.

Not 30 seconds later, Bucky was rushing into your room.

"Y/N!" He ran to you, pulling you into his arms in a tight embrace. He whispered soothing words into your hair, slightly rocking you back and forth.

Somehow, he knew exactly how to calm you down. His warm breath on your neck, strong arms around your body, and the soothing rocking motion all worked wonders for you.

"It's okay. You're okay. You're home now. I've got you. You're safe."

His words brought fresh tears to your eyes, although your breathing calmed and anxiety lessened after a while.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He whispered a few minutes after your body stopped shaking.

"I, I'm just so scared." You didn't know what to say. You wanted to come clean. To explain who you really were, but the fantasy described to you by the AI sounded like a much better life.

A life you wanted to believe in, but felt like you didn't deserve.

"Scared of what, doll? You can talk to me." He whispered, still rocking you back and forth, rubbing your back with his flesh hand.

Of me. You wanted to come clean, but it was terrifying. You couldn't go back to that prison.

"Of... Was I really only there for three months?" Your voice was shaky, confusion laced with fear.

Bucky's guilt at not finding you sooner multiplied tenfold as he took in your expression. You looked so innocent and afraid, his heart broke just thinking about what Hydra did to you.

"Doll, I'm so sorry I couldn't come for you sooner. I know three months must've felt a lot longer... I promise, I'll do everything I can to help you get through this. You're not alone." He held you closer, tucking your head close to his heart in a show of protectiveness.

"Can you just, stay with me tonight?" Your words were barely a whisper, afraid to test the strength of the delusion you found yourself in.

"Of course." His words were firm, but soothing to your ears. "I love you." You squeezed him tighter, resting your body against his as the two of you laid in bed.

permanent taglist:

@averyhotchner @jesuswasnotawhiteman

[pedrosbisch]

My Sun and Stars

Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia x Reader w/ nickname

Chapter 1- Call Signs

Chapter 2

Summary:You go out on a Friday night with your buddies, and meet Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia for the first time Rated M for Mature themes, but would prefer the fic stayed 18+ since it gets a little spicy later 👌

AN: Hello everyone! This is my very first fanfic I’m posting, and I hope it’s up to par 😅 I’ve been delaying posting it for so long but I’m so excited to finally get this posted and starting this journey.

TW! Alcohol, Slight Violence. Please let me know if I need to add anything else!

It was just another Friday at the bar after a dull day at work. Your friend Will invited you out for drinks with him and a couple of his buddies to celebrate a friend coming home.

“Where is this guy anyway, aren’t we supposed to be celebrating him?” You ask, frustrated by the fact the person they were celebrating was nearly an hour late.

“Pope’s always late, he runs on his own time. But he’ll be here.” Will took another sip of his beer before glancing toward the door.

“He better be, I can’t stay late. I have to go back home to Maria, I promised her I’d help with the baby after I got back tonight.” Retorted Frankie.

“Speak of the devil.”

Up walked a man with curly hair and sun kissed skin. He's undoubtedly handsome, smiling before he claps a hand on Frankie’s shoulder.

“What’s up cabróns? Sorry I’m late, there was traffic coming from the airport and then there was this girl out in the parking lot who had this ass that-“

“Ah-hem.” You clear your throat, hoping to cut off whatever vulgar story he was about to tell.

“Pope this is Hail. We met through the VA, thought I’d invite her out with us.”

“Hail? Cute, what’s that short for, Hailey?” He pours himself a mug of beer, barely looking your way.

“Hail Mary.”

“That’s a hell of a name. Parents were religious huh?”

Benny snickers and Frankie leans back, preparing for the shitshow to unfold.

“Call sign. Hail Mary, as in the prayer most people say before they’re about to die; A last ditch effort. For a man whose nickname is Pope, seems like you’d know better”

“Oh baby, people call me Pope because I bring them closer to god, whether it’s out in the field or in bed.” He side eyes Benny and they fist bump behind your head.

“Classy.” You roll your eyes and look over to Will who pinches the bridge of his nose and mouths 'sorry' over to you.

“Anyways- glad to have you back safe man, but I really gotta go. Wife’s gonna kill me if I don’t help with the baby like I promised.” Frankie fixes his hat and slaps Pope on the back before walking out.

“Yeah man me too, I’ve got my fight tomorrow and I already got too drunk waiting for you. You gotta come though!” Benny says as he wobbles standing up.

Will quickly stands after and steadies him propping him up on his shoulder. “I better drive Benny home, what about you Hail? You need a ride?”

“I’m alright, I’ll probably stay a little longer. I need to decompress from work.”

“Whatever works for you darlin, text me to let me know when you get home safe.” He says goodbye and shakes Pope’s hand before walking away with his brother.

“And yous better be coming to my match tomorrow!! I need my Hail Mary!!” Benny yelled with his head flopping back and forth.

“I’ll be there Benny.” You punch his ass and send them off, leaving you entirely alone with the menace of a man you’ve just met.

“So uh— you and the Miller brothers seem close.” Pope eyes you up and down, clearly trying to figure out what he’s missed while he was god knows where.

“Sure. Like Will said, we met through the VA. We’ve been pretty close since then.”

“I take it you’re a vet then, with your call sign and all?”

Was he actually trying to get to know you? “No, my dad served. 20 years in the Marine Corps, I just drive him to the meetings. He tried dragging me in one day to set me up with Will.”

“So you two are together then?” He looked up quizzically.

“Ha! If he’s interested he sure doesn’t show it. Plus I don’t think he’s really my type.”

“What is your type then?” Pope raises an eyebrow and a wide grin spreads across his face.

“Definitely not a man some of whose first words around me were ‘there was a girl who had this ass’”

“So you don’t like me because I appreciate the female form?”

“Ha! I don’t like you because you make assumptions. Like how you just assumed that you could get me to go home with you.”

“I’m offended you think so lowly of me Princesa, and how are you so sure I want to you to sleep with me?”

“Don’t call me Princesa, and because if you didn’t want to— you’d be off chasing that girl with the ass down. But you’re here, talking to me about if I’m taken and what my type is. Now if you excuse me, I’m going home.” You gulp down the rest of your beer before grabbing your purse and speed walking to the door.

Pope rushes through the crowds and grabs your arm before you raise it to hail a taxi. You break from his grasp and slam your palm into his chest before realizing it was him.

“Agh! So you’re not all bark after all.” He rubs his shoulder and winces. “Listen, I truly am sorry for this bad first impression. But I don’t think Will would be happy with me if I didn’t at least offer you a ride home in your inebriated state.”

You roll you eyes before you look in your purse and realize all your cash went toward tipping the bartender; You sigh and toss your head back in defeat. “Fine. But you’re not coming in for a nightcap.”

He leads you to his Jeep and you buckle yourself in as he pulls out of the bar parking. You punch your address into his GPS and lean your head against the cool window as the music plays softly. The alcohol hits you all at once like a tidal wave, and your head starts to spin.

You’re thankful the ride home is quiet, and even more so when the car comes to a stop. The car door opens letting the fresh night air hits your face waking you slightly.

“Can I at least walk you to your door?” Says Pope, but this time his tone is different. It’s not assertive or defensive, almost like he cares you get home safe. And he has this look on his face, what is that look? You’re too drunk to tell.

"That would be great, actually." He walks beside you, careful not to touch you unless you expressly needed help. You were doing better than expected, swaying slightly and bumping arms as you walked side by side. You were about to send Pope off, all up until you came to foot of the stairwell.

“Shit. You can go, really I’ll be fine. You’ll be here all night watching me climb these stupid things. Without an ounce of of dignity, I may add.”

He chuckled as you planted your palms on the stairs and began to crawl up them like an overgrown toddler.

“I have all night to help you up the stairs Hail, but I’ll have to touch you. If that’s ok?”

Why did those words send fire through your cheeks? ‘But I’ll have to touch you.’ You quietly nod your head in defeat and feel two strong arms lift you from under your knees and behind your back. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck and press your head to his chest. The world is spinning and you’re doing anything to anchor yourself, even if it’s to him.

You turn your head and shut your eyes, taking deep even breaths into his chest doing everything in your power to calm yourself. ‘Focus’, you tell yourself. Focus on literally anything but the spinning. You take another deep breath, but this time you take a second to appreciate the scent of Pope’s cologne. It smells expensive, but sooo nice. You hear his heart beating, or—wait. Is it yours? Your mind continues to wander further as footsteps echo off the stairwell. His arms feel so nice, maybe you could invite him… No, you decide. You won’t just be another drunken conquest.

You reach the second floor of your apartment complex and tell him your door number. He steadily places you down, and keeps a steady hand on your back as you dig out your keys. You open the door and catch yourself on the frame turning yourself to face Pope.

“Thank you for taking me home, and for carrying me up the stairs. This is so embarrassing, I swear this never happens.”

“Shh, it’s alright Princesa. Drink some water and get some rest, I’ll see you tomorrow at Benny’s match. I’ll bring my best manners, and hopefully we can forget about today.” He gets you a glass of water and places it next to your couch where you ungracefully plopped yourself down.

“Mmhh. Pope?” You reach, as if trying to reach him without knowing where his is.

“Santiago. My real name is Santiago, but you can call me Santi if you want.”

Your brain is far gone, blacked out in a half asleep state with no filter attached to your mouth. “Well then Santiago, thank you again for bringing me home. Sorry it wasn’t in the context you wanted. Next time if you want it to go more smoothly, ask me to dinner. You smell too good to say no.”

He chuckles and looks at you with a soft expression before locking your door behind him as he makes his way back to his car. For the rest of the night, he replays the way you said his name in his head and makes a mental note to wear the same cologne again tomorrow night.

[captaincravatthecapricious]

Things You Said When You Were Scared- Prompt Fill

Bit of an au after the worm attack. Jon is having a rough time.

CWs injury (canon typical worm related), paranoia, exhaustion. nausea, vomiting (it's not gross, I promise), pain, dizziness, fainting, medication mention, canon typical quarantine mention, food mention.

@janekfan @sukurarose92

Jon can’t remember the last time he felt this terrible.  There probably had been other times.  A few terrible flus over the years, and getting almost eaten by a spider once upon a time…. but time has a tendency to dull the particularly bad stuff, aside from say, flashbacks and nightmares.  But it’s the brain protecting itself.  You don’t remember the pain.  You don’t remember the fear.  You remember the memory of the pain, wrapped in spun-sugar-strands of time, growing dusty on a shelf.  You remember the taste of fear, the gripping anxiety of it.  You remember surges of it in the depths of the night and you panic… but you can’t remember it all the time.  That just isn’t how the brain works.  

Which is irrelevant.  All irrelevant, because the pain medication he’s been given is wearing off.  He thinks Sasha and Tim went off to do something….?  Probably panic together about the fresh worm trauma.  Martin?  Jon hasn’t the foggiest clue.  

Possibly because he’s hazy with pain and the last of the drugs that have been keeping him going this long.  Staggering into the walls as he tries to exit the institute.  Eyes closing involuntarily against the pain and the exhaustion.  Limbs feeling so alien between the bandages and the aching, weeping holes they hide beneath them.  Pounding dizziness down to his core.  

He aches.  

Phantom itching-crawling-squirming on his skin, through his muscles, down to the bone.  The actual holes chewed into him.  

He isn’t sure how he’s going to get to his flat.  He can’t stay in the Archives, not with the police in the tunnels and the ECDC still doing whatever it is they are doing.  But the thought of taking a cab or the tube make him want to tear his remaining skin off.  Makes him want to just lie down on the sidewalk.  

He even thinks making it to the front doors will end him.  

He’s dizzy and sick and his limbs won’t carry him.  

He has to sit down on the first step outside the door, sticking his head between his knees.  He can’t do this.  He can’t.  He’s just going to sit here all night, or risk passing out or throwing up or risking any other horror of the late twilight consuming him before he can collapse into unconsciousness in the comfort of his own bed.  

He waits for the world to stop spinning, and tries not to cry.  

Because he can’t have more pain medication until he eats something.  He can’t eat anything because it won’t stay in him, and even if it would, he can’t go anywhere.  He’s stuck.  Less than a five minute walk from his office where Gertrude DIED, from where he was attacked where he thought he’d be Safe, where he thought Martin would be safe.  A few paces from where the dead worms were pulled out of him and he was scoured raw and sterile in a hastily assembled quarantine on the sidewalk.  

He tries not to spiral into a panic attack right here.  

Trying to pull his breathing under control, because it isn’t helping his tenuous grasp on the directions of up and down.  

Where is the next danger going to come from?  

Is this when Mr. Spider will strike?  Letting him go until he’s weak and exposed and alone?  

Or is this where some unknown (or known) hostile comes in with a grand betrayal and a gun.  Leaving him to be another mystery, or a willfully ignored casualty of something he can’t begin to understand?  

“Jon?”  

Jon jumps.  And very, very much regrets it.  Heart racing, head spinning, a fresh hurt.  A fresh reminder of every opening in his flesh that doesn’t belong there.  “Ma… Martin?”  He asks around gasping and shuddering breaths.  “What …are you doing here?”  

His voice is a little distant, a little hallow.  “Don’t really have anywhere to do, do I?  You packed up my flat.  All in boxes at some storage unit.  Now, my bedroom is tangentially part of a crime scene.”

“…Right.”  It’s all his fault.  

He needs to sleep.  He needs some painkillers.  He might need to throw up, but that is an issue he plans to avoid, if at all possible.  Ditto to fainting.  Although that seems a little more inevitable.  

Martin makes no move to continue speaking.  “So… your plan was to just camp out on this bench?”  

Martin shrugs.  “Dunno.  Figured I might call Tim?  At some point?  Or try to sneak back into the Archives once the police leave?  Can’t really afford a hotel.   Maybe just sleep on this bench.  Try to decompress or something.  Jon.   Why are you still here?   Said you’d go home hours ago.”

Well he can’t exactly tell Martin he’d passed out in the break room for some indeterminate measure of time, then spent another eternity getting sick in the toilets.  And then possibly passed out again.  That’s not just something you tell Martin and expect him not to fuss over you.   And Jon tries to tell himself that that would be suffocating and not kind of welcome right now.   He tells himself that the thought of spending more time with Martin brings discomfort, and irritation, and fear.  It’s not like he can prove that Martin won’t kill him.  But he’s too tired to think about that.  He just wants to sleep.  

“....Um?”

Martin looks at him, probably for the first time.  “Jesus, Jon.  You look terrible.”

Jon hmmms in agreement.  Not like he can argue.  Martin’s too nice to comment on the bandages.  A little too tactful.  Right?  Martin’s bumbling and stupid, but he’s tactful.  He’s Nice.  As irritating as he can be, he’s just so Nice.  

But, it’s not like he can argue.  He’s covered in bandages and a clammy sweat and he’s halfway into a panic attack and he can’t really walk and he just wants to lay down right here until the world stops moving.  Both in the sense that he’s dizzy and in the sense that things beyond his comprehension are happening at a pace he can’t begin to catch up with.  

“Can I... call you a cab?   Or... or something?”   

Jon shakes his head as much as he dares, which isn’t much.  No cabs.  He gets carsick.  He doesn’t stand a chance.  

“Well you can’t just sit there all night.”  

“Right, like you plan to?”  

Martin looks away.  

And Jon goes back to trying not to pass out.  

“Tim lives close by, doesn’t he, I walk you there?  Or… um… carry you?”  Martin’s trying to be tactful.  Jon is pretty sure that is supposed to be a pointed look at his legs.  

Jon scowls.  (Not that Martin is wrong.  There is something very wrong with his knee.)  

“Can’t just …intrude like that.  I’m sure he doesn’t want me around.  Not professional…”

“Jon, you saw him in his pants today.  You were put in quarantine together.  I think you’re past all normal working relationship boundaries, even if he wasn’t your friend.  I can’t just leave you here, and you clearly aren’t planning to get yourself home.  Besides… maybe if he takes you in… maybe he’ll take me in, too.”  

Jon stares down at the sidewalk, drifting in lazy, nauseous, out of focus movements before his eyes.  “He doesn’t want me around.  Not after taking Sasha’s job.  Not after making him stay to get his statement.”  Jon whispers at the pavement.  

“Yeah like he’s still jealous for Sash, after that creepy worm lady went specifically for the “Archivist.”  Whatever the fuck that means.  And you know Tim was only pissed because he was in pain and tired, like you are now!”  

“I should just go home…”  

“Yeah, but you won’t.”  

Christ Martin’s stubborn.  

“Now.  Can you walk, or do I need to cary you?”  

Jon tries pull himself up to prove a point, but he comes to in Martin’s arms a few moments later, Martin loudly cursing at him.  He’s in too much pain to really hear what Martin is trying to say to him.  And he’s feeling even more sick.  And he wonders where his prescriptions and paramedic provided cane have gotten to, but he really doesn’t really care, because Martin is solid and warm and he’s so tired.  

He wakes up again on Tim’s couch.  Sick to his stomach from the oppressive oder of takeout.  

“Woah, boss.  Not on the couch.  I’ve got you.”

Throwing up nothing into the bin that’s been hastily shoved in front of him even though he’s got nothing in him anymore.  He sobs around dry heaves until it’s just the silence juddering sobs.  He Hurts.  

He wants to hide.  From Martin who is making tea, from Sasha running a bandaged hand through his hair.  From Tim supporting the bin, and Jon himself.  

He curls in on himself.  Wills himself into unconsciousness, but the injuries pulse with each uneven breath, stomach still roiling painfully.  He needs more medicine, but he can’t think about hoping to keep it down.  

He sobs against Tim, as the bin is pried away.  

“‘Hurts.  Tim ‘m scared.”  

Scooped up.  Held, gently.  

“Why didn’t you head home?  Why not go right away so you could get toast and water into you, and sleep until you could take some more meds?”  Tim holding him.  Martin awkwardly sat by his side with ginger tea.  Which Jon doesn’t care for, but Tim hasn’t kept mint tea since Jon stopped visiting.  Still… it should help.  Sasha clearing away the food smells, bless her.  “Why did you have to take our statements?  I would have invited you back here, if you didn’t?”

That last question doesn’t help.  

He doesn’t know he’s tearing at the bandages until Tim’s tugging his hands away, and Martin is bemoaning the splotches of blood now decorating the bandages that are quickly becoming sweaty and grimy.  Couldn’t even stay clean after he was scrubbed sterile.  Martin and Sasha and Tim are spotless and scoured.  

“I… I don’t want to disappear.  I… do-don’t want to be found in the tunnels.  I don’t want to vanish without a trace, I…“  He doesn’t even know.  He can’t breathe.  He’s lightheaded.  He Hurts.  

“Hey… hey hey.  It’s.. it’s okay to be scared.  Why don’t we get you cleaned up, okay?  Then see if we can get some saltines and tea into you so you can get some meds, eh?  Then we’re gonna all get some sleep.”  

“I don’t want to lose you…”  Jon’s voice swallowed by Tim scooping him up.  Martin hovering with the bin and Jon’s bag of medical supplies.  

Sasha’s back by then, brushing back Jon’s curls.  “And you won’t.  Sooner you leave, the sooner we can all get some sleep, alright?”  

Jon closes his eyes, and nods, letting Tim carry him to the washroom.  

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

By My Side (Part 2)

Summary: Jensen and the reader grow more tense with each other at the cabin but a revelation leads to a change in more than just location...

Masterlist

Pairing: Bodyguard!Jensen x reader

Word Count: 4,300ish

Warnings: language, mention of underage drinking/accidental death, angst

A/N: Enjoy!

_________

Twenty Hours Later

“Welcome home,” said Jensen, climbing out of his SUV the same time as you. You raised an eyebrow as you looked at the cabin in front of you. “You gonna carry your shit or what? Bodyguard, not your butler.”

“When you said cabin, I thought-”

“I told you. We’re off the grid. Most off the grid people don’t have quartz countertops and crown molding in their homes,” he said. “This is as good as I could get last second.”

“As long as it’s clean,” you said. He laughed and you stared back at him. “What?”

“Okay princess. There ain’t no cleaning service out here. You want something cleaned in there, you do it yourself,” he said. He slung a duffel bag over his shoulder and tossed one at you, nearly knocking you to the ground. “I’ll even let you pick which room you want.”

“Might take the kidnapping at this point,” you said, sighing as you followed him across the dirt yard. “We drove back in here for like an hour.”

“Hour and a half actually. Nobody’s finding us,” he said. He grabbed a key from under the rock by the door and undid the lock, swinging the door open wide. “Home sweet home.”

You followed him inside and cocked your head.

“Okay, this place is a lot nicer than I was expecting.”

“I guess I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said, tossing a bag back towards a hall. You set your bag down on the kitchen table, narrowing your eyes at a picture on the wall. There was a little boy with a fishing pole and a pair of familiar green eyes staring back. 

“Is this your cabin?” you asked, nodding to the photo.

“It’s in the family. Dad let me have it when I got out of the service,” he said. “I needed some alone time to decompress a bit. It’s safe. Trust me.”

“You were a cute kid. Too bad you’re sort of an asshole now,” you said.

“You were an asshole first,” he said with a shrug.

“I’m not a fan of some stranger coming into my life and telling me how to live it,” you said.

“I’m not telling you how to live your life, Y/N. That’s not my job. Keeping you safe is,” he said. “There’s two bedrooms. We have to share a bathroom.”

“Alright,” you said, Jensen pushing open a few solid wood doors. One was furnished a bit plainly and had a queen size bed, the other a set of bunkbeds and a full bed shoved against the wall. 

“Take it,” he said, nodding towards the larger room.

“You’re bigger than me,” you said.

“Yeah, well that’s true but you’re also paying me. Take the bigger bed. The couch is a pullout anyways. Go on,” he said. You sighed and set your bag down on the bench, Jensen tossing his bag in the other room. “I need to go into town and finish getting supplies. Before I do that, we need to go over a few ground rules.”

“Of course we do,” you said, plopping back on the bed and watching a cloud of dust appear in the air.

“There’s a first aid kit in the cabinet over the fridge. There’s an emergency satellite phone there also that is to only be used in a real emergency. Washer and dryer we use once a week. There’s a solar panel on the back of the cabin that’ll help save us gas. We’re going to try and limit needing to use the generator more than we need to. There’s not much in the way of hot water. There’s a lake nearby and a few trails you can walk around but they’re probably overgrown at this point. Unless you’re in danger, never leave the premises. If you need something that’s not here or on the list, tell me now. I want to limit trips to town to once a month if possible.”

“Cleaning supplies,” you said as you sat up. “This place is dusty.”

“Alright. I’ll be back in about four hours,” he said, turning to leave. “There’s a shotgun in the gun safe. Key is in the nightstand drawer. Try to keep out of trouble.”

He didn’t look back as he left, the door opening and shutting, the sound of an engine turning on and slowly back away.

“Well. Might as well try to make this place more livable in the meantime.”

Four Hours Later

“Hey. I’m back,” said Jensen. You lifted your head up from the couch, Jensen flipping on the light switch. “You don’t have to sit in the dark.”

“You said to save the generator.”

“During the day. It’s after eight,” he said. He made a few trips in and out before he finally locked the door after himself. His nose twitched and he glanced over at you. “It doesn’t smell as musty in here.”

“A wet towel works when you don’t have a swiffer,” you said.

“I grabbed fast food,” he said, setting a bag down on the table. “Eat up. Last take out for a while.”

“I was thinking while you were gone,” you said, Jensen putting things away while you took out a burger and a box of fries.

“I bet that was difficult,” he mumbled.

“You know I’m not gonna stay here if you’re gonna be an ass.”

“I frankly don’t give two fucks. I’m here for money. You want to go do this job back home, that’s fine with me,” he said.

“Well fuck you,” you said. You got up and went outside, not getting too far from the cabin before it was pitch black. You stopped by the end of the truck, staring at the darkness you knew was the dirt trail that would eventually get you to the main road.

“Don’t be an idiot,” said Jensen as he stepped outside.

“Why do you care? I already paid you,” you said. “You know what? Why don’t you just go and leave me here by myself. That way you don’t have to hang out with the dumbass actress.”

“I never said you were a dumbass.”

“You literally said that thinking was difficult for me not two minutes ago. Maybe I don’t know every little thing about whatever the fuck badass shit you learned in murder school but I am not the helpless bimbo you think I am.”

“Do not trivialize taking a life. You have no idea what it does to you.”

“I know a thing or two. Don’t assume you know a thing about me.”

“I had a full background worked up on you. You never-”

“The summer I was a camp counselor? You remember reading about that in your little background check? Another counselor drowned at camp that year. I know a thing or two.”

“Drowning is not the same as-”

“You have no clue what I’m capable of.”

“What? You saying you did it?” he asked, crossing his arms at you. 

“It was an accident. It could have happened to any single one of us,” you said. “Don’t use that whiny little bitch excuse for being a hardass. People die and sometimes it’s your fault. It doesn’t give you a free for all to be an ass.”

“An accident isn’t the same thing,” he said. He walked over and narrowed his eyes. “Inside. Now.”

“No. I should have followed my first instinct and fired you,” you said. You spun back around, barely getting a step in as strong arms wrapped around you and lifted you off the ground. “Hey! Put me down!”

“You’re a freaking idiot,” he said as he carried your squirming self back inside. He set you down at the table, shoving your shoulder when you tried to get up. “Eat and go to bed.”

“I’m not-”

“Do you have any idea why I’m a hardass? Why that might be? If I give a shit about you, I can’t do my job because then I’m going to worry. I’m going to worry about how you’re feeling and I don’t have time for that. You had a scare, fine. I calmed you down. Out here, you have to suck it up and deal on your own. I will keep you safe but we’re not friends. We’re a boss and employee and that’s it. Eat your damn dinner and go to sleep.”

He grabbed the bag with the remainder of the food and went into the other bedroom, slamming the door behind him. 

“Dick,” you said quietly. Ten minutes later you were changed into your pajamas and crawled under the blankets, staring out the dark window. “I just wanna go home.”

You didn’t speak when you made your way into the kitchen the next morning. Jensen was sat at the table with some rugged looking laptop and a cup of coffee. It probably worked off a satellite if you had to guess. You poured a cup from the pot for yourself before heading outside with it. You walked over to the dock on the small pond nearby, staring out at the calm water as you sipped on the warm liquid.

“You didn’t kill anyone you know,” you heard behind you. You didn’t turn but did hear one of the boards creak. “Being unable to save a guy who shouldn’t have been out there in the first place doesn’t make you a murderer.”

“I was on lifeguard duty that day,” you said.

“Yeah. That day. You weren’t at work when it happened. No body made that guy go underage drinking and swimming in the middle of the night. In a thunderstorm.”

“We were all drinking. No one was paying attention to the storm. It was the first and last time I’ve ever been drunk.”

“It wasn’t your fault. It was no one’s,” he said.

“I know. You think I should get over it,” you said, wrapping your arms around yourself in the cool air.

“I was going to say, it wasn’t your fault but I get feeling responsible for things that aren’t your responsibility.”

“I guess,” you said. “You find out who this person is yet?”

“No. I’m going to be spending most of my time working at that. Don’t go too far from the cabin, alright?” he said. He began to walk away and you turned your head, looking him up and down.

“I thought you didn’t want me going outside,” you said.

“Not alone at night, no. You can’t see your surroundings. During the day, stay within eye sight of the cabin and I think it’s acceptable for you to be on your own a bit.”

“Jensen,” you said. He turned and looked at you, waiting for you. “If I pay you more will you at least try to be a little nicer like you were just now?”

“Listen to what I say and I’ll be the nicest guy in the world,” he said, heading back to the cabin. “You want breakfast, make your own.”

“Good chat, Jensen,” you said, shaking your head at him. 

When you’d finished with your coffee you popped inside to put on some clothes better suited for outside. He gave you a quick glance before you slipped on some sneakers and had a hand on the door.

“Ah ah,” he said. The chair scratched against the floor and next thing you knew, he was right there, reaching into his back pocket. He held up a small little thing and pushed a button, flipping a blade out. “Switch blade. From now on, this doesn’t leave your side ever. I don’t care if it’s the middle of the night and you’re taking a piss. It goes with you.”

“Keep it with me. Understood,” you said. He put it in your palm and nodded.

“Open it.” You flipped it open and stared at him. “Where would you use it?”

“Maybe I’ll stab the guy in the dick. How’s that sound?” you asked. He smiled a little and looked away.

“Not a bad choice. Vulnerable points if you have time to think. Aim low. Up here, rib cage will try to do its job. It may hurt but not incapacitate. Down low, you got better odds. All else fails, just try to stab something.”

“I got it,” you said, slipping it into your pocket. He took hold of your arm as you started to leave and you groaned. “What now?”

“The keys to the truck are under the rock by the corner of the house. The flat one. If you have to get out of here for some reason and I can’t take you, you take yourself and don’t think twice,” he said.

“I understand,” you said. 

“Well...enjoy your day,” he said. He dropped your arm and went back to his computer. You headed outside and started to explore before he could come up with even more rules for you to follow.

Four Hours Later

You were stood on the edge of the shore, trying to teach yourself to skip rocks on the water when you heard a rustling behind you. Your head shot back over your shoulder, Jensen wearing a strange smirk on his face.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“You’re not very good at that,” he said, picking up a flatter rock. “You need to flick your wrist more.”

“You know how to do everything, don’t you.”

“I spent more than a few summers here. Not a whole lot to do,” he said. “Got it all the way out to the catskills over there once.”

“You’re not worried about my lack of rock skipping skills,” you said. He shook his head and shot a rock out, getting a few skips off before he stood by your side. “I can take it. What’d you find out?”

“How often do you read in detail the contracts your manager gives you?” he asked.

“For my shows, word for word. Appearances, I skim sometimes. Why?”

“You sign anything with Boom stunt services lately?” he asked.

“I signed some insurance thing I think, so I could do a few stunts on the show,” you said. Jensen nodded and crossed his arms. “What?”

“Your manager lied to you. He thought you were getting stuck in a rut with your show, your wildly successful show, so he hired a stunt man, one you signed off on and agreed to fake kidnap you. Even the drugging part of it. To help your image. Make you appear strong but vulnerable. You actually got a lot of offers recently for good movies after what’s happened.”

“My manager…” you trailed off, balling your hands up. You stormed back towards the cabin, Jensen on your heels. “I’m gonna fucking kill him! What the fuck is wrong with him!”

“Technically, you did sign a document saying you understood the arrangement,” said Jensen. “But obviously not. Based on what I’ve found and saw happening before, there’s no credible threat against you. My suggestion would be a lawyer at this point.”

“Can you take me home now please, Jensen,” you said, squeezing your eyes shut.

“I’ll load up the truck. We’ll be back tonight.”

Later That Night

“Y/N,” said Jensen as you wandered straight over to your liquor cabinet when you got home. “He’s quitting and paying a substantial amount for you to not press charges as well as covering all of your moving costs and my pay. You don’t have anyone after you. I know it doesn’t feel like it but consider it a win.”

“I moved out of a house I loved that I can’t go back to, I’m far away from my friends, the one person in this industry I’m supposed to trust hurt me and this has been nothing but a complete waste of your time. I’m sorry, Jensen,” you said as you poured yourself a double.

“You didn’t waste my time,” he said as you sat on the counter, knocking back the liquor. He walked into the kitchen and took the bottle by your side, pouring himself a glass. He sipped his slowly, your head ducking down. “I would like to stay on as your bodyguard if you’ll allow it.”

“For what?” you asked. 

“Protection for you, same as before. This time though, I’ll make sure to keep you safe from the people you trust,” he said. You raised your head, Jensen licking his lips. “Managers, agents, anyone. The only person I will trust is you. You let me be the asshole bodyguard, scrutinize the people you work with. This never has to happen again.”

“Why would you do that? You don’t like me,” you said. He finished off his glass and set it aside, stepping right in front of you and staring you in the eye.

“I don’t recall saying that.”

“We aren’t friends. We’re a boss and employee. Your words,” you said.

“I still don’t hear the words I don’t like you in there,” he said.

“I can’t trust you to take care of me, protect me, if I think you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“You have a funny way of showing it.”

“I told you. It’s very difficult to do my job if I care about you,” he said. “But the situation has changed. The threat is smaller. Safer. I can be friendlier...if you don’t question when I ask you to do something. My job is to protect you. You have to trust that all I am ever trying to do is keep you out of harm’s way. If we can agree to that, we can find a good rhythm, one where you don’t even notice I’m there and one where I know you’re okay. The threat before might not have been real but it exposed a problem. As long as you are living alone, you need someone here, just in case.”

“We will negotiate a new contract, one I can end anytime I so choose, and will detail when and when not you are on the clock.”

“Negotiating with you will be fun,” he said with a smirk. “We have a deal?”

“Do you really think I need a full time bodyguard?”

“We can negotiate that,” he said.

“I’m serious.”

“I think powerful, pretty, single women should use the advantages available to them to protect themselves.”

“We’ll talk about it,” you said. He smiled and headed for his bedroom, your gaze following him as he walked out of view. “Jensen.”

“Yeah?” he said, popping back into view.

“We’ll figure out your new contract in the morning,” you said.

“Yes mam,” he said. “If you need anything else, you know where to find me.”

“Goodnight,” you said. He left and you lightly swung your feet, staring down at the hardwood floor. You hopped down and put the bottle back in the cabinet, taking a deep breath. 

Nothing was wrong. Nothing at all. 

But something still felt strange. You couldn’t put your finger on it. Maybe Jensen sensed it and that’s why he wanted to stay. But he wasn’t shy about coming out and telling you how it was. 

You sighed and went to the freezer, taking out a pint of mint ice cream and heading upstairs to bed, hoping a night of sleep at home would put it out of your mind.

“No way,” you said as you sat back in your chair in your home office the following morning. Jensen was smirking from the other side of the desk and was leaned back in his own, your lawyer sat at the small sofa with his laptop and typing up what the two of you were going back and forth on. “When I am filming and appearances we agree on.”

“We already agreed on those. Now we’re negotiating the parts we don’t agree on.”

“I do not need a bodyguard on the weekends. I already compromised on the you being on at night thing,” you said.

“Well, I’m going to be living in that bedroom so-”

“Actually, you’re not,” you said. He raised an eyebrow and you sat up straighter. “I decided last night that seeing as how I don’t particularly like this house and Jared and Gen just moved, I’ll be moving closer to my friends. I saw a home last night with a small guest house in the back that would be perfect for you.”

“I might as well be living in a different home at that point. It-”

“It is connected to the main home. I thought you might appreciate your own space and to be frank-”

“You don’t look like a frank,” he said. You smiled a bit, Jensen’s grin growing.

“If we’re going to have a long term relationship, which considering the possible trajectory of my career this might very well be, I’m going to have to insist on you having a separate space for yourself. You will of course have full access to the main house at all times but if I have friends over or a date, I would like my privacy. I’m sure you would like your own,” you said.

“If we’re going to have a long term relationship, any of your friends or a potential boyfriend are going to have to learn to live with me being around. No exceptions. I will give you privacy but I will be staying in the main house. As for you moving closer to friends, I welcome it. They’re my friends too after all.”

“Let me pose a hypothetical question to you. Say I meet a guy, we date, he moves in with me. Are you going to continue to live in the main house?” you asked.

“That will depend on the circumstances of your life at that point but if he’s living with you, I would move into a guest house or suite,” he said. “I may possibly move to my own place entirely. As I said, it’s going to be highly dependent on your life at that time.”

“I can agree to that. But your bedroom in the main house will have some space from mine,” you said.

“Understood. I will keep my own personal excursions out of the home,” he said.

“Good,” you said. “Now back to the weekend thing.”

“I’ll compromise with you. I am off duty on the weekend but I reserve the right to protect you if I feel you’re in danger,” he said. “I will keep to a small area of the house on my off days for your privacy.”

“I appreciate that but I won’t enforce it if you choose to watch some TV in the family room. You being off duty on the weekends does mean that if I go out, you are following though,” you said.

“Compromise. If you go out and I want to go, I can but I don’t have to,” he said. “I can use my discretion.”

“What if I want to go out with my friends?”

“Go out with your friends. I may or may not come. I’ll stay away, let you enjoy your fun without me interrupting unless I see a threat. Deal?”

“Alright,” you said. “But I reserve the right to fire you on the spot for anything and I mean anything. Two weeks pay if I do.”

“Okay,” he said. You were surprised at how quickly he accepted that but he seemed indifferent. “It sounds like we have most everything settled.”

“Rob, can you send us both a copy of the contract for review then and-”

“Oh, I have something else,” said Jensen. “A little...requirement of mine.”

“We already discussed pay and benefits.”

“Those are fine. I’ve found in the past we don’t get along when you don’t listen to me. As part of our working relationship, you will take a self-defense course chosen by myself and you will learn the different things that if you do, will make your life safer and minimize the need for me. They are for both our benefits. One’s a short book and the other a two hour class. Is that acceptable?”

“Yes. Rob, write up our contract for us please,” you said. He said he’d have it by the end of the day and you slumped back in your seat, Jensen staring at you. “What?”

“Want to go pick out a house?” he asked.

“What?”

“You want to move. It’s Sunday. Open houses.”

“Rob’s already put in an offer on the place I mentioned,” you said.

“Oh. You don’t even want to see it?” he asked.

“The pictures seemed nice. I’ll renovate what I don’t like. I’m not moving again after this,” you said.

“Oh. Cool. I will pack up most of my things in the meantime,” he said as he stood up.

“It’s Sunday. You’re not at work right now. Do whatever you want, Jensen,” you said.

“New contract isn’t effective yet,” he said. “Besides, knowing you we’ll be in the new place in a week. Might as well be prepared.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 3 here!

[petite-ely]

Afraid // JJ Maybank

Six - Too much to risk

Pairing: JJ Maybank x fem routledge! reader

Warnings: Mention gun, being shot at, swearing, slight mention of death, maybe some mistakes oopsie, tell me if I missed something

Description: A small improvised visits by Petekin leads to a hectic afternoon in the marsh.

A/n : Hellooo guys, gals and pals, this is quite a long part. I really wanted to finish the first episode. also I really don’t know how to had a little read mor thing I don’t know how. Sorry! hope you like it!

Previously next

Afraid masterlist

gif by @robinsbuckly

Song recommendation

It was now far later in the morning, meaning the sun had fully risen and it was a much more reasonable hour to be up at. JJ had left a while ago and John B was still peacefully sleeping (and loudly snoring). Y/n hadn’t been able to go to sleep after her talk with the blond boy and she was now sitting on the couch reading her book (actually reading this time). So, when she heard the front door open, she didn’t bother looking up, assuming it was one of her friends. Who else would just come in like that anyway?

"Hey, there’s coffee made in the kitchen if you want any,” she said, still not pulling her gaze of off her book.

“That’s kind of you to offer, but I’ve already had two cups this morning, I don’t think it would be reasonable for me to have more.” Y/n’s book fell to the ground.  

“Sheriff Peterkin, I’m so sorry. I-I thought you were someone else-” she got up from her seat, “-do you, do you need anything, water or uh-”

“You don’t have to bother sweetheart, I’m not planning on staying that long. I just want to talk for a bit,” answered the adult.

“Okay,” she took a pause to swallow. “I’ll go get John B.”

“If you don’t mind, I’ll go get him myself.” Y/n nodded, watching as she disappeared into the hallway leading to her brother’s room.  

She started pacing around the living room, ferociously biting the nails on her left hand. It wasn’t every day a cop showed up in your house. She had absolutely no idea why Peterkin would want to talk. Actually, she had about 25 different ideas, starting with the fact her uncle hadn’t been on the island for about 3 months. And the party last night, what if she knew about the gun? Would JJ be in trouble? Whatever it was, it wasn’t good, that she was certain of it.

>>

The conversation went on for much longer than expected. Basically, Peterkin knew about their uncle being awol and she offered to help get  dcs off of their back for a while if they helped her in return. She had also mentioned that it wouldn’t be good if they had seen a shipwreck, which of course they denied despite that being actually true. Y/n didn’t fully understand what Peterkin meant. But she knew that it meant there was something valuable in that boat. And Jonh B knew it too. Yet, he was afraid, which was understandable, considering everything. They were pretty much guaranteed to be put in foster care if they got caught. Not good at all.

“You know what? I'm calling it off,” announced John B.

Y/n raised her head from her sketchbook, dropping her pencil on the low table in front of her to listen to what her brother had to say. She had been drawing silently while the other pogues, all sitting in different ridiculous positions across the backyard, talked and did their own things. She was only half listening to what they were saying, sketching messily the outline of the château. It wasn't very good, but it was calming to do. When she heard the seriousness in her brother’s tone, she closed her sketchbook, otherwise she’d be too distracted.

“Peterkin told us that if we stayed out of the marsh, she’d help with dcs.” The girl grimaced remembering the woman’s words.  

“And you believed her?” “Yes, JJ I believed her.”

“You really think that she’d help us?” asked y/n. “It’s been more than 6 months, bird. If she really wanted to help, she would have helped earlier, no?”  

“Yeah, she’s a cop, an actual cop. And you think she’s telling the truth?” added JJ.

“Look,” John B glanced at y/n. “All we gotta do is stay out of the marsh for a couple days and she’ll help us.”

“I know, I was there.” Kiara snickered softly at her friend’s words. “But I don’t know, I feel like we’re getting tricked or something. What if she’s like trying to lure us out of there-” she gestured to the water behind them, “-because there’s something she doesn’t want us to see, uh? What if it’s about dad?”  

J.B rubbed the back of his neck before turning his body slightly to face the ocean. “Look,” he addressed his sister. “I get that you’re curious and you want to know what’s down there, but I'm only trying to do what’s best for us. And I think it would be better if we listened to Peterkin. I’m just trying to keep you safe, to protect you, bug.” His voice softened as he finished his sentence.

“And it didn’t help that JJ was shooting a gun last night!” Y/n raised her eyebrows at Pope, her face clearly showing intrigue. She wondered where this conversation would lead, a fight between the two boys most likely. Her gaze shifted to JJ who seemed annoyed at the Routledge boy’s words.

“You know what, I should’ve let Topper drown your ass.” John B laughed. “Topper was gonna drown me?” “Sure looked like it.”

“Boys can you plea-” Y/n tried to stop the small bickers, miserably failing as her brother interrupted her. “Funny.” A loud sigh escaped the girl’s lips and Kiara beside her pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Have you looked in a mirror?” “Tell me some more. Come on.” “They always win don’t they, man?”

“Kooks versus pogues. They always, always win!” You could hear the frustration dripping from his voice. Which was understandable. He had a point, kooks always won, it was time for a change.

“Goddamn!” “Look, it’s okay!” Kie tried to reassure him. “No, it’s not okay!”

“He’s right,” agreed y/n. “They always win, or find a way to avoid the consequences.”

“Exactly, they don’t want us to go down into the marsh, that means there's something valuable down there and you know it.” He said to John B. “I know you do.”

“And I understand why you wouldn’t want to go,” he pointed to Pope. “You’re the golden boy, you got way too much to risk. And you,” he turned to Kiara. “I mean you’re already rich as fuck anyway.” Okay, that was an exaggeration.

“Why would you bother.”

“But us, you, me and y/n, we’ve got nothing to lose!” His eyes glowed with something y/n hadn’t seen in him in a long time. Hope. It made her sad to think about how JJ really had nothing in his life besides the pogues. But if he was hopeful, then maybe, maybe...

“We really don’t.” “Yes, we do have something to lose.”

“If something goes wrong and dcs comes in, y/n and I would be brought to the mainland in foster care. That means placed with families who probably only care about the check that comes in every month and her and I getting separated from one another and from you guys.”

Y/n thought about what her brother had just said. He had a point, if things went wrong, they could lose everything. Each other mainly and the pogues. It was the worst-case scenario. But if they didn’t get caught, it would make their life so much better. Was it worth all the risk though? That was the question.

“Do you understand what that means? How horrible it would be?” The girl got up from her seat and went to stand next to her brother. “I do,” she said. “I understand, bird.”

“I know that you’re scared and so am I.  It’s a pretty big risk. If we get caught, we’re fucked, but listen to what JJ has to say. I think that it might be worth the risk. And if we do get caught-,” she put her hand on his shoulder and turned him around so that he faced her, “we’ll find a way to find each other again. We’re Routledges, we always find a way to solve our problems, don’t we?” Her hand squeezed his shoulder softly. “We’re gonna be alright, bird.”

A small smile drew itself on John B’s lips. “So, what’s the plan,” he said to JJ.

“You got the key to Cameron’s big boat, right?” “No,” J. B’s face scrunched in disagreement.

“There’s scuba gear. We borrow that and then we go down to the wreck this afternoon and that’s what’s gonna save you, man,” exclaimed JJ. “You don’t see rich kids going into foster care, do you?”

Y/n breathed out loudly. She was scared as hell. This was going to be pretty tricky, but she knew something was down there. And if it wasn’t money or something like that, then it was something related to her dad’s disappearance. She could feel it deep into her soul.

>>>

“This is empty, you took empty tanks,” announced Kiara to the group as she furrowed through the bag of oxygen tanks.

Y/n put her head in her hands. Their plan had seemed so perfect and now they didn’t have the one thing they needed for it to work.

“Okay this one’s a quarter full. It’s enough for one of us.” “Love it when a plan comes together.”

“Does anybody know how to dive?” asked the brunette but only to be answered by a chorus of shrugs and denying nods. “Anybody?”

“It’s kind of a kook sport,” JJ looked at her.

“I, … I read about it,” tried Pope.  

“Great, Pope read about it, now someone’s gonna die,” exclaimed Kie dramatically.

“Look.” JJ’s gaze circled the group of friends.  “You put the thing in your mouth and you breathe. How hard can it be?”  

“I don’t think it’s that simple,” confessed y/n.

“Yeah,” agreed Pope. “If you come up too fast, Nitrogen gets in your blood and you get the bends.”

The girl’s eyes widened. She remembered a book she had read a while ago where one of the characters had the decompression sickness (and how tragic their death was).  

“Bends like bend over?” JJ joked as he bent his body in a way to stick his butt up in the air. Typical JJ joke, weird and somehow always a bit sexual. Y/n slapped his arm as a way to tell him off.  

“JJ, the bends is deadly,” she had a stern expression, “it kills you.” “Oh, right.”

“I can- I can dive,” announced J.B. “Yeah, you can dive I’m cool with that.” “Since when can you dive?”  

“No, you can’t dive,” scoffed his sister. “I’ll do it, it’s fine.” “What? The hell?”

“Let’s do some calculations real quick.” Pope pulled out a pen and started writing some numbers. Y/n got up from her seat and went to stand beside him. “So, that boat’s about 30 feet down.” “okay.” “So, it’ll take about 25 minutes at most at that depth.” “Twenty-five.” “Which means you need to make your safety stop at about... 10 feet. Alright? For two minutes.” “Ten feet, two minutes got it.”

They all watched as Kiara jumped straight into the water, her shirt already removed. “Uh, what was that all about?” “I don’t know, but I liked it, a lot.” y/n nudged her brother on the shoulder to get him to stop staring. He cleared his throat.

“Uh, so.” “All righty.”

She sat down on the edge of the boat, waiting for her friend to resurface from underwater. “Yeah. Uh, when you- when you’re down there, you look for the cargo hold. You stick this thing inside and you twist and pull, okay,” explained JJ. “Stick it in, twist and pull.”

“You okay?” asked y/n, while the boys kept on rambling. “Needed a swim?” Kiara rolled her eyes, a small smile on her face.  

“Hey!” she called to guys, John b more specifically. “I tied my t-shirt to the anchor about ten feet down. It’s where you need to do your safety stop.”

The Routledge girl admired her friend in the water. Her body moving gracefully as she swam back towards the boat. She seemed so, at ease. It used to be that way for her too, but now, even looking into the darkest part of the water gave her a feeling of vertigo. She wondered if she could still swim as good as she used to. It had been almost a year since the last time she had dove right into the marsh. It felt so far away. If only she was braver.

She hadn’t realised she had completely zoned out until she heard JJ speak. “Zen. Think Zen, you know.” She joined the group on the other side of the hms, her brother already suited for his dive.

“Hey, if we get caught out here in the marsh we’re basically screwed, so,” reminded Pope, “better get a move on.” “Copy that.”

Kiara got up and planted a small kiss on J. B’s cheek. Y/n looked at the two boys next to her with a confused expression. They both shrugged in answer, clearly just as confused as she was. “Diver down?” “Diver down.” She watched as his figure disappeared slowly into the water.

“All right.” “See ya, dude.”

She went to sit next to Kie. “I only love him as a brother,” she mocked her friend. “Yeah right, my ass.”  

“It’s just a small kiss y/n/n, it doesn’t mean anything. I still mean what I said yesterday. It’s just that,” she took a pause, her eyes squinting at the sun, “I’m just worried for him, you know he’s going through a lot and then there’s the shipwreck and all.”

“Uh huh, I totally get what you mean,” ironized y/n. “Shut up,” Kie nudged her with her elbow. “No, but seriously-” started the girl before being interrupted by the sound of a police siren behind her.

“Shit, guys.” “Guys, that’s the police.”

“Oh no, no, no, no, no, that is not good. Not good at all.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” “Yep that’s the police.” “Just act fricking normal.”

Anxiety bubbled at the pit of y/n’s stomach. Hopefully he wouldn’t recognize her, otherwise she was dead. So dead. She sat down beside Kiara in a somewhat natural position, her legs crossed to keep them from bouncing.

The police boat parked itself beside the hms. Officer Shoupe behind the wheel. “Evenin’ officers,” greeted Pope. “Evening.”

“How you kids doin’ ,” asked Shoupe. “You know the marsh is closed.”

“No.” “No.” “No, wow.” “I didn’t know that.” They all feigned ignorance, hoping to fool the two adults. “Why- why is it closed?” questioned Pope, adjusting his cap nervously.

“Well, we’re conducting a search out here,” informed the man. “Boat went down.” “Oh.” “Oh, no.”

“Seen’ anything?” asked the deputy.

“No.” “No, boats. No.” Y/n’s fingers tapped rhythmically on the boat, trying to keep herself from looking at her brother in the water.

“Where’s your friend you always hang with?” The pace of the rhythm fastened. “He here?” She opened her mouth, trying to think of a good excuse for the missing presence of her brother, but nothing came out.

“He’s working,” lied Kie. All of their heads nodded softly.

“I’m gonna check your little boat out,” announced Shoupe before hopping on the hms. “Yeah.” “Yeah, hop aboard.” The rhythm stopped, y/n’s nails digging into her palms.

He picked up a safety jacket. “You got another one of these?” “Yeah, yeah.”

“Of course, it’s uh, it’s in the hold,” JJ pointed to where the girls were seated. They both got up quickly. “Show him,” instructed Kie. Y/n’s joints were turning white.

“Okay.” JJ opened the hold and pulled out one of the jackets. “Yeah, here we go.” “All right.” The latch closed loudly. Shoupe’s gaze inspected the teens suspiciously. The tension could be cut with a knife.

He climbed on the flat part of the boat. “Be careful.” “Be careful out there, you don’t want to slip.”

He put his sunglasses on, staring at the exact place where John B and the ship were. The pogues exchanged worried glances. Hopefully, he wouldn’t see anything. He stood on the very edge of the boat, his figure towering over the water of the marsh.

“All right,” he finally turned around. Y/n breathed again. “All right.” “All right.”

“Beautiful day, innit?” “Sure is.”

“You let us know if you see anything on your way out,” he ordered as he started the engine. “Will do, will do.”

“We’ll be gone soon, sir.” “Yes, you will,” finally said the man before he vogued away.

Once he was far enough, the group hurried to the side of the boat, all worried about their friend. He’d been under for quite a long time now, there was no way he had any air left.

“He’s definitely out of air,” declared Pope.

At that exact moment, John B surged out of the water. Y/n felt relief take over her body. She felt her whole body unclench and let go of the grip her nails had in her hand.

“There he is!” Exclaimed JJ. “Oh god, Jesus Christ.”

“God damn it, Bird. I’m so glad you’re okay,” spoke y/n.

“Don’t scare us like that!” All of the pogues exclaimed, all so happy that their friend was all right.

“How’d it go down there?” wondered JJ. “Uh,” John b groaned and his sister hurried to the side of the boat to help him get in.

“Did you find anything?”

“Did I find anything?” He repeated throwing a large duffel bag onto the boat.

“Yeah there we go, that’s my boy!” JJ exclaimed excitedly.

“Are you okay?” Y/n asked as he coughed rather loudly. “Yeah, I’m good, but I ran out of air.” Her eyebrows scrunched together on her forehead. God, they were so lucky, what if J.B had ran out of air earlier? Or what if Shoupe had figured out what they were doing? Things could have gotten so bad.

But they didn’t, the girl reminded herself.

“You scared the shit out of me,” confessed Kiara, though it sounded more like a reproach.

“Yeah, same for me,” replied y/n. “Need a hand?” she stuck her hand out at him which he gladly took. The contact of the water with the cuts her nails had made in her hands burned, but she clenched her jaw and ignored the pain. She didn’t want to bother anyone.

“Yeah, the cops were up here but uh, took care of ‘em,” informed Pope.

“My bad.” “You’re all good.” “Yeah, you kinda missed the show, brother.”

“Hey guys?” Kiara’s voice was tinted with worry. “Guys, bogey, two o-clock.”

“What?” They all turned in the direction she was referring to. In the distance they noticed a strange looking boat heading towards them.

“Do you recognize that boat?”

“I’ve never seen it.” Kie put her hand above her eyes to hide herself from the sun. “What are they doing back here? The marsh is closed.”

“Honestly, they could ask us the same thing,” pointed y/n.

“Well, I think it would be better if we didn’t stick around and find out,” said JJ.

“JJ, get the bowline.” “Yeah.”

“Should we wait on ‘em?” asked Pope.

“Uh, I don’t think that would be a great idea,” responded y/n. The boat was coming in very fast and the people driving it looked angry and dangerous. It was much safer to just leave. “Go get the stern, go!” Hurried John B.

The blonde pulled the rope as fast as he possibly could. “Guys, don’t wait for me. Go,” he said. Y/n inspected the unknown boat in the distance, nothing about it seemed familiar. Who could these people be? And what did they want from them? “Let’s go.”

She kept her eyes glued to it as the motor started. “I have a really bad feeling about this,” she confessed, turning her head to John B. behind the wheel. “Yeah, I don’t like this either,” agreed Pope.

“Are they coming for us?” asked JJ. “Sure looks like it.”  

“Maybe they’re fishing?” proposed Pope. Y/n’s gaze paused on the two men. They were intimidating, to say the least. And their eyes, both had looks filled with something threatening. It wasn’t anger or hatred, no, it was the eyes of people who would do anything to get what they wanted and that was scary.

“Go, go, go, go!” “Go into the marsh.” “Let’s go!”

“I’m going. Act natural,” stated John B as he directed the hms towards the nearest channel.  

The white boat sped up, the motor roaring loudly. “Hey guys, they’re following us,” announced y/n. “Oh, this can’t be good.” “Shit”

“Dude, you gotta go faster!” “I’m going!” “Gun it!”

The sound of a gun shooting in the air echoed in the silence of the marsh. The pogues all went down instinctively. “Holy shit, guys!” “Oh my fucking god, what the fuck!”

JJ grabbed the back of y/n’s shirt with his hand, bringing her closer to him. “John b get down!” almost hissed the girl. Another shot fired, y/n clung onto JJ.

“Oh my god, we’re gonna die!” yelled Pope. A third shot fired. Y/n’s eyes caught the net at the back of the boat and an idea sparked in her head. She looked at Kiara, who clearly had thought of the same thing.

“Pope, move,” ordered the brunette as her friend stood to go grab the green net. Another shot flew into the air beside her, the bullet barely missing her.  

“Get down, y/n!” shouted her brother desperately. She headed towards the back of the boat and threw the net into the water. It slid down the current and got caught right into the motor of the men’s boat, making the engine come to a halt abruptly. It clanged loudly and the two men shouted in anger. A sigh of relief left the girl’s lips. Her plan had worked.

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” hurried Pope. A last gunshot was heard but the hms was too far away to be reached.

“Oh my god!” “Whew!” The pogues all cheered and laughed at their small victory. They were all so glad to be away from these men and all in one piece. Kiara pulled y/n into a hug.

“Y/n, don’t you ever do something like that again. You fucking scared the crap out of me,” said John B as they approached the dock of the château. “I can’t promise anything. Who knows when someone else will shoot at us?”

They all hurried themselves onto the dock, excited to know the content of the bag. “What do you guys think it is?” “Maybe it’s like jewelry? Would be a weird place to keep it but who knows?” “Gotta be money, right?”  

“That or a couple of keys with street value to the low- to mid-mils!” JJ’s eyes glistened with excitement. Y/n smiled softly.

“Can we please just open the bag?” burst Pope. The group all started at him.

“Wow Pope,” y/n giggled. “That was a rare outburst of emotions.”

“You guys are literally killing me with anticipation. Open the bag. We almost died over this.”

John B. pulled out a smaller bag which contained a metal canister. Every pair of eyes was fixed onto it as he pried it open and revealed a compass. Y/n kneeled next to her brother not believing what she was seeing. They exchanged a look, neither of them saying anything. They both knew what that object was and what it meant to their father, but what the hell was it doing there?

“Oh, wow. Yup, that’s about right.” Pope was clearly disappointed by their findings. “Good job, everybody. We found a compass.” Y/n raised a trembling hand to the compass, carefully taking it into her own hands to examine it. Was this really what she thought it was? How could it be? It didn’t make any sense.

JJ removed his hat in frustration. “Dude, what? It’s not worth anything.”

A small smile creeped on Jonh b’s face, his eyes still not looking away from the compass. “This was,” he started.

“This was our father’s,” completed y/n.

Taglist:

 @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @poguestyle17 @im-a-stranger-thing @lasnaro @thoughtsofthestars @briandaflores19 @lunaposey @allycat449-blog @ifilwtmfc @kitty084 @coloradogirl07 @ponyboys-sunsets @chaoticbisous @p0gue420 @sloaneemily @babygal-babygal

Tell me if you wanna be added or removed!

[tracybirds]

I was very determined to finish something today :D Yo all knw I’m back in lockdown which like... bro every time I try to write a thing that seems to happen so I’m snowed under again......................... Anyway, decided to finish up the exhausted Virg fic I began on Friday the 13th of August and how has it nearly been a month of lockdown already?? anyway I’m reposting the first bit with this, but wanted to say thank you to everyone who left comments on that snippet and encouraged me!! And big thanks to @gumnut-logic who read the first, slightly sleep-deprived first version of this before it underwent edits

It’s 11:30pm, my brain is no longer functioning, anyways, enjoy <3

 --------------

Virgil drags his leaden feet across the floor, still pink from the hot water, barely acknowledging Scott and Alan, chatting lightly together as he walks past them.

He’s not ready to sleep, but he’s not much good for anything else either.

He’s tired from the ground up. The exhaustion is only in his feet, his calves, his thighs, but it reaches up into his mind all the same. His shoulders ache, but it’s from good work and kind deeds, a balm for any residual overthinking.

He did good today, he knows it, can feel it in every torn muscle fibre.

He’ll just rest for a moment or two. Debrief can wait. John’s probably already written up most of the report.

He collapses onto the nearest sofa, but it’s more muscle memory than aim that lands him safely amongst the cushions.

“Cannonball!” crows a voice from somewhere above him, followed by a sharp yell of “Gordon, no!” and a crash that reverberated through his skull.

Then it hits him, and he launches himself sideways.

Gordon dives onto the sofa, arms and smile wide, as though he hadn’t just come off the same seven-hour mission plus bonus two-hour administrative argument with the nearest hospital who had just had their landscaping done.

And now, incidentally, redone.

Virgil glares from the floor.

“How’s it going, V?” Gordon says, still grinning.

“Ow.”

“Did you fall off the couch? You’ve gotta be careful about these things, you know.”

Short, sharp, monosyllabic words might be enough to fend off some lower forms of life, but Gordon is rather like moss, clinging to hard rock. Virgil opts to ignore him instead as he picks himself up with a groan.

A strong, sure hand grasps his arm and he accepts the extra leverage gladly, hauling his stiff muscles upright and stretching them carefully. He can see the chair Scott had leapt from halfway across the room. Alan isn’t even pretending he’s not laughing, the jerk.

Gordon is nestling, smirking as he burrows down into his cushions.

“Let it go,” he mutters, his hand now resting on Scott’s shoulder. He can’t handle a shouting match now, jackhammering into his brain after a day filled with enough pain.

Scott settles for pulling the cushions from under Gordon’s head and he falls back onto the hard frame with a squawk.

Alan’s laughter erupts again and Virgil doesn’t bother to smother his own smile.

Gordon sits up and his eyes are shining.

“Fine, fine, I deserved that,” he says, grinning up at Scott. “Now, get lost and put the large lump to bed, I checked the stats. There’s fifteen miles registered on his pedometer and he basically hauled three tons today.”

“Not all at once, Gordon, stop exaggerating.”

Gordon shrugs.

“I know the medical studies as well as you do. Sure, they might not think rescue work counts as overtraining, but science doesn’t lie.”

“But, people do,” Virgil says, scowling at him. Each word ripped more energy from his depleted stores. “And I was resting, thanks.”

Gordon lifts a finger, waggling it with a half-smile.

“A couch isn’t a substitute for a bed,” he says, dropping his voice to mimic Virgil’s own. “How many times did you say that to me?”

“When you had a broken back!”

“Right, that’s enough.” Scott steps forward between the bickering brothers. “Decompression time for you both.”

Virgil blinks, realising that he was stooping to an argument with Gordon. Gordon, who always fought dirty, twisting intent and laughing in a way he never could manage. He must be tired.

“Virgil, can you get up to your rooms alone?”

“Yeah,” he says, holding himself upright against the sudden wave of exhaustion. It was as though in remembering he was meant to be tired, his body had decided to lean into that realisation.

“And Gordon…” Scott pauses, eyeing Gordon who was still fairly vibrating with energy even after nine hours in the field. “Go watch a fish or something. Just stay away from each other.”

Virgil is already halfway out the door and his ears have been stoppered by weariness, the external world becoming fuzzy. He doesn’t hear Gordon’s quick reply.

He doesn’t hear Alan’s sharp cry either, doesn’t even register the way the world is tilting sideways.

He merely crumples on the floor in the hallway.

***

Virgil wakes slowly, awareness seeping into his bones and spreading outwards. His neck is propped up at an awkward angle; he’s resting on the pillows that he rearranges around him every night and they are much too high.

He moans a little as he shuffles, his neck creaking as it falls back in alignment with his spine.

The gulls call from outside his window, a high and keening cry. He can hear the light whistles of forest bird. The low murmur of voices unable to pierce the early fog of morning.

He doesn’t remember making it to his bed, but nor does he intend to rise from it.

 He wants to cling to slumber, doesn’t want to make conversation or move. But he’s already lost the game of sleep and settles for burrowing further into the light cotton comforter that had seen him through every summer of his life.

A rough hand on his shoulder greets him instead and he groans a warning as it flips him onto his back.

“Come on, Virgil, we know you’re awake.”

The voice floats down from above him. He grumbles deeply, unintelligibly, and turns his back on the inhumanity of it all.

A sharp poke pierces his clouded thoughts and Virgil growled as he opened one bleary eye.

“What?”

“Gentlemen, he lives,” crows Gordon, arms wide and ready to receive undying adoration for his proclamation.

“It’s been fourteen hours,” Scott says, grimly. “Time for a check-up.”

Virgil wonders at that. Fourteen hours of sleep, while rare in their home, was hardly reason for medical concern. He suspects though, that Scott already knows this, and doesn’t resist for fear that he’ll be forced to leave the warmth and comfort of his bed.

“The air’s stale in here,” he says instead. “I don’t sleep with my windows shut.”

“Arm,” orders Scott, and Virgil lifts it automatically, puzzling over his last memories which certainly don’t involve him shutting his windows. Or entering his room for that matter.

“I fell asleep?” he asks, suddenly.

“Right in the hall,” Gordon says, his eyes dancing with half checked laughter. “You went down like a ton of bricks.”

“It wasn’t funny.” Scott’s manner is terse, his shoulders tight and the deep crease between his eyes growing as he turns to glare at Gordon. “He could have seriously hurt himself.”

“He didn’t though.” He whips around to face Virgil. “And you’re welcome, by the way. I convinced Scott to let us put you here instead of the infirmary. Even woke John up to back me. I risked the wrath of John for you, he said you were physically fine otherwise you’d be waking in that cold infirmary and Scott would have a back spasm from sleeping in those terrible chairs. All for nothing too because you’re fine.”

Virgil stares at him.

He wants to argue with Gordon, the necessity of rules made for their safety niggling at the back of his brain. He wants to roll his eyes, tell him that the infirmary beds aren’t that painful, that the fluorescent lights that blink and buzz might be made for suturing and not sleeping but that they held their own kind of relief, of comfort.

He wants to thank him, for giving him this moment where he could wake slowly to the sounds of birdsong and crashing waves, unheard in the depths of the island. For that moment where he could lay still as the sun streamed in with warmth and good cheer.

He has a thesis of carefully memorised protocols warring with pure sensation of soft coziness and the luxury of a brother who loves him.

He isn’t sure which instinct is winning when he opens his mouth.

“You made me sleep on two pillows.”

The room blurs as the soft mound beneath his head is ripped away at lightning speed. Virgil hardly has time to hear the whirl of rushing air before the pillow connects with his head with a dull thud.

Gordon jabs at his arm.

“No appreciation, I tell you.”

“Gordon! Out!”

Virgil throws the offending pillow after him, chuckling at the sharp laughter that pierced the slammed door.

Scott isn’t smiling.

He pulls the sphygmomanometer tight around Virgil’s arm.

Virgil winces slightly, but says nothing. Not yet.

Scott’s movements are precise and ordered, with nothing to suggest he isn’t conducting a normal check-up at all.

But Virgil knows his brother.

“Hey,” he says softly, watching Scott stare at the dial. “I really am okay.”

Scott’s not listening to the blood pounding through his arteries, not even in pretence. Still, he ignores Virgil and pulls up a new medical report so he can stare intently at that in place of his brother’s gentle eyes.

“Scott,” says Virgil, leaning forward and placing a hand on his shoulder.

Scott shoves it away, his eyes snapping to Virgil’s.

“Why didn’t you call for backup?”

“You were off duty.”

“I don’t mean me,” Scott growls. “I mean, I do, I would’ve been there in a heartbeat if you’d asked. But you didn’t, did you? Not even Alan. Not even John.”

“John was helping,” says Virgil, sharply. “Just because he wasn’t on the ground, doesn’t mean he wasn’t working that same stretch of time. Why do you think Gordon had to wake him?”

“Stop side-stepping my point,” snaps Scott. “We’re a team, Virgil, you can’t work yourself to the point of exhaustion like that.”

“What choice did I have?”

“I should’ve been there, I could’ve-” began Scott, but Virgil merely raised his own voice.

“You couldn’t, Scott. What you’re angry about, I could turn right around and parrot back, you know. Don’t be a hypocrite.”

He fell back against the headboard, wishing he hadn’t woken up. Or at least that he wasn’t having this argument, not here and now.

And he recognises those eyes, the burning frustration at one’s own limitations and the rising fear for a brother mixed with torn compassion and understanding.

He’s mirrored Scott all his life, and it’s startling to see his own familiar expression on Scott’s face.

“Please, Virgil.”

He doesn’t say anything. He can’t make that kind of promise to Scott any more than Scott could to him. Not without breaking it.

Scott smiles sadly as he stands, accepting the silence.

He knows.

“Don’t even think about moving from this room for the next twenty-four hours. Just... get some rest, will you, Virg?”

He thinks he will.

[rjhpandapaws]

A Hand in the Matter

Chapter 12: Adopted by Strays

"So tell me about Garrett.” Silas said as he settled onto Richard’s couch. It was one of his rare days off and for once he wasn’t spending it at the theater, “What’s he like?” Richard rolled his eyes at the protective lilt to Silas’s voice, ‘Gavin.’ He corrected, ‘He Is Kind. Different From You And Connor. Rough Edges. Noisy.’ “You don’t normally like loud.” Silas remarked as Richard brought the drinks into the living room. ‘I Know.’ Richard agreed, ‘Something About His Noise Brings Comfort.’ “He brings liveliness with him.” Silas said, and then more absently, “Like Allen.” Richard paused. He hadn’t heard this name before, and he didn’t think he had been meant to now. Silas had let on that he made a new friend at work, but had never given a name. There was something in the way he said it. A reverence to it that he normally only reserved for Daniel. ‘Who A-L-L-E-N?” He asked. Silas froze for a moment, “Shit.” He scrambled to recover, “He’s just a friend from the theater, a new security guard. No one important.”

Richard stared at Silas over the rim of his mug. There was more to it than that. “No.” Silas responded, “Don’t you look at me like that. I’m here to talk about your newly acquired problem, not mine.” ‘Who Said He Was A Problem?’ Richard replied and Silas let out an annoyed huff. “Okay so I might be projecting a little.” He continued, “Anyway Gavin. Tell me about him. Starting why he was here for a whole fucking weekend.” Richard gestured to his now decorated apartment, ‘We Redecorated. He Is Friend From School. Very Kind. We Met At Cafe. He Has Cat.’ “There it is.” Silas said with a laugh, “He has a cat, that’s why you like him so much.” Richard rolled his eyes, ‘So Who A-L-L-E-N?’ “Fine.” Silas said with false annoyance to his voice, “I suppose it’s only fair that I tell you about my new friend since you told me about yours.” Richard nodded and waited for Silas to decide what things about Allen he wanted to share. There probably wouldn’t be much, but he clearly left an impression on Silas.

His brother was a private person. Both of them were really, but Silas did it oddly. Where Connor would avoid the topic or politely decline; Silas would give non-answers or selectively give information. Even though he didn’t typically say anything that helped to make it so someone understood the situation, they would feel like they did. He gave the illusion of transparency. It was the reason so many people thought they knew him well without actually knowing anything about him. There was a quiet sigh that marked Silas as being ready to talk, honestly, “He’s just a guy, there isn’t anything remarkable about him. Tall, brown hair, and eyes to match. You could lose him in a crowd without even trying.” He stopped and looked down at his tea, “But I always know he’s there. Even when I don’t see him. I’m hyperaware and I hate it. He’ s nice though, before you worry. Concerned for me not too unlike Daniel, but different at the same time.” ‘He Sounds Interesting.’ He didn’t really know how to respond. He wasn’t good with emotions, that was more of Connor’s thing. “He’s great.” Silas said it like a confession and Richard smiled.

‘I Happy For You.’ Richard said. Silas hummed, “Thanks.” They stayed like that for a while. Silas was back in his own thoughts and Richard let him be. He knew his brother had plans with Connor later so it was better if he got this out of his system now, otherwise Connor would go full big brother mode and that never ended well. “If you ever feel like it, you could introduce me to Gavin.” Silas said eventually, “I’ll be on my best behavior, I promise.” Richard smiled, this was a small gesture but it meant a lot since he’d never had a friend of his own, ‘After Finals.’ Silas nodded and placed his empty mug on the coffee table, “Sounds like a plan.” He looked at the time on his phone, “I’m gonna head home for a smoke and a shower. Connor wants to go out and do something now that we both have the time.” Richard could understand that. He needed time to decompress before going out as well, ‘Have Fun.’ “I’ll try.” Silas remarked as he stood, “I’m sure it will be fun once I’m ready.”

He walked Silas to the door and they hugged before Silas left. He did the dishes and put the mugs away so he wouldn’t have to do it later. Richard took out his phone to see if Gavin wanted to hang out. His most recent message was from Gavin letting him know he had plans with friends tonight. Gavin talked about them a lot. Chris and Tina, he seemed to like them and Richard wondered what they were like. They had borrowed Tina’s truck when they took his closet doors to be recycled but that was the closest he had come to meeting her. Richard was perfectly content with just Gavin, but he would like to meet the people he thought so highly of. The people who responsible for that stupid shit eating grin that always meant that he caused trouble and had gotten away with it. To thank them, he supposed, for making Gavin so happy. He put his phone away and went into the room that served as his office. He could draw for a while and then he’d probably go to sleep. He and Gavin had plans to study tomorrow and one of them had to be in a good state of mind. He figured Gavin would probably have a hangover from drinking more than he should have.

The sketch unsurprisingly turned into another drawing of Gavin. He looked up sports bar interiors so he could do the piece justice. Gavin was leaning on the table in his usual manner, with one forearm resting on it to prop it up the other elbow resting on it with his free hand gesturing in the air as he spoke. It took Richard a while to decide what the drink would be, but he eventually decided on beer. Gavin didn’t seem the type to do fancier drinks. When he checked the time again it was two in the morning. What was meant to be a sketch was now inked and flatly colored which wasn’t anything that he planned on doing. It was in his personal sketchbook so Gavin wouldn’t have to see it. He didn’t want to run the risk of creeping him out. He sat back and stretched with a sigh. It was time to call it a night if he wanted to be able to concentrate while they were studying. He picked up his sketchbook and put it in its place on the shelf. Away from his other sketchbooks so he didn’t run the risk of mixing them up. After that he got ready for bed.

He woke up his usual time. He rolled to turn of his phone alarm and found he had a few messages from his brother.

Connor: Hey. The cafe is going to be closed for a while. Connor: A pipe burst last night and there is a ton of water damage Connor: You’ll have to have your study dates somewhere else for a while. Me: Don’t worry. Just be safe. Me: They aren’t dates

Richard knew it would be a while before Gavin woke up. He had gotten a couple of drunk texts he still hadn’t been able to decipher. He finished getting ready for the day and deiced it was late enough in the morning to text Gavin and see if they could figure something out.

Me: The cafe is close for a few days because a pipe broke. Me: Is there another place we could meet?

About an hour passed before his phone chimed with a reply from Gavin.

Gavin Reed: There’s a place near me called Pawsome Coffee. It’s a cat cafe if that’s okay. Me: That works. Can you send me the address? Gavin Reed: Sure!

The cafe was a little out of his usual walking range, but it was nice out so he figured he could try. If he left now he could make it there by their meeting time. The walk was pleasant and he had caught his breath by the time Gavin made it. He was a little late, but that was normal. The cafe wasn’t too busy when they walked in, but it wasn’t long after they had opened. They ordered their drinks and settled at a table by the windows. He was barely able to get his things out before he was buried in cats. It started with a weight settling across his shoulders and he looked to find a short haired white cat lounging there like it was normal. Two more hopped onto the table. They grey one pawed at him and the rust colored one seemed content to just watch him. A black one settled in his lap and he was officially buried in cats. Gavin took sympathy and went to get their drinks once they were up. “Well aren’t you Mister Popular.” He joked as he set the drinks down and grabbed the rest of what they would need since he was significantly less trapped, “Normally it takes them a few visits for them to warm up to new people.” ‘I Not Do Anything Special.’ He said then pet the grey cat that was still persistently pawing at him. 

Gavin settled in at the table, “I think you just have that effect on cats and some people. Are you even going to be able to study like that?” ‘Yes.’ He replied as he stopped petting the now sleeping grey cat, ‘S-I-L-A-S worse.’ Gavin laughed, “There is that I suppose.” ‘Will You.’ He pressed. “Yeah.” Gavin said as he opened his textbook, “I used to study here all the time before I adopted Franklyn. She doesn’t like it too much when I come home smelling like other cats.” ‘Dirty Cheater.’ Richard signed in a deadpan. He wasn’t ready for Gavin to start coughing. Richard hadn’t seen him pick up his drink. That had been bad timing on his part. Gavin laughed as he caught his breath, “God damn it Richard, you can’t just say things like that when a guy is drinking his coffee. You could have killed me.” Richard rolled his eyes. He was being just as dramatic as ever which meant he was fine. They finally began studying, and Gavin had fewer questions than Richard thought he would. He was glad that Gavin had made so much progress. Especially since midterms started on Monday.

It only took him two hours to give in and pet the cats that were on and around him. Gavin had done well today and they both deserved a break. It was a stretch to justify his distraction, but it was the only way he could do this without feeling guilty. “Hey. So I have a question.” Richard looked up when Gavin spoke, he looked almost uncomfortable, “Chris and Tina were wondering if they could meet you. Apparently I talk about you a lot and they’re curious. Obviously if you don’t want to, just say so and I’ll let them know.” ‘Not Today.’ He didn’t have the spoons, ‘This Weekend Maybe? If You Not Busy?’ Gavin nodded, “How does Saturday sound? That’s Chris’s day off.” ‘Saturday Works.’ Richard said, ‘Can We Meet Here? Hand Brewed Hope Not Open.’ Gavin agreed an spent a little more time telling him about his friends. It was nice to know what he was in for. They sounded like fun and Richard was actually looking forward to it. They parted ways with plans to meet back at Pawsome Coffee on Saturday. He didn’t have the energy to walk back so he hailed a cab.

With meeting Gavin’s friends on the horizon Richard didn’t worry about his midterms at all. He was too busy worrying about making a bad first impression. He was a little odd according to most people and a lot of people didn’t take his being nonverbal very well. They always assumed that he was being rude. Gavin didn’t seem to mind it so he hoped his friends would be the same. When Saturday rolled around Richard wound up at the cafe before it opened. The walk had helped to clear his head but anxiety still bubbled beneath his skin. When the cafe opened he settled at the same table as last time. The same cats as before made themselves comfortable on him again. Chris was the first to show up. Richard noticed he had hearing aids and some his anxiety melted away. His being nonverbal wasn’t going to be a problem it seemed. He introduced himself and they went up to order their drinks. They signed to one another until Tina slid into the booth, then Chris began to interpret for him. It was nice. Gavin was the last one to show up, late again, but no one really cared.  He set his drink on the table and picked up the cat that was beside Richard so he could take its place, “I swear you keep treats or some shit in your pockets.”

‘I Thought You Said I Have Captivating Personality.’ Richard teased. “With people as well as cats apparently.” Gavin remarked as he rolled his eyes. “Captivating personality huh?” Chris laughed. “Oh shut up Chris.” Gavin said with no real anger to his words. Tina looked a little bit lost, “So am I the only one that doesn’t know Sign Language then?” “Yeah.” Gavin shrugged, “But I’m still learning so don’t worry.” ‘I Teach You If You Want.” He offered. Gavin spoke for him, “He said he would teach you if you would like. Or we could add him to the group chat.” “Why not both?” She replied, “But it really sounds like he has enough on his plate with tutoring you so Chris can teach me instead.” She gave Chris a gentle shove, “Lord knows we have enough time with all the hours we spend on patrol together or at our desks.” “Thanks for asking T.” He responded dryly, “But we aren’t here for that.” “True.” She agreed, “We’re here to have coffee and a good time.” The conversation picked up some after that. It was a lot of reminiscing, and despite not having been there for any of it, he still felt included. He learned a lot about Gavin and it was nice.

“We go out for drinks at a local bar on Fridays if you ever want to join us.” Tina offered as they got ready to leave. ‘Sounds Fun.’ Richard replied and Gavin let out a put upon groan. “We can cab together then I guess.” Gavin said with a slight smile. ‘Thank You.’ He was looking forward to it despite the fact that he didn’t drink. They went their separate ways outside of the cafe. Richard flagged a cab and felt his phone buzz.

Chris added Me to: Oh No! Its the Cops. Me: Thank you for today. I had a lot of fun. Tina: Of course! it was great to finally meet you. Chris: See you Friday! Gavin Reed: I’m in danger. Me: Only if you don’t take care of yourself. Tina: I like him Chris: Same

Richard smiled at his phone. For once he wasn’t nervous about having plans. He supposed he belonged to a group of friends now. It was funny how fact things could change. He still had his brothers, but now he had a group of friends of his own. There would be no more being passed between baristas and actors. Better yet, this time he wasn’t afraid. Even if he was, he had people he could turn to now.

[btsslowburnfic]

The Arrangement Ch. 19

Story summary: Desperately in need of money, you answered the questionable ad. AKA-Arranged marriage AU featuring Y/N and Yoongi

Chapter Summary: After the photoshoot you and Yoongi decompress

Previous Chapter here  AN: SO FLUFFY UGH

You slunk back to the elevator and just stood there for a second. What a weird day. You pulled out your phone to double check your work schedule and saw a message from Yoongi.

YG: I ordered pizza.

You smiled. 

YN: Oh yeah? Did you order enough to share? 

YG: *Eyeroll* 

YN: :D Where is this food? Apartment? Studio?

YG: Apartment. Photoshoots wear me out.

You pushed the button for the 18th floor. Other people got on and off as you made your way there; it was the end of the work day for most of the hourly staff. You finally arrived at your stop and headed left.

You opened the door and took off your shoes, immediately noticing the delicious odor of bread and hot cheese filling the air. You had been running around all day and just now realized, other than a few carrots, you hadn't eaten today. 

"Oh my God thank you so much." You declared as you walked into the kitchen. You eyed the box sitting on the counter and looked around for Yoongi. “Helllooooooo?”

“Good. I’m starving.” You saw him rise up like a reanimated corpse from the couch.

“You didn’t have to wait on me.” You reprimanded, even though you thought it was incredibly thoughtful. Yoongi just shrugged and walked into the kitchen.

You opened the box and handed him a plate. 

“I have no idea if you ‘ll like this.” He said as he took some pieces.

“I like food. My favorite food is the food in front of me.” You took the plate over to the table, going back for some water.

Yoongi followed suit, quieter than normal. 

“You ok?” You asked.

“Yeah, just tired. Photoshoots take so much more energy.” He collapsed down into the chair. 

The air was filled for silence for several minutes as the two of you stuffed your faces. Finally, you worked up the nerve to ask, “Sooooooo…...did you know Bongcha was asking you out or are you oblivious?”

Yoongi looked up, shaking the bangs out of his face. “I knew. But what should I say to her? "No I don’t want to go out with you" and ruin her day? Upset her at work? It would make things awkward for both of us. Nah. Just request another stylist for a few months.” 

You pursed your lips together in thought. “Why not just date her though? She’s cute. You guys get along. Why go through this whole elaborate contract scenario?” You gestured to yourself.

Yoongi sighed. Ugh he had been dreading you asking him about the contract. Things had been going so normal. He thought, stupidly, maybe he could just never think about it again. Of course with Namjoon and BPD up his ass he knew that was unlikely. He realized he had been quiet for too long.  “Look, If I actually dated someone I worked with and then it didn't work out, imagine the fallout. The scandal. The wasted time. Plus then I'd have to go on dates and stuff. I'm busy.”  

You rolled your eyes "We went to a diner the other night. And the grocery store." 

Yoongi blinked his eyes and stuffed more food in his mouth. “Not dates.”

You scowled. "You spent all Sunday driving a van and putting up with my family'

Yoongi chewed, taking as much time as possible to think of a response. “Yeah but I did that because I wanted to."

You rolled your eyes, “You're a weirdo "

"Says the girl who signed a contract to marry a guy she didn't know. And who doesn’t eat their pizza crust. Are you 5 years old?"

"Crust is gross. Anyways. I'm a very good judge of character, I will have you know." You pouted at having been admonished over your crust preferences.

"That's true. You could tell Namjoon was an asshole within 30 seconds I bet." He jested. 

"Haha yeah. I could tell he was  rich and full of himself by his demeanor and then when he opened his mouth, he confirmed the asshole part. And, I knew Alice was awesome within like 2 seconds.” 

Yoongi pushed his plate over a bit and interlaced his fingers. Resting his chin on them, he asked, “OK. So what was your first impression of me?” 

You laughed as you recalled sprinting in your work clothes.  “That you were busy. Very busy. And a little bit short on patience, but I thought that's because you were in a hurry.” 

“Sounds about right.” He took a sip of his water. 

“The second time I met you, you were putting on an act for Namjoon. Still not sure why... " You eyed him suspiciously. “You guys have a fucked up dynamic "

"You are right all-around there. Cheers." He lifted his glass in your direction."You did a great job today."

You scoffed, "I literally just pointed at things and handed you stuff.”

“Hey I've been to shoots before, you haven't. Today went much smoother than usual. “

“Really?” You rocked back in your seat.

“Yep.” He stood up and extended his hand." Do you want more? "

"Yes please. Thanks again for ordering. I didn't realize how hungry I was til I got home.” 

“‘Same.” He took the plates to the kitchen and returned with more food. Sitting them down on the table. He pulled his laptop over and looked over some things as you guys sat in silence for a few minutes. You scrolled through your phone, returning some texts from Jimin and your brother. 

"Do you want to go watch something?" he asked, taking you by surprise. 

You raised your eyebrows, “You're not going to work?" 

"I told you, photoshoots wear me out. I'm done for today."

"Yeah sure," you stood up and grabbed the plates. "I'll clean up the leftovers and get changed. Pick whatever."

You travelled up to the loft area about ten minutes later, much more comfortable in your leggings and oversized sweatshirt. 

Yoongi was waiting on the couch, the remote in his hand as he scrolled through the menu. You plopped down on the other end, covering your mouth as you yawned.

“Grab a pillow. You know you’re going to fall asleep.” He said without looking over.

“No I won’t,” You protested through another yawn.

He shot you a look that told you he knew you were full of shit and got up. He returned a minute later, throwing a pillow at the back of your head.

“Hey.”

“You’re welcome.” He sat back down, adjusting himself into a comfortable position.

You grumbled a thank you as you balled the pillow into a couch-compatible shape and leaned up against it. You pulled back for a second. It smelled just like Yoongi. This was his pillow. You looked over, his eyes were still scanning the screen.

“Since you’re going to fall asleep in ten minutes I’m putting on my favorite documentary.” He said matter-of factly.

“I will last more than ten minutes.” You declared. You heard a small snort come out of his mouth as he dimmed the lights and pressed play. You started to watch the movie and tried to pay attention, but your heartbeat was racing. You kept replaying earlier conversations in your head and also smelling the pillow. You felt like a pervert. The man across the couch was completely oblivious. You stared at him for a few seconds and realized that yes, you did like him. Well Shit. You didn’t have too much time to ruminate on this as your eyelids began to grow heavy. Soon you were passed out, just as Yoongi predicted.

Ten minutes into the NBA show he looked over, a knowing smile crept onto his face. You were out.

He took a deep breath. What the fuck was he doing? He tried not to think about it too much. Every time he thought about you and the contract it left him feeling weird. The thought that you were getting paid to like him and to hang out with him, didn’t sit well at all. But he knew there was so much more to it than that. He picked up his notepad and wrote a few lyrics, the movie playing for background noise at this point. 

After several minutes he looked at his writing. Satisfied, he stood up and slipped the notebook into a desk. He didn’t think you would snoop, but better safe than sorry. He looked back at the couch and smirked. He thought it was hilarious you thought you would stay awake when he knew better. He went over to the stuffed animal line and pulled out a Snorlax. Appropriate, he thought as he sat it down on top of your side. He snapped a picture. Sweet revenge. Stretching, he decided to head to bed himself; only slightly lamenting that he had given you his favorite pillow and now he would have to use the flatter one. NEXT CHAPTER

@lidda  @anpanman-sonyeondan   @firefairy1  @cuteipat  @sugaslittlekookies  @janeelizabeth1216 @deeepvibes @gxldenhunny @livelyjay @niniita-ah @bobbyboops @honeysunandsoil @deathkat657 @min-yus​ @or-worse-expelled7​

[heybeybey]

Kismet

Braindumped this yesterday so now you have this fic.

Thanks to @sleeperswakewriting and @anya-grace. They didn't really push me to write this. It's more like 2 people liked the idea and I'm weak for Rivetra so here you go.

Still dedicating this to the two of you for supporting my need for lolo (grandpa) levi + roller skating petra!! 🖤🧡

Pairing: Rivetra | Levi x Petra

Genre: Fluffy romance!!! Tooth-rotting fluff so sweet that I'm gonna write heartbreaking angst next to balance things out.

Summary: The ginger-haired waitress skates over to him, her pink skirt a flurry behind her. She stops beside his table and gives him a disarming smile. "Welcome to Kismet Diner! What will you be having today, sir?"

Okay, so this diner wasn't a shitty choice after all.

Or: 50s Diner Waitress! Petra x Retired Soldier! Levi Modern AU

[Also, if you wanna listen to the songs Levi was forced to listen to in this fic, here's the playlist.]

--

Sweeter than candy on a stick Huckleberry, cherry or lime If you had a choice he'd be your pick But lollipop is mine

If he's going to listen to another most-likely-already-dead-woman belt out a cheery love song, Levi's sure he's going to finally pop a vein. He grumbles as the next track plays, grateful that this one is more on the mellow side so he can actually focus on his work.

Old school music on loop aside, Kismet Diner is actually pretty decent. They serve good food for an establishment that he thinks is trying way too hard to be a blast-from-the-past monstrosity.

Levi found the place by accident when he was out trying to find a place to work. He didn't feel like spending another evening inside his apartment and thought a change in scenery might help him decompress his mind.

Fucking codes just won't write itself, he thinks.

After wheeling himself around his new neighbourhood for a while, he found that this diner was the only thing open. Having no other choice, he found a spot for himself and settled in with his laptop.

He didn't expect that he'll be returning every night though.

(And that he'd be willing to listen to these cheesy retro love songs every time.)

From behind his laptop, he sneaks another glance at the bubbly server.

He distinctly remembers his first night here. A ginger-haired waitress skated over to him, her pink skirt a flurry behind her, as he settles in his chosen seat. She stopped beside his table and gave him a disarming smile. "Welcome to Kismet Diner! What will you be having today, sir?"

Okay, so this diner wasn't a shitty choice after all, he recalls thinking at that time.

It took him a moment or two to finally answer her and she diligently noted down his order. She flashed him one last smile after she promised that she'll bring his food over in five minutes.

He spent those five minutes feeling like a real creep because his eyes never left her.

It's been a few days since then and he watches her now as she picks up the leftovers from the table in front of his. She wishes a customer goodbye, and skates back to the counter.

"Petra! Think you can extend your shift a little bit? Rico called in sick," a voice from the counter calls out.

"Sure! Her shift's until 1 am right?" The ginger, Petra, replies.

And that's how Levi found himself staying at Kismet Diner until 1 am.

- - -

I laughed at love 'cause I thought it was funny You came along and you moved me honey I've changed my mind, this love is fine

"I think the customers like this song but I can't seem to place what the title is..." The rush hour has since lulled when Petra wonders out loud to the other waitress who's still in the kitchen.

He remembers this one. The older guys back in the military would belt it out when they're drunk as fuck on days when they're allowed to have a break. Frankly, it gave him a headache every time and he doesn't know how Erwin and all the other soldiers were able to take Pyxis seriously after his one-man concert.

He speaks up without thinking.

"Great Balls of Fire by Jerry Lee Lewis."

"Yes, that's the title!" Her eyes light up and she fully spins to face him. "You're into oldies music?"

Levi blinks, and for the first time in his life, he found his throat dry because she's finally talking to him fuck fuck fuck what will he say what was the question again.

"Uh... yeah, I guess?"

Wait, what?

She skates over to his table, a wide smile on her face. "That's so cool! I don't meet a lot of people my age who's still into the oldies. Even my dad teases me about it."

"Oh..."

"What's your name? I'm Petra, by the way. But I think you already know that," she grins sheepishly, pointing to her name plate. "I know I shouldn't really be talking to you but you're here every night so I thought it might be great to get to know our regular customers more."

He blinks up to her, trying to get a hold of himself before he fucks this up even more.

"Levi."

"Nice to meet you, Levi." She looks at her wristwatch and her surroundings, probably checking if there are more tables to cater to, before turning back to him. "My shift's over but I think you stay up late here, right? Mind if I sit with you? I haven't eaten dinner yet and I'd appreciate the company."

He gives her a shrug as his approval and she beams another smile before disappearing back to the kitchen. Petra comes back after a few minutes, still in her pink waitress uniform but without the cap and she also changed her skates to normal cream flats. She brought along a small bag and she unpacks it after sitting down at the chair in front of him.

What the hell is happening?

"Don't get me wrong. I love the food here but it's a bit overpriced if you ask me," she says as brings out her lunchbox. "Don't tell Nanaba that though."

"Wouldn't your boss fire you for randomly inviting yourself at a customer's table?"

"Nanaba? We go way back high school. She's the one who's pushing me to take breaks actually."

They sit in silence for awhile after that. Levi watches as she munches on her sandwich while he takes another sip of his coffee. Not knowing what to say, he just turns back to his laptop to type away. Petra, on the other hand, seems like a great conversationalist.

"So... what's your favorite?" She speaks up after having few bites into her dinner.

"Favorite?"

"Song? There's a lot of classics that deserve attention but I'm curious which one caught your attention."

Fuck.

His mind comes up blank until the image of his blonde best friend came to mind. Erwin knows about this old school shit. Not surprising because he's more ancient than Levi is.

What was that song Eyebrows belted out again when they went on that dreaded karaoke night? He recalls Erwin singing something after his cheating long-distance girlfriend finally broke up with him when they were allowed to call their loved ones.

"Mr. Lonely by Bobby Vinton stuck with me." He replies, again without thinking. She laughs out loud the moment the words were out his mouth and Levi frowns in indignation. "Oi, if you're going to laugh at my shitty taste in music then you can get your ass off my table."

"No, no." Petra wipes away a tear from her laughing. "I think it fits your grumpy 'get-off-my-lawn' grandpa vibe. What, someone broke your heart recently?"

"Grumpy grandpa?" Pretty smile and bubbly personality aside, he's starting to think this woman's a bit rude.

- - -

He's still back the next day though.

"Good evening, sir! Will you be having the usual?" Petra greets. He gives her a slight nod before wheeling himself to his spot. He watches as she flurries around during the dinner rush hour, skating from one table to another. She never loses her smile, even when one lady was being a bitch after Petra delivers the wrong milkshake.

Unlike the previous nights where he's content with just sneaking glances at the gorgeous waitress, Levi spends the next few hours gathering the courage to make a move.

Petra stayed in his table until closing time last night and he listened as she babbled on about all their menu offerings and how she likes creating the milkshakes and the coffee the best.

He'd like to think that they're somehow acquainted enough for him to maybe ask her out.

A look a-there, here she comes There comes that girl again Wanted to date her since I don't know when But she don't notice me when I pass

The booming music is only making him nervous, the cheesy lyrics is pissing him off and fuck, he really wants to punch the music player off right now.

Once Petra finally skates over to him though, setting down his usual black coffee and clubhouse sandwich, he takes his chance.

"Are you free tomorrow night?"

"Sir?" She blinks at him and he almost melts as he stares at her huge amber eyes.

"Uhm... you mentioned that you have Fridays off," he starts. "There's this fair that will be opening tomorrow night and I thought you might be into that. First day's the best time to go too while the crowd hasn't shit on the place yet."

The more he hears his words, the more he wants to kick himself with his still working leg.

He notices that a faint blush started to color her cheeks, eyes shifting down before she gives him a shy smile.

"I'd love to go with you, Levi."

- - -

"Wow, you..."

"Were able to hit them all?" He gears up to shoot the last can. "I was in the military."

"No wonder you have that cool scar!"

His eyes darkens a little bit at that, mind taking him back to the career-ending moment that led to where he is now.

Petra seems to notice his reaction. "I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"It's fine. It's been almost a year." He cuts her off. This day's supposed to be fun and he's not allowing his PTSD to take over his chances of charming a girl (which was already low at his current state, he thinks).

"That's amazing, son!" The guy manning the booth approaches him. "Feel free to pick any prize for the lady."

Petra looks down to him for approval, asking if she can pick a prize or if he'd rather pick one since it was him who won after all. He gives her a small smile, gesturing towards the display of prizes.

He watches as Petra buzzes around in excitement, deciding on whether she should get the elephant plushie or this creepy clown plushie that caught her attention for some godforsaken reason. (He pushes her to get the elephant one instead.)

I've got sunshine on a cloudy day When it's cold outside I've got the month of May I guess you'd say What can make me feel this way

"Vanilla is still the best."

"You're boring," she retorts. "How can you only try mint chocolate just once in your life? You get refreshing and sweet dark chocolate at the same time. It's the best combination out there!"

"Yeah, if you like eating your toothpaste," he retorts back.

"Come on, just give it a chance?"

They're settled on a bench right now, his wheelchair parked next to the seat. They take this opportunity to have a conversation while they finish their ice cream.

He learns that she's currently finishing up a nursing degree and that she's working part-time at Kismet Diner to fund her studies. She has an obsession with mint chocolate ice cream, and that she truly loves skating outside of work because she also does roller derby on the weekends (with her boss Nanaba and another girl named Nifa). She's an only child and her dad currently lives in the countryside.

Levi tells her a little bit about himself too and he's glad that she respects his reserved nature. He doesn't tell her about his time in the military, only that he used to be a captain for a few years before he left. He also shared that he used to pursue a degree in Computer Science before dropping out halfway through to join the military. Since he left, his unfinished degree has been useful since he was able to find consistent freelance opportunities as a web developer.

That seems like the perfect job for someone who's anti-social as you, she notes and he gives her an unamused look.

He also finds out that he's actually ten years older than her, and he feels even more like an old man at that moment.

"Hey, I like your grumpy grandpa vibe," she teases him.

"You'd get along with Gabi and Falco."

"Who? Are they your kids?" Her eyes lights up when she takes note of his fond tone before it starts to narrow in suspicion. "You're not married are you?"

"What? Hell no. My hair would probably be gray now if they were." He says. "They're my neighbours. Both... what? 13 I think? They wouldn't stop pestering me since I moved into the complex a few months ago. Those two brats also won't stop calling me grandpa. Do I really look that old?"

"I'd say it's because of the wheelchair but it's actually your scowl that completes the look," she replies with a cheeky smile.

When they're done with their ice cream, Petra rolls him around while he holds on to her big-ass elephant plushie for her. He'd know she's excited about a booth in particular when he feels his wheelchair move faster towards their destination.

Throughout the night, she won them a bag of lollipops once and Petra insists he takes them home to Gabi and Falco. He, on the other hand, was surprised that his military background would be useful for something as useless as carnival games. His fast reflexes and sharp eye bagged them a few more wins, with the last game earning them a free popcorn.

- - -

Before they capped off the night, Petra (the retro lover that she is) led him to a nearby jazz club that she visited once. She insisted that it's on the way home so why not drop by? The atmosphere is more chill than Levi expected so at least he didn't have to listen to another upbeat bubblegum retro track.

"Come dance with me?" She says after a moment of watching the couples on the small dance floor.

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm on a wheelchair for a reason."

"We can work around it." Ever the optimist, she leans down to try and help him stand up. "Lean yourself on me. I'll support you throughout."

Levi obliges, placing all of his weight on his working left leg while trusting the rest to Petra. He has his arms around and he tries to start moving with her.

He almost slips as he takes another step and in frustration, he attempts to sit down instead. "It's no use Petra-"

Petra's hold on him tightened. "Just trust me a little more Levi."

He sighs, attempting to stand again. They do find the right balance and rhythm on the second try and Levi breathes out in relief.

Soon, they're swaying to the music and Levi couldn't remember the last time he was upright like this, except for when he has to drag himself around with his crutch in the mornings.

Put your lips next to mine, dear Won't you kiss me once, baby? Just a kiss goodnight, maybe You and I will fall in love

"Petra?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm not really into oldies music."

"I know. I realized that when you only kept mentioning the famous hits."

"Huh."

"I actually cringed when you said you liked Mr. Lonely."

"Shut up." She giggles at that and they finally sway in companionable silence, taking in the slow beat.

When the music stops, Petra reaches up to him, placing a kiss on his cheek. He feels his face warm up, throat bobbing as he stares dumbly at her.

"Thanks for tonight, Levi." - - -

Levi goes back to Kismet Diner the next day, and the day after that. He's there every night and she's always the one who takes and serves his order.

He'd accompany her as she eats her late-night dinner on his table and he sometimes brings her some cookies he baked that morning. Nanaba would throw Petra a smirk here and there whenever she serves his table or when Petra clocks off to have dinner with him.

"Your captain's here," he once heard the taller woman whisper to Petra once the door closes to signal his entrance.

Levi would order the same black coffee and clubhouse combination that Petra eventually offered him to try other things on the menu. "Come on, it's on the house! Why can't you just try other options?"

Love me tender, love me sweet Never let me go You have made my life complete And I love you so

One morning three months into getting to know each other, Levi wakes up feeling contentment wash over him when he smells that she's brewing his usual order from his own apartment kitchen.

Petra enters his room beaming a few minutes later, black coffee and a plate of pancakes in each hand. He distinctly notes that she's playing her retro love songs on loud speaker again and he's long since given up on stopping her.

She leans down to place his breakfast on the side table and she starts peppering kisses from his scarred cheek up to the affected blind eye.

"Good morning Levi!" He wholeheartedly accepts both the breakfast and the kisses, hooking his arm around her waist and cuddling closer to her as he sits up in bed.

He takes her in and finds that he slightly misses the pink uniform and roller skates she dons while she serves him at the diner... but he won't deny that he definitely prefers seeing her draped in nothing but his slightly oversized white shirt instead. "Morning."

🧡🧡🧡🧡 ehehe send fic requests here if you'd like

[ayellowcurtain]

because no one can make me change my mind on the fact that nothing is going on between the two even after tonight’s clip. Could you write about them talking and him maybe freaking out about yasmina seeing aicha’s insta post and thinking there could be something between them?

The guy is still looking at him, annoyed that he’s not buying anything and also being rude to his customers so Younes grabs a water, pays for it without saying a word and walks away. He stands outside the grocery store for a minute, not sure what to do, where to go, fumbling with his phone, looking around. The boys are not at the basketball court. Yasmina is gone too. He finally unlocks his phone, texting Aïsha because he needs to check if she’s seeing things the way he is or if he’s actually losing his mind from overthinking where he managed to make Yasmina mad at him again.

To Aïsha: yasmina is pissed

We ran into each other and she's mad!

Do you think it’s because I invited you to the movies?

He opens instagram, checking the photos Aïsha posted last Friday while he waits.That was stupid, he should have asked not to be in the pictures or something. But he wasn’t paying that much attention either. It was a boring movie after all, and he kept distracting himself, thinking how it would be cool if he could do that with Yasmina. He should have rescheduled with her that day! The second she said she couldn’t go made the movie half as interesting anyway.

To Younes: ...

You shouldn’t be asking ME about that.

What did she do?

Younes sighs, calling her already because the first message gave him even more anxiety.

“Hi!” Aïsha picks up right away, a little out of breath like she’s busy doing something.

“Hey. What do you mean I shouldn’t be asking you? And the dots? Did she tell you something?” Younes starts walking slowly back to the basketball course, making sure to look around him, searching for a wild Elias, ready to scare him, and accidentally hear him talk about his little sister and his feelings for her.

Aïsha sighs loudly on the other side, and Younes stops walking, very sure there’s something going on that only he’s not aware. Aïsha doesn’t sound surprised at all, and he thought she would be. A little on edge because of the way Yasmina treated her the other time they ran into each other.

“She’s probably pissed that we went on that date.”

Younes stops walking, frowning, somehow even more confused than when he talked to Yasmina.

“Date, Aïsha? What do you mean date?! I had tickets that I didn’t want to miss and you offered to keep me company. That wasn’t exactly a date...” Younes tries not to sound as mad as he feels with the thought that an innocent invitation to the movies could make two girls as confused as one thinking he was asking her out, and the other girl mad that Younes could have possibly invited their friend to the movies when the tickets were for her to use with him.

“No. I know! I know...I meant a friend’s date. But yeah...If I were to guess, I would think that’s the problem.”

Younes squeezes his eyes shut, trying to breathe slowly, not to get even more worried that he ruined everything with Yasmina again in the space of weeks. Of course she would get mad about that! Younes should have asked her or at least texted her telling about going out with Aïsha.

“How close are you two? Like close friends, that could be mad if went out with a guy your friend might like...? Or just like... acquaintances?” Younes tries to measure his words the best he can while asking what he needs to know. Aïsha sounds like she’s lying when she says them hanging out together could be a problem for Yasmina.

“I’m not sure but I think she’s not my biggest fan. I lied to my parents once during Ramadan and Yasmina saw it and she got pissed. We’re very different, you know that.”

“Fuck, Aïsha...”

She laughs and Younes doesn’t think she understands how worried he is. He grabs his bag and drags closer to the bench, sitting all by himself somewhere where he can see if Elias decides to come play some basketball.

“You like her?” She asks, excited to get into that subject, and Younes rolls his eyes, not feeling like opening up his heart to her now that it seems like she knew going on a “date” with him would make Yasmina get this upset.

“Why didn’t you tell me anything? You even posted those pictures!”

“Of myself! Enjoying a good night!”

Younes sits closer to the edge, putting his elbow on his knee, massaging his eyelid with his free hand.

“I don’t think you understand how mad she is.” He sighs.

“Oh, I have a pretty good idea. She’s not one to hide her feelings most of the time.”

Younes curses under his breath, finding a way to end the call already so he can think straight. It’s stupid, how connected to Yasmina he feels, how he’s for once certain she likes him back. And now that there’s something between them that he could have avoided. The situation was under his control, and he messed up. The religion thing was two personal decisions that he didn’t have control of. Now he had, and he read everything wrong. He didn’t do anything! But he understands how Yasmina could easily misinterpret those pictures.

He grabs his phone again, hovering his finger over Yasmina’s phone number, thinking about calling her, but she would probably decline his call.

He writes everything he feels without thinking because he needs it out for a second, to decompress his brain so he can find a way to fix the situation. He writes about how he thinks she’s the best person ever. How anyone would be lucky to marry her, have 6 kids, cook for her every night and day if needed. How much he likes her, so much so that it’s hard to wrap his head around it, such a big, powerful, strong feeling at such a young age. He never fell in love before and he doesn’t need it to happen again because it feels so right with her, even when it’s messy. How much he liked holding her hand, even if for half a second.

Before he can accidentally send it to her, he deletes everything carefully and starts over.

To Yasmina: I’m sorry if I was rude earlier, it was never my intention.

Nothing is going on between me and Aïsha. We’re friends. Barely that, actually. You said you couldn’t go and I invited her as a friend.

He sends it before he can get carried away, saying more things than he needs to. He puts his phone back inside his pocket, and looks right, to the direction he should go if he thought going to Yasmina’s place to talk to her was a good idea.

Elias is chill, most of the time. Younes is almost completely sure he wouldn’t get too mad if he told him about his feelings for Yasmina. Aïsha is no help now, and Elias is his safer bet if he wants a chance to talk to Yasmina in person again, long enough that she’ll listen from him that he’s not dating anyone, not interested, not looking. He hopes he knows Elias well enough to guess he’ll be happy when Younes tells him he’s falling in love with his sister.

[ardett]

(ruining me) completely

New Karlnap/Karlnapity fic! They’re poly, your honor :)

Description: Sapnap and Karl are dating, Sapnap likes Quackity, and Karl is poly. It could all be so easy except it isn't.

As always, you can read it on Ao3!

Karl was made for this life.

The Feral Boys have been on tour for the better part of the last year and Karl wouldn’t give it up for the world. He flourishes under the stage lights, relishes the feeling of his voice going hoarse from screaming, adores the heat and sweat that comes from the wild crowd. He loves everything about it.

And he loves Sapnap.

God, he loves him.

They got together about half a year ago. They’re the perfect love story: bassist falls for drummer in the most popular band in the world.

Karl had his eyes on Sapnap since the beginning, since they were all starry eyed and unbelievably hopeful. He loved Sapnap’s fireyness, how he’s never afraid to speak his mind and how he always makes things more fun. They were so young then, so much younger then they are now. But somehow, it never went away. Karl falls easily and often but Sapnap is special. Sapnap is someone Karl wants to come home to.

But that love doesn’t come without consequences.

Or no, that’s not exactly fair. Not consequences, just sacrifices.

It’s… tricky. Karl doesn’t like to linger on it, doesn’t like to feel ungrateful for all he has because on the surface, he has everything he could ever want. He gets to be on stage each night with his best friends. He gets to hear the cheers of thousands egging them on. He gets to fall further in love with Sapnap each time he sees him.

But recently, something’s been squirming in his chest every time he sees him. It started a couple weeks ago.

-

For once, they finally get to sleep in a hotel instead of the tour bus.

They each got their own room and Karl had spent valuable alone time decompressing on his phone, savoring the rare silence, but it didn’t take long for boredom to set in. He’s always enjoyed the company of others more than his own.

He wanders over to Sapnap’s room. Maybe they could finally cuddle on a bed bigger than a matchstick. Sapnap always gives off a ridiculous amount of heat and Karl loves to lace their fingers together and snuggle closer to him, soaking in the warmth.

He knocks on the door. “Sap? I know I said I was gonna take a nap but I’m bored.” There’s no answer. “Sapnap? You in there?”

Karl waits a few more seconds and then shrugs. He figures Sapnap must either be asleep or have gone out to grab something. He starts typing out a text to his boyfriend when he notices that Quackity’s door isn’t fully closed.

Karl pushes it open with his foot and steps inside.

“Quackity, are you free? I’m so bore—”

“Karl? What—”

Karl looks up from his phone and pauses at the sight of Quackity and his boyfriend sitting next to each other on the bed, laptop balanced between them on both of their thighs. Karl just catches the split second of Sapnap whipping his hand off Quackity’s knee. Karl giggles as the movement jostles the computer and Quackity snaps, “Hey, watch it!” as he grabs the laptop to stop it from falling.

Quackity looks oddly guilty as his hands fiddle with the computer. He seems to almost lean away from Sapnap.

“Hi Quackity!” Karl smiles, trying to brush past any awkwardness of his arrival. “Sap, I didn’t even know you were in here. I was just looking for you.”

“Karl, um, what are you doing here? I thought you were taking a nap.” Sapnap doesn’t quite meet Karl’s eyes. His hand twists in the bedsheet, bereft from where it was resting on Quackity. He doesn’t sound excited to see him. 

“Oh, sorry, I am interrupting? I can go. I was just bored and couldn’t fall asleep.”

Sapnap hesitates. “I mean, I guess. We were in the middle—”

Quackity suddenly cuts him off. “No, no, you’re not interrupting, Karl! Actually we were just about done with this.”

“What?” Sapnap glances over to Quackity, brow furrowing. “No, we weren’t, we have like an hour left in this—”

“We can finish it later!” Quackity says louder, practically glaring at Sapnap now. Karl watches this all, biting his lip and trying to figure out the best way to interject. “Maybe you should go and spend time with your boyfriend.” Quackity emphasizes the last word. As Sapnap hears it, his expression shutters from confused to frustrated to ashamed.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re… you’re right,” Sapnap mutters. 

He starts to stand but Karl asks, “Well, what are you watching? Maybe I can join you!”

Sapnap shifts on the bed. “Just some action movie.”

“Can I watch with you then? I might fall asleep though.” Karl doesn’t wait for an answer, just jumps onto the bed next to Quackity so the other boy is in between the couple.

Quackity stares at him. “You, uh… you don’t want to sit next to your boyfriend?”

“Nope, this is fine. Plus, I can still do this!” Karl grabs Sapnap’s hand, resting their interlocked fingers on Quackity’s knee again. Sapnap’s eyes soften and he gives Karl’s hand a little squeeze. “Start the movie!”

Quackity doesn’t say another word, just does what Karl asks. Karl doesn’t want to make it too obvious he’s watching Quackity but out of the corner of his eye, he thinks he sees the boy blushing.

At some point Karl must fall asleep because he wakes up to the credits rolling. His head is resting on Quackity’s shoulder, his hand long ago gone lax and lost its hold on Sapnap’s. Through bleary eyes, he sees Sapnap’s hand still resting in the same spot on Quackity’s knee, tracing small circles on the bone.

Even when they all stumble back to their rooms, Karl holds that warm, complete feeling in his chest. It’s almost freeing.

-

Karl knows how he was supposed to take that interaction.

People aren’t supposed to feel happy or optimistic when they see their boyfriend spending time with someone else, when they find them pressed into someone else’s side with a hand on their knee.

Karl just doesn’t think it’s that big of a deal. Sapnap would never cheat on him. Karl knows that with 100% certainty. Even if Sapnap did have feelings for Quackity, he would never act on them.

And Karl guesses that’s a good thing because he’s also almost certain that Sapnap is developing feelings for Quackity. He can just see it. He knows his boyfriend. He can see it in the way Sapnap sings on stage and looks at Quackity, the way he brings Quackity his coffee on days they have to get up early, the guilt in his eyes whenever Karl catches them together.

But Karl also knows that Sapnap still loves him deeply and truly and that he doesn’t have to worry. He’s not worried. He’s not worried because he knows Sapnap would never try anything with Quackity, not while the two of them are together.

Although…  

Although that’s not what’s assuaging Karl’s worries at all. Karl’s not worried for an entirely different reason, one he still tries not to admit to himself.

(Karl’s not worried because Sapnap and Quackity are cute together. If Sapnap finally told Karl that he had a crush on Quackity, Karl would support him. Karl can see the appeal. And he wants Sapnap to support him too.)

-

The feeling comes back to haunt Karl all the time, in the sweet boys and cute girls he notices on tour, in the conversation he starts and ends too soon. He wants to tell Sapnap because he’s always believed honestly is best but he can’t muster the words.

He’s just so… frustrated. He doesn’t want to have to live like this, in fear of even looking at other people without being accused of cheating. And he knows Sapnap and Quackity could be good for each other. They could all be good for each other.

Quackity’s hilarity fits with both of them. Karl appreciates how considerate Quackity can be, a protector even when he doesn’t mean to be. He could even fill in the sexual gap in Sapnap and Karl’s relationship. Karl doesn’t feel bad about being ace. Sapnap knew about that even before they started dating. Sapnap’s never tried to change that about him but Karl knows that if he was someone else, they would be having sex.

Karl knows it’s unconventional and that he shouldn’t think this but he wouldn’t mind if Quackity and Sap hooked up, not if it satisfied them both and made everyone happier.

But that can’t happen. Karl’s been told this so many times. That’s not what a relationship is and it can’t be like that.

So instead all of them sacrifice things for each other.

Karl watches Quackity’s guilty downcast eyes intensify and sees him push Sapnap away. It’s hard to ignore his constant comments on their relationship, like he’s always trying to remind them and himself that this isn’t allowed. 

Karl gets to nurse Sapnap after each rejection but they never talk about it. Sometimes Karl can coax out a couple words about how Sapnap feels like Quackity doesn’t like him anymore, doesn’t even want to spend time with him. Karl tries his best to push them to hang out again, hoping maybe that will open up the conversation in some way, but Sapnap will just shake his head and start insisting it just means they get to spend more time together and shouldn’t that make them both happier.

And Karl, Karl has spent the last weeks trying to repress every wrong thought and feeling terrible each time he fails. He loves Sapnap so much. He wishes he was allowed to love Sapnap and be himself, every part of himself. He wishes they were all allowed to search for love and still be loved.

-

Karl snaps out of his thoughts. He has to focus.

Tonight’s concert is a tough one. It’s their third consecutive night performing, city after city after city. They’ve just moved over time zones so they’re all down an hour of sleep after too many nights on a tour bus.

Karl’s fingers move along the familiar strings of his bass but he’s starting to feel like he’s having an out of body experience. 

Dream’s voice echoes in his head but the words are meaningless. His teeth glint in the stage lights. Dream’s always been the heart of the band in every way. He’s the tall blond heartthrob and he’s the only one who’s as close to a bleeding heart as Karl. But over the last two years, he’s only had eyes for George.

Karl’s gaze slides over. He watches George watch Dream, like he always is, like he hasn’t turned Dream down three times now without explanation. Dream says he knows George just isn’t ready yet. Sapnap is a bit more righteously angry on behalf of his best friend, probably because he’s had to console a heartbroken Dream after each rejection.

Karl doesn’t like to get involved in something so personal for the both of them but he doesn’t think George can hold all the love Dream wants to give him. He thinks George knows that. He thinks George has decided this is the best way that neither of them get hurt. Karl isn’t so sure he agrees.

George strums a chord on his guitar in harmony with Quackity on the keys.

There’s something oddly elegant about the way Quackity plays the keys. Every other part of him fits the feral label. He’s just as loud as the rest of them, crude at times, has a wicked scar over his eye from one time he got caught in a mosh pit, but if you just focused on his hands, you would see his joints stretched across an octave, you would see the gentleness of a finger pressing out the final note of a song. He’s sweeter than he lets on. Karl can see what Sapnap likes so much about Quackity. He always knows exactly when to stop so he doesn’t go too far.

It’s probably the reason Sapnap hasn’t made a move yet.

That isn’t the whole reason, of course, Karl knows that. Sapnap’s got some misguided sense of loyalty into his head that says Karl wouldn’t approve. 

Except Karl would approve. He really, really would.

But they haven’t talked about it. Karl’s trying not to think about it. Right.

Because instead of talking about it, they demand sacrifices from each other and Sapnap doesn’t even know what he’s asking of Karl but Karl knows exactly what he asked Sapnap to give up and it would be so easy for them both to be sated but instead they’re—

Karl isn’t thinking about it.

He floats further out of his body instead.

Sapnap howls into his mic and Karl watches him rip into his drum set, wood splintering off his drumsticks and heat radiating from his hi-hat. Karl does love him. Loves the way Sapnap will let him untie his white scrap of a headband while they’re kissing, loves the way Sapnap will give him a piggyback ride back to the tour bus if he asks, loves the way Sapnap brushes a knuckle across his cheek and tells him that he’s changed everything for him.

Karl sees Sapnap throw his sticks into the audience and that’s the only way Karl knows the concert is finally over.

As they head backstage, someone pries Karl’s bass out of his unwilling hands and gives him what’s meant to be a friendly slap on the back. Karl’s chest tightens and he almost snaps but then there’s a too warm hand in his, squeezing gently. Sapnap always runs warm.

“Hey, baby,” Sapnap whispers into his hair. The screams of the crowd almost drown him out. Karl squeezes back but he doesn’t answer.

No thinking, just getting out of here. No thinking, just getting to the tour bus.

It’s quieter past the backstage exit but like always, there’s fans where they aren’t supposed to be. Security is holding them back and that’s fine, or it would have been fine, if someone hadn’t grabbed at Karl’s sleeve and yanked him away from Sapnap.

She’s cute, is the thing. Brunette, eyeliner and blush, roses in her hair that match her shoes. Karl doesn’t know how he notices her shoes when he stumbles but he does.

He doesn’t even quite hear what she asks, her eyes glittering and her phone clearly recording. Something about their band name.

But whatever it is, it’s the thing that finally forces Karl back into his body and makes him explode.

What Karl means to say is you’re cute and I wish I could smile at you and talk to you but I’m not allowed because everyone’s told me so. But that’s not what comes out. What comes out is far worse.

They called themselves the Feral Boys for a reason. Karl doesn’t usually let it show because he doesn’t usually feel like this - this pent up, this frustrated, this hurt - but now he does. 

And now he rounds on the poor girl, eyes deadly, voice snarling, “I’m sick of all this How'd you get your band name? Is that your real first name? Can you text and can you follow back 'cause it's my birthday?” 

The other boys have noticed Karl lagging behind. The girl flinches back but Karl can’t stop himself, not even as silence sweeps across the small crowd gathered. He screams, “No one cares what I want! Just what I’ve got. And if we sit and count it up, it’s really not a lot.”

His voice dies in his throat. He stares at the girl. The shock and terror on her face mirrors his own.

“Oh god, hey, please—” Dream is suddenly in front of the girl, pushing Karl behind him. He begs the girl, “Please, please don’t post that, okay? I’m really sorry. Karl didn’t mean that. Whatever I can do to make it up to you. I can sign anything you want—”

“Come on, Karl, let’s go.” Quackity’s at his arm, tugging him insistently towards the bus. “We gotta go, Karl. Dream’s going to handle it, let’s go.”

Karl doesn’t even register them getting inside but next thing he knows, he’s sitting on one of the tour bus chairs. How long has he been here? Dream’s still not back. All the window curtains are pulled shut.

“Karl, what the fuck?” 

Karl’s gaze snaps to Sapnap as his boyfriend paces in front of him, hands clenched into fists.

“You can’t— You can’t fucking do that. You can’t yell at our fans! I don't know what the hell is up with you but you can’t take it out on other people like that!” Sapnap fumes, teeth practically sharpening in his anger.

“I know, Sap,” Karl mutters, eyes dropping to the ground.

George slips past them, saying, “I’m gonna check on Dream, make sure he’s got everything under control.” Quackity retreats to the back of the bus to give them as much privacy as possible but Karl knows he can hear every word.

“If you’re feeling like that, you take it up with us.” Sapnap’s gaze is fiery. His shoes scuff black marks onto the floor. “You take it up with me. If you need to scream then fine, but not out there. What are we going to do if she posts that video online, huh? You’re supposed to be the best of us—”

That comment makes Karl growl. Why is it that everyone but him gets to decide who he’s supposed to be? 

He stands up, pushing past Sapnap and going to grab a shirt from his bunk. “Well maybe I don’t want to be the fucking best of us anymore. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Yeah, yeah, it is if you’re gonna be cruel about it!” Karl hears Sapnap coming after him but he doesn’t turn around.

“I wasn’t trying to be cruel—”

“But you were! That girl paid to talk to us, hell, just to see us, and you screamed in her face! Karl.” Sapnap grabs Karl’s wrist, forcing him to face him. “What the fuck were you even on about? No one cares what you want? Obviously I care about what you want.”

“Get. Off. Of. Me,” Karl growls instead of answering.

“Um, guys—” Quackity tries to intervene, coming out from his bunk and stepping towards them. They both ignore him.

“I’m your boyfriend,” Sapnap spits. “You have to tell me if you’re feeling like this—”

Karl laughs, something bitter and acrid. “You’re literally the problem!”

“Maybe if you both took a second to relax—”

Karl snaps, “Fuck off, Quackity.”

Sapnap bristles, grip tightening on Karl. “Don’t yell at him.”

“Oh yeah sure, I won’t yell at him. In fact,” Karl rips himself out of Sapnap’s hands. “Why don’t you just go cry to Quackity about it? I’m sure you’d both like that, wouldn’t you?” 

Karl’s words twist as soon as they come out of his mouth. This isn’t what he meant to say at all. This isn’t how he wanted to talk about this. But it’s too late to take anything back now.

Sapnap’s gaze turns steely. Karl can see his defenses rise. “Is that what this is about? Me and Quackity? Because that’s not fair and you know it. We’ve never done any of that shit.”

“But you could! You like him, don’t you?” Sapnap opens his mouth to reply but Karl turns to Quackity instead, demanding, “You know he likes you. You can’t be that blind.”

Quackity’s eyes flick between the two of them, uncertainty and shame written across his face. “I, um—”

“It doesn’t matter,” Sapnap interrupts Quackity’s would-be confession. Karl doesn’t miss the way Quackity flinches. “It doesn’t matter because I would never do that to you.”

Karl throws his hands up. His blood boils, not at Sapnap but at himself, at everyone, at all the expectations they have to follow. “Oh my god, that’s the whole problem! I don’t care that you like Quackity or if he likes you back or if you fuck in your fucking bunk beds. What I care about is that you’re too much of a coward to admit it and fucking ask him out!”

Sapnap’s expression turns incredulous. “Karl, we’re literally dating!”

“Yeah, so what? That doesn’t mean you can’t go out with Quackity.”

“It literally does!”

“No, it doesn’t!” And Karl’s not trying to scream back at him but he can’t help it. Why can’t things just be easy? Why does everyone have to make everything so complicated? “Come on, Sap, I know you miss having sex. Don’t even try to tell me you don’t.” Karl tries to level his voice, to actually be honest for once. “And I know you would never push me like that and that you respect me being ace and I love you for that but do you think as your boyfriend that I want you to be miserable?”

“I’m not… I’m not miserable,” Sapnap protests. His voice gets quieter and he seems to realize that they have an audience. His eyes dart over to Quackity before fixing on Karl. “Yeah, whatever, I miss having sex but at least I don’t want to die anymore.”

“Sap…” The word comes out soft as Sapnap clutches at Karl’s sleeves and then rests his head on Karl’s shoulder. He hears Sapnap take a shuddering breath.

“Karl, you make me not want to die. You know all this touring and stardom and just, everything, it’s a lot for me and, and I need you. I’m not going to lose you because I want to fuck someone. That’s not… that’s not even an option.”

“You don’t have to lose me. I’m telling you that you don’t have to lose me,” Karl promises, rubbing a hand down Sapnap’s spine. He feels his ribs expand and shake.

“I’m gonna— I’m gonna go—” Quackity starts saying but Karl latches onto his wrist.

“No, no, you should stay. I shouldn’t have said— You should stay. Stay.”

“O—Okay,” Quackity stutters. His eyes go between them nervously. “I don’t— I didn’t— I mean, Karl, I don’t want to come between you two. I really don’t.”

“Just— okay.” Karl takes a deep breath before taking a step back and looking at them both. “Let me just be clear. Come clean, I guess. Sapnap,” He meets his boyfriend’s gaze, trying to give him a smile and only half managing. “I’m polyamorous. I know I should have told you earlier, I know, but I was nervous. It’s hard to bring up on a first date, you know. And I liked you so much. I like you so much, now. And I thought it would be fine and that I wouldn’t feel this… this suffocated but it’s really not fine. I don’t want you to think this means I love you less. It just means… I have lots of love to give. And I think it’s lovely that you do too, that you have room for me and Quackity, so why do we have to stop that, you know?”

“I, um.” Sapnap gives him a nervous smile. He nods tentatively. “Y—Yeah. Yeah, totally. I agree.”

Karl’s brow furrows at the hesitance. “Do you? Doesn’t seem like you’re okay with it. And if you’re not, we… I… We’re going to have to talk about it. Because I’m telling you things have to change.”

“I don’t want to suffocate you!” Sapnap says quickly and then repeats, “I don’t want to suffocate you. I just, um, I don’t know what that word means?” he admits softly.

“Oh,” Karl lets out a breathy laugh. Relief spikes through him, almost painful with how sharp it is. It’s easy to forget that something so all consuming to him can be completely unknown to most people. “Yeah, yeah, of course. It’s… It’s, um… Okay, first of all, it’s not cheating.”

“I would never cheat on you,” Sapnap interjects. Karl winces at the misinterpretation of his words. He can’t tell if Sapnap’s insistence that he would never cheat is a good or bad sign for this discussion. Sapnap goes on, “I don’t want to cheat on you, Karl! Me and Quackity aren’t— We’re not—”

“Sapnap, just—” Karl holds up his hands and Sapnap’s mouth snaps shut. It’s not like he can turn back now and there’s nowhere to go back to anyway. He can’t keep living like this. “I know, I know. That’s what I’m saying, okay? Having a poly relationship isn’t cheating because there’s consent. It’s not a secret. So like, for me, it means I like flirting with other people and sometimes going out on dates and maybe kissing them. Maybe for you, you just want to have a couple of consistent partners.” Karl gestures to Quackity, watching as both boys flush. Karl shrugs, a nervous smile gracing his face, “I just… There’s so many interesting people out there, you know? And I think it’s kind of dumb that I can’t meet them or talk to them or look at them because we’re together.”

Sapnap crosses his arms, hugging himself. “And we’re… We’re not breaking up, right?”

“Well…” Karl bites his lip, looking away. He feels the atmosphere in the room thicken and darken, beginning to press down on his shoulders. “I don’t want to but…”

Sapnap’s voice is so so small. “Karl?”

Karl sighs. “I don’t want to. I really don’t want to. I just need you to understand that this is non-negotiable for me, okay? And I feel like…” Karl buries his face in his hands, pressing his fingers into the hollows of his eyes. “I feel really stupid asking you this because I know it sounds like I’m just… that I can’t control myself and that I can’t stand not flirting with people. But I want you to understand that it’s more than that. 

“I feel so guilty for thinking people are attractive and fucking— even just making eye contact with people because what if you see me do that and you don’t like it. It makes me feel… owned. In a gross way,” Karl explains desperately. “And, and I thought I could just get over it but clearly I can’t because I saw that fan and I thought she was cute and then I was just… I was just sure I wasn’t allowed to think that. And then I was angry that I wasn’t allowed to even have my own thoughts in my head anymore and I just… exploded.” Karl swallows, ashamed that he lost control of himself like that. But he hopes, god, he hopes that something good will come out of it.

“So what I’m trying to ask you is, is this going to be okay? I know this kind of relationship isn’t for everyone and I… I won’t be mad but if that’s the case… then this has to be it, I think,” Karl finishes, finally looking at Sapnap again.

“I don’t want to break up,” Sapnap says immediately. Karl watches him fiddle with the hem of his shirt as he tries to figure out what he wants to say. “And I… I don’t think I would mind if you flirted or kissed other people, as long as I know you still love me.”

“I do,” Karl affirms, gaze softening. That, at least, is a constant. “I do love you, Sapnap. So much.”

“This… this is all new to me. But I think I understand better because you’re right. I… I do have feelings for Quackity. And I know I don’t love you any less. I can’t promise that I’ll never get jealous but I want to try. I want to try with you.”

“Yeah?” Karl asks, heart light for the first time in weeks and weeks. He searches Sapnap’s face for a lie. There isn’t one.

“Yeah,” Sapnap answers.

Karl leans up to kiss him, letting himself enjoy it like he hasn’t been able to. It’s like the first time again, new and exciting and breathtaking and hopeful. The future seems brighter than it has in a long time.

As they pull apart, Karl winks at Sapnap and then grabs Quackity by the collar and kisses him on the cheek.

“Karl!” Quackity squeaks. Sapnap giggles and Karl looks over to see love in his eyes, love for both of them.

And Karl knows that no matter what, they’re in this together now.

Author’s Note: based off the song: I Miss Having Sex But at Least I Don’t Wanna Die Anymore by Waterparks

I wanted to show a different kind of poly representation, as much as I love the classic Karlnapity <3 Lots of the poly people I know have a relationship with their partners that isn't as straightforward as three people being perfect equals in a relationship (not that that's particularly straightforward either) but a relationship shouldn't have rules as long as you talk about it with your partner/partners

I might return to this one day, although the band AU part is super out of my comfort zone, but who knows! :)

[spencersawkward]

switchblade faith//spencer reid - chapter 7

summary: one month after joining the BAU, Clea is still settling in. between solving murders and getting acclimated to DC, the only comfortable thing in her life is her friendship with Dr. Spencer Reid.

relationship: Fem!OC/Spencer

word count: 4.3k

idc if i've used this gif before it's AMAZING and i love it.

masterlist

somewhat unfortunately, Halloween rolls around. between the most intense case of my career and the rest of the ones that have come in, the meaningless holiday has barely crossed my mind. it's only Penny's eager reminder to find a costume that brings it to the front of my mind. I could half-ass it and pick something stupid, but then I would feel bad. everyone else in the office is just so excited about it, I don't want to be a sour influence. 

plus, we deserve to have some fun. 

I decide on a simple costume and on the 31st of October, I find myself in Penelope Garcia's bathroom with a tube of cherry red lip gloss and a somewhat reluctant expression. 

"oh, c'mon." her voice is muffled through the door.

"quick question," I tighten the scarlet string around my neck, looking at myself in the mirror. "how full-out did you go?" 

"baby, you know I only go to the extreme." she quips. I roll my eyes playfully, then open the bathroom door, stepping into the purple hallway with what can only be feigned confidence. 

it's not that I don't look pretty; I think I look good. but it's the sheer silliness of it that makes my walk a little less than proud. I stopped dressing up for Halloween before I hit twelve. and now I'm twirling (at Penelope's command) in a short dress. 

"I'm not even joking, Little Red: you look hot." she says, eyeing me up and down. there's an enormous purple seashell clipped in her blonde curls, sparkles all over her skin. she looks exactly like herself-- beautiful and whimsical in every aspect. 

"thanks." I blush. 

"come show us!" JJ calls from the living room. Emily would be with us, but she said she had to run an errand beforehand. I glance at Penelope once and widen my eyes. why am I so nervous? I'm acting like a child. 

"go on, then!" Pen practically shoves me forward and I stumble a bit in my heels before walking out of the hallway and making my grand entrance by the couch. JJ is holding an enormous bowl of popcorn, dressed like Britney Spears. her jaw drops. 

"do a spin!" she squeals. I do so, and the red cape flutters around me like the petals of a blooming flower. she sets the bowl down, claps. "I love it!" 

"thanks." when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror on her wall, my cheeks are rosy. my hair tumbles over my shoulders and the cut of my dress is a bit low, but the cleavage is actually kind of a good addition. red ribbon falls just to my décolletage, a slight tease. 

"we should head out soon, though," JJ checks her phone. "wouldn't want Hotch to leave by the time we arrive."

"is he even coming?" I ask. 

"said he would. Pen made quite the case for herself." JJ pops a kernel into her mouth and I look to the tech analyst, who has a mischievous smirk on her candy pink lips. she raises an eyebrow. 

"I told him I'd bring candy corn."

"seriously?" I can't keep the surprise out of my voice. didn't realize someone that serious could be plied with the promise of candy. 

"yes, now come on." Penny scoops up her purse, which is shaped like a giant pearl, and goes to her cabinet to grab the candy corn. before long, we're out the door, chattering aimlessly on our way to the office. 

when we get there, I start to get nervous. although I'm not sure why, I get self-conscious about my dress and hood, about the secret black garter around my thigh. it's my personal secret, something I wore for myself. 

there are a few decorations up. some people from around the office are talking, and everyone is dressed to the nines. Garcia opens the door for me and I head straight for Emily's desk, where the rest of the team is gathered. Rossi works his way through a handful of hard candies in his palm. Emily is stunning in her black cat costume.  

"hey, you guys." she breaks into a grin when she sees JJ and Pen and me, the rest of the group parting to look at us. my eyes snag on Spencer, with his Frankenstein mask resting on the top of his head so he can talk normally. even Hotch is pleased to see the three of us. 

"thanks, Garcia!" he cheers as she hands him the bag of candy corn. 

"you know, you're lucky he left the house for that." Rossi raises his eyebrows and points at the unit chief. 

"oh, we know." JJ smirks. 

"you look great!" Emily gives each of us a hug. she smells like something slightly spicy and warm, a nice scent that makes me want to hold on tighter. I don't know how to explain it; Prentiss has a very calming presence to me. I always find myself hanging around her whenever I need to decompress after cases, even if it just means talking about regular life. 

"you do, too!" I grab a handful of caramel corn from the bowl she offers. "it looks pretty nice in here, actually." 

"don't sound so surprised. think we couldn't handle a few decorations and snacks?" Rossi questions. it's getting easier to be around him now, honestly. despite my initial hesitance about his seniority, he's never made me feel small for my lack of experience in this specific field. 

"she's against the whole holiday." Garcia makes a face as she berates me. Spencer shakes his head like I'm insane.

"that's not true!" I protest. "I never said I was against it, I just don't get why people are so excited about Halloween every year." 

"because it's fun." Spencer speaks up. I roll my eyes. 

"I'm not convinced." 

"well, I'm glad you said so, because I've actually planned a little activity for us!" Garcia is practically bursting with excitement as she says it, like she's been holding it in the whole evening. she probably has. 

my stomach twists. to be honest, I had been hoping for a relaxing evening and then an early night. an "activity" sounds like it'll interrupt those plans. but she's so elated that I can't help smiling. 

"what is it?" Prentiss feigns wariness. 

"well," Garcia simpers in a way that makes me think we're in for an interesting night. "I took the liberty of hiding certain candies around the office last night before we went home." 

"hiding them?" JJ repeats with a smirk. 

"in little plastic pumpkin cases. they're absolutely adorable, like Easter egg size--" 

"you're sending us on an Easter egg hunt?" Rossi looks at her disbelievingly. I let out a nonplussed noise. Penelope is ready to defend herself, however, pointing a finger at him and sounding as firm as she can manage. 

"it's going to be cute, dammit. whoever gets the most candies gets a special surprise at the end." 

"what's the surprise?" Emily asks. 

"it wouldn't be a surprise if I told you, now would it?" Penelope replies. 

there's a silence in the circle as we all try to figure out how to react. it's childish, for sure. nobody is arguing that point; but it also sounds kind of not that bad to me.

"oh come on, guys!" she addresses our lack of enthusiasm. "we've had a hard couple of weeks. let's at least try and have some fun." 

JJ starts to laugh, putting her arm around the tech analyst's waist while she snuggles into her shoulder. 

"if it'll make you happy, Pen." 

"it will!" Garcia nods vigorously and turns to us. I catch myself breaking into a smile. there are much worse things than going on a Halloween candy hunt, especially given the usual circumstances of being in the office. 

"alright!" I throw up my hands and Emily is next to concede. Spencer has been quiet this whole time, but he straightens up from his usual slouching position and tries to hide the grin spreading over his lips. Rossi and Hotch glance at each other. 

"alright." the Italian shrugs. 

"what do we have to do, then?" I ask. 

"well, there are a bunch of pumpkins hidden all over. you'll know them when you see them." she clasps her hands together. "I'm timing you, too, so you're going to have half an hour." 

"wait a second," Emily frowns. "what if some of the other people who aren't in on it find the candies first?" 

there's a sound of general assent from all of us. we aren't the only employees here. Penelope doesn't seem bothered by this, however. 

"then I guess you'd better move fast." she pulls out her phone and presses a button, and we disperse with a quickness that really does make me feel like a kid again. I never did Easter egg hunts as a child, but this is a welcome distraction. low stakes competition. 

I start to wander around, starting at my desk. there's a pumpkin behind my computer monitor, and one in my desk drawer, although that's it for my personal workspace. my feet carry me to other place around the office, my fingers trailing over the tops of cabinets and under desks. Penelope sits in Prentiss' chair with a sucker-- a smug, luminous mermaid as she watches all of us scramble. 

"you got Hotch to search for hidden candy. impressive." I pass her on my way to Anderson's desk. she hasn't hidden anything in too private a place, but maybe there's something in his paperclip dish. 

"I'm a witch." she wiggles her brows. 

"I thought you were a mermaid." I wink. she grabs the hem of my dress and tugs on it. 

"just go find your candy, silly." 

"is there anything in Hotch's office?" I nod towards the almost intimidating room. her eyes flicker around to see who might be around us. fortunately, everyone is too wrapped up in their current task to even look our way. I look like I'm just wasting time. 

"you didn't hear it from me," she whispers. "but yes." 

a sparkle of satisfaction burns in my chest.

"love you, Penny." I make my way towards the office. the door is shut and the actual usual inhabitant of it hasn't gone inside, so he must have overlooked the idea that Garcia would hide candy in there. I'm sure they'll be easy finds, too, since she's terrified of crossing any boundaries with him and wouldn't press her luck by touching his things. 

I head over to the couch by the door and see a plastic pumpkin resting on the table next to it, nestled between the wall and the surface. 

"ha!" I snatch the thing up, then keep poking around. there's another one on the bookshelf. without anywhere else to put them, I put the found objects in the hood of my cape, dropping them in before moving onto the next. 

I'm under the desk when I hear the door get pushed open slightly more. my head pops up from the inconspicuous spot and there's Reid, pockets stuffed while he peers around the space. 

"hey." I say. he jumps when he sees me kneeling on the floor. 

"oh, hi," he frowns. "why are you on the ground?"

I grab the little orange pumpkin package that's tucked against one of the desk legs, then show him smugly. "winning." 

"how many do you have?" he pretends to be curious, but I can sense an undercurrent of competitiveness. I stand and shrug. he eyes my costume to see if I have any spots that hint at a candy stash. he doesn't think to check the hood of my cape. 

"that's for me to know and you to find out." 

Spencer squints briefly. "are you secretly good at this?" 

"am I?" I raise my eyebrows. "don't try to profile me, Reid." 

"I'm not profiling you!" he lets out one of those rare laughs, the musical sound that lives in his throat. I wish he would laugh more; there's something kind of cute about his face when he does. 

"mhmm." I say doubtfully and come to stand in front of him. "let's see it, then." 

"see what?"

"what you have so far." I say the words and he immediately places his hands over his pockets. 

"no way! you didn't show me yours." he protests quickly. I wrinkle my nose. 

"oh come on, Reid." I roll my eyes. "if you show me yours, I'll show you where I keep mine." 

he watches me skeptically again. "why?" 

"because I think we could be allies." 

there's a silence after the suggestion. truthfully, the idea just popped into my head. we could win pretty easily, though, if we coordinate.

"really?" the corners of his lips flicker upwards. he's unsure whether or not he should give in.

"are you kidding? with your smartness and my generally conniving nature, we could really do some damage." I tease. he giggles. 

"I've never heard someone describe themselves as conniving." 

"call it self-awareness," I smirk. "are you in or not?" 

he glances behind him at the bullpen, our friends still searching for the pumpkin packages while Garcia twists a pen between her fingers. when she wants to, she can look intimidating. I raise an eyebrow and wait for Spencer's response. his face turns to mine. those irises are such a pretty shade. 

"okay." 

"alright, boy genius!" I cheer, then reach up to undo my cape. he looks slightly panicked for a second as I undo the red ribbon, but relaxes when I grab the hood and show him the stash of pumpkins. "see?"

it’s crammed with orange packages.

“that's pretty smart." he admits with an impressed smile.

"right?" I agree. "come on, then. I think I've practically swept this place clean." 

he follows me out the door in our search. 

...

by the time the thirty minutes are up, Spencer and I have made shocking progress in consolidating our supply. we've decided that if we beat everyone, we'll share the surprise. if it's something we can't split, we'll rock-paper-scissors for victory (two out of three, of course). but I'm not too concerned about it. 

when we wander over to Penelope's spot at the desk, we're practically strutting. 

"someone's confident." she notes. I take my cape off again and slam the thing down on the surface. Spencer has an amused look on his face. 

we ended up spending a lot of time arguing about the best spots to hide candy, though I mostly let him take the lead— in terms of hiding places, he's been here longer and knows more than I do. and, unrelated, but he's pretty funny when he's not busy thinking about a case. his references are a little nerdy, but I kind of enjoy listening to the explanations. 

"we kicked ass." I cross my arms over my chest and Spencer nods. everyone around us is suspicious; JJ points between us. 

"did you two team up?" 

"maybe." I glance at Spencer, who's already looking at me to gauge my reaction to the question. 

"that's cheating!" JJ laughs. Spencer shakes his head. 

"actually, Garcia never laid out any formal rules for the game."

"mhmm!" I nod in agreement, grateful to have him there with his factual authority. JJ sighs, but nobody can stay mad at Spencer. we share a grin before Emily eyes the separate piles on the desk. 

Garcia went out of her way to hide a lot of treats. that said, it's clear that the combined amount from Reid and me beats out everyone else's. we high five once she announces us the official winners. 

"what's our prize?" Spencer asks as everyone lightheartedly boo's our victory. 

"a gift card to that new fried chicken place that we ordered from a while ago." Garcia presents a shiny plastic card to me. it's a great treat, honestly, becuase I'm hungry and takeout is one of my favorite things in the world. 

the team congratulates us on our win and things start to wind down. Hotch makes an excuse to get home and Rossi muses about a pack of cigars that await him. I feel the energy in the office start to dissipate, but now I feel like I'm on a bit of a victory high. I got all dressed up and now everyone wants to leave? disappointing.

as Prentiss and JJ shrug on their coats, I run my fingertip over the edge of the gift card. Spencer is packing some extra books into his bag. he told me to keep the gift card and that it wasn't a big deal, but I don't feel right not sharing. especially not when we didn’t rock-paper-scissors for it.

"Reid." I walk over to his spot, lean against the desk. he glances up in surprise. 

"yeah?"

"do you wanna share this with me?" I wave the reward in the air. his brows draw together for a fraction of a second. he seems confused. 

"right now?" 

"sure, why not?" I gesture to the bullpen, which is emptying quickly. "it's not even that late." 

he checks his watch as if to confirm my assertion, then stuffs his slim wrists into his pockets and stares at me for a second. I start to get the sense he’s going to say no, and something in me sinks. his tongue darts out over his bottom lip. he's got his mouth open a lot. "y-yeah, that sounds fun." 

I nod at the good news. "okay, cool. I'm too lazy to actually drive there, so I'll just order delivery?"

"okay." he gives me a small smile while I pull out my phone to call the place. I'm a little bit glad that it's just us. 

...

"try it." I pop the plastic cover off the sauce cup before setting it next to him. 

"that looks gross." Spencer shakes his head quickly through a mouthful of food. my jaw drops and I snatch the sauce right back, dipping the chicken into it and taking a hefty bite. 

"it's literally the perfect combination of salty and smooth." I protest. Reid looks dubious, however, and leans his head back against the side of the desk. we started the evening in the swivel chairs, but we're both fidgety at heart and now we're on the floor. 

he takes a swig of his drink. "I never knew lemonade could taste so good." 

"same." I laugh. "can I have your sauce thing, then?" 

he responds by dismissively pushing the thing over to me. we're sitting side-by-side, and somehow I think that's easier for him. we don't have to look each other in the eyes as we talk. 

"I'm proud of us." I announce. Spencer snorts. 

"why?" 

"we found so much candy! which we can now eat for dessert." I reach up to grab my cape off my desk, and the hood thuds to the ground. 

"we're a good team." he says it lightheartedly. Spencer is right, though; we work really well together on cases. it makes sense that it would translate into candy hunts. he's way smarter than I am, but it functions well. 

"we should do the Amazing Race." 

"I don't think either of us would like that." he takes a bite of his fry and I finish up the last of my chicken. 

"you wanna hear a secret?" my head turns to his. 

"what?" he reciprocates. his features appear especially delicate right now, almost suspended. I can see a darkness in his lids that contradicts the youth of his mien. I'm so close, I could kiss his nose if I wanted to. I don't, but I could. 

"aside from the team aspect, I don't really know what the Amazing Race is." I giggle. Spencer breaks into a laugh and turns away again, filling the office with the sound. I blush.

"then why did you bring it up?" his voice gets slightly high-pitched when he tries to speak through it. 

"I don't know, I feel like people say that all the time." 

"nobody has ever asked me to be in the Amazing Race with them." Spencer is still giggling when he looks over at me. I bite my lip before asking the thing that plagues me. 

"so, what is it?"

"the Amazing Race?"

"no, Newton's Laws." I deadpan. "yes, the Amazing Race." 

he throws his hands up and I chuckle. he straightens. 

"it's a reality game show where they race to travel the world." 

"that's it? no stats for me, genius boy?" I gesture for him to elaborate. Spencer shrugs. 

"I don't really care about reality shows." 

"you don't--" I blink exaggeratedly, as if the fact is shocking. "you don't care about reality shows?"

"we get enough reality here as it is."

"oh, Spence...." I sigh. "there are few things faker than reality tv."

"why do you like them?" he's genuinely curious. I see the glimmer of the Work Spencer with which I've become familiar. always trying to get under the surface, digging for answers even when they don't seem immediately relevant. 

"I like to turn my brain off sometimes, you know?" I close the lid of my food and take a drink of my lemonade while I wait for him to respond. although he doesn't look at me as he nods, I can tell he understands what I mean. if anything, he knows the feeling better than I do. 

"yeah, I get that." 

"everyone just acts really stupid and they care way too much about things that usually, like, don't even matter. it's sort of comforting in a weird, depressing, god-I'm-glad-that's-not-me way." 

"that's interesting," he peeks over at me for just a second. "you know, there's actually been studies done that show people with higher annual incomes suffer from higher levels of depression and anxiety."

"I believe it." I make a noncommittal sound and reach into the hood of my cape to grab a piece of candy. with the movement, I shift and the hem of my dress lifts enough to expose the garter on my thigh, and the object tucked within it. Reid's eyes pass briefly over me, but he does a double-take when he sees the thing. 

"is that--?" he points at my leg. I hitch up the garment a little so I can remove the knife that's been pressed to my thigh the whole evening. 

"a weapon? yeah, technically." I chuckle. Spencer's jaw drops in disbelief. even as I hold it in my hands, he seems afraid to touch it. 

it's not really a weapon. I got it from one of my friends as a gift a while ago, a lovely little resin dagger that's filled with red flower petals and gold flakes. it glints under the office lights. 

"you're really not supposed to have that in here." he gulps, glances up at the corners of the room, where I'm sure security cameras are mounted. I hand it to him, pressing the blade into his palm. 

"then stop looking at all the cameras so suspiciously." I scoff. he turns a bit to look at the thing, tilts the edges under the glow to examine it with a strange expression. his long, elegant fingers move over the handle.  

"where did you get this?" 

"it was a present. it's not dangerous." I shrug. the edges are pretty dull; it's more of a decorative piece. I would equate its actual risk level to that of a particularly pointy pen. 

"why did you bring it?" he hands it to me gingerly, our hands touching briefly before I slide it back into the garter on my thigh. his eyes follow my movements, and something in my stomach flips unexpectedly. 

"I collect them." 

"knives?" he doesn't seem taken aback, only interested, judging by the way he frowns quizzically. I nod and face him.

"yeah. I started as a kid, but I have a whole variety of them-- antique, new, ornate, plain-- I love 'em all." I explain enthusiastically. Spencer opens his mouth and I realize that he must have a million questions. he always has a million questions. 

"why knives?" 

I pull my mouth to the side of my face. it's not like there's some deep, dark reason behind my predilection for collecting sharp objects. and I’ve tried to answer that question myself, always coming up empty. some things people just... like. "I don't know." 

like I've put a damper over the conversation. 

"o-oh." Spencer's eyes drop into his lap, where he's been fidgeting with his hands for the past couple minutes. he thinks I'm withholding, that he's crossed some sort of line. my heart sinks. 

"I'm serious, Reid-- I don't know." I laugh it off. "I just think they're cool the same way that you think math is cool." 

"math is cool." he looks up for a second to smile. I nudge his shoulder with mine. his slight frame means he almost tips over and I laugh.  

"hard disagree, but sure."

Spencer stretches his legs out before him, and I'm reminded of how tall he is. he's prone to slouching, so it's easy to forget that his body is actually pretty lengthy. when he taps his Converse together absently, I notice the different colors of his socks. one has watermelon slices and the other has the Road Runner on them.  

"I like your mask, by the way." I compliment. 

"oh, you mean this?" he tugs the thing down over his face. it's gruesome, really, tinged green with baggy skin below the eye holes. I make a disgusted face and push his shoulder away from me.  

"ew!" 

"something wrong?" he uses a funny monster voice when he says it, wiggling his fingers playfully. I cackle. he’s never done that.

"god, that thing is ugly." 

Spencer removes the mask again, a ghost of a grin on his face. for all of his shyness, he's enjoying himself right now. 

we sit there in silence for a bit, cracking open the plastic pumpkin packages that Garcia has stuffed with all sorts of candy. we trade jelly beans like currency, blue raspberry for orange and anything remotely citrus-flavored that he loves. he doesn't mind taking them from my open palm, which fills me with a strangely warm feeling. 

I realize that there's more to Spencer's anxiety than germs, a thin layer of something that he lays between each person and himself. we don't talk about weighty subjects; we aren't friends like that-- not yet, anyway. but I'm glad that he feels alright with this kind of proximity.