#and then they were talking about my last colors brown and red and this coworker who has red got brought in

[lilgynt]

i want to blow up my coworkers BRAIN

[somber-sapphic]

Flu in the FBI

〘Prompt 7 (day 8, oops)- "You're a jerk when you're sick.〙

〘Notes- Yeah, I was going to post this yesterday but I only finished it a few minutes ago. I'm probably just going to write as I have time for now, but I'll do my best to keep up with this month! Excuse the title, it's bad. Also for the editing, it doesn't exist :,)〙

〘Summary- Morgan really can't take a hint.〙

〘Word Count- 1.2k〙

〘Pairing- JJ x Sick Emily (CM)〙

〚Main Masterlist〛⌶〚Sicktember Masterlist〛

“Come on Prentiss, just a quick game!” Morgan teased, throwing a sugar packet at the brunette’s head. Emily didn’t even look up to register the “attack”, she just continued to power through her paperwork with gritted teeth.

The game he was talking about was a version of basketball in which they would try to throw as many sugar packets into a paper cup as they could in a minute. The loser usually had to take a portion of the winner’s paperwork. It was something they often did to lighten the mood of their dreary workplace.

Normally, the former Interpol agent would’ve taken him up on the challenge, but she didn’t have the energy. The slight cold she’d felt developing on the second day of the case had turned into a full-on bout of the flu, and it was kicking her ass.

Another packet of sugar smacked her on the head, but she ignored it, focusing instead on making sure her letters were even slightly recognizable. Her hands had grown progressively shakier throughout the last few hours, turning her already messy handwriting into chicken scratch.

���Not tonight, Morgan.” Emily croaked, stifling a sneeze. She was secretive about it, in fact someone who didn’t know her well wouldn’t have noticed. Reid, who was standing slightly to the side of her, only knew that she had sneezed because of the quick tensing in her shoulders and the slight bob of her head. The woman had mastered the art of being discreet.

“What, scared you’ll lose?” Derek taunted, a gloating edge to his voice. Had he been paying attention he would’ve seen the reddening around Emily’s nostrils, the glassy tint to her typically sharp brown eyes, and the ghastly pale shade of her skin. Most of the color in her face was coming from the red spots on her cheeks that had come with the spike in her fever.

 “I said no.” She snapped back, her words more clipped despite the congestion. Her patience for his antics was wearing thin and she had no energy for his lighthearted teasing. Deep down the BAU agent knew that her friend meant no harm, but this illness had her short tempered and miserable. As soon as she had completed her work she planned to drive home and sleep until she was free of this illness.

“Nah, I get it. You don’t want to make a fool out of yourself in front of Spencer. Don’t worry princess, I don’t think he cares.” It may have been his own exhaustion not letting him notice Emily’s poor mood, but it didn’t matter. He had pushed her over the edge, and she wasn’t going to hold back.

“Morgan. I said no. I do not want to play your stupid game; I want to finish my fucking work and then I want to go home. What part of that isn’t clear to you?” She slammed her hands onto her desk and glared at him, trying to muster the scariest look she could. It was hard to look menacing with a runny nose, but Emily pulled it off.

The tall man stood there in shock, not having expected such a strong reaction. His confusion turned to worry as he finally realized just how sick his coworker was, but that quickly shifted to frustration. He was annoyed with himself for not noticing and annoyed with Emily for her tone. Sure, he had deserved it, but no one liked to be talked to like that.

“You’re a jerk when you’re sick.” He grumbled, walking back to his own desk.

“Oh, I’mthe jerk? You were throwing shit at my head!” Oops. He hadn’t meant for her to hear that. Emily was fuming and, more embarrassingly, felt like she was about to start crying. The stern words of her mother rang in her head, demanding that she keep her emotions in check. She could cry when she got back to her apartment.

“Hey, what’s going on over here?” JJ asked, appearing out of seemingly nowhere. Apparently the two had been louder than they realized, they had attracted a crowd. Garcia had emerged from her Bat Cave and even Hotch was hovering by the door to his office, surveying his troops.

Rossi was probably deep into his glass of Whiskey by now and couldn’t care less about the happenings of his team as long as they weren’t actively trying to kill each other.

“Nothing.” Emily whispered, sitting back down at her desk. If JJ got involved, she was going to coddle Emily and that, while a tempting idea, wouldn’t let Emily get her work done.

Unlike the others, JJ wasn’t about to let this go. She could see that not only was her girlfriend sick, but she was much sicker than she was letting on. The blonde had noticed it first when Emily had fallen asleep on the plane, but she was secretly hopeful that it was just the lack of rest during the case.

Now it was clear that it wasn’t simple tiredness, her beautiful lover was sick. JJ sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to keep her frustration at bay. She could already tell that Morgan felt bad, but in the short run that didn’t really matter. For now, she needed to get Emily home and get the fever under control.

“Alright. Em, pack your stuff. And one of you,” She jabbed her finger at Morgan and Reid, “is finishing her work. I’ll pay you back later.” The media liaison was not looking for an argument, she had said that they were doing Emily’s paperwork so they would be doing Emily’s paperwork.

“Jayje, I’m fine. I’m almost done anyway.” The brunette protested weakly, no fight behind her words. There was a very good chance that she would be dragged home, and she’d realized that she would be more than okay with that.

“Shush, you look awful,” JJ’s face softened as she looked down at the slightly pathetic woman and she reached out to stroke her cheek. It wasn’t often they showed affection in the workplace.

Even though their relationship had been approved by Hotch, the rest of the team hadn’t been told about it. Being profilers, they had probably figured it out, but no one would say anything until the two felt comfortable.

“Let’s go hun, I’ll make sure Hotch knows.” She said gently, holding out a hand Emily. The brunette hesitated for only half a second before taking JJ’s soft hand and standing with her purse over her shoulder.

With their fingers tangled together, the two women walked toward the exit and entered the elevator. As soon as the two were alone Emily dropped her head onto her girlfriend’s shoulder and coughed painfully into her hand. It sounded like she had been suppressing the fit for a while, and just let it run its course as her body shook from the force.

“Oh sweetheart. Why didn’t you say anything?” She murmured, brushing her lips across Emily’s hot temple. The brunette radiating heat and shivering simultaneously. JJ was itching to get her ill girlfriend home and into a warm bed.

“We were working.” Emily sighed, her voice raw and gravely. She shifted closer to the blonde, beginning to fall asleep standing up and JJ couldn’t help but smile. The woman she loved may be a workaholic, but at least she listened when told to. Well, to JJ anyway.

〖Join My Taglist!〗 @lots-of-pockets @bloomingflowersthings @lovelyy-moonlight @scrambled-brain-eggs @juststuckhereforever @chairhere @iliketozoneout @villaneve4life @goldenempyrean

[megamindsecretlair]

Get To Know Me Tag Game

Thank you for the tag @nerdieforpedro 😚 for anyone who cares, here's a bit about me! 🥹

General rule: I may overshare in dms and authors notes sometimes but Im generally a private person 🤣 to the point Ive lost friends over it. ive been working with my coworkers for 3 years and they dont know shit about me 🤣 I juss really love yall and feel safe with yall so here we go!

1. Were you named after anyone?

No. My mom didnt want our names to announce who we were on applications so we all got regular smegular names. My name is of Irish origin so my yt folks customer service voice got ppl thinkin I have red hair. I mean....technically yes but its buried under my braids 🤣

2. When was the last time you cried?

At the end of The Marvels. The first end credit had me in real, actual tears. On a more serious note, I last cried before my grandma died. Yall, its fn hard being a caretaker. I was not built Ford Tuff.

3. Do you have kids?

*ahem* 🗣🗣 fuck no! 🤣🤣🤣 I dont even have nieces or nephews. Kids make me nervous and Im pretty sure they can smell the fear on me. 🤣

4. What sports do you play/ have you played?

I played basketball and softball in HS. I love and miss softball all the time even though my big behind HATES running.

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Sarcasm is one of my love languages. I put that shit on everything 🤣 Physical Touch is my main one since we sharing.

6. What is the first thing you notice about people?

Ooof, tough. Depends. Some quirk like glasses, lisp, moles. How they walk/talk, the way they laugh. I am a lurker by trade. Overly shy kid and writer by nature will do that to ya.

7. What is your eye color?

Dark brown. When that sun hits 🫠🫠🫦

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

I am a HUGE scaredy cat. I dont do scary movies nothin! Happy endings over here! 🤸🏽‍♀️ I will enjoy a thriller but only behind my hands and mostly starring Matthew Lillard.

9. Any talents?

.....no? I have a bunch of useless knowledge or trivia that no one asked for but ya gonna get 🤣 . Juss realized writing is considered a talent 😭 so that too 🤣

10. Where were you born?

US, West Coast baybeee

11. What are your hobbies?

Obvs, writing. Reading, sewing, cons, tarot, tv, listening to music, video games (xbox, switch, PC girlie) , Marvel. Marvel is a hobby. I will talk your ear off. That is both a threat and a promise 😚

12. Do you have any pets?

I have two gorgeous Boston Terriers who run me into the ground every day. Idk why my mom thought two was okay 🫠🫠 my Black ass tide 🥲 👏🏽

13. How tall are you?

Fun sized 5'3 and a half 👏🏽👏🏽🤣 pear shaped. I got ass for days but in the itty bitty titty committee. 😭😭😭😭😭

14. Favorite subject in high school?

Definitely English. My English teacher was so fine 🥲🥲 thats not WHY it was my fave but can ya blame me 😩 I loved reading the books but I hated the themes they shoved down our throats. What if that wasnt MY interpretation of the book??? Hmmm? Some faves include: Their Eyes Were Watching God (Teacake 🥵🥵🥵), Brave New World, Bright Lights Big City (probably where my love of second person is from) , Bronx Masquerade, and The Outsiders. And FUCK the Great Gatsby. If I hear about that damn green light one 👏🏽 mo 👏🏽 fn 👏🏽 time 👏🏽😩😡 and FUCK Of Mice and Men, he aint have to do all that in the end. And DOUBLE FUCK I Know Why the Caged Bird sings. Turned my stomach when she described the SA. Lemme stop 🥴

15. Dream Job?

Writer. I will publish, I will be successful, and I will live the life I want. I claim it 😩 on my Octavia Butler, NK Jemisin, Danielle Allen shit 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽

Whew! That was fun 😭🤣

No pressure tags: @mybonafidefeelings @bratzmaraj @braverthanthenewworld @multiversefanfics @chaos-4baby @westside-rot @saturn-rings-writes @notapradagurl7 @wide-nose-and-wonderful @blowmymbackout @blackerthings @harmshake @targaryenvampireslayer and who wants to do one. I love learning bout my moots.

[littlestloves]

Looking in your eyes these last few days was so intense for me. They’re a deep red-brown color, but when I locked eyes with you, I saw how much your pupils dilated more than usual. I’m not sure I want to know what you see when you’re looking in my eyes. I have noticed a massive shift when you look at me sometimes though. It makes it hard to breathe correctly in your presence.

On Friday especially, though.. there was just so much tension. At least for me.

During one of our conversations, we were talking about Jayron & Saira, you said “Gotta shoot your shot.” But it felt like a loaded comment, so I said “The worst they can say is no.” And you agreed with me. But the way you look at me literally drives me crazy. It felt lustful, but I know you well enough to know the care you have for me is genuine. So if there’s any levels of lust, it’s combined with other things, too.

You’ve made jokes & references about our conversation where I was showing Jenna sex toys. You said “when you were going off about it, I was like, ‘Damn. This girl is really down with this shit’” I couldn’t look at you, I just smiled shyly and said “it was educational.” You laughed, “Sureee it was Jordan”

I can’t help thinking, “what an interesting way to say you think about me touching myself”😂

Then of course there’s conversations where my innocence has been determined false. You said “Nah, after that conversation on that first day, you’re definitely not innocent.” I looked away from you and said “I guess we’ll never know.” You responded with “We’re going to be working together for a while, I’m sure we’ll find out eventually.”

But the way you look at me now.. I could just sink into you & get lost there. I want you. But it’s not even just sexually, at all. I want to just make you happy, and complete. Honestly.. I’m not sure exactly what it is about you.

Something about you just completely consumes me. My common sense, my intuition, my mood, my mind, my body.

Ever since Wednesday, it’s like there’s been an abrupt shift in the way you look at me. Maybe part of it was the change in my hair and the fact that my body was more visible. As well as the fact that I told you directly how I felt about you.

Part of me is a little hesitant, because I do feel like some of the reason you’re letting yourself feel these things now, is because you almost lost me. There’s some part of me that feels like you’ve become dependent on me to be your safe space, which is perfectly okay with me. But, I don’t want to feel like I’m taking advantage of your vulnerability with me to leverage a relationship you don’t fully want.

There’s still a part of me that hurts, because of the way you said you hadn’t thought of me as anything outside of a friend and a coworker. I really don’t know whether that was the truth, or if it was a lie. If it was a lie, I don’t understand the motive there. The only way that would have made any sense, was if you were just unsure of how I felt about you. I know you could hear the hurt and sadness I tried to hide in that short conversation. And I know hurting me is the last thing you want, but I also know you’re scared of losing me. I think the level of relief you get from me might be more than you’re willing to lose. But that scares me.. because, when the pain you’re in is finally gone.. will you stay with me?

I don’t want to just be the medicine that makes you feel better, because if that’s all I am, I’m scared I’ll lose you when you no longer need me.

Maybe that’s unfair, but I don’t want you to go.

Having you in my life makes me want to be better as a woman, person, friend, and mom. You inspire me.

Is that what I do for you, too? Is that why you’re willing to shift the dynamic, or even just consider the change?

I just need to know.. what do you want from me?

[donexmiras]

All of the questions for the ask game you reblogged

Putting under a cut for being long

📷 What’s set as your phone’s lockscreen?

Bowser my beloved (couldn't find the original)

🍫 Cheese or chocolate? Chocolate, cheese can sometimes just be straight up gross to me

✨ Do you have any nicknames? I have a few, Kuvvy is the one who started calling me Momo, but my coworkers call me Bluey or Blues clues

🎵 Last song you listened to? Happier in Hell by Royal and The Serpent

✏️ Have you ever written fanfiction? I've tried, I love roleplaying at least, but I have absolutely zero confidence in my writing so

😏 Are you on discord? Yeah, I'm honestly on there a ton more than I'm on here nowadays, I just can't engage with groups much (I don't have much to say)

💛 Do you have any piercings? Used to have my ears pierced but they closed up, but I do have my septum done and I have snakebites with plans for plenty more later down the line

🐰 What do you think says the most about a person? I honestly can't give a straight answer, I just like people who are chill and don't give me an irritated response when they don't understand something right away

🍪 If you were a cookie, what kind would you be? Chocolate chip, I'm basic as fuck

🐶 Are you more of a dog person or a cat person? Cat, I've had dogs, but I've never bonded with them as strongly

🎧 Headphones or earbuds? Headphones a million times over, I can't stand earbuds

🌼 What’s the last thing you said out loud? "Have a good one!" (Was leaving work)

🙃 What’s a weird fact that you know? Maybe not a weird one, but gators can run

🦉 Are you a morning person or a night owl? I'm a night owl who's been conditioned to be a morning person

🧸 Favorite place to nap? My bed 💙

🏳️‍🌈 Are you a member of the LGBTQIA+ community? I've identified as genderfluid for a long time, but within the last year that's changed to being a trans man, and a hella gay one at that ✨🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈 (I still use they/them though, but I don't like when people use it just to avoid calling me he/him)

🦋 Describe yourself in three words. Tired, stubborn, niceys

👖 Jeans or sweatpants? Jeans for outside, sweatpants for inside

🥤 What’s your go-to Starbucks order? Not a Starbucks fan, there's this cafe though I like to order from that has nice ice lattes, I usually get it with caramel cold foam and a few pumps of brown sugar

🧡 A color you can’t stand? Doo doo green

💎 What’s your most prized possession? My laptop, it's been with me for a decade now, it occasionally has its problems but we're ride or die at this point

☕ Coffee or tea? Coffee, though I've been much less obsessed with it nowadays

🦖 Favorite extinct animal? Not dinosaur wise, passenger pigeons, just something about them, otherwise therizinosaurus

🌙 How long have you been on tumblr? Too long (legit answer though probably 5-6 years with an account)

🌴 Desert island item? Cast iron pan, it's multipurpose

🐸 Describe your aesthetic. Spikes, black with bold colors (usually blue and gold), romantic goth in theory, soft boy in practice

🔮 What’s your dream job? Animator, in depth though probably more of a keyframer or storyboard artist

💙 Relationship status? Yoinked

🌿 Describe your favorite outfit. The one I generally wear everyday is usually just a black hoodie and blue jeans with sneakers

🎤 Is there a song you know all the lyrics to? Hm that's a hard one, but I do know the lyrics to Face Down by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus pretty well

🤎 What color is your hair? Currently it's plain ol brown right now since I shaved it again, but I do plan to dye it black again eventually

💌 Do you talk to yourself? I was talking to myself this morning XD it helps me regulate my thoughts more clearly, and helps me vent without the anxiety of oversharing

💄 Do you wear makeup? I used to, but I can't even stand eye makeup on me anymore, so I just go bare face

🌸 Best compliment you ever received? That I am speed, move aside sonic 💅 but also being complimented on my name

💞 @ your favorite blog. This is hella bias cause we talk all the time but @kuvvydraws

[thishintoflove]

“I Think He Knows” - A Kingsman Fanfic

TSwift Songfic Week Day 5

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x M!Reader

Warnings: 18+ Explicit (Pining, dirty talk, hand jobs, oral sex)

A/N: I feel like there’s a lack of M/M in the Pedro cinematic universe fandom, so here’s some bisexual Whiskey having a good time with a fellow male agent.

Summary: You and Agent Whiskey are paired together for an out-of-state mission. On your last night, your pining and his flirting finally come to a head.

I think he knows his hands around

A cold glass

Make me wanna know that body

Like it's mine

The mission was long but you were finally finished with it. Three weeks in Dallas were more than enough for you, and you were looking forward to getting home to your own bed and your own office in Kentucky. You were aching for the privacy it offered, after spending almost a month sharing a hotel room with your fellow agent. This time you’d been paired up with Agent Whiskey, and because of that you were glad the trip was almost over.

It’s not because Agent Whiskey- Jack - was incapable. Quite the opposite. He was extremely efficient and good at his job but he was also… extremely attractive. Which was a huge distraction.

You took pride in being a capable agent but Jack and his pretty face compromised that. You’ve never been in a situation like this before. Lusting over your coworker felt extremely unprofessional, but it was impossible to ignore him. He was an in-your-face kind of guy, always butting in with a comment or joke, always using his body as a weapon. He’d lounge around your shared hotel room in nothing but a thin towel, his wet hair draped across his forehead, and you swear he did it on purpose. The man knew how attractive he was and he obviously loved flaunting it.

He was tall and tan, with soft brown hair, a pair of beautiful round eyes that seemed to sparkle with amusement, and a smile that made your knees weak. The downside was that his smile made just about everyone weak. You were living in your own personal hell. Every single day having to watch Jack be attractive without even trying, and then watch as everyone in his vicinity tried to flirt with him. Tonight he was wearing a black leather jacket and extremely tight jeans, looking more like a movie star than an undercover agent. The man could pull off anything. It’s actually unfair.

You were out at some dive bar, celebrating the end to a successful mission before flying home tomorrow. It was Jack’s idea of course, but you’d agreed because you needed a stiff drink after these three long weeks and honestly you couldn’t say no to him.

“Another round, kid?”

You glanced up and saw him staring at you, a twinkle in his bright eyes. His hand gripped his empty whiskey glass and you eyed your own half-full drink. You couldn’t throw it back like him.

“I’m good for now,” you answered.

He nodded and slapped you on the shoulder as he stood up, “I’ll get you another one anyway. You better finish that by the time I get back.”

You sighed as you watched him walk away. His ass looked fantastic in those jeans. All the training and harsh exercise routines that Champ put the team through really worked for him. No wonder he could get any pretty thing he wanted.

Speaking of which, he seemed to have turned his affections on someone else. You groaned, your eyes never wavering from where Jack stood. He was currently making small talk with the pretty brunette bartender. He was giving her the full Whiskey treatment- gazing at her with those soft, mocha-colored puppy dog eyes and giving her a charming half-grin. Watching him flirt was simultaneously entertaining and torturous. He threw his head back, laughing at some dumb joke the bartender must have said, and you almost growled out loud as you hungrily stared at his neck.

Stupid horny bastard.

He got that boyish look that I like in a man

I am an architect, I'm drawing up the plans

It's like I'm seventeen, nobody understands

No one understands

You were getting really sick of hiding your partial hard-ons and jacking off in the cold shower, but everything the man did was hot. The deep voice and accent alone were enough to get you going on most days. God, you hadn’t felt like this since high school.

If Jack noticed you staring or caught on to the fact that you took extra long showers, he didn’t say anything. You were openly out at the agency and your sexuality wasn’t a secret. When you first joined the Statesmen, you felt you had something to prove at work, as if you had to demonstrate your masculinity by keeping up with the largest members of the team. But you’ve excelled in your role for years now and you were beyond proving yourself at this point. You were just glad that Agent Whiskey wasn’t one of the people who cared that you liked men.

In fact, he treated you just like he treated everyone-- this meant he wasn’t shy about flirting and teasing you. Sometimes it seemed like he was coming onto you, but you had to remind yourself that he was like that with everyone-- you weren’t special and there was no way he was actually interested.

Before falling asleep each night, you’d listen to Jack’s soft snores and run scenarios through your head of every possible way that you could share your feelings. You thought about all of the things you could say, and all of the ways Jack could react. It was agonizing but your analytical mind couldn’t stop. You wished you had the courage to just ask him out. The worst that could happen is he’d say ‘no’ and maybe request to never work with you again, but then at least you’d be free of him.

Wanna see what's under that attitude

Like, I want you, bless my soul

And I ain't gotta tell him

I think he knows

A loud laugh suddenly interrupted your thoughts and you looked over to the bar again. The bartender was giggling and grasping at Jack’s arm. The sight made your stomach turn, and you made a quick decision to get out of there before you had to watch them start making out over the bar.

You stepped up next to Jack and finally drew his attention away from the girl.

“Hey, hold off on my drink. I’m gonna head out,” you told him.

“What? Come on now, it’s so early!”

“Yeah. I just don’t really feel like hanging out anymore. I’ll see you back there.”

Before Jack could respond, you threw down some cash on the bar and turned away. You were already across the floor and on your way out the door when a hand on your arm stopped you.

“Hey. Are you pissed at me or something?”

“No,” you muttered, trying to ignore the shot of arousal you felt when he grabbed you, “I just don’t feel like sitting in the corner, watching you flirt with some chick.”

You tried to turn away from him, but Jack let out a quiet “ohhh” of understanding. His grip on your arm tightened.

“We’ve been on this mission for weeks now, and on our last night you finally decide to say something?” Jack laughed, turning you around so you were facing him again. He invaded your personal space, ducking his head and trailing his nose along your neck and jaw.

“What?” you asked, confused because he couldn’t possibly mean...

“You're so slow, that’s what,” Jack mumbled, his lips tracing along your neck. It felt amazing, but... was Jack- your fellow agent and known womanizer- really nuzzling your neck right now?

“I'm confused, are you really into this?” you asked again, trying to hold back a moan. Jack pulled away and looked at you with huge eyes.

“God, you’re an idiot. I've been sending you obvious signs, makin’ eyes at you and showing off what I got, and now I'm literally biting your neck, and you're still asking?” Jack said incredulously. You searched his face and saw eyes that were filled with desperation and lust.

“I just assumed…”

“I like it both ways, kid. Is that clear enough for you?”

He then took one step forward and kissed you fully on the lips. There was only a moment of shock before you melted into the kiss, pressing your bodies closer and running your hands over Jack’s shoulders and back. All of your worries disappeared then. You didn't feel the terrible anxiety that constantly filled you with dread. Your mind stopped frantically thinking about every possible worst case scenario. Everything stopped. There was only Jack.

“Oh ohhhh right. Yeah I’m an idiot,” you quietly mumbled against his lips, “Want to go back to the hotel?”

“Fuckin’ finally,” he replied with a grin.

Lyrical smile, indigo eyes, hand on my thigh

We can follow the sparks, I'll drive

So where we gonna go?

I whisper in the dark

You weren’t sure how you made it back to the hotel so quickly, but as soon as you tumbled through the door, Jack had you pinned to the bed underneath him. His hands roamed all over your torso, and he pulled the shirt over your head and tossed it aside before quickly doing the same to his own. The room was filled with your little whimpers every time Jack ground his hips against yours. You stared up at him, his lips swollen and red bitten and eyes blown with lust, and you were positive that you looked just as debauched. He looked just as beautiful hovering over you as you’d always imagined, and you wanted to feel him everywhere.

“More,” you whined, canting your hips up into Jack’s.

He groaned and trailed his hands down your chest, his fingers brushing against your nipples, causing a moan to slip from your mouth. He continued his journey down until he reached the fly of your jeans.

“Lift up,” Jack mumbled, leaning in to kiss your neck as he tried to tug your pants down. You obeyed and soon your pants and your boxers were off, leaving you completely exposed.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he moaned, his fingers barely brushing over your erection, “You’re even prettier than I thought, darlin’.”

You groaned, pushing your body closer to Jack’s. As his hand slowly learned the feel of your cock, your own hands wandered all over his body. From his strong shoulders to his muscular back, to his waist, his hips, his thick thighs. You slipped one hand into his jeans to grab his ass, finally getting the chance to touch the part of Jack’s body you’d fantasized about the most. You could feel his clothed erection rubbing against your thigh as Jack continued steadily stroking your cock.

“Jack,” you whimpered, gazing into his dark, lust-filled eyes. You were barely able to control your thoughts properly since Jack’s pace was getting quicker and way too distracting. He grinned down at you.

“This good, baby? You want it a little rougher?” he asked, a groan slipping from his lips as you squeezed his ass in response.

Jack pushed forward and kissed you harder this time, moving his hand faster along your cock. Then he kissed his way down your neck, sucking and nipping all your sensitive spots. Suddenly he bit down hard on the skin between your neck and shoulder, following it up with a long lick with his wide tongue. That show of possessiveness was enough to push you right to the edge. You cried out as pleasure tore through you, coming in ropes all over Jack’s large hand. You gasped for breath, your chest rising and falling as your head lolled against the pillows.

Jack hovered over you, continuing to kiss your neck and upper chest as you came down from your high. “I’ve been told I’m good with my hands, can I get a confirmation on that, darlin'?“ he asked with a cocky grin.

Your eyes blinked open and you smirked at him. “You’ve got the confirmation all over your hand.”

“Ooooh, so he’s mouthy all of a sudden. Guess I just had to get you in bed to see the sassy side of you, huh?” Jack tutted.

“I’ll show you mouthy,” you muttered, blushing at the stupid euphemism even as you trailed a line of kisses down Jack’s sternum and belly.

When you reached the top of his jeans, you surprised your fellow agent by flipping him over and yanking his pants down in one fluid motion. Jack growled at the switch, but when you took his cock into your mouth, he gasped and surged forward. You enjoyed the desperate moan he made as you swallowed him completely, his hips bucking into your mouth. But you wanted to take your time with this. You grasped his hip bone with one hand and held him down, before pulling off his cock and moving to lightly lick his balls. Jack was making beautiful, desperate noises and you loved the idea that this strong, confident agent was falling apart because of you. You smiled against him and swiped your tongue along the bottom of his shaft before taking him fully into your mouth again.

“Holy hell, you’re fuckin’ amazing,“ Jack groaned as you bobbed up and down on his cock, “I’m so close-”

You sucked harder and reached your other hand down to fondle his balls again as Jack thrust into your mouth. Soon he was arching forward and shouting your name. You let him come in your mouth, swallowing his seed down like it was another shot at the bar.

When you looked up at Jack from between his legs, you grinned. He had his head tilted back, one hand thrown across his mouth as he stared at the ceiling, breathing heavily. When he felt your eyes on him, he looked down at you with a satisfied smile.

“Damn, that was…”

“Amazing,” you cut him off, “Even better than I imagined.”

“So you imagined it, huh?”

Unable to control the urge any longer, you leaned forward and pulled Jack into a sweet, affectionate kiss. You ran your fingers through his soft hair and you could feel him grinning the whole time. When you finally pulled back, he was still smiling but he also looked a bit confused.

“Why haven’t we done this sooner?” he asked.

“I was convinced you were straight. I’ve been a fucking mess trying to decide if I should say something or not,” you replied.

Jack hummed and reached for you, but you chuckled and pulled away.

“You need a shower,” you said, “Then we can talk some more.”

“Only if you join me, sugar...”

I want you, bless my soul

I ain't gotta tell him

I think he knows

[foodieforthoughts]

When the ball drops

Summary: It's your third year in the Big Apple and you still haven't found your midnight kiss for when the ball drops, until tonight.

Pairing: Henry x Reader

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: Fluff!!!

A/N: Happy New Year to everyone! ✨ Watching the ball drop on New Year's Eve in Times Square is my ultimate bucket list! Also not beta read, so don't mind the errors, just had to get done in time before @infinite-shite celebrates New Year's before the rest of us! This baby deserves all the love in the world ❤️

*divider by @firefly-graphics

Title: When the ball drops

The cackle of people's laughter ringed through the pub as the hours ticked by. In contrast to the cold winter air of New York, the inside of the enclosed space felt warm. You quickly pulled on your apron and slid behind the bar, relieving your co-worker from their shift. He hugged you for the New Year that was to ring in about an hour later, happily weaving through the crowd towards the staff exit.

You sighed, grabbing the dish cloth to clean some glasses.

The excitement of coming to the Big Apple had quickly died down for you. You had dreamed of living in the city like the various shows potrayed, feeding lies that everything is magical and full of opportunities in this concrete jungle. But you could disagree with all the contradictions between facts and fictions and align them in a PowerPoint presentation. Not only were you yet to secure your dream job, you lived in a mediocre place with little to look forward to everyday.

Another sigh left your lips, your shoulders slumping despite the merriment around.

"That would be the second time you sigh." The crisp accented voice of a stranger sounded from across you. "What's the matter, love?"

You knew who he was. You ogled at his pictures on a regular basis, especially when he became Superman. But he looked nothing like the Henry Cavill you saw on the red carpets. Clad in a plain blue shirt, jaw sprinkled with the hint of a stubble and hair combed to perfection, Henry titled his head at you with a smile. You looked around at the other patrons, unsure if he was talking to you indeed.

Henry chuckled at your look of confusion. He took a seat at the barstool and grabbed the menu from the stand. With a dish cloth still inside the glass tumbler, you stared at the Hollywood heartthrob. The pub you worked at was frequented with celebs on a regular basis, the only downside being you usually worked for the day shift which meant by the time you rolled out of work, the big shots were only just waking up.

"Can I get-"

"Guinness?" You interrupted him. You meant to say it in your head but the word left your mouth before you could control your lips.

But Henry didn't flinch. He just smiled widely, the dimples in his chin dipping charmingly and his eyes shining like the brightest star under the flickering strobe lights. He slid the menu back towards you and clasped his hands together.

You blinked your eyes several times to rid yourself of the flutter in you belly as Henry smiled at you softly. He watched as you got him a glass and filled it up with his beer. Your hands trembled so much with the nervousness of serving an A list actor, who not only was doing well in industry but was exceptionally sexier in person, that you were worried the foam gathered at the top would dribbled down the sides. Noticing your struggle, Henry extended his hands and placed them over yours to secure his glass.

Electricity. In the most clichéd scenarios of romance movies, you felt a jolt of electricity when your hands touched his, the sparks travelling down your spine to your toes. Sucking in a sharp breath you handed him the glass, chiding yourself over your hyper aware mind.

"What is a pretty lady like you working in a bar at this hour?" He asked, sipping his fermented pint of alcohol.

"Coworker has plans with his girlfriend, like everyone tonight." You shrugged your shoulder, going over to another customer ordering drinks. You could feel Henry's eyes on you as you readied the customer's order. The sound of giggling girls pulled your attention just as the man left with his drink.

You walked back to where Henry sat, nursing his beer. "Anything to go with that?" you enquired, rearranging the shot glasses under the bar counter.

"I am still wondering how, in the world, a pretty woman like you, is stuck here."

You scoffed, more to yourself than him. "Because this supposed pretty woman is single as fuck." The mirth in your voice hid the sense of self pity edging at the corners of your mind. It had been three years since you had first arrived in the city with a possibility of reaching for the stars in both personal and professional life. You had been left disappointed with the jerks and assholes you ended up with, ultimately sitting at home and questioning your choices in men.

You noted the softness creasing at the corners of Henry's eyes. The last thing you wanted was to be seen as a miserable bartender at the end of the year, so you cleared your throat and smiled at him. "What is superman doing at a bar, in New York, alone?"

Henry chuckled. His gravelly thick laughter ringing louder than the music in your ears. "I was just stopping by the city, thought I'll stay to understand what the big deal is with the ball drop."

"Oh my God. Watching the ball drop and kissing at midnight is the most romantic thing you can do with your partner. You should be at Times Square!" Your excitement over the whole New Year's Eve shenanigan was flowing through in your speech.

"Too crowded." He shook his head, groaning and sipping his beer.

You rolled your eyes. "As opposed to this cramped pub?"

Henry chuckled again, throwing a wink at you. You felt the familiar flutter in your belly. You peered at him under your lashes, Henry seemed to be having his eyes only for you tonight. The giggling ladies were desperately trying to grab his attention while sipping on their Margheritas wearing their embellished dresses with low cuts and frills. You glanced down at yourself and frowned. Over the faded blue jeans and white t-shirt, you wore the black apron with the pub's insignia on the left breast. You suddenly became profoundly aware of how 'basic' you might look in comparison to the other ladies.

Self doubt clouded your mind. You politely smiled at Henry and hurried to the other side of the bar to serve the other customers. Maybe Henry only wanted someone to play the horizontal hokey-pokey with him for the night, or maybe he was bored and since you were obligated to talk nicely with him, he had pitched a conversation. Whatever the reason, you did not like how the multiple scenarios would end. You knew your feeble, fragile heart. You would get hurt, one way or another.

"Hi," Henry appeared again in front of you. He had his beer in his hand, his other elbow resting on the counter. "Did I offend you in some way?"

"No. But you are pretty much making me realize, how miserable my life is." Your voice sounded bleak against the booming voices. Tucking your hair behind your ear, you watched the couples snuggle up to each other. It had been ages since you had felt the loving embrace of a man, even longer since you had shared a meaningful kiss with someone special.

"What would you have been doing instead?" Henry's voice pulled you out of your desolated reverie.

"I would be in Times Square, with my significant other, which I don't have. We would get some drinks while standing on the outskirts of the crowd and watch the countdown."

There was a stir of activity in the pub as someone announced that there were only 90 seconds to the ball drop. You hadn't even realized that time had passed so quickly whilst you had juggled your conversation with Henry.

"Well, you have the drinks," Henry reached forward to grab a glass and poured half of his beer in the empty tumbler. "We are at the outskirts of the crowd since everyone is huddled near the TV." You nodded as you watched the couples gather near the enormous flat screen mounted on the wall. "We aren't at the Times Square, but we are in New York."

The countdown read 60 seconds with the red numbers counting backwards. Henry stood up and leaned forward on the counter. You watched with bated breath as he grabbed the strap of your apron and pulled you towards him.

His hand rested lightly on your cheek, his thumb grazing your cheekbone. The smell of beer, his perfume and musk enveloped you, bundling you in everything that signified him. You gazed into his cerulean eyes, the fleck of brown going dark against the blue ocean. Your hands hung by your side, flabbergasted by the surprising turn of events.

"I might not be your significant other," His breath washed over your heated face, his eyes transfixed on yours. "But we can perhaps change that."

"Happy New Year!"

Like the fireworks going off on the One Times Square Building, when your lips collided with his, there was a burst of colorful sparks celebrating the union of two people from across the pond. Henry pulled your face closer to his by grabbing behind your head, his fingers threading through your hair. You finally could think straight as you moaned into the kiss, holding onto the collar of his shirt as the pub erupted with loud cheers. In that moment, everything seemed perfect in the world. You felt your legs turn to jelly as Henry pulled back, breathing through his mouth, tugging at your lower lip with his teeth.

The smug smile on his face returned as he sat back on his barstool. You grabbed onto the counter for support as you gulped lungful of air.

"Did that count as something for when the ball drops?" He asked, sipping his beer and watching you from the brim of his glass.

You nodded. The heat on your cheeks traveled down to your chest, a grin spreading on your lips. Biting your lip you reached for the other glass of beer Henry had poured. "Happy new year to me." You announced before clinking your glass with Henry's.

✨HAPPY NEW YEAR GUYS✨

[rax-writes]

Love Letters

Fandom:  Stranger Things Pairing:  Steve Harrington x Reader Warnings:  None Notes:  Once again, I thank @mxgyver​ for the inspiration. It appears that we’re both suckers for mutual pining. ♥

As you waved goodbye to your two best friends and left Scoops Ahoy, Robin watched Steve intently. She took note of the goofy, love-struck smile on his face, and the way he blatantly stared at your ass as you walked away, and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Steve asked, redirecting his attention from you to his coworker – but only after you were completely out of his line of sight, not wanting to miss a second of his opportunity to admire you.

“You’ve got it bad, Harrington,” Robin observed, still chuckling.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve said, shrugging with feigned nonchalance as he leaned against the counter.

“Sure you don’t,” Robin responded sarcastically, rolling her eyes. “You need to just ask her out already.”

“Why? Do you think she’d say yes?” Steve asked quickly – a bit too quickly – which caused Robin to start laughing again. “Hey, I’m serious! You’ve been friends with her for way longer than I have. If anybody would know whether or not she likes me, it’d be you. So, come on, spill the beans.”

Steve wasn’t wrong. You and Robin had been best friends since middle school, but you had only recently befriended Steve, after you’d both gotten wrapped up in the Demodogs / Upside Down situation last fall. And yes, she definitely knew how you felt about him – specifically the ginormous crush you’d developed on “King Steve.”

Before now, Robin never would have pictured the two of you together. You used to be more of the nerdy type, preferring to keep to yourself and your few friends, whereas Steve was one of the most popular kids in high school. But now that she knew Steve outside of school, and from seeing how the two of you interact with one another – she thought you were the perfect pair.

“Well, obviously, I would be a terrible best friend if I were to, as you say, ‘spill the beans,’” Robin began, using air quotes to reference his previous comment.

“So there are beans to spill,” he noted, sounding excited.

Ignoring him, Robin continued, “However, I will say this: You remember that teddy bear you gave her earlier this year? That tiny, little red one?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, smiling warmly at the memory. “She wouldn’t admit it, but she was kind of sad because nobody sent her one of those dumb, anonymous carnations on Valentine’s Day at school, and everybody else had gotten at least one. So I ditched last period to run to the store and get her something, and that bear was pretty much all they had left. It wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, but she seemed to like it. She’s probably thrown it away by now, though.”

“She sleeps with it every single night.” Robin watched as Steve’s eyebrows raised slightly in surprise. “And the carnation you got? With the little note that said “I think you’re perfect”? That was from her.”

“What?!” he exclaimed, his jaw dropping. “There’s no way! I thought – I hoped it was her, so I compared her handwriting to the note, but it didn’t match!”

“That’s because she had me write it for her, so you wouldn’t know it was her.”

“Why didn’t she want me to know?” Steve asked, sadness tinting his voice. “I’d have asked her out on the spot.”

“I asked her the same thing, but she was adamant that you didn’t see her that way at all. She was worried that things between you would get weird if you knew the note was from her, but she still wanted to get it off her chest in some way, even if it was in secret.”

“Wow,” he murmured, staring at the ground in shock. “She’s the smartest girl I know, but she’s somehow so clueless…. I’ve been in love with her for months.”

“Well, I’ve said too much already, but I’ll reiterate: you need to ask her out already,” Robin stated, and Steve just nodded, lost in thought as he continued to stare blankly at the tile floor. After a couple seconds, he abruptly looked up at her, and she could practically see the lightbulb going off in his head.

“I know just the thing.”

Steve called you right when his shift ended at 4:00 PM, and asked you to come pick him up, claiming that his car wasn’t running and he needed a ride home. When you got there, he was waiting for you outside the mall, having changed out of his work uniform into a sweater and jeans (and touched up his hair, of course). He jogged over to your car just as you parked, and waved for you to roll down your window.

“Hey, before we go, would you mind coming in with me? There’s something I want to show you.”

If it had been anyone else, you might have said no, that you're tired and you'd rather just go home. But this was Steve, and he was looking at you with those big, brown puppy-dog eyes. So, you smiled and nodded at him, then got out of your car to follow him. He took a second to double-check the mall map just inside the front doors, then grabbed your hand, saying, “Come on, it’s this way.” You were really glad that he was busy navigating to wherever the hell it was he was taking you, because that meant he didn’t notice how red your face got.

The fact that Steve fucking Harrington was holding your hand dazed you to the point that you weren’t paying attention in the slightest as he led you through the mall. Eventually, he stopped in front of a store, which was evidently your destination. You looked up to see a sign saying ‘Build-A-Bear’ atop the doorway. Steve just grinned at you, excitement written all over his face, as you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Uh… are we at the right place?”

“Yep!” he answered simply, before pulling you inside. You tried to hide your frown as he let go of your hand, before he placed his hands on your shoulders and spun you to face the wall of... what appeared to be empty stuffed animal carcases. “Alright, pick one.”

It finally clicked then: he took you here to have you make one as a gift. You turned to him with a bright smile, “Really?”

“Yes, really,” he answered, mirroring your smile. “Whichever one you want.”

You spent a good ten minutes figuring out which you liked best, before deciding on a soft, dark brown bear. You told Steve that you just thought this one was the cutest, but really, it was the fact that its color reminded you of Steve’s eyes, and its fluffy fur reminded you of Steve’s hair. (And yes, you’re well aware that that’s super cheesy.) The employee smiled kindly at the two of you as you brought the bear over to her for stuffing. She gave you the same spiel that she’d have given a child – such as instructing you to place a kiss on the tiny felt heart before she put it in the bear’s chest, so “she’ll always know how much you love her!” Steve watched you with adoration as you followed along with all the steps, before the lady asked if you’d like to record something on their little gadget and place it in the bear’s paw, so that whenever you squeezed that spot, it would play.

“Yes, yes we do,” Steve interjected, and you glanced at him. He ignored your confusion, asking the woman, “Is it okay if I borrow it for a minute? I want to record something, but I don’t want my friend here to hear it just yet.”

The lady handed him the device, and he shot you a grin before holding up a finger to signal that he’d be back in one moment, then jogged outside the store. After about a minute, Steve jogged back in and returned it to the lady. You continued to look at him with a raised brow, but he ignored you, standing silently next to you as he watched the employee. She was careful to not press on the device, which would ruin Steve’s little surprise, as she placed it in the bear’s paw, then added your desired amount of stuffing to the bear with their fancy machine, sewed it up, and handed it back to you. She guided the two of you over to the register, where Steve paid for your bear, then walked with you out of the store, heading back to the parking lot.

“So when exactly am I allowed to listen to this super secret message?” you inquired, glancing up at Steve, who just smiled slightly. Wordlessly, he took your free hand, just as he had on the way to Build-A-Bear, and you held the bear tightly to your chest with your other arm. The same blush from before crawled its way up your neck and onto your face.

“You can in just a minute, when we get outside.”

You nodded, then cleared your throat and started speaking about the first thing that came to mind, to try and distract yourself so that the blush would fade. Unfortunately for you, what you ended up rambling about only caused you more embarrassment, and the blush worsened.

“I forgot to say it earlier, but thank you so much for getting this for me. It was an awesome surprise. This is probably kind of dumb, but I, uh… I’ve still got that one you gave me on Valentine’s Day. It’s getting kind of worn out, so –” you cut yourself off, realizing that you almost admitted to sleeping with the damn thing, which would probably sound super weird to him. “Well, I mean, it’s just sitting up on a shelf or whatever, so it’s not getting worn out, just… dusty. Yeah, it’s getting dusty. Um, anyway, this is a nice upgrade from that one, and I appreciate it.”

Steve chuckled as he nodded, then responded sincerely, “It’s no problem. I’m glad you like it – and I’m glad you kept the one from Valentine’s Day.”

He held the door open for you as you exited the mall, and headed back over to your car. The anticipation began to bubble up inside you, as you started to seriously wonder what in the world he would have said on the recording. Steve remained silent as you maneuvered through the parking lot, and both times you glanced at him, he looked almost… nervous? Must have been worrying about what’s wrong with his vehicle or something, you thought. Before you could ask, you’d arrived at your car, so you quickly leaned against the hood and faced him.

“Can I listen to it now?”

Steve took a deep breath, then gave you a worry-laced smile and said, “Yeah, go for it.”

You practically squealed with excitement as you held the bear in front of you and squeezed his paw, then you heard Steve’s voice through the tiny speaker.

“A little birdie told me that you’re the one who sent me that carnation on Valentine’s Day senior year. And I just wanted to say… I think you’re perfect, too. And I love you. Will you be my girlfriend?”

You felt your heart stop and your breath catch in your throat. You stared at the bear for a few moments, before you determined that yes, the recording had actually said that. It wasn’t a figment of your imagination. Steve Harrington just said that he loves you and asked you to be his girlfriend. Holy shit. Holy shit.

“So, um…” Steve began, snapping you out of your stupor. He cleared his throat and shoved his hands in his pockets. “If you don’t feel the same way, that’s totally fine. I mean, Valentine’s Day was months ago, so I get it if your feelings have changed or whatever. I just… I don’t know, I wanted to give it a shot, but you don’t –”

Without even thinking, you lunged at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a kiss. You poured as much warmth and passion and love into the kiss as you could, and relished in the feeling of his arms wrapping around your waist, holding you tightly against his chest. It felt like the kiss lasted for an eternity, but it still wasn’t long enough before you pulled away slightly to catch your breath, and respond how you should have responded a few minutes ago, if you hadn’t been stunned to silence.

“Nothing has changed, Steve. I definitely still think you’re perfect. I love you too, and I want nothing more than to be your girlfriend.”

“Oh, thank God,” he muttered, then let out a loud exhale. “You got so quiet after you played the recording, I was scared shitless.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, chuckling at how visibly terrified he was. He just smiled at you.

“It’s okay. The most amazing, beautiful, intelligent, kind-hearted woman I’ve ever met is my girlfriend now, so I’d say I’m doing alright,” Steve quipped, then kissed you again, slower and sweeter this time. He abruptly pulled back a bit, “Oh yeah, by the way, my car is fine.”

“So this was all just a clever ruse to get me here, to Build-A-Bear?” you asked, grinning. Then a realization dawned on you. “Wait, Robin told you about the note?!”

Steve burst into laughter, then nodded. “Don’t be mad at her, though! She only told me about it to convince me to ask you out. Just like you with the carnation, I’ve been terrified to tell you how I feel, because I was scared to make things weird – or worse, lose you as a friend.”

“Hate to break it to ya, but you’re stuck with me, Stevie,” you stated, giving him another quick kiss. Steve smiled down at you, his eyes full of adoration.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[madpanda75]

“Taking Chances Part 11: The Call”

We’re picking up right where we left off with Theo barging into the gallery to surprise the reader. We also find out who that special someone is that Sonny has his eye 👀

Thanks to everyone for their comments and feedback on this series! It means the world to me ❤️Also a huge thanks to @sass-and-suspenders for being my writing buddy and giving me the idea for the title. 

Trigger Warning: This chapter contains an assault scene and mention of rape.

“Theo, how did you get in?” you sputtered. “You shouldn’t be here! We’re closed.”

Theo scoffed, “Please, that ditzy coworker of yours always forgets to lock the door when she leaves.” He milled around the tiny studio, picking up a handcrafted ceramic vase. “And besides you never cared before.” He set the vase down and winked. 

You could tell that he was drunk. Apart from his disheveled appearance, the aroma of cheap whiskey radiated off his body and hit you like a brick wall. But there was something more, his presence filled you with a sense of foreboding. Nevertheless, you swallowed down your fear and held your ground. “That was then, this is now,” you sneered.

“Why can’t you forgive me? I made a mistake. I’m--”

“You broke us!” you interrupted. “My brother may have invited you to lunch, but I thought I made myself clear when we broke up that I never wanted to see you again.”

Theo’s face hardened. “It’s that older guy, isn’t it?” He looked you over from head to toe, like a predator studying its prey before it attacks. “Never took ya’ for a gold digger, but maybe being a starving artist all these years has made ya’ hard up for cash.” 

“Rafael is twice the man you’ll ever be,” you snarled.

“You sure about that? Ya’ know you and I had some hot times together.” He arched a brow and crudely licked his lips. “Can’t deny there was some definite sexual chemistry between us.”

As he stalked towards you closer and closer, you stepped back, blindly bumping into chairs and easels until you were pushed up against the wall. You were trapped. A chill rippled down your spine and your mouth went dry, panic rising in your throat.

Theo grabbed your wrist and yanked you closer to him. The acrid smell of alcohol combined with his cologne stung your nostrils. “Let go of me.” You struggled to free yourself from Theo’s grasp, but he only tightened his hold on you.

“Don’t be like that,” he cooed in a teasing manner. “How about a kiss for old times sake?” As he leaned in closer with his lips pursed, you finally wrenched free and slapped him hard. Your hand throbbed in pain. Between Theo and Sonny, you were getting tired of smacking people for disrespecting you.

Theo cruelly laughed, completely unphased by your attack. “You stupid bitch,” he growled and backhanded you across the face. The force of his slap caused you to stumble a few steps and run into a nearby table. 

In an instant, he was on top of you with a wild look in his eye. “I always get what I want,” he snarled. Theo hiked up your skirt with one hand while undoing his pants with the other. Bottles of paint toppled over in your struggle, saturating your clothes and the floor. Colors swirling together--angry reds, moody blues until they combined to a murky brown.

All of your self defense classes. All of the lectures your brother gave you about defending yourself-- hammer strike, heel palm strike. It all left your mind in that frantic, terrifying moment. Nevertheless, you fought back as hard you could, clumsily kicking and screaming. 

Luckily, your foot had fantastic aim and connected straight with his groin. Hard. Theo howled in pain and grabbed his crotch, giving you a chance to escape. You scrambled out from under him and collided into Phoebe who had just come back from the coffee shop when she heard you screaming. Coffee and pastries spilled onto the floor. 

Upon seeing your coworker, Theo pushed past you both and ran out of the gallery. But you could care less, you just clung to Phoebe, trembling. “Y/N? What happened? Are you alright?” 

You couldn’t speak. You could hardly catch your breath, on the brink of becoming hysterical. Phoebe took your hand and led you to a nearby chair. “I’m calling 911.” She reached into her purse for her phone when she stopped. “Do you want me to call your brother?”

“No!” you said in a panic. “Can you call his partner instead?” You gave Phoebe Rollins’ cell number. “Please tell her not to tell Sonny.” She nodded and dialed the number. 

While your coworker talked to Amanda, you stood up and walked around the studio. Paints, brushes, easels all covered the floor. And then you saw it. The painting you had been working on for Rafael, in a crumpled head, completely destroyed. Just like everything else in the room. In a matter of minutes, your sanctuary had become a crime scene.

*****

Sonny scaled the steps of One Hogan Place, balancing two cups of coffee in his hands. He took his familiar route, mumbling to himself. Passerbys assumed he was on bluetooth, but in reality he was deep in concentration, trying to come up with the perfect opening line. Unfortunately, the only thing he could come up with was “Hi.” 

After the disastrous lunch on Sunday, Sonny couldn’t stop thinking about what Bella had said. Maybe it was time to let go and take a chance. To put himself out there. As much as he hated to admit, you were happy with Barba. Maybe it was time for him to find his own happiness. 

He stood in front of Barba’s office door, taking a moment to collect himself. His heart hammered in his chest. His palms were clammy. Although he had been to Barba’s office countless times, this time was for a completely different reason.

From the moment Sonny met Carmen, he was hooked. She was beautiful, smart, and unbelievably kind. Not to mention, she knew how to handle Barba. She made him feel at ease. 

He never forgot when SVU had lost a big case, a rapist had been set free on a technicality. The squad and Barba had just broken the news to the survivor. She was only 14 and yet she had lived a lifetime. He would never forget the look on her face. In a way he felt completely responsible. If he had just tried harder, then they would have caught this monster.

That day Sonny was the last one to leave Barba’s office, feeling completely dejected. He thought of his sisters and his mother and how easily any of you could be a victim. He wondered if he was even cut out for this job. How many rapists would be set free during his career? How many victims would he have to disappoint? 

It was then that Carmen approached him. “Hang in there.” She patted him on the shoulder and gave him a warm smile. “They need you, Sonny. You’re one of the good guys.” In that moment, Carmen made Sonny feel safe and comforted. Something he hadn’t felt in a very long time. 

Now all he had to do was work up the nerve to ask her out on a date. “It’s now or never, Carisi,” he thought before opening the door. There she was. The woman of his dreams, sitting at her desk, furiously typing and completely oblivious to the fact that Sonny was right in front of her. 

After several seconds, he cleared his throat and shouted, “Hey you!” Carmen jumped a mile high. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare ya’.” Being a ball of nervous energy, it was not his intention to scream at the poor woman. 

“It’s ok. I wasn’t paying attention.” Sonny nodded and rocked back on his heels, awkwardly standing in front of her. “Um, Mr. Barba is free, if you’d like to see him.”

“Actually. I’m here for you.” He handed over one of the cups of coffee in his hand. “Here.”

“Thanks.” Carmen graciously accepted the cup and took a sip. “I’ve been so busy working on these briefs that I haven’t had a chance to get any.”

Sonny beamed and began taking out of his pockets handfuls of assorted coffee creamers and sugar packets. “I...uh...I didn’t know how ya’ took your coffee so I got ya’ half n half, hazelnut, vanilla, soy milk, almond milk. I got sweet n’ low, regular sugar, sugar in the--”

“Thank you,” Carmen politely interrupted him and pushed all of the creamers and sugars now littering her desk off to the side. “That’s very sweet.”

Sonny turned beet red and took a sip of his coffee. Having been out of the dating game for so long, he was definitely rusty at this. “So...uh...I was just wonderin’ if maybe sometime--”

Just then Rafael burst out of his office. “Carmen, something’s come up and I have to leave. Please hold my calls and cancel all my meetings for today.” Before she could even reply, he brusquely walked past, bumping into Sonny and causing him to spill his coffee. Rafael shot daggers at him. 

Sonny furrowed his brow in confusion, watching Rafael walk out the door. Although Rafael had certainly glared at him before, this time was different. If looks could kill, Sonny would be dead on the floor. “Wonder what that was about?” he mused.

Carmen shook her head. “Don’t know. But it must be bad. I hope everything’s ok.” She then noticed the spilled coffee on Sonny’s shirt and opened her drawer, pulling out a stain removing pen for clothes. “May I?”  She walked over to Sonny and began to clean the coffee stain before it began to set. 

Being that close to Carmen, Sonny felt weak in the knees. He lost himself in her warm brown eyes and the honeyed sweet scent of her orange blossom perfume. “Thanks,” he managed to squeak out.

“It’s no problem,” she said with a shy smile. “With the amount of coffee Mr. Barba drinks, I keep a stash of these at my desk. Just in case of an emergency.” 

“So like I was saying earlier, I thought if you were free sometime that maybe you’d like to--”

Suddenly, a loud ring coming from his coat pocket cut him off. The universe was not working in his favor today. He pulled his phone out and saw Bella’s name flash across his screen. “Excuse me,” he told Carmen before answering the phone. “Hey Bella. Can I call ya’ back?” 

Bella let out a sob in response and Sonny felt his stomach drop. “Bella? What’s wrong?”

“Sonny,” she managed to say through her tears. “You need to get to the precinct. Now. Something’s happened with Y/N.”

Tag List:

@glimmerglittergirl @southern-magnolia @sweetcannolicarisi @delia26 @obfuscateyummy @sass-and-suspenders @eclecticminded @thatesqcrush @katmstanton @amirightcounsellor @beltzboys2015-blog @letty-o @sonnysdoll @lyssa1385 @sweetsummertime99 @burningsorr0ws @gibbs274 @izzythefanfreak @babypink224221 @livxrafa @esparza-army @obsessionprofessional @ottosuricato @mgarner1227 @dreila03 @frenchiefoxy @tropes-and-tales @thecraziestcrayon @goodluckfindingone @scarletsoldierrr @youreverycolor @yeah-boiiiiiiiiiii @imjustreallynosy @graniairish @ashley-chi @lolacolaempath @cocomel0613 @imagine-all-the-imagines @mysterioustrashadventures @that-girl-named-alex @scapricciatello @mrsrafaelbarba @zizzlekwum @katierpblogg @crowleysqueenofhell @caked-crusader​ @garturbo @rachelxwayne @averyhotchner @sarcastically-defensive17 @permanentlydizzy @beccabarba @infiniteoddball

[ahatintimepieces]

He’s Going to be Okay

I wrote a little fic for @doodledrawsthings ahit “Coffee shop AU” about one of Luka’s early days working at The Horizon! Nothing fancy but I got the idea and just went with it. Please enjoy!

              Luka flexed his four fingers against his coiled torso, staring at the thick purple prongs with tempered despair. Yes, he had been getting used to his new fluid body after traveling around for a few years, but now that he had recently started working at The Horizon, he found himself aching for his human body even more.

              Whenever he shapeshifted, he became acutely aware of just how much he had changed. While making coffee or wiping down tables, he could feel how flexible his arms and fingers were, like they were those cylindrical jelly toys meant to slip out of children’s hands the second they were squeezed too hard. He always feared if he grabbed a carafe or a customer’s change too firmly, his hands would melt back into purple goop.

              Blinking, he ran his hand through the fur on his head. He had to get up. Hattie was at school, which he was so grateful that a chance for her to have a normal life as a kid again, and he had work, which was another wonderful blessing. But he was so tired.

              Shaking himself as he uncoiled and floated over to the bathroom, he gazed at his reflection in the mirror. His pair of golden, glowing eyes and jack-o-lantern smile stared back at him. He longed for nothing more than to see his familiar, human features, but just the idea of shapeshifting just then drained him of non-existent energy.

              Come on! He could do this! He had been working full time and taking grad classes on top of being a single father before all of this! He didn’t know the meaning of fatigue! Surely, he could keep his liquid body in the right shape for one measly shift!

              Determined, he shrunk himself enough to curl his tail at the base of the sink as he gripped the edges. He stared into the mirror. It was only his forth day on the job and he wasn’t going to be late! He stared at his golden eyes, using the promise of coffee to summon enough strength to—

              He groaned and hunched over the sink, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

              Okay. New plan! He would grab some clothes and commute as a noodle. Maybe a short flight through the forest would wake his body up enough to change.

              Once he collected his things, he shrunk himself and snuck outside through his bedroom window. Luckily, most everyone in the complex had either left for work or school, so he only needed to slip past an older couple sitting on a bench at the boarder of the forest. He flew behind him, using their own shadows for cover, and darted into the woods.

              Use the shadows to hide. Think about the coffee waiting at work. Remember he’s doing this for Hattie. Hattie. He has to be able to support her. His daughter is all he had left, and he knew he could be okay as long as he had her.

              Feeling a touch more rejuvenated from both his mental pep talk and the fresh forest air, Luka landed behind the usual tree he used as cover when he started to slip in work. From his tree, he could smell the roasted coffee and his mouth watered. While Hattie did make him breakfast that morning—complete with lots of bacon, as if his sweetheart knew he needed an extra boost—he found himself still hungry. He vaguely wondered if all the shapeshifting lately required more fuel as well as sleep, but he shoved those thoughts down swiftly.

              He didn’t really have time to dwell on these things.

              With concentration, he first focused on shifting into a humanoid shape. The fluff around his neck easily molded into tufts of soft hair and shrinking his length to his human height was also a breeze. The hard part was splitting his tail into legs and his mittens into hands. But soon, he found himself standing—oh standing! How he missed feeling firmly planted on the ground on two feet!—and he could flex his humanoid fingers and thumbs. Next came his features, which he manifested while he shimmied into his pants.

              Nose. Teeth that weren’t fangs. Human eyes—with pupils and everything!—and brows. He skipped the ears because he figured his hair would cover them anyway and he was still so tired. Cutting corners on his appearance might help. Soon enough, he felt himself in proper human-shape, even if he still felt like a water balloon with his innards shifting around in a magic shell.

              As he buttoned his shirt—something so normal felt so good—he focused on changing his color to match how he was before. Brown hair, chestnut eyes, and not a drop of purple anywhere on his skin. He inhaled a steadying breath and walked around the shop and towards the entrance.

              “Hey there, Luka,” MJ called from the cash register as Luka briskly walked towards the back. “How was drop-off?”

              Drop-off? It took Luka a second as he put on his apron before he registered that MJ was asking about dropping Hattie off at school—the reason Luka had said he couldn’t take an early shift.

              “Oh, yeah,” Luka offered a nervous smile. He felt bad not only that he had to lie about the real reason but also because he wished he could have walked Hattie to school instead of being confined to the apartment as a weird purple snake monster. “It was fine. She seems to be making friends already.”

              That, he realized gratefully, was true and he couldn’t be happier for his daughter.

              But it also meant he really needed to make sure he didn’t screw up this job.

              “That’s great!” MJ offered a warm smile before turning back to the customers, his blue hair bouncing on top his head with his movement.

              Luka glanced down as he tied his apron, smiling softly.

              “Enough chatting!” Clover appeared from the back with a tray of plastic-wrapped pastries in hand. “Luka, can you get started on making drinks?”

              “Oui, Chef!” Luka saluted, which earned an eyeroll from Clover.

              “We outsource the pastries, you goof!” She gave him a gentle nudge before restocking the reserves beneath the display case.

              Instead of quipping back, Luka just laughed as he crossed over to the espresso machine, where cups with orders were already lined up.

              It felt good, he marveled, laughing with coworkers. How long had it been since he just spent time with friends? His gaze lingered on his human hand as he grabbed a cup.

              Too long, he decided.

              The first half of the shift went by in a blur. The mornings were always busiest, leaving Luka pushing out cup after cup. It wasn’t until MJ handed him the last order that Luka let himself relax long enough to breathe. Even then, when he read MJ’s instructions on what coffee to make, it just read, “Luka’s Favorite.”

              “What?” Luka glanced over at MJ, taking a moment to briefly scan the room for anyone waiting for coffee.

              “You’ve earned it,” MJ answered as his gaze narrowed on something in front of him and furrowed his brows. MJ removed his red-rimmed glasses and frowned at an apparent smudge before using the edge of his apron to clean up the lens. “I don’t know your favorite though,” MJ looked back up, squinting slightly at Luka without his glasses. “You’ll have to tell me a few times before I remember, as a heads up.”

              “Chestnut-infused Columbian Bean with cream and sugar,” Luka replied softly, smiling as he started to make himself a cup. “What about you?”

              MJ pushed his glasses back onto his nose and was about to respond before he titled his head with concern.

              “Dude, you alright? You’ve got some pretty gnarly bags under your eyes.”

              Luka’s heart dropped into his stomach as he instinctively lifted a hand to his face.

              “Um, mind if I—” Luka gestured towards the bathroom and MJ nodded. Luka practically threw himself into the cramped employee bathroom and glanced up.

              Oh no.

              Sure enough, purple was starting to spread, starting at the base of his eyes. In addition, his chestnut irises were starting to reflect gold in the dim bathroom light. He glanced down at his hands, his usual indicator that he was out of time in his human-shape. They remained untouched by purple and he still had his thumbs.

              Okay. Maybe this wasn’t so bad. He had made it through most of the shift and might be able to stick it out the rest of the day. Looking exhausted was fine, so long as he still looked human.

              He inhaled a deep, calming breath. He would be fine. He just needed a cup of coffee and that should tide him over. He could stick it out! He could do this!

              He returned to the counter with an anxious smile plastered on his face. MJ was wiping down the top of the display case when Luka went to finished making his coffee. While he poured the cream, he noted his hands were shaking but he ignored them.

              “Luka,” MJ asked as Luka lifted the steaming cup to his lips, “is everything okay?”

              “Oh yeah!” Luka smiled but he soon felt two sharp somethings—his fangs, he realized with dread—dig into his bottom lip. Panic gripped his chest and he glanced down at his hand holding the coffee cup.

              The tips of his fingers were turning purple.

              “Actually,” Luka’s shoulders slumped with resignation. He shifted the coffee cup into his other hand—which was still free of purple—and hid his changing hand behind his back. “I’m not—I think I need to—”

              MJ zeroed in on his hand and for a second, Luka feared the purple was spreading and the cat was out of the bag, but his fears were soon assuaged when MJ spoke.

              “Your hand is shaking more than my old dryer!” MJ explained in disbelief and worry. “Listen, do you need to go home? I can cover for the rest of the day.”

              “I hate to leave you mid-shift again and with Clover off getting more cup sleeves—” Luka winced from the way his growing fangs scratched against his mouth as he stepped back towards the door.

              “It’s all good,” MJ promised, his brows tight with concern. “Just get some rest before you need to pick up your daughter.”

              “Thank you!” Luka just about dashed out the back door, “It won’t happen again!”

              He barely made it outside before the purple creeped up his arm and his fingers on his one hand clenched back into cumbersome mittens. He ducked behind the tree and let out a frustrated groan as his thin control over his body dissolved.

              Not wanting to ruin another pair of clothes, he placed his coffee down and swiftly undressed. He tried to maintain fingers on the hand that was just turning purple as he struggled with the buttons on his shirt. It took a few tries but he finally managed. The second he shed his shirt and pants, his purple form ballooned into the now familiar form of a large snake with fur and noodle arms.

              Luka sighed, leaning against the bark as fatigue and sorrow ate at his spirit. Wet, golden tears slipped down familiar paths etched into his cheeks. He momentarily entertained the idea of remaining there, in the shadow of the tree and stewing in his sorry state, but on the other side of The Horizon, he could hear the hustle and bustle of the people of Subcon. The longer he remained in the open, the more he risked being seen.

              Willing himself through the motions, he collected his clothes and draped them over his arm before scooping up his coffee cup between two thick fingers. Careful not to let the cup slip through his fingers because he knew that a little spilled coffee in that moment was all it would take to send him into a spiral of despair he might not be able to recover from, he headed home.

              He hovered through the deeper part of the woods since he had nowhere to be anytime soon. Of course, he wanted to be home before Hattie, but that wasn’t for another hour or two. So, he took his time, letting his tail wiggle lackadaisically as he flitted from shadow to shadow. The warm coffee in his hand was a small comfort and the toasted flavor of the beans soothed him to the core.

              He was mid-sip—eyes half-closed—when a small gasp came from below.

              Luka’s eyes snapped fully open as he glanced down over his coffee cup. A young child in a dark purple hood with fluffy brown bangs that concealed most of their features was craning their neck to look up at him.

              The two remained frozen as they stared at each other for a second. Luka clutched his clothes draped around his one arm and still held the coffee cup to his mouth while the child’s jaw hung open.

              “Wowie! What are—” The child’s awe-filled voice snapped Luka out of his petrification and before the child could finish their sentence, Luka flew away.

              Peck! He was seen! Sure, he had been seen before but usually not mid-day and never that up close! He glanced back at the kid, who thankfully wasn’t following him, just watching in shock.

              That might come back to haunt him…

              Oh well, Luka tried to console himself as he zipped back home. At least the kid didn’t see him shapeshifting, which was more likely to give away his identity. The thought of Luka being found out and having to tear Hattie from another home gripped his chest like ice, but he immediately forced himself to take deep breaths.

              It was okay. The kid saw a purple noodle in the forest with coffee. It was fine. There was no reason to think he was at risk of being found out.

              It was going to be okay. He would be okay. Hattie was safe and happy. Everything was okay.

              The area behind the apartment was void of life and Luka had no trouble shrinking and flying up to his bedroom window, which he had left open for easy access. He flew in and soon expanded to fill the empty room. Sighing, he gingerly set down his cup before folding his clothes and stacking them by the closet. Exhaustion overwhelmed him and he curled around himself, resting his head on his hands on the topmost coil.

              His eyelids drooped as he flicked the tip of his tail back and forth. He wished he could have finished his shift. He wished he could have kept laughing with MJ and that he could have been there when Clover came back.

              He squeezed his eyes shut, as if it would keep a few more tears from slipping out. No such luck. He heaved out a worn sign before shifting his focus on getting some sleep. Maybe if he rested enough, he would have enough energy to maintain a humanoid shape so he could cook a good dinner for Hattie. That would be nice.

              He fell asleep repeating his new mantra.

              It would be okay. He was going to be okay.

[slygirl666]

Misunderstanding

Fred x American reader

summery: while taking some time in New York Fred meets reader. but she is convinced he's a No-Maj. 

warnings: maybe language, not edited and probably won't ever be.

words: 2,7020

----

You sighed, you were on your last hour of a double shift at a twenty four hour dinner. You couldn’t wait to Apparate home and sleep. Getting a plate of hashbrowns and eggs you walked tiredly to your section.

What you didn't see was the giant of a man walking towards you. The eggs and hashbrowns did end up on him.

“Shi- i mean sorry, sir,” you bent down to get the now broken plate. To be fair this was only your second week on the job and you were still getting used to the fact magic wasn’t used to keep things afloat.

“No harm, love.” he gave you a smile that made your cheeks heat up. Maybe it was just the nickname, that's what it was. A tourist most likely

“Sit down, i’ll get you a milkshake on me.” he started to shake his head. “Please something I don't want to let you go knowing I made a mess of you.”

“I’ll settle for a coffee, if that's alright?” you nodded as you went back to replace the order and get his coffee. You smiled at him dropping the coffee before taking the order to another customer.

When you got off of work you noticed the same man sitting only a block away on a public bench, he was awfully cute and the city lights bounced nicly off of flaming red hair.

No, the last thing you needed was to get attached to another no-maj, let alone one from another country.

That's the way you ended up in New york alone, you followed a boy. A no-maj you were ready to turn in your wand for. But he left you with a girl who came sobbing at your door about being pregnant. You're glad that he had the decency to see this through with her but not the decency to not cheat on you.

Against your better judgement you walked up to the man. “Hi, I believe I spilled a whole meal on you a while ago.”

He turned to look at you, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes flashed. You bit your lip just knowing that smile will get you in loads of trouble.

“You did, do you always end up following people out?” He gave you a smirk. You felt yourself heat up embarrassed, but he couldn’t know that.

“Only the cute ones.”  you shrugged, mentally hitting yourself for saying it.

His smirk turned into a boyish grin, “awfully bold of you to say. I’m Fred.”

“Y/N” you offered him a hand. He shook it. “What are you doing all the way out here in New York?”

His face darkened, his eyes went haunted. “I needed a change from home. How long have you lived here?”

“A year,” Merlin, you should walk away, Apparate home. “I should get to the subway before it’s too late, have a good night.”

He waved to you as you walked off.

Two days after your talk with the Red Headed man you walked into work, a co worker took your hand.

“Y/N a cute guy came in yesterday asking about you,” she gave you an excited smile. “I told him you were working tonight and he said he’s stopping by.”

Shit, who would ask for you did kade find you. No his kid would be a here by now. “What did he look like?”

“Very tall, red hair, freckles..” you let out a breath  as she listed them. It was that guy...Fred.

“Thanks Heather, I should get on my shift now,” you tied the apron around your waist and walked off to your section.

You anticipated Fred coming to see you, three hours passed and he didn’t. He wasn’t obligated to come see you, but why would he ask your coworker if he wasn’t going to come. Two more hours and you were putting your apron back in your locker.

You walked out through the front, only to see Fred leaned against the wall running his hands through his hair, muttering to himself to ‘just do it.’

“Do what?” You laughed, he jumped and turned to you.

“ask the pretty waitress, who happened to spill food on me if she wants to get a drink with me.” He smiled hopefully at you.

“I can’t get into a bar,” you shuffled your feet. He was older than you then. “I’m only nineteen.”

You could always use a glamour in your ID but you didn’t want to lie about your age to him.

“Oh,” He looked at a loss for words.

“I do know a killer pizza place just around the corner, so how about dinner?” You bit your lip half expecting him to say you were too young for him.

“Sounds lovely,” he smiled,gesturing for you to lead the way.

You walked ahead of him, before stopping at your favorite place for a late night slice. Leading him inside.

“Y/N your back,” Johnny, the owner smiled at you. After Kade broke your heart you spent a lot of time crying over a slice of Pizza here.

“Brought a friend too,” you smiled at him waving in the direction of Fred.

“Out to break my heart Y/N” he dramatically grabbed his chest.

“It’s okay Johnny I only loved you for your pizza skills anyway.” He laughed as you took a seat at a table, Fred sat across from you amused.

“You get on with everyone you meet?” He breathed out a laugh.

“Not always, but moving somewhere alone you learn where you feel safe and who you should talk to to secure that.”

He looked at you a little worried. When Johnny sat a cheese Pizza in front of the two of you with two bottles of beer Fred looked at you.

“They’ve never carded me here,” you shrugged, opening it up. That was a lie you spent two months charming your I.D till they stopped carding you. “So tell me about yourself.”

You learned a lot like he was the fourth child out of seven, he was twenty two, he only had one sister. He dropped out of school his last year and he owned a small joke shop with his twin brother in London.

“What about you, love?”

“Uh, I don’t have a family…” you refused to meet his eyes. “I went to a boarding school, and stayed with a foster family over the summers.”

You knew he would pity you, everyone seemed to. “You seem to have no trouble making your own family then.” He smiled at you nodding towards Johnny.

“Don’t always make the right choice though, that’s how I ended up on the other side of the country on my own,” you laughed telling him about how you ended up alone after only two months of living with someone.

“Stupid wanker if you ask me,” he smiled. You couldn’t agree more. The pizza and drinks were finished before you knew it. You felt so comfortable with this man. He got up and insisted on paying for the food and drinks. You agreed only if the next time you could pay, though you had a feeling he wouldn’t allow that.

And he didn’t, random nights turned to days, you gave him your phone number, he’d call from the landline he had. You even took him sightseeing, though he said he already had you insisted it was better with a partner.

It was a dream your friends had warned you, even saying that you get attached to men too easily. That was true but with Fred it just felt right. Even though you always felt like he told half truths maybe it's because you were keeping secrets. You eyed your wand, you should tell him maybe not now but soon. You were sitting in a cafe in the magic district.”

“No way Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N” she recognized the voice of Naveah Klower, a girl in her year at Illivamory. “I thought you lived in california, what the hell are you doing in New York?”

She smiled you two were never close but you did study together occasionally. “I live here now.”

“No way,” she sat herself across from you, last you heard she was working her way up as a top journalist for the daily. “Tell me everything.”

It was nice to talk to someone about the frustration of falling for a No-maj and not sure what to say.

“Oh, sweetheart.” she looked ready to cry for you. “You’ve always been a lover haven’t you? Tell you what, let's get together. I have to go to this event, it's formal, come with me as my date.”

“Uh, is that really what you get ou-”

“Common say yes, it's a free trip to london. Austin bailed on me and it's this weekend.” she pulled out a silver invitation.

Remembrance Ball

Witches and wizards all over the world are the reason were here today

“It’s cheesy I know, but I have a port key and you’ll get to meet all the people who fought for everyone, they usually only invite people higher in the business but my boss has a soft spot for me.”

She gave you lage pleading brown puppy eyes. “Fine, I’ll go.”

“Great, we can go to the ball and then maybe we’ll go bar hopping. It's only a weekend but-”

You were lost in thought as you thought maybe this would be an opportunity to see everything clearly. Spend the weekend away from Fred out of your apartment.

He was already busy this weekend, something about his apartment needing to be cleaned. You wouldn’t just mope around your place.

“You can borrow a dress of mine, oh give me your address.” she pulled out a quill and paper. “I’ll be by tomorrow night.”

she smiled at you walking off.

You spent the next day packing a bag and pacing your apartment. When Naveah knocked and excitedly waited. “So we need to apparate to the ministry and they have my portkey.”

She took your hand so you went with her. The portkey itself was a dusty record player that had a sister key set in your hotel room.

“Okay so, we have a hair and nail appointment in London and I’ll do make up,” she pushed you out the door grabbing both your purses.

You were never friends because she was so high energy and you weren’t. You checked your phone in hopes for a voice mail or call from Fred, but he said he couldn’t this weekend.

“Y/N don't worry about the no-maj man,” she took your phone. “We’re going to get you looking perfect for tonight you can't stress over a boy.���

The day felt long getting through the appointments, and having Naveah pull and tug at you as she chose your dress and makeup.

You did look good, hair in large soft curls, grey and silver eye makeup with dark red lips. She handed you a silky charcoal colored gown.

“Me best work yet i have to say, “ she zipped you up she looked amazing, in neutral makeup and a pink dress.

They looked walked out to the hall to the elevator, the man inside nodded, “looking lovely ladies, where too?”

“Top floor please,” Naveah flashed her invite, he nodded, waving a hand over the elevator buttons to make a new one appear. He pressed the button, elevator going up at lightning speed. “Enjoy.”

They walked into the room, the ceiling magically showing the perfect night sky. People were already mingling and discussing the war. Naveah pulled a pad and quill to start writing. “You go talk to people, I have to report and stuff.”

You smiled going to find the table, feeling awkward alone in a place you knew nobody. It reminded you of when you moved, you saw a flash of red hair. Turning you saw it belonged to a lanky man shoving bread in his mouth, not your Fred.

The woman the man was with guided him to the front, she was beautiful with her large hair in natural curls and a light blue gown. “Ronald! we have to go meet Harry up front, swallow that or spit it out.”

You giggled, they looked like a cute couple. The two walked to the front where a shorter man with jet black hair tapped a knife against a champagne glass. From photos you knew that was Harry Potter. He began thanking everyone before awkwardly going on to talk about the war and the people who stood with him. When he mentioned the last name Weasley you perked up.

It's a common last name right? Especially here, the name isn’t unheard of. You think at least.

When Harry finished his speech he motioned for the staff to bring out the food.

You sat and chatted with Neveah and the others at your table, you met Rita Skeeter and her partner. After food everyone was invited to dance and mingle.

“Y/N would you mind helping, just jot down notes, please?” Neveah gave you pleading eyes. You smiled taking the two items sitting next to you.

“I want to focus on everyone around the war, not just those three,” she moved on asking people who they were and how they were involved.

You stopped at Ginny Weasley who insisted you should talk to her older brothers. “Georgie, Freddie! Come here, they came here from America.”

You froze the second she said Freddie. And a familiar voice called out to Ginny.

“Y/N what's wrong with you?” Naveah gently shoved your shoulder.

It was too late the men already came to stand with their sister.

“Y/N?” Fred eyed you. “What are you doing here aren't you- Merlin I’m an idiot. You never told me anything about before your days in new york and you always cut yourself off.”

“I take it this is the girl you were writing about,” the identical man laughed.

“I think we have a lot to talk about,” you handed the paper and quill to Naveah.

Fred led you to a bar, he ordered a whiskey and wine handing you the glass.

“Mione, made sure there was an open bar,” he didn’t look at you.

“Oh thats-”

“Did you plan on telling me? At all?” he turned to you with a short glare.

“You can't be mad Freddie, I was going to decide this weekend,” you returned his glare.

“Were you going to tell me?”

“Yes, I was going to tell you on monday after I picked you up for work.” he cracked a smile, “we’re right idiots aren’t we?”

You laughed, placing your glass down, he led you to the floor where people were dancing. You wrapped your arms around his neck, “we really are, maybe it’s a good thing.”

“You know I know, I was so scared. You were a bit too young for me,” he pulled you closer by the waist. “Obviously reckless, somehow can drink underadge you spilt food on me multiple times-”

“Those were an accident,” you defended.  he laughed, bringing up a hand to caress your cheek.

“But charming and absolutely gorgeous. I was amazed you agreed to go on a date with me after one conversation.”

“I tend to do things most people see as a read flag,” you smiled up at him.

“I will forever be grateful for that.” he leaned his head down to kiss you sweetly.

The two of you had kissed many times, this was different, you felt lighter no longer holding anything back.

“Ahem, Fred.” the two of you turned to see George and a whole family of redheads standing by you two. looking ready to laugh. “Don’t you want to introduce us to your lady friend?”

He looked embarrassed before you introduced yourself, Molly Weasley hugged you. “I thought you were a muggle.”

“I thought he was a no-maj. We just misunderstood each other ma’am.”

“Oh, dear call me Molly, Fred hasn’t shut up about you.”

“That's enough you lot!” Fred pulled you under his arm guiding you to a balcony. You looked out amazed by the view of London under you. “Y/N I think I love you.”

“I know I love you already.” you got his collar to pull him down for a heated kiss.

[sweetyyhippyy]

Part of You. Spencer Reid x OC! Character. Chapter 4.

Chapter 4: 864 days

(Not my gif.)

Summary: Bridgett brings a date to a party at Rossi’s house. Spencer gets extremely jealous and angry. While working a case with Bridgett, he says some words he doesn’t mean. He goes to Bridgett’s apartment to apologize, and those 3 little words are finally said. 

Pairing: Season 5 Spencer Reid x OC! Plus size character, Bridgett Mendez

TW: Alcohol mentions, Spencer being mean, language, I think that’s all!

Word Count: 4k

A.N.: This is season 5 Spencer, like tail end of season 5. Please reblog! Italicized words are inner thoughts. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So Rossi needs a headcount for how many people are coming over tonight. He said he hasn’t heard back from only you, Bridge.”

JJ says, joining Bridgett and Garcia gossiping at Bridgett’s desk.

“Oh yeah sorry, I was kinda waiting to hear from… this guy I’m bringing along tonight.”

Both of the girls eyes get wide, staring at Bridgett.

“You’re bringing someone? Who is he?! I need to know everything, now.” Penelope squeals, leaning back in her chair.

Bridgett laughs, knowing that this was going to be the hot topic of the day.

“It’s this guy I’ve been dating for like 2 weeks. His name is Angel.”

“Okay, okay, Angel. Angel and Bridgett… Bridgett and Angel. Doesn’t necessarily roll off the tongue but keep going.” Penelope says.

“I met him at the coffee shop by my apartment. It was that one morning Hotch needed us to come in at like 6am so I grabbed some coffee and they were getting a delivery while I was waiting and the delivery guy noticed me, I noticed him after the third time he passed me by. So I smiled at him and he stopped to talk to me on my way out. We've gone on a few dates and he’s really nice.”

“Just nice? Are you not completely into him?” JJ questions.

“I don’t know, he’s nice, and he is cute. But I don’t know it’s weird, I know you’re both going to say I’m selling myself short but he’s out of my league. Our connection is good when we’re together but I can’t help but think that maybe he’s just putting a front on. It’s all probably just in my head… right?”

“If it’s only been a few dates this is all still new. The both of you are trying to figure each other out. I wouldn’t discredit him just yet, sweetheart.” Penelope interjects, rubbing her shoulder in comfort.

JJ’s phone rings from her pocket, her groaning and leaving out the door to the elevator.

“Do you think it’s a good idea to bring another guy tonight? I’m not judging, I just don’t think that there’s *someone you didn’t think about.”

Bridgett knew who she was talking about as soon as she said it, and she was right, Bridgett didn’t think about Spencer.

“You don’t know for sure if Spence likes me, Penelope.”

“Um, Earth to madam profiler! Bridgy, the boy is beyond in love with you. You don’t see what everyone else in this office sees when you talk to him, or when someone talks about you.”

Bridgett sighs, rubbing her temple with her fingers lightly.

“What am I supposed to do? I’m genuinely asking I’m not trying to be a bitch but, am I supposed to wait, god knows how long, for him to make the first move? I don’t make the first move. Ever. That’s not me and it makes me want to physically puke even thinking about it. What if he never does it? Then what?”

“I know, beautiful, and I didn’t mean to make you question dating other people, but I just want you to think about it.”

***

Bridgett felt off the rest of the day after her talk with Garcia. She almost wanted to just call Angel and tell him that there had been a change of plans and she wasn’t going to the party anymore. But he had told her on the phone a few nights ago he had gotten a special outfit for the night.

Bridgett sits on the couch, her hair flowing down her back, makeup fresh on her face, and a dark maroon dress clinging to her body, the dress ending mid thigh. While she was staring at her phone deciding on whether or not she was going to call Angel and cancel, it starts ringing, his name appearing on screen.

“Hello?”

“Hey you, I’m on my way to come get you. I’ll be there in about 5 minutes.”

Her stomach turns, but in a good way.

“Okay. I’ll be waiting. See you in a bit.”

She slips her heels on, leaving them for the last minute knowing they were going to kill her feet by the end of the night. She paced back and forth, double and triple checking she had everything in her clutch. there’s a knock at the door in a rhythmic pattern, one that Angel frequented when he came over to pick her up. Bridgett walks to answer the door, opening it with a smile. He smiles back, handing her a single red rose.

“For you.” He smiles, kissing her cheek. Bridgett’s cheeks get warm, a nervous laugh coming from her mouth.

“Thank you. You look very handsome.”

He looked so incredibly handsome in the dark brown button up tucked into black dress pants he was wearing, everything head to toe was on point and it made her swoon a little bit.

“Are you ready to go? I’m definitely going to need directions to your coworker’s house.”

***

“This is going to sound very shallow, but how much money do FBI agents make? This house is huge.” Angel whispers to Bridgett, walking up to Rossi’s house.

“He used to work for the FBI back in the day, he retired and wrote a couple of books and he started doing book tours and signing, lectures. So he always hosts parties because this is his house. He’s a great guy, you’ll like him.”

Bridgett was beyond nervous for everyone to meet this new guy. Especially since he was so new in her life. And since the conversation she had with Penelope, she was nervous if she was right how Spencer would react.

She rings the doorbell to the large house, waiting for someone to answer the door. Derek opens the door, a surprising look on his face.

“Hey Bridge. Come on in.” Derek studies Angel up and down.

“Derek, this is Angel. Angel this is Derek. He and I work together at the Buerau. He’s our resident badass and big brother.”

The front of the house fills with the rest of the team members; Emily, JJ, Penelope, Hotch, Rossi, but no Spencer. She introduces everyone to Angel , Rossi handing both of them a drink after the introductions are done.

***

The mood was light while everyone was inside sitting around a large table, everyone talking and laughing.

“I gotta use the restroom. I’ll be back, if I’m not back in 10 send a search party.” Angel jokes, making Bridgett laugh.

“Hey pretty boy made it!” Derek calls out, everyone’s attention turning to Spencer. He smiles and waves awkwardly, coming to join everyone else. He had a nice plum colored button up on with a skinny solid black tie, and of course his converse on. He looked really handsome. Bridgett waves at him from her seat, Spencer walking over and sitting on the opposite side of her.

“You’re late. What took you so long?” Bridgett teases.

“The subway. It randomly broke down right before I was supposed to get off for 15 minutes.”

“Well hey, don’t worry about taking the subway home, I’ll just take you. I’m sticking to one glass tonight, I’m not going to be drunk.”

Spencer smiles at her, nodding his head as he takes a drink from his glass, “Yeah that would be great thanks Bridge.”

Bridgett feels the chair on her other side slide back, Angel touching her bare shoulder as he sits back down. Spencer’s eyes fixate on the stranger, his eyes flickering back and forth between him and Bridgett.

“Who’s this?” Spencer questions.

“Oh I’m Angel, I’m Bridgett’s date.”

The room fell quiet, everyone watching the exchange. Spencer’s jaw clenched, taking a longer swig of his drink.

“Date huh? Nice.” He says under his breath.

Bridgett’s cheeks getting hot, getting through this dinner was going to be interesting.

Spencer was beyond fuming, but in the back of his mind he knew he had no true right to feel this angry.  But seeing that the girl he’s in love with be touched and goggled over made him seethe with rage.

If you weren’t such a goddamn wimp, maybe Bridgett and you could have gone together as a date, but no you have to be afraid of fucking everything.

Spencer knocks the glass of wine back, asking Rossi if he had anything stronger., to which he offered him his best scotch and Spencer took. He quickly shoots that one down, instantly regretting it once he feels the fire in his throat.

Bridgett watches him cough after hearing him swallow the shot, in the few years she’s know Spencer, he’s had maybe half a sip of champagne, and again… it was half a sip. “Woah, slowdown, I can’t carry you out of here.” Bridgett comments, laughing slightly.

Spencer pours another shot full, keeping his eyes on hers the whole time while he slowly sips, finishing yet another glass.

“Slow enough for you?”

***

Spencer didn’t speak one word while everyone was eating , anytime Bridgett spoke to him, Spencer wouldn’t look at her, he just nodded his head and take a heavy drink. He got more and more angry throughout the night, nobody else could tell if it was the alcohol or Angel.

Not too long after dinner was over some of the team started to leave. Angel wraps his arm around Bridgett’s waist, kissing her cheek.

“What do you say we get out of here?” Angel whispers in her ear. Bridgett giggles, smiling at him.

“Okay. I told my friend Spencer I would take him home, so I need to drop him off before I get home. Let me go find him.”

Bridgett walks to the backyard to try to find Spencer, not finding him with the rest of the team that was still here. She walks back inside, finding Derek and Penelope before they leave.

“Hey, have you seen Spence? I was supposed to give him a ride home.”

Derek sighs, throwing his jacket on. Penelope stares at Derek then back at Bridgett.

“He uhh… got a call from his mom’s care facility. He left like 10 minutes ago.”

“Oh my god is she okay?”

“He didn’t say. He was… upset.” Derek states, rubbing her shoulder in comfort. “I’ll see you Monday morning, mama.”

Bridgett walks to Rossi and Emily chatting with Angel, her coat in his hands.

“Hey, Spence took off because of a family emergency. So if you still want to head out, we can.”

Angel nods his head, helping Bridgett put her coat on and saying his goodbyes to the pair before walking hand and hand out with Bridgett back to her car.

***

Bridgett walks through the elevator, pulling the door open to the dugout. She spots Spencer at his desk, not expecting him to be at work this morning.

“Hey, you’re here. How’s your mom?”

Spencer barely turns his head to give Bridgett a dirty look, going back to scribbling something in his notebook.

“Fine.” He says plainly.

“Garcia said that you left Rossi’s party the other night because you got a call from your mom’s care facility that something happened. And you didn’t answer my phone calls all weekend. I was worried about you.”

Spencer gets up from his desk with a sigh, whizzing past her toward the conference room. Bridgett stands there, completely confused why he wasn’t speaking to her.

“Hey mama, we have a local case, Hotch said a briefing in 5.” Derek says, passing by her quickly.

Bridgett sets her bag at her desk, taking her notebook and pen with her to the conference room, sitting in her usual spot next to Spencer.

“Hey, are you okay?” She asks quietly.

Spencer visibly rolls his eyes, fidgeting with his pen between his fingers.

“Yup. Just fine.”

Bridgett opens her mouth to ask him another question but everyone grabs their seat as JJ begins briefing everyone on their case.

***

Hotch had Bridgett and Spencer partner up to examine the crime scene and Spencer was beyond annoyed. Bridgett could feel the anger and tension between both of them the car ride to the crime scene. She wanted to ask what his deal was but she didn’t want there to be more anger in the air when they got to their destination.

While they were examining the crime scene and talking with the town sheriff, Spencer undermined every single thing she asked, said, or thought and it was pissing her off.

After a few hours they were ready to head back to headquarters and Bridgett was furious.

“Hey, Spencer, could you have me a tissue please?” Bridgett asks, motioning to the glove compartment. Spencer sighs loudly, opening the drawer and slamming the door closed hard. That was it.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” Bridgett yells. “Why are you being such a fucking dick? What did I do to you?”

“What are you talking about?”

Bridgett bites her cheek, putting her turn signal on and pulling off to the side of the road.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asks, raising his voice.

“No, what are you doing?! I don’t know why you’re pissed off at me, but you making me look like I don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about when we’re working is not okay. This attitude you’ve had with me all morning is starting to piss me off and I’m over it! What did I do?”

Spencer sits quietly, gathering his thoughts.

“I don’t want to talk to you about it.”

Bridgett was about 2 seconds away from screaming in anger, her hands grip the steering wheel, knuckles white.

“So instead of being a fucking adult you’re choosing to act like a child and not tell me why you’re angry with me? Real mature Spencer. You know, for a genius, you can be real dumb sometimes.” She fires off at him.

“Nice to know that’s what you think of me.” Spencer says quietly, grabbing his satchel, opening the car door and walking away from the car.

Bridgett sits dumbfounded. She gets out of the car, running after him. “Spencer! What are you doing?!”

He has his back turned to her, his cell phone pressed to his ear.

“Spencer, Spencer, Spencer, Spencer.” Bridgett repeats his name over and over again, getting under his skin.

Once he hangs the phone up he begins walking away again.

“Goddamn it! Where are you going?” She shouts, Spencer stopping in his tracks.

“Going back to work. I’m not riding with you back. I called a cab”

“Why are you being like this? What did I do Spencer?!” She was pissed, getting upset, and tired.

“You’re being a shitty friend!” Spencer yells, visibly taken back at what he even just yelled.

Bridgett stares at him, tears clouding her vision. “I’m not a shitty friend.” She says with a light voice. “You really think I’m a shitty friend? All the nights I spent on the phone with you because you were having bad nightmares, the time I went to your house at 3:30am because you called me inconsolable, was there for you because you got a call that your mom was having a bad day and you felt guilty for putting her in a mental hospital. All of that I was there for you and you still have the audacity to call me a shitty friend? Really?”

Spencer doesn’t make eye contact with her, his feet kicking the pavement under him. Bridgett walks back to the car, tears flowing down her cheeks at his words. She sits in the car, watching Spencer sit on the sidewalk, waiting for his cab, his head turning every so often to see the car still parked several feet away. Bridgett openly sobbed in the car, she was sensitive enough as it was, but having her best friend call her a shitty friend broke her. She waits in the car until she sees a yellow cab pull up next to Spencer and him get in it. Even though he just pissed her off, she didn’t want him to be by himself in the middle of nowhere. Once she sees him get in she drives off toward the office, still sniffling and the occasional tear rolling down her cheek.

Once she pulls into the parking spot back at the office, she slowly walks inside, trying to get her mind together before having to go back and face the rest of the team. She walks through the doors, throwing the case file on her desk and grabbing her bag to go home.

“Hey, where’s Spence?” Derek asks, popping up behind her.

“Fuck if I know.” Bridgett mumbles, turning to walk out for the day.

“Wait! Where are you going? What happened? Are you crying?” Derek rattles his questions off one after the other.

Bridgett continues walking out, ignoring Derek talking to her. She presses the elevator down button, waiting for it to come. She feels someone next to her, Derek. She sighs, folding her arms over her chest. The doors open, both of them walking in.

“What’s wrong?”

Bridgett clears her throat, choking back a sob.

“Spencer and I got into it… he got out of the car on the way back and called a cab to come get him because we were yelling at each other. He called me a shitty friend.”

“He’s going to kill me for saying this, but the reason he left on Saturday was because he was angry that you brought that kid with you to the party. He sort of has a thing for you.”

“Everyone keeps telling me that, you, Garcia, but he hasn’t made a move on me. I’m not going to wait for him to do it. I know that sounds mean but I can’t wait forever.”

Derek nods his head. “I know. I’ve been trying to tell him. And I told him the other night too. I’ve never seen him so mad. It definitely didn’t help that he was drinking everything in sight. But I can tell you that you’re not a shitty friend. Spencer just says what’s on his mind when he’s mad.”

“So that means he has it in his head that I’m shitty to him.”

Derek shakes his head, giving her a tight hug.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying. Let me talk to him. See if I can get him to calm down. Go home, I’ll tell Hotch you got sick on the job and take the rest of the day to make yourself feel better, alright?”

Bridgett nods, giving him a hug.

***

Bridgett grabs the plate of her favorite comfort meal, breakfast food drenched in hot sauce, and takes it over to the couch, flipping through the tv channels to find something to watch for the night. Her favorite movie was already loaded into her DVD player from the last time she watched it, and that was probably what she was going to settle for. As she takes a huge mouthful of eggs there’s a soft knock at the door. She groans, quickly chewing her food, opening the door quickly. Spencer is standing there, his head down, fidgeting with the leather strap across his chest.

“Hi.” He says quietly.

“Hello.” Bridgett responds, a hint  of attitude in her tone, still a little bitter at him for his earlier outburst.

Spencer bites his bottom lip, awkwardly fixing her doormat with his foot to straighten it out.

“I was wondering if I could talk… if we could talk.”

“What about?” She asks, crossing her arms over her chest, still not letting him inside.

“I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.” Finally looking into Bridgett’s eyes.

“Oh really? Okay well I’m listening.”

Spencer sighs, tapping his fingers on his bag.

“Derek told me that you went back to work crying… about what I said to you and I didn’t mea-“

Bridgett interrupts, just to get under his skin. “What did you say to me? I forgot.” She questions, her voice thick with sarcasm.

Well she isn’t going to make this easy.

“I… I called you a shitty friend. And I didn’t mean it, Bridge. I was angry and I should have never said it because it’s far from the truth. You’re the only true friend I’ve ever had, and I feel like such a dick for saying it to you. I probably can’t ever apologize enough to make up for it, but my apology is genuine.”

Bridgett continues to stare at him for a few seconds, she could tell he really was sorry for his harsh words, and even if she wanted to, she couldn’t be mad at him.

“Come in.” She moves from the middle of the doorway, letting Spencer in. He walks in, following her to the couch.

“I want you to be honest with me, because I already know the answer to the question.”

Spencer nods his head, playing with a loose string on her throw pillows.

“Do you have romantic feelings for me?”

Spencer’s eyes grow wide, almost in a cartoonish way. He drops eye contact with Bridgett, his heart beating a million miles per hour.

Tell her. Tell her now. She already knows. Tell. Her.

“Yeah.” He says, no sound coming out of his mouth, his vocal chords frozen. He clears his throat, “Yeah, I have feelings for you. I have for a while now.”

“How long is a while?” Bridgett questions, feeling a bit of relief that he finally admits it.

“476 days. Since the night at the hotel… in Idaho. Well actually 388 days before that, it’s kinda why what happened in Idaho… happened. So 864 days total.”

Bridgett nods her head, trying to hide the smirk on her face, remembering very fondly of what happened in Idaho.

“And why did you feel the need to hide the fact you had feelings for me that weren’t just sexual feelings? Why do you think that you couldn’t tell me you liked me in a romantic way?”

“I don’t know. I was scared that you were going to laugh in my face when I told you that I fell in lo-.” He stops himself before he says the word.

“Fell in love with me?” Bridgett asks, finishing his sentence.  

He nods his head, afraid to say the words.

“I wouldn’t laugh at you. And to be honest with you, I would be lying to myself if I said I didn’t like you too. I haven’t been in love with you for 800 days, but I do love you.”

Spencer stays quiet, smiling to himself. “864 days.”

Bridgett rolls her eyes and elbows his arm playfully.

“Oh, so sorry 864 days. Since we’re talking about how many days we’ve been in love with each other, I've been in love with you for about…” Bridgett pauses as she does the math in her head, not anywhere close to how fast Spencer’s brain worked. “730 days.”

“Really?”

Bridgett nods her head, “Yeah, it’s kinda hard not to love you. You know what solidified my love for you? Do you remember when we were flying back from Seattle, and you were exhausted, we were sitting together, we had barely been in the air for 20 minutes and I felt your head rest on my shoulder. I looked over at you and you were passed out. I put my head on yours and I fell asleep too. When I woke up, Emily had a picture on her phone she had taken of us and I knew that I loved you.”

Spencer touched Bridgett’s cheek with his thumb softly, staring at her deep brown eyes. He takes Bridgett’s hand in his, holding them close to his chest.

“I love you Bridgett, and I really want to make you happy.”

She lets go of his hands and places both of them on each side of his face, giving him a smile.

“I forgive you.” She says softly, kissing his lips. “And I love you too.”

“So does this mean you’re my… girlfriend?”

Bridgett kisses his lips softly, smiling at him lovingly.

“Yes, yes it does mean I’m your girlfriend. You good with that?”

“Very. I’m very good with that.”

[amlovelies]

34 for chargestep

thank you for the prompt anon 💜 I started writing this from Ric’s point of view but then changed my mind and rewrote the whole thing

34. The feel of fingers brushing together by accident

from the sensory prompt list

presque vu

fandom: fhr

pairing: Ricardo Ortega/nb!sidestep (Vesper Bui)

rating: T reference to death and some language Vesper is a jerk. angst

words: 2.2k

read on ao3

            The coffee shop is a familiar sight. You could squint and almost pretend it was seven years ago except the awning has been bleached by the sun. You remember the trees as thin anemic things, and now they tower over your head. Large enough to conceal you as you watch Ortega pacing near the entrance.

                He hasn’t noticed you yet; you could still walk away. Stand him up, maybe then he’ll quit asking, quit trying. You shouldn’t even be here. Why was it so hard to resist him?

                You know why

.                  It’s should be easier now. It should be easier to tell him to fuck off and leave you alone. You know how this story ends. He’ll leave you behind. He’ll drag you out into the world, make you a person, make you real, and then leave you

.                 You catch a thought of a woman walking by. She’s a pretty young thing, long legs on display, hair falling in shining waves over her shoulders. She’s noticed Ortega, recognized him. Trying to working up the courage, debating with herself, should she approach him? It’s not every day you see a super hero in the flesh. It would take nothing, just the tiniest tweak, give her the confidence and make her walk over. He never could resist a pretty face. He’d forget all about meeting you for coffee. It would be the smarter thing to do.

                 You don’t do that. Instead, you make her forget, add in a little anxiety, a certainty that she is going to be late to quicken her step. Instead of doing the smart thing and walking away you let yourself be drawn to him. Inexorable.

                “There you are,” his smile is wide.

               “Did you think I stood you up?”

               A nervous chuckle, “maybe a little. It’s good to see you.” He means it. Or at least you think he does. So hard to interpret like trying to identify an object by feel alone. Familiar shapes that itch and scratch at your memory.                  A chill down your spine as you walk inside. Like stepping into your own past, but then you look closer. It’s not the same. The walls are the same color, a soft brown, and the layout remains the same, but the décor is more modern. The tables sleeker, lower backs on the chairs, more outlets for people working off laptops. So similar but not the same. You can’t go back.

                He frowns when you order a red eye, gets ready to say something, but you shoot him a glare which shuts him up. He’s the one who suggested coffee; he can’t act concerned when you order it. Probably noticed the slight tremor to your hands. So observant sometimes, and then at others so willfully obtuse. 

               Maybe he only sees what he wants to. The bags under your eyes fit the narrative he wants. The one where you are just a broken shell of the person you used to be. Just waiting for him to come along and put you back together. An insomniac with jittery hands instead of bloody ones. 

               “I thought for sure this place would have gone out of business,” you say before taking a sip of your coffee. It’s good, rich and earthy with just a hint of caramelly sweetness from the espresso. It’s a world of difference from the gas station drip and instant crap you’ve been mainlining for the last few years. “You’re really leaning into the nostalgia factor here, Ric”

                “Have to use all the weapons in my arsenal,” he says with a wink.

                “You never were any good at tactics, old man.”

                His smile is wide much more dangerous than a familiar cup of coffee. Always too contagious, that was how he drew you in. Made you believe you could have a life.

                “I don’t know from where I’m sitting it worked. I got you here, didn’t I?” Smug. Always so smug and confident, taking up too much space. Somehow feeling too close even though there’s a table between you and he’s not leaning forward. “Besides, I didn’t have to be good at them, I had you.” Now he is soft and that is worse. Trying to catch your gaze, a hand sliding out as if to grab yours.

                A twitch, an urge to reach out. To take his hand and pretend he didn’t leave you, pretend you could be a person, that you can feel. No. shut that door. Shut it down hard. “Someone had to save your reckless ass. It’s a miracle you only got me killed once.” You scoff.

                You aren’t looking at him as you say it. Maybe you should be, get to see the hit land. You want to hurt him, right? To punish him, because this is all his fault

.                 A strangled sound, and you can’t help but look up. He looks worse than he did when you visited in the hospital. “Are you ready to give up now?” you keep your voice cold. Maybe this will make him open his stupid eyes and realize you aren’t his old friend. They’re gone. Just as much as Anathema

.                 “No,” his voice is determined but you recognize that smile. You’ve seen it a dozen times. When a fight was going south, when things looked hopeless. He’d flash that smile, and somehow, you’d always made it out. Well almost. “I’ve got a thicker skin than that, Bui.”

               “Idiot,” you shake your head. It had felt so good to hurt him at the gala. Why did it feel so bad now?

               “Sure,” he agrees, “but you’re still here.”

               You are still here. It used to be so easy. You’ve felt nothing but rage for so many years. Nothing but the fire inside you, and then he walked into that stupid diner. Emotions had never been your strong suit. Even when you were trying to be a person it was still hard. Still hard to understand what you were feeling or how you were supposed to act. He was always the worst of it. At least with others you could take cues from their mind. He gave you nothing, gives you nothing. “I never said I wasn’t an idiot too,” you say with a sigh as you run a hand down your face.

                “Walk?” He’s already standing as if he knows your answer. Part of you want to be petulant to stay, to not follow his lead, but you stand up too

.                 The park across the street isn’t busy. There are a few kids on the playground, looks like it’s gotten a new corporate sponsor. For all it’s shiny new colors it still looks much like you remember it. There’s a woman on a bench reading a romance novel and sighing wistful as she thinks of her new coworker. Some teens are buying weed behind the bathrooms. Nothing dangerous and it’s easy to make the two of you pass unnoticed

.                 Walking is good. You don’t have to look at him, but you are still aware of him. Walking too close, he never had any respect for personal space

.                 His fingers brush against yours. You could call it an accident, but you can feel his eyes on you. You wait, sure he has something to say, but for once he keeps his mouth shut. Just the gentle knock of his knuckles against yours. Are there scars there from where he broke himself against your armor? It had made you smile once thinking that he’d be marked. Marked by you the same way you’ve been marked by him. Now you aren’t so sure

.                  “I don’t know how to do this,” the admission is quiet, and you hate how your voice sounds. It’s a small vulnerable thing like the pieces of yourself you left on the sidewalk seven years ago

.                 “Do what?”

                “Talk-“ a frustrated sigh- “be around you. Have friends.” You lengthen your stride, but he keeps up easily. Of course, he does. Nothing you do ever seems to really shake him, but he could always get under your skin                “Maybe you just need practice?”

               Instead of an answer you walk over to a nearby bench and take a seat. You take a sip from your coffee to avoid speaking. It’s growing cold, but you hesitate to finish it. You still need it. Need something to keep your hands busy, something to fill the awkwardness between you

.                 “Do you remember the kites-“ he begins to ask gesturing to the open field and large tree  in front of you

.                 “Yeah, I do,” You smile before adding, “I still think we should have invited Sentinel.”

               “No,” his answer is firm, just like it had been back then, but his voice is lighter than it’s been all morning. “That would have been cheating.”

               “Easy to say when you weren’t the one who had to climb the tree,” you say with a laugh. You’d been taught laughter as a technique. It was a tool, to be deployed at the right moments, to set others at ease. So different from the involuntary reaction it was around him. He was always too good at drawing it out of you. “Who knew the Marshal of Los Diablos would struggle so much with something so simple as flying a kite.”

                He bumps his shoulder against yours, “I didn’t want to rob you of part of the experience.”

                You remember he’d waxed philosophical about the importance of doing it the old-fashioned way. Of running to gather speed and watching it begin to soar behind you, that it was more fun if it took a couple tries. Empty words about childhood magic and how he hoped you could recapture it, that he could show this little piece that must have been missing from yours. He would never really understand it wasn’t just about kites, or making s’mores, or playing pirates. It wasn’t just particular experiences you were missing but the whole thing.

                You’d never had a childhood. There was nothing to recapture because you never had it in the first place. Just like you’d never had a name until he teased and cajoled you to give him one. All you had was incubation tubes and handlers and endless white walls. There was nothing magical about the chains on your wrist, the chains on your mind, the monsters that stalked the halls

.                “Bui?” you hear his voice as if from a distance. There’s a child crying somewhere and you know it’s because of you. The park has emptied. The romance novel lies forgotten on the bench, too much of a hurry to get away from you. Unable to stand even a hint of your memories. Good, they should run.

                  You’re the monster now.

                He doesn’t seem to notice the effect you have. He’s only looking at you. Eyes wide and a concerned wrinkle between his brow. This is something he could never understand. How could he? He’s untouched. Untouched with his unknowable static mind. You wish you could take it in your hands and twist it into a shape you could recognize. Something that you could interpret and begin to understand, but it always slips out. Like trying to grab mist or sunlight. You can feel it against your skin, against your shields, but you can’t affect it.

                “It’s fine.”

                You don’t need to read his mind to know he doesn’t believe you. Ortega may be a fool, but he was never stupid.

                His hand brushes against yours again. Slower this time, lingering, letting his finger drag along yours. It tingles. If you didn’t know better, you’d say it was his mods acting up, but you’ve been shocked by him before and it felt nothing like this.

                It’s an itch under your skin driving you to some sort of action. To punch him in the face or pull him in and kiss him. You don’t do either, just pull your hand away.

                “You don’t have to do that.” His voice is quiet, gentle, just like the touch of his hand had been.

                “I’m not doing anything.”

               “Yes, you are. I can see you’re pretending to be fine when you aren’t. I know you better than that.” There’s something in his eyes, something begging you to give in, to let him in.

                You want to. Some small stupid part of your brain remembering how it felt. How it felt to be real, to be more than just an instrument of vengeance. To be a person. To laugh.

                You shake your head, “not anymore.”  You know how that ends. Rising form the bench, you burn away that little voice, the one that wants to stay, to take his hand, to let him care about you. All you have is your fire. You won’t let his stupid brown eyes and fond memories douse the flames. He’d be disappointed if he did anyway. Can’t he tell there’s nothing left of you but ashes?

               “Vesper,” he calls after you begin to walk away.

                “Just give up, Ric,” you don’t turn around as you say it. You just start walking, one foot in front of the other.

                He doesn’t get up, but his words follow you as you exit the park, “I won’t.”

                 It’s just like him to get the last word in. 

[sunflowersteves]

𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 ❅ 𝒋𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒔𝒐𝒏

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Jack just looks too good in an ugly holiday sweater. 

author’s notes: lmao this one i think is my favorite one so far. Also, I’m dedicating this to @fandomsandxfiles​ because it’s jack aksksks. anyway i hope you enjoy!!

warnings: making out, fluff

holiday prompts m.list

You were not paying much attention to your co-workers in front of you as they babble on about something that happened to them last week. You honestly didn’t care much, especially when a certain chief was smirking right back at you from across the room.

When he walked through your friend's apartment, you half expected him to show up in his normal attire: a nice button down with a fancy tie, a darker over-jacket, and perfect brown shoes. But today is the one day he didn’t have his normal suit and tie, no. 

To your dismay, he decided to wear an ugly sweater that had ‘jingle my bells’ written across his chest. The colors were those of holiday ones: greens, reds, whites, and blues clashed against one another. 

Your eyes never left his figure as he laughed at something one of his coworkers said, his hand nursing a cup of eggnog. For split second, his eyes meet yours, and his lips curl into a smirk.

The worst part about all of this?

He looked good in them. He looked good in a goddamn ugly holiday sweater. It matched his stupid gorgeous eyes and his dumb blonde hair, he just looked so good. It wasn’t fair, honestly; your eyes never could leave one place and would trail down the sweater. Did he know how good he looked?

You turn your attention back to your co-worker, hoping that you didn’t seem too distracted by Jack. Your co-worker started to laugh at whatever part of a story he was telling, so you laugh along—hoping that your disguise was still intact. 

When you turn to peer over at Jack, again you see that he’s not where he was before, just the two co-workers that were talking to him. You furrowed your eyebrows as you excused yourself; that itch to go find him was slowly growing. 

You walked all around the house, looking for him in the kitchen, then sauntering off into the dining room, and you finally circled your way back to the living room. But he was nowhere to be found. 

As you stared at the bustling people, laughing and talking their night away, you felt a slight pull to your wrist. A gasp leaves your lips as you’re shoved harshly backward and into the darkened hallway. You were about to knee whoever the fuck this was until you hear his sweet honey-laced voice. 

“I could feel you staring, sweetheart. Couldn’t get enough of me, huh?”

It was Jack, of course. Your Jack. You giggle slightly at his gesture of getting the two of you away from everyone, his arms coming to wrap around your waist. You didn’t waste your chance with a response and dove into his lips. He immediately reciprocated, and his lips molded with yours; the smile that his face had lit up with never left. 

Your hands went to bunch up the soft material on his chest, a quiet whimper leaving your already sore lips. You could feel Jack’s rapid heartbeat against your own; the stinging warmth of his hands made you shiver with delight. The sweet taste of his lips was addicting as they swallowed your own—a mix between light and rough kisses while they became sore and swollen. Your tongue swirls around his, and he sucks gently, prompting a moan from your throat.

His arms pulled you in even further as if it was even possible; your hands moved up and down the toe-curling feel of the cheap sweater. Jack softly whimpers when you break your lips but instantly shuts up when you start trailing kisses down his neck. 

“You’re so p-pretty, sweetheart. S-So pretty-”

He interrupts himself with a small whine due to your teeth coming to clash against his neck—nipping and biting the rough pads of his skin. His hands move themselves to the nape of your neck, almost as though he’s encouraging you to keep going. Despite groaning when you heard that there was a holiday work party, you were definitely starting to enjoy the idea now. 

“God, sweet baby, I can’t seem to get enough of you.”

Your tongue soothes the sore areas, making his breath hitch instantly at the alleviated feeling. What you couldn’t get enough of was the soft pleas and noises he was making, they were like music to your ears. 

“Hey, Jack- oh!”

Peggy’s eyes are wide as she looks at Jack and your disheveled form. Red lipstick practically covered his lips and chin, leaving an entire trail down his neck. His sweater was bunched and rumpled, while his hair stuck up at every single side most likely ruining all of the perfectly styled gel in his hair. 

And you were sure you didn’t look any bit better. Your lips were most likely swollen—they felt swollen anyway—and you were one-hundred percent certain that you looked like a total mess. 

Peggy rolls her eyes and huffs, “you two are unbelievable.”

marvel: @harrysthiccthighss​ @fandomsandxfiles​ @rebekahdawkins​

jack thompson: @haloxmendes​

permanent: @captainchrisstan​ @angstysebfan​ @teenagereadersciencenerd​ @rebekahdawkins​ @hailmary-yramliah​​ @stardust-galaxies​ @wiccanmetallicrose​ @keithseabrook27​

[pikaflute]

hi, sudafed cleared my sinuses long enough to think so here’s a giant post about most of my charles headcanons

Playlist

OH btw here’s my 4 hour and 23 minute playlist for Charles. Enjoy. Yes I know I’m insane: https://open.spotify.com/user/pikaflute24/playlist/4DBxaaxbqsmJt9Fvl8AgwZ?si=OcXlYCdFRzOhuKa4p_HdUQ

General Headcanons

He was born November 24 1965. He’s currently 56, but I usually write him in his late 40s in most fanfic and content I make. So there’s this middle aged man....

He has hazel eyes. Sometimes they look green, sometimes brown. Sometimes they’ll be white but that’s when he’s using his magic so mind your business

Gear brand over his heart >:)c

:) i think he has piercings and tattoos, a skull (dead man teehee) on his upper arm, a tattoo of a date (the date pickles and him first met TEEHEE) on his left arm also has a tattoo on his arm of the day he “died” on his right. had his ears pierced when he was a teen.

Has a sweet tooth so hard. Smuggles in treats into the drawers of his desk just to snack on during the day and has a mini fridge just filled with ice cream and also sorts of other goodies. He loves brownies and cookies the most

Likes to work out and keep himself in shape. it takes his mind off of stressful things like work and the boys, and just take his morning practice sparring and doing various exercises in the mordhaus gym. 

he’s uh also very flexible so he does yoga a lot when he exercises. don’t. look too deep into that

cannot cook to save his life. he almost burned mordhaus down trying to make himself a sandwich

he can play guitar! he used to play it more often when he was younger but he rarely has the time to play it nowadays. when he does get to play it, it’s usually in private (and mainly songs by dethklok), or it’s to show off to a certain lead guitarist that yes he is playing that solo wrong

he’s ambidextrous but prefers using his right hand. he’ll use his left hand to spar in order to go easy on his opponents because hes a smug cunt

he’s 5′7 but intimidation factor adds a couple inches doesn’t it

has a scorpion named princess as a pet. he lets her sit on his desk sometimes and it scares the shit out of dethklok which makes charles laugh on the inside

hes also a cat person. one time toki brought a cat home and it settled on charles’ lap and he almost cried

loves to be a smug asshole and relishes in it. will not take shit from anyone, especially from some asshole who is trying to pull one over on him

he has no idea how social media works at all. will print memes out to show to dethklok, he’s very fond of cat memes specifically (i can has cheeseburger type beat)

he has no idea what any internet memes means he isn’t going to start learning. he is going to misuse internet phrases. are you boys, ah, finding the imposter? [cue five groans from dethklok]

knows a lot of languages. not a comprehensive list but: french, swedish, norwegian, spanish, italian, japanese, chinese, german, russian and korean

is very competitive. scarily competitive. once he starts losing in smash or mario kart all hell will break lose

very bad at showing emotions or affection, when he gets compliments he gets all red and quiet and mumbles a thank you. 

weird about being touched as well and will usually avoid it unless it’s with someone he trusts

speaking of, his love language is acts of service :)c

hates being called charlie or chuck, unless the right person calls him it ;)

he’s autistic. was nonverbal for most of his life and only talked to certain people, or anyone at all. he stims with his hands and uses his pens to fidget.

has a collection of novelty socks. he likes the ones that have polka dots or stripes

sleeps with a garfield plushie he had since he was younger. it helps him with the nightmares

when any of the boys need help sleeping (usually toki or pickles), he’ll sleep with them in his bed. after dying he had trouble sleeping some nights, so dethklok returned the favor and all piled up in his bed and helped him sleep. he didnt have nightmares after that night

hes nearsighted, and prefers to wear glasses over contacts

lactose intolerant, hes still eating mac n cheese and paying the price

metalhead but pretends to not be just to mess with his boys

crippling addiction to match 3 games. also loves to play minecraft.

overly self sacrificial. puts ones he love needs before his own, results in himself being very isolated and distant from those he cares about because he’s afraid of hurting them

his favorite colors are black and purple

coffee kinda guy. black coffee or bust

has a lot of cute novelty mugs to put his coffee in. he ones from places where dethklok tours, dethklok official ones (the only two that aren’t adorned with spikes), some cat themed ones, a couple that have ties and math references, and one from his boys that says “most brutal manager”. he drinks out of that last one the most

he has a couple of grey hairs and wrinkles, but he keeps them because they remind him that he’s human. also pickles said old men were hot but you didnt hear that from me

likes to play chess but he can never find a good opponent. all the klokateers are too scared if they win and dethklok is too distracted to ever play with him or they end up losing to quickly if charles plays against them

really wants kids. he babies his sister’s sons and daughters a TON (uncle charles always brings the best gifts :) ) and also treats toki like his own son in a way. toki doesnt mind, he really appreciates the love

speaking of, toki does call charles dad once and it makes charles cry for like. a week and a half

his favorite dethklok song is the gears :)

he likes to collect knives as a side hobby, his favorite of his collection is a sleek black one with skulls on the handle

he has a motorcycle and likes to drive it around sometimes to just be alone with himself. it’s all black with a red gear on it

lightweight but only if he drinks the amount dethklok drinks. can hold his alcohol fairly well if he drinks like a sensible human, prefers brandy and wine

he can smoke cigars to be sexy for me and me ONLY

likes to read in his spare time. he likes mystery novels and science fiction

he has soft spot for cheesy sitcoms, they’re his guilty pleasure

his favorite youtuber is lockpickinglawyer. yours should be too

usually sleeps in only his boxers but will wear a shirt if its’s cold. he tends to sleep on his side (also wants to be the little spoon when cuddled but he will never admit that)

takes vacations sometimes away from the boys despite his worry that something will go wrong (it will!). many of his vacations are usually going to visit his family and going to the shore with them, or travelling to somewhere new for a change (cue charles being a yakuza substory on his one vacation per year)

he can sew pretty well. learned from his mom and used to sew the whole his sister use to put through her soccer uniform.

can also do makeup, and usually does it for one of the boys of there’s no one else around to help

bites his lip when he’s nervous. which is a lot

likes chococat and gudetama. he’s a man of tastes

laughs really loud if you catch him off guard. he snorts sometimes too. he’s embarrassed by it, but i think its’ cute

loves law and order obviously 

he likes men

has a lot of pent up rage. very good at compressing it. sometimes

as high priest, he stays up very late trying to decipher the ancient prophecies that dethklok needed to fulfill. he doesnt sleep very much when he starts out because he misses home, so the band makes him come back (or else)

also as high priest he becomes more intune with magic granted to him after he died and he mainly uses his magic to protect his boys when they go back to being a band. also to fuck with them

the band he managed before dethklok was a band named savior who said they were a metal band with a unique sound, but that unique sound was actually just being a christian metal band that were bad at playing music. they also treated charles like shit and blamed him for them doing so poorly with sales and shows. had an unfortunate “accident” with a tour bus after charles had enough of their attitude towards him.  he denies he had anything to do with it (he did.)

Family/Childhood

He’s the baby of the family. Spoiled rotten to the max. He doesn’t admit it though but whenever he comes home you know he abuses the “:)c im the favorite” card

He has 4 older sisters: Caroline who is a high school civics teacher, Cynthia who is a librarian, Callie who is a coach for a soccer team, and Charlotte who is a lawyer/manager who manages Ladyklok, which gets awkward (and funny) when Abigail starts dating the lead singer Natalie

charles is actually one of the tallest in his family. his dad is 6’1 and his older sister Callie is 5’11. cynthia is 5’6, caroline is 5’6, and his mom and charlotte are 5’5.

his mom is a doctor and his dad is an accountant. his mom’s name is giovanna and his dad’s name is elijah

caroline is the oldest sister, followed by cynthia, callie, charlotte then charles.

Charlotte and Charles are sworn enemies since they were born on the same day a year apart and basically have the same job. They do love each other though

His father calls him Charles. Caroline and Cynthia call him Charlie. Callie calls him Chuck. Charlotte calls him Charles (derogatory). His mom calls him a whole slew of nicknames that she made up when he was young (she calls him cheese ball and he turns red)

caroline has a wife (lauren who is a chef) and two kids (evan and shelby)

cynthia is dating a coworker (viola)

callie has a husband (john who is a stay at home dad) and they have three kids (brenda, melissa, and jeff)

charlotte is dating ladyklok (and abigail). this is a weird flex on charles i think.

He had a race car bed when he was like 5

He also was also one of those kids at family game night. He almost killed Cynthia over a game of monopoly

Always got to lick the spoon first after his mom baked brownies

He grew up in North Jersey (derogatory) (also yes im projecting state shot)

He’s also Italian (derogatory)

He got bullied in middle school for a little bit but once his older sisters found out, oh boy did all hell break loose

Was in band in high school. He played flute (DONT TALK TO ME I LIKE PROJECTING), he was of course a soloist and incredibly smug about it

Took gymnastics as a kid. Can do a backflip on command. Also very flexible.

First manager gig was helping his sisters sell girl scout cookies. They raked in a lot of profits when baby bro was behind the scenes. His cut was eating thin mints for free

Loved Star Trek when he was a kid

Was incredibly gifted, and taught himself to read at a young age. didn’t talk that much though

was always sick when he was little. he would always get sinus infections and colds if someone even sneezed weird

was in mock trial in high school. one guy on his team was a jerk to him so charles made it a point to be this poor kid’s nemesis

was on the student council, treasurer of course.

was also in nhs, and he was treasurer there too

was that kid who insisted on doing the group project by himself because he didn’t want to wait on anyone to finish their part

was super rowdy as a kid, always got into trouble but his mom was a little lenient of punishment (hes a mommas boy)

when he was like super young he bit people cause he was just a little monster (charles' sisters: mom charles is biting again. charles, biting one of them: im not :/ sheesh)

wanted to be a lawyer since he was 7

put his own siblings and parents on trial and would win every trial and would always get the last cookie or a higher allowance

he shared his room with his sister Charlotte and they would set up a pillow fort on one of the beds and stay up late reading together 

loved going to the beach as a kid, his mom still has his collection of shells from the beach

on the boardwalk, he would dominate at claw machines anad carnival games. he won a bunch of plushies from himself (and his sisters obviously)

his dad and him have a super close bond. they watched star trek together and also like to watch how the stock market would do. his dad was also sometimes the judge in charles’ mock trials at home

they were very supportive when he came out as gay, he was also the first of his sibilings to come out of the closet

College

Got his masters in business management at rutgers and a JD (law degree) from seton hall law.

Started college when he was 18 (1983) and ended college when he was 26 (1991)

Wasn’t a party guy. Never got invited to many, but he never went unless a certain redhead was in town

Sustained himself off of ramen, coffee, and SSRIs to get his masters (hey man i feel ya)

Did weed like three times. Three of those times were because of, you guessed it, a certain redhead

Speaking of, his first time having sex was in his dorm with Pickles. Pickles also kicked him off of the bed (those beds are fucking tiny) while they slept, and almost burned Charles’ dorm down trying to make toast the next morning

Absolute did not do essays until the night before. Bad habit that made it’s way into Dethklok managing when he’s forced to write a legal brief before 12 am.

Loved calculus 2 for some reason. Nerd

Had a mullet. Pickles thought it was hot (still is) while Charles would rather die than remember anything about that horrid hairdo

Also went through his goth/emo phase while in Law School. He stuck out amongst the sea of sweater vests and polo shirts

Was in a band with his fellow college bandmates. The band was called Habeas Corpses and he was the lead singer who also played guitar. Their sound was kind of similar to TWRP’s first two EPs (The Device and 2nite). they had a grunge aesthetic, and yes charles dyed his mullet black (with a purple streak), for the band.

his bandmates were all fellow law students. dillan was on drums, margaret was their bass guitar, and nick was their keyboardist. all three of them also got tutored by charles while in law school. they are still best friends and write to each other sometimes

Was on the debate team, but uh kicked off due to be very competitive (he threatened to punch the opposing debater)

Was also in the chess club, also kicked off for being too competitive (lunged at a kid for cheating)

After being kicked from the two previous clubs, he joined fencing, his very competitive nature made him the best in the state

nick (the guy in charles’ band) was charles’ roommate the whole time they were in college. they may or may not have had a brief relationship before they realized they would be better as friends

nick also has a nes and charles loved to played zelda and wrote an entire guide for himself because he’s was that into the game (nerd)

occasionally would be found sleeping in the library on campus

wanted to be an RA but the resident association at his schools thought he was a little much. charles took this as a compliment

worked out a lot between studying and classes. a lot of jocks underestimated him because of his size but charles was just :) [casually lifts something heavy]

a lot of fellow classmates thought he was super cool cause of the leather he wore, and how cool and quiet he was, too bad they didnt know he was a huge nerd

tried skateboarding. once.

had a cadillac that barely started and drove like a piece of shit but that was charles’ baby

pickles tried to have sex with charles in said car btw, charles almost killed him for even daring to suggest to tarnish his beautiful baby

has damaged his back permanently because of all the books he used to carry around in his crappy back pack

did some modelling for one of his friends in college. he was very attractive and got some other modelling job through it. he tries to hide that from the boys in the future because he thinks it’s embarrassing

Relationship with Dethklok

Pickles - he’s known the drummer the longest out of any other member, and if you couldn’t tell by now, he had a brief relationship with the drummer back in the 80s (and maybe also still has a crush on him :)). charles respects and admires pickles’ talent as a musician and sometimes they play together when they have time alone. he tries to be there when pickles has a relapse in either emotions with his family or something else, but still tries to maintain a distance because he thinks that pickles doesn’t feel the same as he did in the 80s. (he does btw). nothing could break the bond these two share. not even death

Nathan - understands nathan’s quiet nature (nonverbal kings!) and strive for perfection in everything dethklok creates because he is the same way. their similarities allow them to connect on a level that allows nathan to open up about his feelings that he likes to lock away. nathan also gets charles to open his feelings up and actually care for himself for once in his damn life. charles also helps nathan with the depression he develops after charles dies and how to deal with it despite it being not brutal. nathan wants to give back and he does by becoming one of charles’ closest friends (and maybe even lovers hehehe)

Toki - charles has taken it upon himself to be toki’s father figure after seeing the way toki’s family has left him for essentially dead. ever since toki joined the band, charles has made it a point to be there for him whenever he needed it. even if it meant spending late nights reading to toki or sleeping over in toki’s room to help him sleep, he’ll do it. he blames himself for toki’s disappearance but toki assures him that he did the best he could. toki calls him dad a lot after doomstar. it makes charles cry.

Skwisgaar - unstoppable asshole meets immovable object. skwisgaar sees himself above everyone else like he does with the other dethklok members but with charles, skwisgaar knows that charles isn’t intimidated by him nor will he bow to the guitar god in anyway. this develops a game of cat and mouse between the two, with skwisgaar trying to no subtly push charles’ buttons and to see what makes him ticks, while charles resist him at every turn with a smug ‘:) is that all you got’ and it delights him to finally see the guitarist squirm under pressure.

Murderface - at first the two are very. distant to say the least. murderface used to see charles as unemotional robot and charles was fine with that and accepted the distance. overtime however, and especially after charles died, murderface warmed up to charles confiding in him things he hasn’t told the band, mainly things about his insecurities because charles is ‘fucking smart with crap like this’. and charles helps him and is happy to see him work out his problems and not bottle them anymore like the rest of his bandmates. charles also enjoys murderface’s company as a friend as well. and….he’s gonna help murderface the most with the whole traitor stuff too.

Abigail - mlm and wlw hostility. but seriously they’re good buds. he sympathizes with having to deal the moronic actions of dethklok on a daily basis and also thinks she’s really intelligent and overall fun to hang out with. they take lunch breaks frequently together and like to make fun of people at dethklok dinners together as a fun activity together. abigail will bully his ass once she finds out she’s dating charles’ sister and WILL bring up those baby pictures to get a higher raise thank you very much

Knubbler - can you say coworker besties! like abigail, he gets along because they both have to deal with dethklok being, well dethklok, but with knubbler, charles can relax a little more. the two cause problems on purpose just because they can. the two are also close friends and knubbler tries to get charles to relax for once in his life, and despite charles protests and objections, he sometimes caves and hands out with his friend (maybe boyfriend OOOOO who knows)

Sex Headcanons (IM SORRY)

um maybe he can have a giant dick (10 inches for me), it do be swinging though

daddy kink (everyone stay on this side, ill take care of him….come to daddy ;)c)

likes to do roleplay. he has a lot of costumes prepared for when his partner wants to do a scene with him

likes to bite and be bitten during sex. after a very long night, he’ll be covered in bite marks, it’s kinda hot

no gag reflex ;) he likes to deepthroat but good luck trying to get him to go down on you without him teasing

remember how i said he was flexible like eight times? yeah he uh, uses that a lot to his advantage. likes being fucked in weird positions because of it

the suit stays on during sex

he likes topping because he likes to be in control of everything he does all the time, but really wants to be told what to do sometimes and will let those he trusts do that for him

he has a dick piercing i know it

he's a very busy man, so he relies on his huge collection of toys he keeps in his bedroom and office

really good with his hands. as soon as those hands are on you, its game over

he loves to do it on his desk, makes him feel powerful. when he gets blown under his desk, it really takes all of his willpower to not cum immediately

really sensitive in weird places, specifically his ears

he likes to cuddle after sex, hes the little spoon :)

likes to be tied up, sometimes he’ll get tied up under his suit

mating press and riding are his favorite positions, giving and receiving

size queen, likes large toys and well ;)

has a private room that he sometimes goes to relieve stress, it has a fucking machine that he likes to use often when his job gets too stressful

he’s sucking people off at the klokateer glory hole, he’s uh, very good at what he does

likes to be spanked and like to spank

uses collars and leashes

maybe the klokateers can fuck him, if they’re good ;)

freeballing

likes cum on his face but doesn't seem to realize that means he’ll get cum on his glasses and will need to clean them

he can wear a chastity belt :) for me

likes being came in but will still complain about being gross after

pretty much up for anything, he’s not picky, he just wants to be in control and get off

[slashscowboyboots]

The Blackboard Jungle: All I Want For Christmas Is You (Part 4)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Izzy tweeted!  And in celebration, here’s the final part of this fic

Tag list @izzysdenimjacket​ @no-stone-no-bone​ @sexcoffeeandrockandroll @awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands ​ @smokeandmirrorz ​ @sodalitefully ​ @roger-taylors-car ​ @harley-m-rose ​ @whisperess33 ​ @shawolat​ ​ @80snikki @rumoured-whispers

Warnings: the f-bomb, total holiday fluff

You wound your way through the department store, dodging people and wanting to puke from all the Christmas music as you searched for your mother a nice gift.  She was the last one you had to buy for, and you wanted to get her just the perfect thing this year.

I think she has plenty of snow globes, you thought, absentmindedly turning one upside down and watching the glitter float down, then heard someone call your name.

You turned and looked into the grinning face of Miss Peterson, Patti’s third-grade teaching cohort.

“Hiiiii, doll,” she chirped.

“Hello, Cindy, how are you?”

“Oh, I’m just great.  Are you shopping for your boyfriend?”

“My boyfriend?  I don’t-”

“Patti told me all about it.  I mean, well she made a long post on Instagram, how the two of you had been friends for so long, good friends, at least she was to you, and you chose that Jeff Isbell over the happiest day of her life-”

“Did she really?” you snapped.  “Well, since the two of you are so close, please tell her I said, ‘Merry Christmas.’”  And go fuck yourselves, you thought, deciding your mother would enjoy a very nice pair of diamond earrings.

It was unbelievable to you, how you and Jeff were the names on everyone’s lips anymore, especially since it was all so mistaken.  It was heartbreaking how everyone thought you were a couple, when you were simply coworkers who were also close friends.

Of course, you were never able to get him out of your head, especially since the Thanksgiving program.  Your combined classes had first traced their hands and colored their drawings in, decorating their turkey pictures with feathers and googly eyes (you stifled a laugh watching the Harrison twins hungrily eyeing the paste, and snorted when you saw Jeff leaping over a chair with his gangly legs to glue their turkey eyes down himself) and enjoying their lunches together.

He had excused himself during the break, and you paused while eating your sandwich, thinking about how really good he was as a teacher, how he never once talked down to the kids or lost his patience with them.  He always had time to listen to them, hanging onto their every word.

And they loved him in return, every single one of them showing them their turkeys the second they finished them, and the amount of praise he heaped on their artwork made you smile.

Putting away your lunch bag with a sigh, you looked up just in time to see a six foot tall turkey, complete with wattles, standing in the doorway of your classroom.  His tail feathers were so impressive he had to turn sideways just to make it through the doorway.

The children erupted in cheers, and Mr. Isbell strode in and fanned his plumage to their great delight, then announced that if they all quieted down, he would read to them, “Bear Gives Thanks.”  After he closed the book, he asked them what they all were thankful for.

He got various answers, from “my new puppy” to “my dad got a new job.”  But the one that stood out the most was from Cicely Brown.  She raised her hand and said in a quiet voice, “Mr. Isbell, I’m thankful for a teacher like you.”

Tears pooled in his eyes, and you heard a catch in his voice when he whispered, “Thank you.”  He turned around (well, awkwardly walked in a circle to turn around) to you and asked, “Miss Y/L/N, what are you thankful for?”

“Hmmm.  I’m thankful for friends.  And I’m thankful for every person that’s in this room.”

His eyes met yours, his smoldering gaze still able to buckle your knees.  “Me too.”

“But I don’t want to be an elf.”

“Oh, c’mon, Y/N, I went and got an elf costume just for you.  Where’s your Christmas spirit?”

You put your hands on your hips and pouted.  “I have plenty of Christmas spirit.  Why can’t I be Mrs. Claus?”

“Because she doesn’t hand out candy canes.  She stays home and entertains strange men while Santa works all night.”

“Oh, she does not!”  You smacked Jeff’s arm, shaking your head.  He really was going to talk you into this getup, wasn’t he?”

You took it from him and he said, “Hurry up and get changed.  I need you to help me put on the Santa suit.”

“Why do you need help?” you called from the coatroom, pulling your green and red striped tights on.

“Because I make a skinny Santa, and I have to hold the belly while you button the jacket.”

When you came out, he had already changed into his Santa pants and boots and was sitting at your desk expectantly holding a pillow over his chest and stomach.

“Jeff, you really should eat more if you want to wear this suit,” you laughed, buttoning the buttons over his padded belly.

He made a face, and you said, “What?”

“Nobody calls me Jeff except for my mom.”

“What do they call you?” you asked, puzzled.

“Izzy.  Or Iz, if you’re into the whole brevity thing.”  He buckled his belt as all the wind left you, then he slapped your elf hat onto your head.  Flicking the bell to make it jingle, he said, “C’mon, Sugar Cookie, let’s make a bunch of little people happy.”

It was entirely possible that you wished all the students a Joyous Holiday and handed them a candy cane after they visited with Santa.  You had no idea if you actually did, the earth had screamed to a halt after you’d heard Jef-uh, Izzy’s admission.

After all the pupils had left, he shot you a delighted grin, then furrowed his eyebrows at you.  “Hey, are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” you said softly.  “I’m….hot.”

“Me too.  Let’s get changed and go back to the party.”

Although you were dazed, you flung your elf costume off in record time, exiting the coatroom in time to see Izzy unbutton his Santa jacket and toss aside his pillow.  He slumped in your chair clad in a white undershirt, slinging an arm against his forehead to wipe off the sweat, and when he dropped it down beside him you could see a tattoo just below his elbow.

Without thinking, you walked over to him and picked up his wrist.  Written in delicate script high on his inner forearm was desperadosdreams.

He tried to pull away from you, then he noticed you gasping for air with tears in your eyes. “Does that make sense to you?” he asked quietly.

You nodded, then pressed your lips to his, leaning down and throwing your arms around his neck.  When you pulled away for a breath, you looked into his eyes, then pushed the sleeve of your shirt up and extended your arm.

“Does that say IZ?” he asked in a halting voice, and you nodded again, then climbed onto his lap for another passionate kiss.  You carded your fingers through his hair as his lips traveled down the front of your throat, then he rubbed his nose against yours as you heard PJ Jones say, “I saw Miss Teacher kissing Santa Claus.  And he liked it!”

“Hi, Ian!” you smiled, holding up your ring finger.

“Hi!” he grinned.  “Ooh, that’s nice!  Congratulations!”

You held your phone toward Izzy.  “Ian, this is Izzy.”

“Oh, shit, he’s cute,” Sia said.  “Hi, Sexy!”

“Izzy, this is Sia.  She’s Ian’s fiancee.”

“Well……” she said, then they both held up their ring fingers.

“Omigosh!  You guys got married?!” you exclaimed.

“Yes!  I had to promote ‘Sharknado’ at the MGM Grand, and well, since we were in Vegas, we-”

Sia interrupted, “We found this Elvis impersonator, and it was so tacky and cool, I couldn’t have asked for a better wedding.”

“Congratulations!  Can you guys come to ours?”

“When is it?” Ian asked, with Sia hollering “Hell yeah!” in the background. 

“Next spring.  We don’t want to wait that long.”  You leaned over and pecked Izzy on the lips.  “We’ve waited our whole lives to find each other, we want our married life to begin as soon as possible.”

Thank you so much for being a part of this fic!  Because of wedding plans and moving and all that good jazz, I won’t be writing fics online anymore, but I will never forget how wonderful it was to have all your support.  Love you always, desperadosdreams

“I do,” you said.

“You bet I do,” Blaze said, sliding your beautiful wedding band on your finger.

“Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.  Blaze, kiss your bride,”

He swept you in his strong arms, spinning you around, then dipped you and kissed you hard, the first kiss of the rest of your lives, as the fiery red sun sank in the horizon behind the two of you.

Now it was time for the two of you to begin your lives together, and dream as one.   And as he kissed you again, you knew you’d found forever, and he had been worth waiting for.