#and these photos god I’m gonna be staring at her all afternoon

[sexynetra]

here are some jaida pictures for u today :) <3<3

You are my favorite person on this website and maybe in the world LOOK AT HER I could cry for real

[study-coffee-chicago]

Seasons of Med: Season 5 & Seasons of PD: Season 7: Necrotizing Fasciitis Scare (A Halstead Brothers + Halstead Sister! Imagine)

Your age: 18

Jay's age: 32

Will's age: 34

"I am going to get you to understand football at this game come hell or high water," Jay told you as you said that you really didn't understand anything about football while Kevin tried to hook up the tv. Kelly threw Jay the football and Jay caught it.

"Hell or high water, huh?" you asked. "Did you just turn southern? Isn't that a southern phrase?"

"I can say whatever I want, thank you were much. Now catch." He threw you the football and you caught it easily.

"Kelly, I can't promise this is gonna be a good throw, so be ready to move," you told him as you threw the football to him. He had to jump to the left and jump high to catch it.

"Y/N, you suck at this," he laughed.

"I know."

"Jay, teach your sister how to throw a football, will you?"

He threw the ball back to Jay.

All of you were currently at Soldier Field to watch the Bears' game on a Friday afternoon. Will was originally going to go with Jay and you were going to study for your biology class, even though it was summer. You had decided to take a summer biology class so then you wouldn't have to deal with it during the fall and winter semesters when you'd be drowning in homework with other classes...and you figured you could do this one in the summer because you had heard horror stories of how hard this specific professor at CCU was. Luckily for you, Will was a doctor and could help you understand those damn diagrams that always gave you trouble.

Anyway, Will was going to come, but he got put on the schedule last minute, so Jay dragged you here even though you didn't know the slightest bit about football. Hell, you didn't even have any Bears gear to wear! Jay had given you one of his hats to wear with the promise that he'd get it back.

"Y/N!" Hailey yelled to you. "Wanna run to Mama Garcia's food truck with me?"

"Yes!" you exclaimed.

"Hailey," Jay whined. "I was just about to teach her how to throw a football."

"Halstead, if she doesn't know yet, I'm sure you can wait a few minutes. Now, I need my Spanish-speaking Halstead to come with me."

You had taken AP Spanish last year and had gotten a good enough grade on the AP exam to give you twelve college credits. This was partly thanks to Mama Garcia. You had been studying in her restaurant one night when you asked her a question about a tense. She explained it and then said that if you ever wanted to practice speaking Spanish and make some money at the same time, that you could work or her under the table. You took her up on that offer and your Spanish improved immensely.

Once you got up to the window of the food truck, you ordered a big batch of tamales in Spanish and then translated how much it was to Hailey. Then, you and Hailey went back to Jay and the rest of all your brother's first responder friends.

Kelly was yelling at Stella, Hailey, and you not to break into the tamales before the burgers were done, but you all didn't listen and each grabbed one out of the box.

You were in the middle of eating yours when you heard a scream.

You went towards the scream along with Jay, Natalie, and Kelly, but Jay made sure you stayed behind him. But, this didn't block your entire view, though.

You looked down at this man's leg. It was red and it looked like there was a giant gash on his shin with puss, blood, and flesh coming out. Things were moving underneath the skin. He was seizing and he kept saying BRT.

It was all too much. You took the Bears hat off.

"Y/N, I need you to get away from this. Whatever this guy has, I don't want you to--"

Jay didn't even finish his sentence before you vomited into that he had let you use, using it as a makeshift bowl for your puke.

He gently grabbed your arm and pulled you to the side after you finished emptying that tamale you had started eating into his hat.

"You done? You good?" Jay asked.

You coughed and then wiped your mouth. "Yeah, yeah. Sorry about your hat. I just- I don't like blood and that was nasty."

"I know. I think everyone's going to Med, so we'll run to the bathroom so we can throw away my hat now and you can rinse out your mouth. I think I have gum in my truck."

"Okay. Be glad I had the smart idea to puke into that hat, though. Or else it probably would've gone on you."

"Yeah, but I lost a nice hat in the process," Jay said as he rolled his eyes and you two made your way towards the bathrooms.

***

"It's necrotizing fasciitis," Will said. Everyone looked at him with a blank expression.

"Flesh-eating bacteria," you supplied.

"Wow, where'd you learn that, Short Stack?" Will asked.

"Can you not call me that? I'm eighteen! And, I learned it by watching Untold Stories of the ER."

"Junior doctor on our hands I think, Jay. And, you're still shorter than me and Jay so I can call you that, thank you very much."

"After her puking just at the sight of that, yeah, no way she's becoming a doctor," Jay said. "Anyway, the victim?"

"Right, sorry. Your victim had necrotizing fasciitis, more commonly known as, as Y/N said, flesh-eating bacteria. And, don't worry, it's not contagious. Only about four in a million people get it each year," Will explained.

"So, how do you get nec..." Kelly trailed off, not knowing the correct pronunciation.

"Necrotizing fasciitis. It enters through a break in the skin and just destroys the tissue under the epidermis. It--"

"The epidermis is the first layer of the skin," you said, reciting something you had learned in your biology class.

"Yes, it's the first layer of skin. But, as I was saying, it would really help us treat this guy if we knew who he was," Will finished after your interruption.

"I can't open a case file without a crime," Jay started, "but I'll see if I can run prints and check traffic cam footage. Maybe make out some sort of ID."

After a few minutes, everyone's panic had died down and you and Kelly were sitting down next to each other. He was trying to explain football to you even though you really couldn't care less. Meanwhile, Jay was about to make a phone call when Will motioned him over.

"Yeah?" Jay asked.

"You or Y/N have any contact with the victim? And, if you did, do you or her have any breaks in the skin?" Will asked, clearly worried about his younger siblings.

"No, we didn't have any contact. Just had Y/N puke in my hat I let her borrow," Jay answered.

"Okay, good. But, as I said, necrotizing fasciitis is rare, so you two should be fine. I gotta get back, but call if you find out anything on the victim."

"Will do. Remember to wear your gloves." Will rolled his eyes. "What? You just said it enters through breaks in the skin."

"You're a real pain in the ass, you know that?"

"One of my many talents."

***

"Hey, I'm leaving," Jay told you around noon the next day, poking his head into your bedroom while you stared at your lab lectures, trying to remember all the diagrams and pictures you'd need to help you identify body parts on your next lab practical.

"Okay, I'm going to the lab around 2:00 to study. That way I can actually see that stuff as I'll see it on the lab practical," you told him, not even looking up from your notes.

"Okay, be safe." He picked up Beary, who was leaning up against a pillow next to you, in a graduation gown and cap outfit. "Beary, can you make sure she takes breaks?" Then, his voice changed into his baby voice, what he always pretended was Beary's voice. "Oh, yes, Jay. I'll make sure she takes breaks while you're gone."

You laughed and reached out and took Beary from him. "Get outta here, you goon."

"Love you, too!" Jay called as he left your room.

You fixed Beary's cap and set him down, remembering when you got the outfit for him as you stared at diagrams.

"You ready, graduate?" Jay asked as he knocked on your door.

"Jay, I swear to God if you call me graduate one more time..." you said as you opened the door.

"You'll what?" he taunted.

"You know what, I don't know, but you won't like it. Are my bobbi pins noticeable?" you asked, referring to the bobbi pins you had pinned down to keep your blue graduation cap in place.

"Nope. You're good. Ready?"

"Ready."

You walked into the kitchen, to be met with Will. And behind him on the kitchen table was a vase of blue and white flowers, which were your school colors, and Beary leaning up against said flowers, wearing a blue graduation cap and gown. Just like you.

You laughed. "I cannot believe you guys."

"Hey," Will started, "Beary got a little backpack on your first day of kindergarten. Only fair that he gets a cap and gown on your graduation."

"Did you use the gift card from Mom?" you asked, referring to the one you had found in the letters to each of you that Will had found when you were cleaning out your dad's house after he died.

"We did," Jay confirmed. "Now, I need you to hold Beary in one hand and hold this picture." He handed you a photo of you with your little backpack on and Beary with his that your mom had taken of you on the front porch on your first day of kindergarten, right before Jay had surprised you by coming home from deployment early.

"Why do I need both?" you asked curiously.

"I saw this thing on Pinterest--"

"Wait!" Will exclaimed. "You have a Pinterest?"

"No," Jay scoffed. "But Hailey does. And she sent me a picture of something she thought you should do for your graduation pictures. You hold up a picture of you on your first day of school when you were little while you're wearing your cap and gown and then I take a picture of you. Since Beary was in that picture, I thought he could be in this one, too."

You grabbed Beary and allowed him to take the pictures. Now it was time to tell the news to your mom and dad.

***

"You won't believe what Will and Jay decided they just needed to get me," you said as you stood in front of your parents' headstone with Beary hidden behind your back. Will and Jay were over by a big tree talking amongst themselves so you could have some privacy. You pulled Beary from behind your back. "They got me a cap and gown for him because they said it was only fair because Beary got a backpack on my first day of school. And, since it's my last day of school, he should get a cap and gown, too.

"Also, which one of you called Will and Jay graduate all day on the day of their graduation? Because Jay won't stop calling me that and it's kinda getting on my nerves. Pretty sure it was you, Mom."

You sighed. "I wish you guys were here. Jay told me all about how you made him a special breakfast when he graduated and then went out for lunch before the actual graduation because the senior all-nighter was after. I don't know where we're going for our senior all-nighter, but I hope it's not boring. I've heard that a few years ago, some kids said theirs was super boring. I really don't want that. But, I'm glad that I could convince Will and Jay not to be chaperones for whatever my senior all-nighter is. I love them and all, but they can be a bit too overprotective at times.

"God, you guys should be here. Dad, I know you weren't the best, but you were trying. And, I'm sure if Mom was here, she'd make sure you behaved, because Mom would say it was a big day and that you couldn't be arguing with Jay." You laughed. "I can only imagine what it would look like with Jay on one side of you, Mom, and Dad on the other and you scolding both of them for fighting. Then, they'd both probably sit back and cross their arms. And, because of this, you'd probably say that I'm your favorite child."

"Alright," Jay laughed as he and Will made their way back to you. "I think it's time to go. We don't want to miss your graduation."

"You know none of us really care about the ceremony, right?" you asked, blinking back tears so that you wouldn't mess up your makeup.

"We know. It's mostly for the parents...or in your case, brothers," Will said.

You pulled out four flowers, two blue and two white, which you had taken from the bouquet that Will had placed on the kitchen table back at home, from the pockets in your dress underneath your graduation gown. "Give me one more minute."

You placed two flowers, one of each color, on top of your Mom's name and your Dad's name on the headstone. "I thought you two should have some, too. They're my school colors." You wiped your eyes as you felt a few tears prick them. "Remember to clap for me from heaven when I walk across that stage, okay?"

You took a deep shaky breath and turned back around. Will wrapped an arm around you as the three of you walked back to Jay's truck. Beary hung from your hand. In three hours, you'll have graduated high school.

You were taken out of your thoughts by your phone ringing. It was the coffee shop you worked at. And, no, it was not the one in your apartment building. But, Jay and other members of Intelligence did sometimes come in there to pick up coffee for them and the rest of the unit. This was only because they knew they'd get the friends and family discount since you worked there. But, they usually tipped you well, so you didn't mind.

Your manager asked you to come into work because someone couldn't come in. As much as you needed to study for your biology lab practical, you needed money for college more. And, you could always go to the lab tomorrow to practice for your lab practical. You also had Will. What good was having a doctor in the family if not to help you with your science homework? So, you decided to pick up the extra shift making coffee.

***

"Voight," Hank Voight said as he answered his phone.

"Hank, it's Wallace Boden. I need you to come down to the CCU science lab right now."

"Why?"

"Because Severide just told me that the victim at Soldier Field yesterday kept chanting BRT. This place is owned by BRT Labs. And, there was a fire set."

"You're thinking arson? You know we don't investigate that, Wallace."

"I know. Office of Fire Investigation is already on it."

"But, you think that the victim yesterday and the fire today could be connected?" Voight asked.

"I think it's highly possible. All I ask is that you come down here, maybe take a look inside, do some interviews, stuff you normally would do."

"Alright. I'll grab Halstead and Upton and we'll head down there."

"Thank you."

Voight hung up his phone and turned to his team, all of whom were knee-deep in paperwork after taking off yesterday to see the Bears game...which they didn't even get to see in the end. "Chief Boden needs some of us down at the CCU lab. There could be a connection--"

"Did you say the CCU lab?" Jay asked, standing up from his chair.

"Yes, Halstead, Upton, you're with me. The rest of you, stay here. We'll let you know if we need you or you need to look up information here." Voight looked to Jay who looked like he'd seen a ghost. "Halstead, we're going."

"Y/N's at the lab."

"It's Saturday," Hailey pointed out. "There's no classes on Saturdays."

"She said she was going there to study for a test. Oh, God. What if--"

"Jay," Hailey said as she walked over and put a hand on his shoulder. "You just need to call or text her on the way there. She'll be okay. C'mon, let's go."

"Atwater, come with me," Voight said. "Just in case Jay's gotta go."

***

You finally took your fifteen-minute break after being swamped for a good half hour straight. Who knew so many people wanted coffee at four in the afternoon? The first thing you saw were seven missed calls and texts in all caps. They were all from Jay.

"What the hell?" you muttered as you pressed Jay's contact and brought your phone to your ear. He picked up on the first ring. "Why are you--"

"Where are you? The firefighters said they haven't seen you come out yet," he rushed out.

"I'm at work. What firefighters? What are you talking about, Jay?" you asked, furrowing your eyebrows together.

"You're at work?" Jay asked. "I thought you were going to school to study?"

"I was. But, then my manager called me in. Why? What happened?"

Jay felt so much relief wash over him that he almost fell over in the grass on the CCU campus. "There was a fire in the lab."

"What? Are my friends okay? Did anyone die?" you rushed out. They weren't totally your friends, more your classmates, but you figured that was the easiest thing to call them.

"As far as I know, there weren't any fatalities."

You breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay, okay, good."

"Just do me a favor: next time your plans change, text me."

"I can't promise I can remember that."

"Figures. But, I gotta go. Stay safe."

***

"Son of a bitch!" Jay yelled and threw his phone on the couch just as you entered your apartment after finishing your closing shift at the coffee shop.

"What?" you asked as you shut the door and then set your keys down and took off your hat.

"Hailey's in quarantine," he told you. "And it's all my fault."

"What? It's your fault? How'd it even happen? Why are people being quarantined?"

"Turns out that necro thing isn't as rare as Will told us."

"Jay, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Uh, there were a bunch of people at an apartment building who got the disease, so Will and others are there looking for a thing that somebody says they saw spraying the building. Could've been this exterminator person was trying to poison people in the building," Jay told you. "And now everyone in the building is quarantined at Med."

"And Hailey was in the apartment building...?" you asked, not knowing what this had to do with Hailey.

"I had her go to a house to talk to someone who was in the lab the same time as the victim. She, uh, the girl Hailey was talking to, fell over and she had the infection and Hailey touched her.

"Hailey had a hangnail or something—at least, that's the info that Will got from Natalie, and Will passed it on to me—so now she's in quarantine at Med. If I wouldn't have told her to go check out the lead, then maybe she wouldn't be in quarantine right now."

"Jay," you started, "you can't blame yourself. If it wasn't Hailey, it would've been you. Then you'd be quarantining at Med right now. And if it wasn't you or Hailey, it would've been someone else from Intelligence and then they'd be in quarantine right now."

"How did you get so mature?"

"Trauma."

Jay's expression immediately changed. "What? Y/N, if you need someone to talk to, I can get you that."

You laughed. "Jay, chill. It's a psych major joke...even though I know I really shouldn't be joking about trauma no matter what."

"Okay, good. Do you want to watch a movie?"

"I mean, I guess. What are we watching? And, I'm gonna make popcorn, too."

"Okay. We can watch anything but Contagion," Jay told you.

"What's Contagion?"

"It's about this virus that breaks out all over a city...much like what's happening now."

"Oooh, now I want to watch it."

"I knew I shouldn't have said anything."

***

"Hello?" you said into the phone the next afternoon when Mama Garcia called you. Jay was out working the case, Will was trying to find a cure for this bacterial strain, and Hailey was out of quarantine because she was cleared by Natalie. So, Jay wasn't blaming himself anymore.

You quickly spoke Spanish with Mama Garcia and she asked if you could come in because they got a huge catering order last minute and she needed someone to man the cash register while she helped in the back making the order. You agreed and made your way to Mama Garcia's.

***

You were busy working the cash register and speaking Spanish with the friendly customers when you started hearing yelling outside, something about MS-13. You excused yourself and made your way to the back where Mama Garcia was working on tamales.

"They're saying something about MS-13 out there," you told her in Spanish.

"I'm going to need you to say that in English, chica," she told you. "I think you said it wrong because you just mentioned MS-13," she said as she wiped her hands on her apron.

"No, they're saying crazy stuff," you began. "They're chanting that you're part of MS-13. You can't hear it?"

"It's loud back here. Maybe I'll hear it if I go to the front."

She came to the front with you where some customers were leaving the building through the side entrance to get away from the mob. There weren't any customers left in the little restaurant anymore.

"Dios mio," she whispered.

There had to have been at least two dozen or more people outside all yelling and saying that she was to blame for the bacteria. Some even held signs. Some had guns or sharp objects.

You pulled out your phone. "I'm calling--"

You stopped when you heard a crash. You barely had time to register what was happening as the Molotov cocktail flew through the window and shattered everywhere, lighting the place on fire and sending shards of glass everywhere, some ending up lodged in your leg as you screamed in fear and pain.

***

The men and women of Firehouse 51 got a call of a public disturbance at Mama Garcia's. As they pulled up, they saw the Molotov cocktail fly right through the front window towards you and Mama Garcia. Casey started barking out orders and everyone sprang into action.

You were inside and the smoke was getting thicker. Whatever they made this out of actually worked. You pulled your shirt up to your nose and mouth to try and stop inhaling it, but it didn't work very well.

You had been in front of Mama Garcia at the time it was thrown through the window, so you took most of the glass shards. This caused you so much pain that it was hard for you to move through the kitchen and to the door to get out.

"Fire department! Call out!" you heard Stella yell as you kept trying to walk toward the back door.

"Here!" you yelled.

"Fire department! Call out!"

"Back here! Help! Help!"

You heard heavy footsteps coming toward you and then you saw a firefighter and you felt a hand wrap around you.

"Hang on. You're gonna get out of here." Stella. "Casey," she said into her radio. "I need some help in here. Female victim, trouble walking, in the back in what looks like the kitchen."

"Copy. Coming in, Kidd."

About thirty seconds later you were picked up and told to close your eyes. You did, and it was only when you finally got outside, did Truck 81 realize who they had rescued.

***

Will was currently working in the lab trying to find an antidote to this terrible outbreak. But, something about Dr. Seldon was suspicious. He wasn't a detective like his younger brother,  but he still trusted his gut.

Dr. Seldon hadn't noticed that Will was still in the lab when he started pouring chemicals into the samples. Now Will knew something was most definitely wrong.

"What are you doing?" he asked loudly, startling Dr. Seldon.

"Oh, these are contaminated samples," he answered easily like he had rehearsed what he was going to say.

Will pointed directly at him. "No. You know what? You need to stay right here."

Then, Seldon threw a punch and Will caught it easily. But, then Seldon hit him again in the stomach. In the split second that Will was doubled over, Seldon picked up a microscope and cold-cocked Will right over the head, causing him to fall to the ground as everything went black and he clutched his bleeding head.

***

Hailey was now back in the bullpen after being quarantined because she got checked out and everything was fine. She had to tell Jay to stop apologizing and that it wasn't his fault he had gotten into that mess.

"That's a blue hat, right before 2:00," Ruzek said as he looked at the security footage.

"Wait, I know this guy," Jay started. "He works at the CCU lab." His eyes widened as he realized what was going on. "He's with Will. We gotta go now!"

As Jay was sprinting out of the bullpen, his phone started ringing.

"Man, your phone!" Adam yelled.

"Just let it go to voice-mail!" Jay yelled as he ran down the stairs, not knowing that it was Casey calling him to let him know that they had pulled you out of a fire and you were currently being treated at Med.

***

You rubbed your eyes as you woke up a few hours later. You didn't know if it was the meds the nurse gave you to knock you out so she could pull the shards of glass out of your body or if it was from a combination of smoke inhalation and tiredness. Whatever the reason, you were awake now.

You turned to see your brothers and were very confused to see that Will was holding an ice pack to his head and Jay looked like he had gotten new stitches in his forearm.

"The hell--" You roughly cleared your throat. "The hell happened to you two?"

"We found the guy," Jay told you. "But, not before he cold-cocked Will over the head with a microscope."

"Who was he?" you asked.

"A professor at CCU. Dr. Seldon."

"I've heard of him. I think he only teaches graduate classes though, so I'd never end up being in one of his classes anyway. I'm assuming he's not teaching anymore?"

"Not a chance in hell," Jay confirmed. "If he wants to teach, he can teach all the other prisoners at Stateville."

"What happened to your arm?"

"Oh, you know him," Will began. "He's always putting other people's safety in front of his own like the idiot he is." Jay thought about smacking his older brother upside the head but decided against it only because he had just been hit in the head. "He decided that he'd rather be infected with the bacteria instead of the people in a conference room where Seldon was. So, he cut himself."

"You what? Do you have the bacteria?" you asked as your eyes widened in fear.

"No, I don't. Hailey shot in there to distract him and then I disarmed him. Will came in with the antidote anyway, but luckily we didn't need to use it."

"If Hailey got paid overtime every time she saved your ass, she'd never have to work again."

"Tell me about it," Jay agreed.

"Now, what happened to you?" Will asked. "Casey told us you were at Mama Garcia's?"

"Yeah, she called and asked me to run the front since she needed to be in the back to help work on a catering order. I went in and an hour later, there were all these protesters outside calling her a member of MS-13 and saying she started the outbreak."

"How?" Jay wondered. "Mama Garcia's like the sweetest lady alive."

"I don't know. Because people online are crazy? And then someone threw a flaming bottle of something through the window."

"And that's how the glass got in your leg?" Will asked. You nodded. "Well, the good news is that Maggie told me the damage was artificial. The reason you passed out was because of smoke inhalation. They gave you some oxygen and you're good to go once you're ready."

"Then why don't I have one of those nose thingies in?" you asked.

"A nasal cannula?" Will chuckled. You nodded. "It's because you slept long enough with it on that your oxygen is back up. And, the paramedics gave you oxygen, too. That's why you don't need it. Your levels are back to normal."

"Oh. Okay."

"You want your discharge paperwork?" Will asked.

"Yeah, Jay's gotta fill it out."

"Nope. You are not a minor anymore. So, you get to fill out your own paperwork."

You groaned as he handed you the clipboard with the paperwork on it. Now you knew why both Jay and Will hated paperwork so much. There was so much even for one little thing!

"You know, I think since you've achieved frequent flyer status at Med," Will began, "that Beary needs a hospital gown, too."

"No! Don't you dare!"

"Just write it down and give it to her for Christmas," Jay joked. But honestly, when it came to that bear and presents, you never knew if either of them was joking or not.

Everything seemed back to normal at that moment: Jay and Will joking about your Build-A-Bear, you and Jay constantly being in the hospital for whatever reason and life. Life was back to normal after this crazy weekend that had everyone in Chicago on edge and you couldn't be happier.

A/N: Idk how I feel about this one. There was so much going on in that crossover, that it was hard for me to figure out what I wanted to focus on...so, it turned into a shorter imagine. Anyway, thank you guys so, so much for reading! I also start my new job tomorrow, so updates might be a little less frequent (one or two a week, depending on how long the imagines are and how much I have to work). Anyway, please like/reblog and comment and tell me what you think! As always, if you want to be added to my taglist, just tell me and I’ll add you!

taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @onechicago18 @iamasimpingh0e @i-like-sparkly-things @herecomesthewriterwitch @liampayne88

[spencers-renaissance]

This Gravitational Pull

Summary: Penelope Garcia sets her two best friends Derek & Spencer up on a blind first date. Even with the best intentions and highest expectations, no-one could've predicted it would go quite this well.

Tags: fluff, first date, au: diff first meeting, shy spencer, insecurity, anxiety, flirting, cuddling, protective derek, silly amounts of affection

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 2.9k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

I started writing this and then realised that I'd set their date in a pub's beer garden? I googled it and apparently they are a thing in America so I kept it in. I don't know how common they are, but I hope it's all good and you can picture the setting just fine.

Spencer really wishes he hadn’t agreed to this blind date.

Not because he doesn’t trust Penelope — he does, he trusts her implicitly and entirely — but because it's a blisteringly hot day in late July and the heat compounded by his shaking nerves is making for a rather unpleasant sweating situation.

A bumblebee buzzes quietly around the table he’s sat at, briefly interested in the iced coffee he’s got his hands wrapped around, and Spencer watches it with a gentle sort of intrigue, able to briefly take his mind off the impending date. He knows that Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan is physically attractive, Penelope had made that more than clear with both her copious photos of him and the way she’s sung his praises since she started working at the FBI, but if anything, that just makes him more nervous. If Derek wasn’t his type, then he wouldn’t have as much to lose.

He runs a nervous hand through his hair as he heaves a small sigh. Worst case scenario, he can run home to his apartment, order Indian food, bury himself in the early edition of War and Peace he just won in an auction and forget that this date ever happened.

“Spencer? Spencer Reid?”

A surprisingly deep and sexy voice has him looking up from the watch face he’s been staring at perhaps a little too intensely, and he’s instantly taken aback by the Greek God standing in front of him. He’d known Derek was attractive, he'd seen pictures of him, but no camera could ever hope to do someone so beautiful any semblance of justice.

“Uh, y-yes, um, yeah. That’s me.” He shakes his head to try and recover his awkward word stumbling before discreetly wiping his sweaty palm on his trousers and standing up to shake Derek’s hand. “You’re Derek?”

“The one and only,” Derek says cheekily, shooting Spencer a grin that already has his stomach churning with a mix of excitement and crippling nerves. “Penelope told me you were gorgeous, but let me tell you, she really undersold it, pretty boy.”

His cheeks instantly flush red as he fights to maintain eye contact, blinking owlishly at the other man. Did he really just say that?

“I was going to say the same thing.”

Derek’s grin only widens. “Well, it looks like Penelope matched us well, then.”

This time Spencer allows himself to briefly duck his head as a baffling mix of pleasure and mortification swim around his chest. He puts it down to inexperience. Any other explanation will only compound his embarrassment.

“She did,” he agrees, smiling over at Derek and hoping desperately that he’s managing to stay cooler on the outside than he is on the inside. “Do you want something to drink?”

Derek nods. “I’ll go and order a beer at the bar. Do you want anything or are you okay with that coffee?”

“Oh no, I’m fine, thank you,” Spencer says, and mentally he praises himself for finally getting out a coherent sentence that doesn’t sound hopelessly mangled and flustered.

He watches Derek as he strides into the pub, looking as cool and confident as his looks and personality allow, and he realises that he really does just have a way about him. The bar is relatively crowded due to the blinding heat on a Saturday afternoon, but the bartender serves him instantly, all the girls eyeing him interestedly and the guys knocking his shoulder and joking about with him as though they’re all easy, long-time friends.

It’s nice, Spencer thinks, to be the focus of someone like that’s attention. Derek could have his pick of most people drinking here, but he only has eyes for Spencer as he comes back out, holding a tall pint and wearing a happy, focused expression as he sits back down.

“Do you not drink?” Derek asks curiously and without judgement, gesturing to his coffee.

“I go out with my friends sometimes,” Spencer says, blushing again, “but I’m a bit of a lightweight, and that’s not the best state of mind to be in on any first date, let alone a blind one.”

Derek chuckles warmly at that, and the sound is a pleasant rumble reminiscent of a distant thunderstorm. Spencer wants to melt into it.

“I think I’d like to see you all messy on a night out, pretty boy,” Derek says wryly, still grinning shamelessly, and Spencer gets the distinct impression that this ‘pretty boy’ business is going to be a Thing between them.

Spencer cocks his head and takes a sip of his coffee through the long metal straw. “Maybe you’ll have to join us some time.”

“Does that mean we’re going on another date?” Derek asks, but before Spencer can panic that he’s said the wrong thing, he’s smoothly continuing. “Because I’m more than down for that.”

“You are?”

“Pretty boy, you ever looked in the mirror?” Derek demands playfully. “Add that to this cute little nerdy bashful doctor thing you got going on and you’re the whole package. Of course I want another date with you, and we’ve barely even started this one.”

Spencer flushes bright pink at that, and decides to move the conversation on before he melts into a literal puddle in the middle of this beer garden. “So you know Penelope through work?”

Derek gets the hint. “I was part of the group that arrested her, actually,” he chuckles, “and I thought she was gonna be a nightmare to work with when we gave her the option of working for the FBI instead of going to prison. But then she showed up on her first day decked out from head to toe in pink and yellow, her hair dyed back to her natural blonde, and the way she smiled when I called her baby girl… well, it was smooth sailing from then on. Did you know her back in her Black Queen days?”

“I was her one phone call,” Spencer answers, his face splitting into an easy grin as they discuss his favourite person on planet earth. “I was terrified she was going to jail and I’d lose her forever, so I was over the moon when you guys offered her that deal. We went to get our hair done together the very next day.”

“Oh yeah? And what did Pretty Boy have done to his hair, hm?”

Spencer blushes. “Let’s just say she wasn’t the only one who had a rebellious phase?”

“Now that I have got to know more about.”

“Save it for date number two, SSA Morgan,” Spencer shoots back, relaxing into the easy banter between them.

“Alright, alright, baby, I can do that,” he says, winking again. Thankfully, Spencer manages not to do an embarrassing impression of a traffic light this time. “How did you and Penelope meet?”

“Back in college actually,” Spencer nods. “She was sort of going off the rails after her parents’ death, but I think finding a scared 12 year old in her Geography elective helped her rein it in a bit. We’ve been glued at the hip pretty much since we met. Even when I went to MIT for a bit to complete my Engineering PhD, she came with me. Since her job back then was mostly hacking and some supplemental side jobs, it didn’t really matter where she was based, she was just hellbent on protecting me like she has ever since that first Geography class.”

“Wow,” Derek says, looking genuinely shocked as he leans back a little bit, eyeing Spencer with curious eyes. “You went to college when you were twelve? I’m glad you had Penelope because that could’ve been a disaster.”

“It kind of was,” Spencer nods, laughing a little. “But it meant that I had five degrees including three doctorates by the time I was twenty-one so I wasn’t too mad about it.”

Derek stares at him consideringly, the soft smile on his face making Spencer’s stomach fill with butterflies. “You’re quite the genius aren’t you?”

“Well, I don't believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified, but I do have an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and can read 20,000 words per minute.”

Derek just stares at him.

“So, yeah, I guess I’m a genius?” he says bashfully.

Derek laughs, shaking his head. “Definitely a genius. I mean, Penelope told me you were clever, but this is like… insane. Are you sure you’re okay to go out with a mere mortal like me or should I see myself out?”

“Yeah actually, Derek, sorry, it’s not going to work out,” Spencer says, feigning seriousness. “I can’t be with anybody who’s not within twenty IQ points of me or doesn’t have at least two PhDs.”

“A good actor, too? What don’t you have going for you, pretty boy?” He laughs in that wild and free kind of way Spencer always wishes he could, and he wonders whether Derek could teach him how.

Derek watches him like there’s something special about Spencer as the sound of their laughter mingles, looks at him like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be but right here, right now, and the warm intensity of it has a buzz going in Spencer’s chest, a pleasant feeling he can’t imagine anything dousing, and he never wants Derek to take his eyes off him again. Not if this is how it’s always going to make him feel.

The hours of the afternoon fly by and all of a sudden the sun is setting and they’re feeling distinctly hungry.

“How do you feel about getting some street food and taking a wander down to the beach?” Derek suggests hopefully, and Spencer can’t help the wide grin that splits his cheeks at the idea.

“Let’s do it.”

The beach is slightly cooler than the garden now the sun is setting and a soft, salty breeze is floating in from the ocean, so they sit close together in the sand, sharing their servings of nachos and fries between them.

“What’s your family like?” Spencer asks, a little daringly after a couple of minutes of comfortable silence.

Derek smiles. “They’re amazing. It’s been just me, my mom, and my two sisters since I was ten years old, but I think losing my dad only brought us closer together, y’know? We had to learn from a young age how to rely on each other, and we were also taught the very valuable lesson of just how important family is and how nothing in life is guaranteed, so we’ve made every effort to be as close to one another as possible.”

Spencer watches with quiet admiration as Derek gushes about his family, and takes another bite of their nachos. “Do they live locally?”

“No, they’re all still back in Chicago,” Derek says. “It’s sad sometimes, being so far away from them, but they would have killed me if I’d stuck around back home just for them and hadn’t chased my dream of climbing the ladder of the FBI.”

Spencer nods, chuckling along with Derek as they stare out at the quiet, tumbling waves of the ocean.

“What about you?” Derek asks. “Are you close with your family?”

Shit. He hadn’t exactly considered that asking Derek about his family would lead to reverse questioning about his own. I mean, call him a genius all you want, but social interaction is not his area of expertise.

“Uh, it’s just me and my mom. She lives back in Vegas,” he explains, clearing his throat awkwardly as he hopes that’s enough to appease his date.

Truthfully, it probably would have been, but Derek doesn’t say anything immediately, and the silence feels like it’s choking him into admitting the truth, however much it makes his chest tighten and his stomach flip with anxiety. What if this is it? What if Derek doesn’t want to start something with someone who has a family history as fucked up as his? What if he reads between the lines and sees that Spencer could be just like his mom in the future, and thinks that starting a relationship is just too risky?

“She has paranoid schizophrenia,” he blurts out, the words rolling off his tongue without his express permission, and instead of shutting up, they just keep coming. “When my dad left when I was ten, I had to be her sole carer until I left for college at twelve, but even then she refused professional help and medication, so I was taking the train from Pasadena to Las Vegas every weekend to try and help her out, and it got messy a lot of the time. It was only when I turned eighteen that things got a little bit easier, and that was only because I betrayed her trust and had her sectioned into a Sanitorium.

“They’re amazing, they take really good care of her and I did my research obviously, but I think a part of her still resents me for doing that.”

He stares out at the ocean for a couple of seconds before he suddenly realises where he is and what he’s just done.

“Oh my god,” he says as horror and dread fill him from the bottom up, “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have just dumped all that on you, I’m sorry, just—”

“Hey, pretty boy,” Derek says gently, placing a reassuring hand on his back to get his attention. “It’s okay, don’t worry. I’m just happy you felt comfortable enough to tell me all of that, and besides, I asked the question, and I meant it. I wanted to know the answer.”

Spencer feels some of the panic recede a little, and he looks up at Derek to try and gauge whether he’s telling the truth. “Really?”

Derek’s expression only softens further. “Really.”

He relaxes a little further and leans into Derek’s side, smiling to himself when Derek wraps his arm fully around his waist, resting his head on top of Spencer’s.

“I feel like I’ve known you way longer than just four hours and fifty six minutes,” Spencer says eventually.

Derek chuckles, and this time Spencer can feel the low rumble against his cheek as well as hear it. “It might be the biggest cliche in the book, but I feel exactly the same, baby.”

“I think sharing street food on the beach while staring out at a sunset as romantic and beautiful as that one has cemented the cliches in this date enough already,” Spencer points out, laughing a little.

“That is very true,” Derek agrees, squeezing his hand against Spencer’s waist. “We could round all the cliches off with a kiss, if you’d like.”

Spencer sits upright, blushing again as he eyes Derek’s flirtatious but serious expression. “I’d like that a lot.”

Derek wastes no time in taking Spencer’s jaw in his hand and leaning in slowly to place a long, sensuous kiss to his lips. Spencer kisses back with as much control as is possible when your experience is next to none and you have one of the most beautiful men in the world turning your stomach inside out with his attention, but it seems to be enough for Derek because as soon as they pull away, he’s grinning widely.

“You’re quite the kisser, pretty boy.”

Spencer fights the blush but it comes anyway. “I like that.”

Derek’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “The kiss?”

“No, the pet names.”

Derek’s expression smooths out and he smiles again, a little more tenderly than his usual cheeky grin. “Well, that’s good, because I have plenty more up my sleeve, sweetheart.”

Spencer flushes with pleasure this time and settles back against Derek’s side, observing the blue sea as they settle into silence once more.

“I’m not very used to all of this, by the way,” he says after a while, the sky slowly darkening.

“Used to what?”

“This. Kissing. Dating. Pet names.”

Derek looks down at Spencer to try and get a better look at his face. “Really? You could’ve fooled me.”

“I’ve only ever had one boyfriend before, and this is only the second date I’ve ever been on.”

“Any girlfriends?”

“Not really my area.”

“And this other date, was that with boyfriend number one?”

Spencer shakes his head against Derek’s shoulder. “No, I never went on a date with him. I met him in college and we were friends first, so we never really dated, just fell into a relationship.”

“Ah.” A brief silence settles over them again, but Derek doesn’t let it hang long. “You know I’m not bothered by any of that, right? You could have never dated anyone ever before or have screwed your way round half of California and DC and it wouldn’t matter a single bit. Not if you were here with me, right now.”

He laughs softly as Derek lightens the mood, and something in Spencer’s chest feels like it falls into place at that, like his last anxious reservation has been washed away and he can really move forward, forge onward with this scarily exciting endeavour.

“You’re a good man, Derek Morgan. You know that, right?”

Derek kisses the top of his head. “I do,” he says, “but I’m not sure it’s ever sounded quite as special falling from anyone else’s lips as it does falling from yours.”

Further down the beach, another wave crashes against the shore, and the colours of the sunset fade away slowly. People pack up their picnic baskets and head home, and seagulls attack their leftovers, but none of that matters, because right now, Spencer’s world is Derek Morgan.

Penelope Garcia deserves a medal.

(Yes, I've used that "yeah I guess I'm a genius" sequence in way too many fics, leave me ALONE. )

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @lesbiantodds @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @negativefouriq @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @livrere-blue @hotchseyebrows @enbyspencer @reidology @transhanniballecter @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @hotchedyke @tobias-hankel @marsjareau @oliverbrnch @im-autistic @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @reidreids @ropoto @thosecriminalminds @wifeyprentiss @cmily @love-pyramus @notevanbuckley @hotchscotchh (add yourself to my taglist here!)

[inkandpen22]

Permanent Chaos (4/?)

Pairing: MGK x Female!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: mild swearing

Part Summary: While Y/N is out shopping with Cara, news breaks that ties her with MGK. 

Masterlist

Masterlist

Two days later...

Cara and I go out shopping and have lunch for a girl’s day. I have yet to talk about the other night with Sam. Cara hasn’t mentioned it and I have no plans to either. Cameras have followed us up and down Rodeo Drive. By this point, Cara and I are both used to it. Carrying my bags however, I doubt I look graceful for these videos their taking. Oh well, they have fifteen thousand more of me.

“CARA! EXCITED TO WALK IN THE CHANEL FASHION SHOW?”

Cara ignores the paparazzi and points out a dress in the window at Dolce and Gabbana. I request to go inside to try it on. I’m not sure where I’d wear it to, but that doesn’t really matter.

“Welcome ladies!” A woman in a black dress approaches. “Can I help you find anything in particular?”

I point over to the dress in the window, “could I see that in a size six please?”

She leaves us to go find the dress for me and we roam around a small section while she does. My phone rings and I see Nicole’s name pop up. My heart immediately begins to race. She doesn’t call me unless absolutely necessary, usually we text. I step away toward the corner to be discreet.

I answer the call hesitantly. “Nicole? What’s up?”

“I got a call from Stephanie,” she sounds agitated on the other end.

Stephanie is my publicist, she handles everything that Nicole can’t basically. They bicker a lot since they’re both so headstrong and constantly need control. It’s the classic good cop/bad cop scenario, yet I don’t know who’s who. These two cover every aspect of my career, God bless them.

“Oh no, sounds bad,” I grumble anxiously.

“Depends how you look at it,” she lightens her tone.

“What is it?” I press.

“Well…” she hesitates.

“Nicole!” I drag out her name.

“It’s all over social media, magazines and it will be on TMZ tonight,” she stammers. “I’m surprised you haven’t already heard if I’m being honest-”

“Nicole! What?” I rush her.

“An article about you and Colson Baker just dropped on some gossip sight,” she explains. “It says that you and Colson Baker are dating. Stephanie and I figured no one would believe it but it’s everywhere! They have videos and photos of you two leaving The Ivy plus talking by Sam’s car. If I didn’t know you, I would be convinced.”

My head hangs low as I rub my forehead, letting out a deep sigh. “Oh dear God.”

“We can handle it, don’t worry!” Nicole assures. “This story will be gone soon!”

“I need to go, talk to you later!” I hang up on Nicole right when the woman shows me the dress.

“I’ll take it” I attempt to hurry up the process.

Cara comes up next to me “don’t you think you should try it on first?”

“I’ll explain later but we need to go” I whisper to her and just like that, she’s hurry the woman along at the register.

I have the dress and exit the store in a rush. I must act cool, the paparazzi will take notice of my mood change.

“HOW’S COLSON, Y/N?”

“SEEING HIM TONIGHT?”

“HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN DATING?”

“HOW ARE GONNA HANDEL HIS FANS?”

“HAS HE MET THE FAMILY YET?”

“What’s going on?” Cara asks concerned.

“I’ll explain once we’re somewhere private,” I whisper so the cameras don’t pick up on it.

We speed walk to the car and I offer to drive since I made us cut the day short. Once we’re on the highway towards home Cara asks what the heck is going on.

“Why did they keep asking about Colson?”

I turn on the radio and Elvis Duran, along with his team, are discussing no other than me and Colson.

Danielle summarizes the article for the listeners. “The article says they’ve been dating for the past few months. They’re very happy but the relationship is still new. The pair has not yet met each other’s families but Colson is going on tour soon so maybe Y/N will join him and eventually meet the family. Throughout, there are tons of photos of the cute young couple leaving The Ivy Wednesday night. There’s even a link to a video showing them, what appears to be, having a deep conversation by Sam Merka’s car. If you watch the video, the two are clearly looking at each other very lovingly. I mean, he’s looking at her the way I look at a fresh pizza!”

The rest of the cast laughs and I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Actually, scratch that, I can believe it. I’m just pissed.

“If MGK and Y/N are officially an item, why did she leave with Sam Merka?” Elvis questions.

“I’m glad you asked! According to sources, they’ve been very close friends since the start of TSL. In fact, the duo have taken many vacations together along with their co-star Penelope Glass.”

Cara turns down the volume and looks to me with a steady expression. “Is it true?”

I narrow my gaze at her in bewilderment. “What? No! There’s no way in hell!”

“Okay, just checking,” she lets out a sigh of relief.

“Never ever!” I add and change the station.

Colson Baker is everything I despise in a person. I’ve never hated someone so fast as I’ve hated him. Us together as a couple is impossible. It’s completely irrational.

_________________________________________________________

Later in the afternoon, Stephanie sets up a meeting for us to meet with Colson and his publicist. I had to drag myself to her office. My Fridays aren’t well spent in an office building with enemies. In fact, my whole day could be tarnished by this incident. The meeting room we’re all ushered into is freezing and I’m still in my sundress from earlier. Cara and I were never able to get lunch so I’m starving on top of being cold. The photos of us play in a slideshow on the meeting room’s tv. An endless cycle of false advertisement is how I see the photos. The media is selling us as something completely far from the truth. On top of everything, I’m in a meeting with the one guy in all of Los Angeles I can’t stand. Death would be less painful than the current situation. I tune out the debate between Stephanie and Colson’s publicist. He told me his name but my brain is so numb from the temperature in here I can’t recall it.

“Y/N!” Stephanie calls my name and I search for her around the room until I find her in the doorway with Colson’s publicist.

“We’re going to go make a few phone calls. You two will stay here while we handle the press.” I nod “sounds good.”

I send her a weak smile to charm her out of an apology for zoning out. She huffs and escorts Colson’s guy to her office so they can talk on speaker privately. I stand up from my office chair and stroll over to the windows overlooking the courtyard. I watch the cars zoom by on the street and businessmen and women shuffle in and out of the Starbucks below.

“If it means anything, I’m sorry,” Colson says quietly behind me.

I nearly miss it, he speaks so quietly. I lean against the wall, crossing my arms as I face him.

“You’re sorry?” I shrug, not really seeing his blame. “Why? It’s not your doing.”

I return my gaze to the chaos below us. I watch as people with office jobs travel about. I wonder if they’ve heard of me? I wonder if they like me or think I’m a stuck up actress? I shouldn’t care what people think, but it’s easier said than done. When millions watch TSL every week, it’s hard to ignore the wondering.

“If I hadn’t walked you to the car none of this would be happening,” Colson reasons guiltily.

I shake my head, finding humor in the situation now. The paparazzi can make nothing into a months long romance. A brief conversation outside a restaurant and suddenly we’re meeting each other’s families.

“We were only walking to a car. How could either of us have predicted the amount of attention that would come of us walking?” I justify, not to ease his mind, but my own.

My flicker over to the tv, I examine the slideshow of us. Examining the photos I realize it wasn’t all in my head, the way in which Colson was gazing at me is a tad bit gawk-like. Images of us walking to the car while I’m answering the paparazzi’s questions depict Colson glancing at me with what seems to be such admiration. A picture of when Cara calls for Colson comes up and I’m stunned by how we look. Even I appear to be in awe of him in return. It’s evident Cara is speaking yet neither of us react. We were so caught up within on another.

“I have one question!” I blurt out suddenly with my arms crossed I walk back over to the table. Just one and then I wish to put all of today’s events to rest.” Colson perks up and hums for me to continue. I point over to the photos on the screen “why did you look at me the way you did?”

Turning his head, he reviews the photos blankly and I wait anxiously for some sort of reason. “I’m not looking at you in any particular way,” he disregards my accusations.

I chuckle, amused by his horrible way of lying. “Lies!”

He’s thrown off by my reaction and I storm over to the TV screen to point it out to him.

“It’s clear as day to the press, the public and now me included. You’re clearly lost in some kind of thought! You were there, so was I and our friends! Say all the lies you want but you’ll never convince anyone.”

His jaw clenches and he avoids my gaze. He leans back in his chair, staring out the windows. “Colson,” I sigh, slowly approaching the table. “Maybe the truth could help the lies disappear! If we’re honest then maybe the press will leave us alone!”

He shakes his head low, letting out a brief laugh. “I highly doubt that.”

I have a thousand questions but I’m aware none will go answered. He’s a lost cause. I’m in this alone I guess. Turning my back to him I return to my position by the window. Observing the worker bees swarming around the spaces below. The sound of Colson’s chair rolling back comes from behind me but I don’t even shift. Out of the corner of my eye, I see his figure in the reflection of the window beside me. My attention remains outside. He won’t give me the time of day so why should I treat him any better?

“You wanna know why I looked at you the way I did?” His presence hovers of me and he feels like a wall surrounding me.

“Please,” I mutter a subtle beg.

 “I... I had this imagine of you in my head, pre-judgements. You’re supposed to be America’s Sweetheart, Little Miss Perfect! You told me you had been working for this for years, had drive and trails.” He confesses. “You’re not what I expected... It caught me by surprise is all.” 

My eyebrows furrow close, “So you thought I was just some pretty face, goody-two-shoes, ditz? If it’s because my image, my past, you said so yourself it doesn’t matter!” 

“No, no, that’s not it!” he runs his hand through his hair nervously.

Narrowing my eyes, I press further. “Why then?”

The door swings open and I straighten up before forcing a warm smile to my face. I step back from Colson before the person ever appears in the doorframe. One of Stephanie employees informs us that we’re free to go. Steph doesn’t want to keep me here all day and since I’m allowed to go Colson’s publicist is releasing him. I clasp my hand together, walking over to fetch my purse.

“Thank you so much!” I gush. “Have a good day and please tell Stephanie “thank you!””

The young intern eats up my pleasant expressions. “You too Miss Voss! Will do!”

The young woman shuts the door behind her and I return to the state I was in. Expressionless, I gather my belongings and Colson does the same. Checking my phone for any missed emails or calls I can tell he’s staring me down.

“Does it ever get tiring?” His tone is light, but I can hear the ounce of mockery beneath the surface.

My attention is locked on my phone as text after text pops up from Penelope. She’s more likely than not has seen all the articles and Twitter posts. I should call her and explain.

“Y/N!” Colson shout pulls my from my thoughts.

“Huh? Does it ever get tiring?” I restate his question back to him. “What exactly are we talking about?”

I slide my purse over my shoulder while stepping over to the door, leaving Colson behind. That is until he follows me.

“Your whole act.” He forces a fake smile and tosses imaginary hair over his shoulder. “The “happy go-lucky goody goody All-American girl?””

I scoff, eyeing him up and down. “You’re ridiculous. It’s not an act.”

I swing open the meeting room door, eager to leave here. My heels clink against the white shiny tiles on my walk to the elevators. After hitting the down button, I call up Blake now that I have some time to kill. She’s my oldest friend, I’m sure she sees right through all of the tabloids and is only checking in.

“Calling your boyfriend?” Colson mutters over my shoulder and I quickly move away.

“Don’t have one,” I answer plainly, waiting for Penelope to pick up.

He smirks and props himself up against the wall beside the elevator doors. I side eye him, all he does is smile all the time and he calls me out for acting so happy all the time.

“Can’t you find anyone else to annoy?”

He grins proudly, “sure I could. None would as entertaining as you though.”

“Geez,” I mumble under my breath.

I pace outside the elevators as I wait for one to arrive and for Penelope to answer. Classic of her to text me non-stop but not to answer when I call her back. The elevator doors open and I step inside, ready to get out of here. I hit the ground floor and Colson strolls in lazily not rushed at all. He checks the button and doesn’t add any. The doors shut then silence sits flat in the small space with us. My phone buzzes continuously, I check the name at the top of the screen.

“Frickin’ frackin’!” I clench my teeth together in a growl.

Colson’s eyes widen at my sudden explosion. Closing my eyes, I exhale to calm myself then bring the phone up to my ear. Smiling helps to fake enjoyment when talking to someone on the phone. Sometimes I can fool myself into thinking I��m not miserable during discussions.

“Finn!” I greet. “What’s new?”

My southern accent surfaces. I flip the switch whenever I speak to my family or friends back in South Carolina. I can’t have them thinking I’m not the same Y/N from Charleston. Colson eyes me with his eyebrows raised, surprised by my sudden transition. He makes fun of me in a whisper for my fake enthusiastic voice. I wack him on the arm and it only encourages him more.

“Hi ya Y/N, uh so ya prolly already know butcha face is everywhere along with this MGK fella...” Finn’s voice falters at the end.

I sigh and press my forehead to the wall. Finn asks me if any of what he has read is true and I instantly deny.

My tone goes timid, “who all knows?”

“Just us, Odelle, Greyson and Myself,” he assures.

A sense of relief rushes over me. I turn back around and Colson sends me a sympathetic look, it shocks me. Going from mockery to sympathy from him has my entire mood shifting.

“What ‘bout Momma or Daddy?” I ask, keeping eye contact with Colson.

“Nah, at least I don’t think they do,” Finn guesses. “I’m not entirely sure. Greyson is sayin’ they don’t. He’s the only one that’s home at the moment.”

“Heavens to Betsy,” I exhale deeply, looking up to the heavens. “Let’s hope to the high heavens they don’t. Thank you Finn.”

I go to hang up but he says one last thing. Bringing my phone back up to my ear I reply. “Sorry, missed that.”

My brother becomes stern on the other side, “do you and this guy spend tons of time together?”

I shift uncomfortably, preparing myself for the older brother advice I already see coming. “From time to time but I promise, we’re just friends.”

There’s a pause on his end, an unbearable pause. “I trust you Y/N,” Finn finally speaks. “It’s him I don’t trust. He’s not the best sort of guy. Ya’ll aint right for one another.”

I hope Colson can’t hear any of what Finn is saying. To keep him from becoming suspicious, I keep my replies indifferent. “Sure thing. Uh, talk ya later Finn.”

“Bye, talk to you soon.”

We hang up and I slip my phone into my purse.

Colson leans back onto the railing next to me. “Who was that?”

“My older brother, kinda overbearing,” I laugh nervously then bite my lip. My accent begins to subside again.

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Colson remarks.

A faint smile appears across my lips thinking of my brothers. “I have two actually and an older sister. The order is Finn, Odelle, me then Greyson.”

Colson returns a kind and gentle smile. “That must’ve been nice to grow up with so many siblings.”

“It was.” I nod as memories flash across my mind. “Finn and Odelle were grouped together and so was me and Greyson since our age gaps are less.”

As we pass each level on the elevator there is a “ding.” Facing toward the doors again, I absentmindedly watch the numbers go down as we pass the levels. My mind wanders to the many memories I’ve made with my brothers and sister.

“Finn is about Sam’s age, so he likes to believe he’s almost a co-parent for me and Grey,” I describe with a pleased expression. “He’s the total opposite of Odelle.”

Colson genuinely shows interest, “how is she?”

“She’s a total wild card! We all joke that it’s every other kid. Finn and I are the rule followers. He was student body president, quarterback of the football team and still managed to graduate with honors. I’m nowhere near him on the perfect child spectrum but I’m supposed to be “America’s Sweetheart.” My parents eat that up. Then there’s Odelle, she’s the total opposite of Finn. My parents had to beg her to improve her grades so she could graduate. I remember being twelve, it was the middle of the night when I got up to get a drink. I went downstairs and saw her sneaking out of the backdoor. She made me promise not to tell our parents. I haven’t talked about it until today. There were days she’d fake being sick just to ditch school with her friends. By her senior year nothing had changed. She ended up graduating but my parents forced her to go to a college close to home so they could keep an eye on her. Her antics continued the entire time I was in high school. College for her was a playground. For some reason, I envied her. I still do. I suppose it’s because no one expects anything from her. She messes up, well, that’s Odelle for you. She causes trouble, just another day. For me, my parents have me up on a peddle stool. By the time I turned sixteen people out here started taking notice of me. When I reached seventeen the title of “America’s Sweetheart” popped up and from then on, I was longer a teenager. I had a role to play and an image to uphold. I could never make mistakes like Odelle. I have to be “perfect” constantly. Sometimes I feel like a doll, plastic. None of it is real.”

The bell rings for the floor. I comprehend the words escaping my mouth and snap back to reality. I revealed so much about myself while I was in that daze, private facts about myself that I’ve never spoken of before.

Straightening up and adjust my dress, I apologize. “I’m so sorry. I have no idea what came over me.” The doors slide open and I step out. “Good to see you Colson,” I rush out a farewell before speed walking towards the exit.

I mentally slap myself for all I confessed. If only Nicole found out, my head would be on a stick. My life, my background, every aspect of my being is supposed to be flawless. An All-American girl from South Carolina with a wholesome up brining is who I’m supposed to be. If word gets out that I’m not so perfect then… then I would be finished. My hand digs for my keys in my purse.

“Y/N! Wait up!” Colson jogs up next to me then steps in front of me, blocking my path.

“Colson, please....” I practically plead in a mutter, stepping around him.

He wraps his hand around my wrist, stopping me. “Let me buy you a drink!” 

Workers around us walk around in multiple directions like zombies. I wonder if they’re taking notice. Hesitant, I narrow my gaze at me. The reason we’re in this mess is because we were seen with one another.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” I admit and release myself from his grip.

I only make it a few feet before he’s in front of me again.

“Fine, no to a drink! How about we go get some coffee? Or tea? If you prefer tea!”

His chest rises and falls rapidly, his desperation is evident. The reason behind is desperation is still unknown to me, along with the reason he looked at me the way he did last night. Who is this mysterious man who stands before me? So many questions I wish to ask but I can’t get passed his eyes. Puddles of crystal blue settle on a white canvas. Confused beyond belief, for a reason unbeknownst to me, I accept. Could be my curiosity is getting the best of me.

“Coffee it is,” I give in to his request.

He grins ear to ear and steps to the side so we can leave side by side. “Unless of course you prefer we get tea!” he suggests, sounding a tad nervous.

Honestly I like both drinks but I prefer coffee. He holds the door for me and the bright sunlight of California weather strikes me.

“Nah, I normally drink a cold brew with a shot of espresso,” I describe.

He winces and pretends to gag. “Ew! That sounds horrible!”

“It gives you a boost in the morning! Nice and strong!” I laugh.

“You’re nasty!” He waves his hands in disgust.

“Eh, you’ve called me worse,” I laugh, unfazed by his insult.

He chuckles, “you’re not wrong.”

Our laughing dies down a little as we stroll over to the Starbucks. I peer up at him with a side eye. When our eyes meet we begin laughing again uncontrollably.

___________________________________

Masterlist

Tags:  @canyoubuymetoast @bri-3530 @asil1652 @andstilltryingtofindmyself @nadia2021 @olafsidehoe @mgkobsessed @fairywriting101 @ferrell-cat @naylanae-0308 @tonystarkswife10 @alexsa56 @brocksbabyyy @stormrider505 @magnificenthumancopangel @sarcasticfangirlus @lilramencup95beech @missyviolet123 @skeleton-gxrl @glitterybearllamaflap @margaritaville20 @amoresixx @Thysagclub @hockeybabe87​ 

[fific7]

Evil Twins - Part 3

Billy Russo & Aleksander Morozova x Reader

Summary: When two worlds which have already collided then collide with yours - that’s an explosive situation.

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s mainly a mix of fluff and angst with quite a lot of lemon zest 🍋 My Fantasy Punisher/Shadow and Bone crossover AU.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content including oral and unprotected* sex between consenting adults. Slightly questionable consent to begin with. Some drinking & swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My photo edit)

Your head bumped slightly against the corner of the kitchen cupboard and this brought you back to reality. What did you think you were doing? You pushed Billy away roughly and stepped quickly away from him. He looked bereft but you ignored that, saying, “Okay, Billy - enough. I don’t know what I was thinking!” You picked up some of the crockery and went to the dishwasher.

Billy lounged back against the sink, arms crossed, long legs spread, contemplating you.

“That you were enjoying it?”

You huffed, “So what if I was? But it really wasn’t a good idea.” He smirked, “You don’t really believe that.” He pushed himself off the sink unit and headed back to the living room, saying over his shoulder, “To be continued, sweetheart.”

You clattered the dishes around, loading the dishwasher and mentally beating yourself up for giving in to your baser instincts, when you heard Aleksander’s voice in the other room.

“What are you looking so pleased about?” You heard Billy make a relaxed stretching noise like a cat, and you could visualise him doing just that.

“Oh I dunno. What could I possibly be looking pleased about, huh?” “You…!” shouted Aleksander, and then you heard scuffling noises so you rushed through there. As you’d feared, Billy and Aleksander were rolling around on the floor, grunting and trying to punch each other’s lights out.

“Stop it!” you yelled at the top of your voice, but they ignored you. So you waded in, trying to separate them without success. Eventually you took to landing punches on them yourself. Both of them stopped wrestling and looked at you in surprise, and you took this opportunity to yell at them, “Get up! Stop this right now and get up!”

You all unentangled yourselves, standing up and rearranging clothes. They sat down on a sofa each, while you stood there glaring at them like a headmistress, arms crossed. “What is it with you two?! You’re like a couple of stags butting heads! And I’m not talking about your stupid amplifier!” you yelled at them and glaring at Aleksander. The two of them mumbled under their breaths and you said loudly, “What? What was that? It better have been ‘we’re sorry we make you act like our mum’ or something like that!”

They both laughed, exchanging glances, and you snapped, “This is no laughing matter! I’m sick of it. It’s like having two children around the place.” Billy composed his face into a serious expression, saying, “Sorry, sweetheart. But you must know that a mother’s the last thing we think of you as.” Aleksander nodded, “For once I agree with that idiot.” He looked intently at you, “We both want you, so that’s never going to end well.”

You felt your face pink up, “I’m not some snack to be fought over!” “Course you’re not, sweetheart,” soothed Billy, “but this idiot thought I’d slept with you so he lost his cool.” “Did not!” roared Aleksander, then his head swung to you, “You didn’t, did you?” “No I did NOT!” you insisted. “But she did kiss me,” smirked Billy. Outraged, you screeched, “You kissed me, if you recall!” Billy just kept on smirking and Aleksander launched himself across the coffee table, grabbing Billy by the throat and hissing, “Just as well for you I can’t use the Cut right now!”

“Oh for god’s sake,” you said, “just stop it, will you?” Aleksander stood up, huffing and smoothing down his t-shirt, sitting down on the other sofa again. “What’s the Cut?” queried Billy. “You don’t wanna know,” you said, “now I’m going to put the TV on for you children because I need to do some housework.” You heard a chuckle from Billy, “Yeah! You could put on a maid’s outfit if ya like?” You flipped him the middle finger, switched on the TV and went back into the kitchen.

You could hear a rumble of voices from the other room, and just hoped that war was not about to break out again. What the hell were you going to do about this situation? You had the feeling it was building to boiling point.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

When you emerged a little later having seen to your domestic tasks, you found the two of them sitting on the floor with your old Monopoly set open in front of them. Aleksander was poring over the instructions and they both turned towards you, “How d’ya play this?” asked Billy. You stared at him, “Now him I could understand but you? You’ve never played Monopoly?” His face fell and he shrugged, “No, they didn’t have it in the orphanage.” Immediately you felt terrible and you’d already said, “Oh I’m sorry, Billy,” before your brain caught up with your mouth and you added sarcastically, “I should’ve known you wouldn’t have had it in your fictional orphanage in your fictional childhood.”

His big dark eyes gazed up at you, “Might be fictional to you, sweetheart but it wasn’t to me.” Now you felt bad again, holding up your hands, “Okay, okay - I really am sorry, alright?” He nodded, looking back down and fidgeting with the little dog and top hat tokens. You joined them on the floor, “You two really want to play?” They solemnly nodded, so you whipped the instructions out of Aleksander’s hands, “Okay, I’ll explain it to you.”

Twenty minutes later, Aleksander huffed as he got sent to Jail again, reached over and grabbed a load of Billy’s houses and hotels and dumped them on his own squares. “That’s you all over, isn’t it?” sneered Billy, “you’re a loser but you can’t stand it so you just grab what you want, brother!” “Oh and you don’t, hmm brother?!” snarked Aleksander.

“Billy, Aleksander!” you yelled, then in your wisdom decided to add, “in fact I’m going to call you ‘Aleks’ as your full name’s too much of a mouthful for when I’m yelling at you!” Aleks grinned at you, “Or when you’ll be screaming it in bed.” Billy eye-rolled, “Like that’s ever goin’ to happen!” “Just watch!” “I don’t go in for watchin’!” “Well, that’s all you’re going to get a chance to do, little brother!” “Little brother!?? You were definitely second - after me!!”

By now, both of them had jumped to their feet and - surprise, surprise - were nose to nose.

You cradled your head in your hands. This was purgatory.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

She’d retreated back onto the kitchen to make another pot of tea, and peace had temporarily broken out between the two warring parties.

A discussion had begun, with Billy starting it off. “She’s gettin’ really pissed off with us.” Aleks nodded, “Yes, I know.” “So what’re we gonna do? She can’t exactly throw us out I know, but I’d like it better if she was lookin’ at us with somethin’ other than disgust.” Aleks nodded, then - quickly looking round to check she was still out of earshot, “Ah… I suppose we could share?” Billy’s head shot up, eyes staring into his twin’s, “Ya what?” “Share. We could share her. Separately… or together.”

Billy’s mouth dropped into an ‘O’. “Share,” he repeated, then again, “share? D’you think she’d go for that?” Aleks nodded. “She likes us, I can tell. We both like her, and that could be a problem - well it has been, hasn’t it? - but if we play it right, I’m pretty sure we can charm her into bed with both of us.”

Billy and Aleks sat looking at each other, satisfied little smiles on their faces.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Unaware that you were now the object of a peace treaty between the twins, you experienced some deja vu when carrying the tea tray into the living room. Both of them were sitting on the one sofa again, gazing up at you with unreadable expressions in their eyes.

You had the nastiest feeling that you’d missed something important while you’d been in the kitchen making tea. What had the two of them been cooking up between themselves? You plonked the tray down on the coffee table and looked at them suspiciously.

“What’re you two up to?” They shook their heads, innocence radiating off them, “ Nothing!” they chorused. Billy continued, “We just decided that we better stop pissin’ you off so much.”

You beamed at them, “That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day!” You missed the significant looks exchanged between the two men as you placed the cups of tea in front of them.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The rest of the afternoon and evening passed relatively peacefully, with only a few minor skirmishes between the two of them about whatever film or programme you’d put on to watch. And much to your surprise, you realised that they’d actually stopped arguing themselves without you having to step in. Well, that was an improvement at any rate.

For the evening meal you’d rustled up a ragu sauce, and as you didn’t have any spaghetti left you had to use farfalla. So sue me, you thought. Along with some garlic bread you’d heated in the oven, you dished up three portions and then pulled down your space-saving kitchen table, which folded up into the corner of the room when not in use. You got three chairs out of your walk-in cupboard and set them up round the table. “Dinner!” you yelled, and two tall figures came piling into the kitchen. “Mmmm smells great, sweetheart,” schmoozed Billy, sitting down and looking over to where the plates were on the counter. “It does, moi krasivyy,” said Aleks, not to be outdone.

You brought out three bottles of beer from the fridge. You’d almost got over the way food and drinks just replenished themselves as soon as you used or consumed something. Setting them down on the table, you popped the tops off them with the bottle opener and slid one in front of each of them. You noticed they were both looking at you with what could only be described as ‘heart-eyes’, and you squirmed uncomfortably under their gaze. “What’re you both staring at?” you demanded. “Perfection,” said Aleks. “Gorgeousness,” smirked Billy.

After the food had been eaten and beer bottles drained, amidst more effusive compliments about the meal the twins jumped up from the table and said that you needed to go and relax while they washed up the plates. “Thanks for offering, guys, but that’s why I’ve got a dishwasher.” “Well, we’ll load the dishwasher then,” insisted Billy. He took your arm and led you into the living room, “Sit down sweetheart, and just chill while we do the work now.” He gazed at you, and you saw that look in his eyes again - as if you were some kind of earth-bound angel or something.

Right! you thought, just what are these two up to???

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You sighed, leaning over and switching off your bedside lamp. The book you’d been reading wasn’t turning out to be quite what you’d expected. You’d hoped for a bit more… well, raunchier content, not to put too fine a point on it. In that respect, a nun could’ve read it and wouldn’t have blushed.

You’d wondered if you should read a fanfic or two instead - Billy Russo or The Darkling ha ha ha - but then you’d remembered that your wifi and mobile data weren’t working due to this ridiculous situation you found yourself in, so obviously whatever force controlled this… this portal?…didn’t want you contacting the outside world.

You’d fallen asleep quite quickly, laughing to yourself as you did that children were extremely tiring.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The dreams began shortly afterwards, and they were much more vivid than usual.

Your quilt was folded slowly back off you - the rush of cold air was distinctly noticeable - and your top and sleep shorts were peeled off you. You heard deep sighs but you didn’t know who’d made them. Then you were gently rolled onto your back, and you were aware of your mattress dipping down on both sides.

You felt warm skin against your whole body - it almost felt like you were surrounded - and it felt so good that you smiled.

“See! She’s smiling, I told you she’d be fine with it.”

In your dream your brow wrinkled, she’d be fine with what? And who said that?

You felt a tongue lick one of your nipples and a hand squeezed your other breast and then switched - the other nipple was licked, the other breast was squeezed.

You sat bolt upright in bed, and that’s when you realised that you were in fact wide awake.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

In the dim light coming through your gauzy curtains, you could make out two pairs of dark chocolate eyes staring into yours.

“Darling,” said Aleks.

“Sweetheart,” said Billy.

“You fuckers!” you screeched, looking down at your nude body and trying to cover up the relevant bits with your hands and by crossing your legs.

“Too late,” said Billy, giving you a small smile and nodding at your hands which you were still moving around to try and give you maximum coverage.

“We’ve had our hands and mouths on you already,” agreed Aleks.

“Yes and without my permission!” you snapped.

Billy reached across and put on the light. You jumped, feeling like you were under a spotlight, moving your hands about even more frantically. Then Billy’s hands were pulling yours down and away from your breasts.

“Hey!” you yelled at him, and tried to pull your hands out of his but he wouldn’t let go and he was too strong for you.

Now Aleks did his bit, pulling your raised and crossed legs down onto the bed, parting your thighs in your sitting position against your pillows, and then held your legs tightly in position on the bed.

Both men totally consumed you with their eyes, and you were powerless to stop them.

“Oh, darling… you are so, so beautiful,” breathed Aleks.

Billy whispered, “You’re stunning, sweetheart. Absolutely stunning.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

“I can’t believe you two!” you were yelling at them, ignoring their compliments and lustful gazes, “Let me go!”

“But you know how much we want you, darling,” Aleks said persuasively.

“Just let us get it out of our systems and things will quieten down,” pleaded Billy, “well, a little bit anyhow.”

“I cannot believe you sneaked into my room!” you hissed, trying to get free from their restraining hands. “Let go of me. Now!!!”

But instead they slid you down the bed until you were flat on your back and then both heads dipped down to your neck, their mouths were on your skin, beginning to kiss and lick and suck.

“Get off me!” you snarled, still trying to get free but you were too firmly held between them - as if you were in a vice. “But we can make you feel so good, darling,” whispered Aleks next to your ear, Billy purring “Soooo very good, sweetheart,” next to the other one.

Then their attention moved slightly southwards. Billy changed his grip on your hands, grasping both your wrists in one big hand instead and pulling your arms up above your head, pinning them down onto your pillows. Aleks moved one of his legs across yours to keep you pinned, and then you saw their hands stealing onto your breasts, squeezing and kneading them before their mouths came into play. Their hands remained on your breasts but each nipple now had one of their mouths fastened onto it, and they began licking, kissing, sucking and biting until you squealed, squirming under them.

Desperately fighting to ignore how good their attentions were beginning to make you feel, you burst out, “Stop it!” but neither of them did. In fact they both stepped up their attentions, biting and licking your nipples and the skin surrounding them until you could hear yourself beginning to gasp uncontrollably.

You caught a look and a nod being exchanged between them, and both of them sat up on their knees. Billy was still holding your wrists and Aleks used one of his knees to keep your leg pinned. Unable to avoid looking at the two lean bodies in front of you, you saw two rampant cocks lying up almost against their stomachs and much to your disgust, you felt a tumultuous wave of arousal wash over you.

They are two very well-endowed boys, your traitorous mind said into your ear. And exactly the same size! - truly twins, it giggled at you. Oh shut up, you silently answered it and get me out of this situation! Of course now it did shut up.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

“Sweetheart,” said Billy, cupping your cheek and suddenly kissing you, tongue thrusting into your mouth, breaking away for a second to say, “We’re gonna take real good care of you now.” He went back to kissing you, and you heard a whine from Aleks, “I want to kiss her!” Billy sighed into your mouth and lifted his lips from yours. “Okay, bro,” he said, “all yours. For now.”

Aleks crashed his lips onto yours, his teeth clashing with yours until he calmed down a bit and wasn’t quite so desperate. His tongue slid into your mouth, not quite as assertively as Billy’s but still pretty forceful. You could hear him making little “Mmmm” sounds as he kissed you then he sat back, stroking your lips. “Taste so sweet,” he smiled down at you, “your lips are so soft.”

Aleks sat up on his knees again and as he did so, you felt Billy’s body lay down fully on top of you and he rested his hard cock just for a moment between your legs. His hands took hold of your hips and angled you upwards ever so slightly, then you felt just the head of his cock rubbing against your core. Wetness began to gather and you tutted, trying to squirm away from the insistent teasing, but Billy just chuckled and moved his cock along with you when you managed to move slightly, still rubbing at you.

Aleks’ thumb went to your bottom lip and he gently pulled it down further, opening your mouth to him. He leant over and licked both your lips, sucking on them gently then pushing his tongue inside your mouth. Now he was hovering over you, his erection brushing your lips, the tip starting to edge inside.

Okay, okay, okay, your slightly panicking brain chanted. This was happening. Really going to happen. They were both going to take you right now.

You weren’t 100% sure how you felt about it.

Angry that they were just going to have you whatever you said about it. Excited because they were both very hot, very sexy guys.

But whatever your feelings on the matter, it was inevitable - that much was obvious.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

“I promise I’ll make you feel like you’re in heaven, darling,” you heard Aleks say and then Billy chipping in with, “An’ I promise I’ll make you scream my name, sweetheart.”

You closed your eyes, waiting.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@aleksanderwh0r3 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @s1xthirty @tartiflvtte @slythvoid @edithsvoice @paracosmenthusiast @mizelophsun11 @eroda-harry @theshadowkingsqueen @kestrafagnor @thelightinmyshadows

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

[softspideys]

Average (Frat!Tom Holland x reader)

summary: tom holland is the handsome, popular, and charismatic king of your campus. so why has he taken an interest in you?

warnings: none

word count: 3,000

pairings: frat!tom holland x reader

a/n: I personally prefer respectful frat boy tom to jerky frat boy tom. inspired by this glorious photo. I hope you you like it:) 

When Tom Holland first spoke to you, your immediate instinct was to assume it was a joke.

You’d just arrived at the party his frat was throwing and immediately made a beeline for the kitchen. You were never totally comfortable in situations like these, but after a couple drinks you tended to be more social and easygoing.

“Hey,” a voice said as you finished pouring yourself some of the suspicious-looking Jungle Juice. You turned around and almost did a double-take.

You knew who Tom was; his roommate Harrison was friends with your roommate Jess, but you’d never spoken to him. He was popular, but there were no rumors about him being a player or an asshole or a creep like there were with some of his frat brothers.

Now he was smiling at you, looking casual in jeans and a black t-shirt, a baseball cap pulled over his curly hair. “Hey,” you answered, once you were positive he was talking to you. There was no one else around you, but still.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“Um, no thanks,” you said, gesturing to the cup in your hand. “I’m good.” You figured he was just being polite, but then he continued to speak to you.

“You’re Jess’s roommate, right?” he asked.

You nodded, a little surprised. You honestly didn’t even think he was aware you existed. But then it hit you—he must be looking for her and probably recognized you from one of her Instagram photos or something. “Yeah. I don’t know where she is, though. I just got here.”

“Cool,” he said. “I’ve only met her a couple times—she’s friends with my roommate Harrison—but she talked about you a lot. I’m Tom.” He held out his hand.

Slowly, you shook it. “Y/N.” This was weird. If he wasn’t being polite and he wasn’t looking for someone else, then why was he talking to you? You had to get out of there. “Um, I have to go now. It was nice meeting you.”

“Oh, okay,” he said. “See you around, maybe.” You smiled a little instead of answering before practically fleeing the kitchen and joining the party. The rest of the night passed uneventfully and you didn’t see Tom again.

You thought about him briefly afterwards, but decided not to dwell on it. Maybe he was just bored. Maybe he saw you by yourself and took pity on you.

A few days later, Jess ambushed you while you were doing homework in the library. “You talked to Tom Holland at the party on Saturday?” she whispered excitedly.

“Yeah, for like a minute. It was before I found you. Why?”

“Harrison told me he was asking about you. Want me to pass along your number?”

“No!” you said quickly, feeling your face get warm. “Wait. What do you mean, he was asking about me? Asking what?”

“You know, just like . . . what your deal is, and whatever.” She shrugged. “He probably wants to hang out with you.”

“Me? Why?” The thought made your heartbeat quicken.

Jess rolled her eyes. “Oh my God. Why wouldn’t he? You’re a total catch. I don’t know why you’re so surprised.”

The conversation was making you more and more uncomfortable. Tom was good-looking and popular and probably had tons of people lining up just to “hang out” with him. What was so special about you?

Despite your doubts, you found yourself giving in. “Okay,” you said finally. “I guess you can give him my number.”

Jess smiled, her eyes sparkling. “Awesome. I’ll tell Harrison.” She leaned closer, suddenly serious. “And look, I wouldn’t push this if I didn’t think it was a good idea, okay? You know I got your back. Tom is really nice.”

She had a point. “I know,” you said grudgingly. “We’ll see if he even texts me.”

~ ~ ~  

Tom texted you the day after Jess passed your number on.

hey it’s tom, we met at the party on saturday :) i got your number from jess. i was wondering if you wanna hang out sometime?

You spent almost an hour reading it over and over, trying to figure out if there was any hidden meaning in the short message. Finally you wrote back: sure.

You expected him to invite you to another frat party or something similar, but instead he asked if you wanted to grab coffee and do homework. Midterms were coming up, after all.

So you met him at a cafe on campus on a chilly Thursday afternoon. He was there when you arrived, sitting at a table in the back. He looked cozy, all bundled up in a hoodie and sweats. You bought yourself a hot chocolate and sat across from him. “Um, hi.”

“Hi.” He smiled at you. “How’s it going?”

“Good. How are you?”

“Pretty good.”

You looked around. He’d picked a two-person table, but that didn’t mean someone else couldn’t pull up a chair. “Is it just going to be us?”

His smile faded a little. “Uh, yeah. Is that okay? I thought—I mean, you can see if Jess is around or something, but—”

“No, no,” you interrupted, wanting to kick yourself. “No, this is fine. I was just asking. I don’t mind.”

“Oh, okay.” He relaxed. “I’m glad you came. I didn’t think you would.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “You just didn’t seem very, uh . . . excited.”

You cringed inwardly, clearing your throat. “Oh, sorry. I’m not very good at texting. Ask Jess.” You smiled a little at the thought of your best friend. “She’s always mad at me because I take hours to respond and then it usually just ends up being one word.”

Tom laughed. “Oh man, my brother Sam is the same way. I have to send a message to him in all caps that says SOS EMERGENCY PLEASE ANSWER NOW if I want him to answer within the hour.”

“You have a brother?”

“Yeah, three actually. There’s me, then the twins Sam and Harry, and then my youngest brother Paddy.”

“Wow,” you said, raising your eyebrows. “Your house must’ve been pretty crazy growing up.”

“You could say that.”

Before you got to the cafe, you told yourself that you only had to stay for an hour. One hour, and then you could make up some excuse as to why you had to leave. But as time went on, you realized you were actually enjoying yourself. The conversation flowed naturally, and Tom was a good listener. He didn’t seem to mind when you eventually lapsed into silence to get some studying down, and the two of you worked quietly for a while. He even offered to refill your drink when he went to get another for himself.

“Got any plans for dinner?” he asked finally, breaking the comfortable silence you’d grown used to. You looked out the window and saw it was getting dark out.

At first you thought maybe he was going to ask if you wanted to get something to eat with him. But as quick as the idea occurred, you shot it down. That was silly; he’d already been here with you for a few hours now. Maybe he was meeting other people after this and wanted you to take a hint.

So you lied, “Yeah, I’m meeting Jess at a dining hall. I should probably get going, actually.”

“Oh, right,” he said, glancing down at his homework. “Uh, same here.” You both quickly packed up your stuff and left the cafe, pausing before you officially went your separate ways.

“That was fun,” Tom said. He hesitated, and you braced yourself to hear some excuse as to why he would never talk to you again.

You certainly weren’t expecting him to ask shyly, “Would you want to hang out again?” You blinked, certain you hadn’t heard him right. But he just looked at you, waiting for your response, and after a pause you nodded.

“Yeah. I would like that.”

Tom’s answering smile was practically blinding. You couldn’t help but return it. “Awesome,” he said. “Um, I’ll text you?”

“Okay,” you said. “See you later.” He smiled at you for a second longer before he turned and walked away, a happy sort of bounce in his step.

You couldn’t help it; you walked home with a dumb grin on your face.

~ ~ ~

True to his word, Tom texted you a few days later to ask if you wanted to hang out again. This time you accepted readily.

At first, the two of you just got together to have coffee and do homework. Then he somehow managed to figure out part of your schedule and would meet you on your way to class. Even if he had a lecture on the other side of campus, he insisted on walking you all the way to yours.

He started texting you more, sometimes sending you funny videos or memes, but also sharing random thoughts and asking questions. Now you checked your phone frequently, trying to get in the habit of responding quickly or initiating conversation with him first. You followed each other on social media and you noticed he’d liked all of your Instagram photos. Just to be funny, you liked a couple of his too, but then wondered if he would find it weird.

“We’re friends,” you told Jess when she noticed you smiling at your phone. “That’s it.”

“Yeah, and I’m the Queen of England. Are you kidding me?”

“I’m serious,” you said, because you knew what she was insinuating and there was just no way Tom Holland would be into you like that. Sometimes you saw him around campus, always surrounded by a laughing group of friends and admirers. He was like the sun, and you knew you were lucky to even be in his orbit.

“We’re having a party on Friday night,” Tom said to you one afternoon. The weather was nice, so you’d claimed a sunny spot out on the quad to do some homework.

“Cool.” You were more focused on the essay you were writing than the conversation.

“Are you gonna go?” he pressed.

“I don’t know. Maybe if Jess goes I’ll come too.”

“Well . . .” He trailed off, and you looked up to see he was fidgeting with the cuffs of his sleeves. “What if we went together?”

You stared at him. Of all the things you were expecting him to say, it certainly was not that. “Like . . . me and you? Like . . .  as your date?”

Tom was blushing now, steadily avoiding your eyes. “Um. Yes?”

Alarm bells were going off in your brain. If Jess were here she’d be throwing a parade, but you knew there had to be a catch. Out of all the people on campus, why was he asking you?

You opened your mouth to say no, but then he finally glanced up at you. His expression was so earnest and hopeful that you found yourself saying, “Sure.”

“Really? You want to?” he said, like he couldn’t believe it.

You nodded. “Yeah, it sounds fun.”

There was that goofy grin again, lighting up his entire face. “Okay,” he said. “Cool.”

You knew you should be excited, but there was a nervous pit in your stomach that just wouldn’t go away. It was still there when you arrived at Tom’s frat house that Friday. You didn’t recognize the brother at the door on security duty, but he took one look and waved you inside, no questions asked.

You were a little confused; you came by yourself last time too and had to say you knew Harrison. But the brother merely said, “Tom put you on the list.”

The boy in question was in the kitchen, talking to a few of his brothers. He noticed you walk in immediately and his eyes lit up. “Hey! You’re here!” To your surprise he gave you a hug, and you tried not to focus on how good his cologne smelled.

“You look nice,” he said when he pulled away. In an attempt to feel more confident, you’d worn your favorite pair of jeans and a cute top, even allowing Jess to do some hair and makeup magic on you.

“Thank you,” you said. “Um, so do you.” He was just in jeans and a purple flannel, a black baseball cap twisted backwards on his head, but he still managed to make it look effortlessly cool.

“Thanks.” He paused. “I’m, uh, really glad you came.”  

“Me too,” you said quietly. He smiled at you and the knot in your stomach tightened.

Tom barely left your side the entire night. He introduced you to some of his fraternity brothers, whose names you forgot as soon as they said them. A few of them had brought dates too, and while they were all friendly and welcoming, you couldn’t help but feel frumpy and plain standing next to them.

It didn’t help that there were some not-so-friendly girls coming over too. They gave Tom hugs and kisses on the cheek before eyeing you critically. You could practically see the invisible thought bubble forming over their heads each time they looked at you: why is he here with you? You wanted to tell them that you were wondering the same thing.

The longer you thought about it, the worse you felt. It just didn’t make sense. Tom had practically half the campus falling at his feet; why wasn’t he with someone more talented, better looking, charismatic? Why had he picked you? You were so . . . average.

Maybe it was some kind of prank, some kind of fucked-up tradition in his fraternity: find a shy girl, get her to fall in love with you, and then break her heart. That had to be it. There was no other explanation.

“Are you alright?” Tom asked, tearing you from your thoughts. You realized you hadn’t spoken in several minutes, just staring off into space.

You swallowed. “Could we, um, go somewhere quiet? Please?”

He studied your face for a second before he nodded. “Of course.” He put one hand on your back, gently guiding you out of the crowded room and up the stairs. You followed him down the hallway until he stopped at a door with a sign that said TOM & HARRISON.

Oh. This was his room. 

He ushered you in and you noticed he left the door slightly ajar, so you could easily leave if you wanted to. Still, you immediately took a seat at his desk, not wanting to even go near the bed. Tom didn’t seem to mind, falling onto it with a loud thud and a content sigh. Neither of you spoke for a minute. Finally you glanced over at him and saw he was already watching you, a tiny smile on his face.

You couldn’t take it any longer. “Is this, like, a prank or something?”

“What?”

“This. Like,” you gestured vaguely between the two of you, “all of this. Is it a joke?”

Tom’s smile vanished. He scrambled to sit up, scooting towards the edge of the bed. “What are you talking about? Why would you even think that?”

You shrugged, avoiding his eyes. “I don’t know. I’ve just been trying to figure out why someone like you would be doing all of this with someone like me.”

He looked lost. “Doing what?”

“You know . . . hanging out with me, texting me, inviting me here . . .”

He stared at you for a second before he let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “I mean . . . I like you. I thought that was obvious.”

“But why?” You were frustrated to find you were near tears. “You could have your pick of anyone on this campus. There are so many girls in this house alone right now who are prettier and funnier and more interesting than me. So why . . . why me?”

Tom slowly stood up and came over to where you were sitting, kneeling in front of you. “Because I think you’re pretty and funny and interesting,” he said, looking at you unflinchingly. “None of those other people matter to me. I don’t know why you keep trying to convince yourself that you’re, like . . . not good enough or whatever, but it’s not true.”

You bit your lip as he took your hand. “I’m just . . . not used to this. Usually people tend not to notice me.” 

“I did,” he said simply. “And I really, really like you.”

“I really like you too,” you said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Tom said gently. “Just trust me, okay? I would never hurt you like that.”

He was being honest. He always had been, but you believed him now. You took a deep breath. “Can I kiss you?”

Tom blinked in surprise before he nodded. You leaned in and kissed him softly; his lips were a little chapped and tasted sweet and sort of fruity, like the juice from his drink. His hands came up to carefully cup your jaw, holding you in place. It made your head dizzy and your knees weak; it was perfect.

It was like a dam broke. Suddenly you couldn’t get enough of him, couldn’t figure out what to do with the happy, fizzy feeling in your stomach. You pulled back a little, pressing kisses to his cheeks and his nose. Tom giggled like the touch made him ticklish and you thought to yourself, You were so silly to deny yourself for so long, to think you didn’t deserve this.

You knew better now. You knew you did.

[annieharkness]

Glimpses: Part 15 (Kathryn Hahn x Fem!Reader)

Part 1 // previous chapter <<< >>> next chapter

Summary: The Aftermath.

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: hello there! hope this makes up for all the drama I caused 😅 also, if the formatting is off: excuse me, this was written AND POSTED entirely on my phone. Have fun!!!

Tag List: @danvers97 @zafirosreverie @srtamercurio @wanatag @pulledbythestars17 @plantowl @spacehahn @sarahp-stan @agentbrownierso @our-blood-is-our-ink @fruityhahn

_____________________________________________________________________________

“NO! No no no no.” Kathryn paces up and down in her hotel room. “HOW DID THEY KNOW?”

Jennifer, who is sitting on the couch, computer in her hands, looks at Agnes, who is leaning against the wall. “I’m so sorry, Kathryn.”

“This is a disaster!” She looks devastated.

“Actually, it’s press and any press is good press. PLUS, Jeffrey is a good catch.” Jennifer scans another article.

Kathryn paces towards her, takes the computer out of her hands and sits down on the couch herself as Jennifer gets up to give her some space. Leaning back into the pillows, the actress looks like a mess. A grey tank top falls loosely of her shoulders and her unbrushed hair frames her face that is in painful distress. She puts the computer down on the tiny desk next to the couch and reads an article discussing if Jeffrey and her are Hollywood’s new favorite couple.

The article promises an update and as she clicks on the link provided, she looks at very private pictures taken of herself in her hotel room. Someone must have added the numbers up and figured out where she was staying to stalk and observe her through the window that she, stupidly, didn’t close right away last night. A short series of pictures shows her in front of the window, Jeffrey behind her. Him right in front of her as he leans in for a kiss. Another one of her getting undressed. Another one of him in just his underwear during a photo shoot for another project.

Stressed and in disbelief, she doesn’t even finish reading the captions and quickly sits up again to smack the device closed. Shaking her head, she stares at the floor.

“Kathryn? Are you okay?” Agnes asks cautiously.

——-

“Honey? Are you okay?” Alex asks as you continuously stare at your screen with empty eyes.

You continue staring. “Y/N! You worry me.”

Alex sits down again and places the phone next to her so you look like you are sitting righty with her on the couch. She has been trying to calm you down ever since she got up this morning. Right as she read the first article, she knew the situation was bad.

“Hey… it’ll all make sense in the end. She wouldn’t do that. You know that! You know the press!” Alex really tries and you appreciate it, yet, right now, it’s hard for you to show your gratitude.

“Hm…” you hum and nod with empty eyes.

Ever since you’ve read the article, you have been waiting for Kathryn to reach out. She must have seen it. Jennifer must have seen it. Maybe they all did and it’s the truth and that’s why no one is saying anything.

Alex looks at you again. “It’s probably rumors! You know how it works.” More than ever before, she wishes she could simply wrap you you up in a long and loving hug and make you feel better. Sometimes, it’s hard for her to believe that you’ve been friends for as long as you have and the actress you are bonding about had more physical contact with you than she did. What a story to tell.

“I know,” you say, but the pictures keep being projected inside your head, “but the pictures. These… the pictures! His hands, the hotel, her not talking to me. It all just adds up.”

Alex sighs. You do, too. You both sit in silence.

———-

Still staring at the floor, Kathryn tenses. “Oh my god.”

The other woman stare at her with raised eyebrows.

“Y/N!! I was thinking about the press and all and totally forgot.. she must have read it! OH GOD. She… she…”

“You should probably call her…” Agnes nods.

Jennifer shakes her head. “Not now. You’re way too emotional over all of this. We should organize the press first. Write a statement if you really want to. But really, it isn’t that big of a deal.”

Agnes turns around harshly and faces Jennifer with a stern look on her face. “Excuse me, can you please be her friend again for a minute?” she points at Kathryn, “does she look like it’s not that big of a deal?”

They both face Kathryn again, who has gotten up to get dressed. Without another word, she walks past her friends and employees and storms out of the door, on her way to discuss the matter with Jeffrey.

Meanwhile, Jennifer decides to take matters into her own hands, since Kathryn seems to be way too distressed to hold a serious conversation today. Rumors about her client being with someone aren’t exactly new, but pictures taken of private situations are unacceptable. Without consulting Kathryn again, she decides to publish the statement right away to help her friend.

——-

It’s been two days since the incident and Kathryn hasn’t contacted you yet. Heartbroken, you got updated on the story as her team released a statement declaring that Kathryn wants to keep her privacy and asks for the pictures to be removed off of the internet.

You wish she would’ve called you, or at least texted, but little did you know that she got into a fight with Jeffrey as his team called the pictures good press for him and decided to not do anything about it. Following that, Jennifer took Kathryn’s phone away so that the actress could fully concentrate on the project for the rest of the week of shooting. A rule written into the contract by Kathryn herself, as she is aware she gets carried away from time to time.

Right as she has her phone back, she runs for an empty space and tries to call you. It’s the early afternoon and you are in an online class as your phone starts ringing. Reading her name, your heart drops to the floor. All the stress adds up and gets combined with the anger you feel inside of you. You take the call.

Her face fills the screen and her eyes widen as she sees the state you are in. “Honey, I’m so sorry.”

There is a moment of silence. A moment of silence where a storm is raging inside you. “NO. No. You don’t get to be like that. You don’t get to break my heart and then come back apologizing, asking me to pretend nothing happened!” Kathryn’s mouths is slightly agape and her even widen even more. She listens. “I gave you my heart, Kathryn! My time. Do you really think I’m whoring around? Staying with older woman to play round just like that? Is that what you think I am? A toy?”

You are enraged and the words keep coming and you want to call her names and scream, hold onto her and look into her eyes. But you can’t. You can’t and that’s why your words are turning into a waterfall of emotions and you yell at her as she doesn’t have a chance to react in any way.

“I can’t believe myself,” you shake your head. “I offer myself to you and there you are. Going out and sleeping with a man. A MAN. Excuse me for not having a career. Excuse me for not having a six pack like your new friend does. What the fuck, Kathryn. What the actual fuck.”

Kathryn realizes you saw the pictures. Of course you did. She raises her hand to give you a signal that she wants to talk. Your mouth, ready to rant again, closes and you look at her.

She takes a breath. “It isn’t true.”

“It…. Isn’t?” You squint your eyes.

“It isn’t.”

————

2 days ago

————

“Come and spend the night with me.”

Kathryn swirls around. “WHAT?”

Before she can help herself, she finds herself pinned against a table that is close to the window. Jeffreys face is only inches away as he slowly starts to lean in.

“STOP.” She says and tries to lean back.

Obviously confused, Jeffrey looks at her. “I thought we had a great night. What’s the problem, sweetheart? Don’t you miss having with… other people?” He smiles.

Kathryn shakes her head. “I’m… I’m seeing someone, Jeffrey. I’m sorry if this came across wrong but tonight wasn’t a date.”

He distances himself from her, utter disbelief plastered across his face. “Oh no.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not a problem. I just… I can’t. You’re a great man, but, no.”

He is still putting space in between them, looking at her with worried eyes. “Kathryn, I would’ve never. I thought you were flirting. I thought you sent signs. God, I am sorry for coming this close to you.. I… I’m just gonna leave, alright? Okay! Good night, Kathryn.”

“JEFF!” She calls for him before he can close the door. “You’re a good looking man. I bet lots of woman would kill to be me right now, but please, ask. Don’t just assume. Yeah?”

He nods and with that he leaves her room. As the door falls into its lock, Kathryn undresses her blazer and shirt and remembers to close the curtains before stripping completely to hop into the shower.

—————-

“It isn’t…..” you repeat.

“No. And I would never do that to you.” She looks at you with sad eyes. “And I can’t believe you would think I do.”

You look at each other for a moment and the sad smile on her face breaks your heart once again.

“I would never….” She repeats, whispering quietly, but loud enough for you to notice. “I would never, because….”

She stops and looks up to lock eyes with you. You are both crying and your heartbeat skips a few beats and you think you might actually pass out any second.

“I would never because I am falling. For you. I would never because I think I am in love with you.”

[mellow-em]

Bittersweet Temptations

CHAPTER 2

[special dt @bluewingedangel <3]

Your neighbors, Nathan and Elena, have been friends with your parents for years. Whether it’d be family gatherings or vacations, they were around; they were family. But when you return home from your final years of college, what will happen when you find that it isn't just them living in the house next door anymore?

_____________________________________

The afternoon sun brought in a relaxing mixture of natural light from the windows, but I wasn’t even remotely focused on it.

My right leg was bouncing hastily under the kitchen table while I prodded my salad with a fork. I tossed a particularly small carrot around in the bowl, swirling it around the sea of other vegetables.

“Are you gonna eat that or play around with it sweetie?” The sound of my mothers voice raced right through one ear and out the other one.

I only sighed in response, and leaned the side of my head on my hand, not bothering to look up at either of my parents that sat across from me.

They urged me to consistently have family meals with them today, in an attempt to dine on the experiences I had away at college. If they’d asked me to do this at any other time, I wouldn’t mind.

But my head was clouded by something else; or should I say by someone else.

Last night refused to escape my line of thinking. Even after it all went down, I went back to bed to try and fall back asleep, but it was absolutely no use.

The cunning quirk of his lips as he smirked back at me was an image that glued itself to the front of my brain. I reeled around in bed until sunrise, unable to silence my thoughts regardless of any persistence. So as of now, I was beyond exhausted.

“y/n? Are you alright?”

I jump faintly in my chair, with my fathers words pulling me away from my cogitation of the man from the pool, “I’m um.. I’m fine, sorry.”

I gave them a toothless smile as reassurance, but by the exchange of looks they both gave each other, they didn’t seem too convinced.

I shifted uncomfortably, and stabbed the carrot I was messing with. I slowly bring it towards my mouth, finally having the compulsion to take a bite.

Until the man’s wink decided to project in front of me, as if I was experiencing the whole ordeal all over again.

I abruptly dropped the fork into the bowl, resulting in a reverberating clash that not only startled my parents, but it startled me back into reality again.

“Jesus y/n, what’s gotten into you?”

I’m asking that same question, mom.

“Nothing, I uh- think I’m just tired,” the excuse flew out of my mouth in a panic, “I’m just.. I’m gonna go shower for the party later.”

I hurriedly sprung from my seat, and scurried up the stairs to the bathroom.

“Well that was smooth, dumbass,” I muttered out in the open, while slamming the door behind me.  

That son of a bitch is driving me crazy, and I haven’t even had a single conversation with him.

I take a few steps into the bathroom, placing both of my hands on opposite sides of the sink, leaning over with my body weight. With my head bowed down to the direction of my feet, I suspired deeply.

This was stupid. The brief interaction was embarrassing, yes, but with how I reacted today during lunch, especially when the party was happening later on today..

I just needed to stop thinking about what happened last night.

Act like it didn’t happen.

It didn’t happen.

____________

Turmoil carried on in the form of muffled conversations, and distinct bass from the speakers on the lower levels of the house. Even being upstairs in my room, the walls weren’t thick enough to block the noise that derived from the party.

Of course, my dad’s annual excuse backfired, and instead of the party being fairly small, it was as big as the rest of the parties we've had in the past. Although I really shouldn’t be surprised, knowing this really has carried on for 10 years at most.

As of now, I could only assume that the booze was already out for everyone, and by the end of the night, I could guarantee that almost half the people here will be drunk. It reassured me though, especially when I’ll probably end up being one of those people.

I could use a little alcohol in my system; to let myself go a little bit.

While fixing the straps of my white sundress, I looked at myself in the mirror, making sure any scraps of exhaustion were not visible on my features. Despite longing for a few hours of rest, I knew for a fact that I wasn’t going to get much yet again.

With satisfaction, I back away from my vanity, and start for the door that barricaded me from the chaos.

The exchanges of laughter became much more pronounced as I slowly opened the door, and traveled down the hall. My feet carried me towards the stairs, shaking from the rumble of the speakers seeping through the walls and floors.

It was a blessing that the noise didn’t affect our neighbors enough for them to make complaints; but that was mostly because they were all here.

With each step down the flight, more of the party overtook my vision. Guests were dispersed amongst every room as far as I could see, gathering around each other in hopes of starting conversation over the music. It had been fairly crowded to say the least.

Immediately after I make it to the ground floor, I’m bombarded by my mother.

“Hey honey, Nathan and Elena are outside if you want to say hello to them!” her slightly raising her voice didn't really help much, with us being right next to the speakers. But I nodded letting her know I understood.

Turning away from her, I then faced the crowd of people in front of me. I start to weave my way through, making slight pauses along the way to thank them for coming. Most of the people around me had a slight stench of beer already, making me scrunch my nose; that smell is definitely going to linger afterwards.

Eventually making it to the door, I slide it open and step out, letting the freshness of the outside air fill my senses. I quickly noticed the difference between the outdoors and the impeded aura from inside the house. It felt like I was finally able to breathe.

After shutting the sliding door behind me, I strolled away towards the yard.

I made sure to make a slight detour to the cooler to grab myself a beer though, rashly cracking it open as soon as I got my hands on one. I take a swig while observing the guests around me.

As soon as I saw a familiar head of blonde hair a few yards away, I could feel myself smile widely. I hadn’t seen Nate or Elena in four years, and being back home now is making me realize how much I missed them.

The both of them had moved into the neighborhood about a year after my family, and that was over 15 years ago. Ever since then, they hit it off more than you could imagine.

They had all gotten so close to one another, that they’d have annual dinners together, game nights and tag along on all of our family trips. They would even bring in their ideal vacation spots up to us, which evolved into us traveling to entirely different countries most of the time.

While Elena and my mom went to any beach they could find, and my dad found the bar, Nathan really wanted to drag me along to the historical landmarks and teach me about everything he knew. It made our relationship blossom, and now I considered him my second father.

Plus, because of him I began to develop an endless love for history.

I liked it so much that I made the decision to go to college for it. Nathan’s reaction when I told him before I left was something for the cover of a photo album, and I just knew already that a million questions were going to arise when I got to them.

I stepped down from the deck, and walked towards them with my lips still curled in a smile.

As I made it closer to them though, my gaze became hazy. With my brows contorting, my confused demeanor became more visible with every footstep I made closer to Nate and Elena.

There was another man wrapped into their conversation. He was taller than the other two, especially Elena. I noticed his hair slicked back ruggedly, from above the others’ heads. Though, I still couldn’t get a proper look at his face yet.

I turned my direction slightly to discreetly see who my neighbors were conversing with. My curious nature was overriding my body.

I should have just listened to that universally cliche phrase.

Curiosity did kill the fucking cat, and I wish it would just kill me now.

From here, I had a clear view of his face. He stood there listening to Nate’s banter, with a cigarette wedged between his lips.

The lips I had been staring at the night before, along with the rest of him.

Shit shit shit shit shit.

By this point I would’ve  been repeating my annual habit of staring in place. But  fortunately, I turned on my heal sharply to try and escape.  

“Oh my god y/n?” My breath hitched while Elena's voice rang out towards me.

Well great.

I held that particular breath in as I turned my body once more to face her. My warm smile returned to my face, but a layer of embarrassment and panic riddled beneath the surface.

“Elena, it’s so good to see you,” I went over and wrapped my arms around her carefully, keeping her baby bump in mind, “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too,” she returned the hug, leaning close to my ear, mumbling, “especially when I’ve had to deal with him all alone. I swear sometimes I really question whether the pregnancy hormones are hitting me or him harder.”

I look over at Nate for a quick second, stifling a laugh while I let go of Elena. The two of us continued laughing faintly, certainly gaining the attention of Nate.

“What are you two laughing about? What’d I do this time?” Nate looked genuinely perplexed, which made it funnier.

“Oh nothing, Nate,” Elena and I looked at each other, smirking as she spoke.

Even with Elena and I’s pleasant interaction, that uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach just wouldn’t quit. I just knew he was watching my every move.

Especially, when in the corner of my eye, I watched his travel with me as I went to give Nate his hug.

“It’s good to have you back, Crash.”

Hearing the nickname took me away from my thoughts on the man behind me for a moment, and made my smile lift. 

“It’s been too long, Aku.”

We stayed this way for a few more seconds, until I feel him pat my back. I let my arms fall away from him, and return to my spot in front of them.

I then feel my head slowly turn over to the unknown one of the three; well to me he was unknown. 

“So who’s this?” I cross my arms in front of me, anticipating an answer from one of them.

But silence continued to radiate around us. 

They all stood there, exchanging looks with one another, making me raise one of my brows. While awaiting a response I decided to take a long sip of my beer, feeling the cold liquid slide down my throat. 

That is, before Nate finally spoke up, “Y/n, this is Sam,” he paused, and I could see the hesitation written all over him, “Sam Drake.”

I almost choked on my beer as soon as I heard the last name. I thought for a solid minute that my eyes were going to fall out of their sockets. 

“Is this your-” I pointed between the both of them.

“He’s my older brother.” Nate finishes my sentence, as he scratched at the back of his neck. 

My face fell even more if it was even possible.

Wait.

Nate was in his early forties to begin with, so that would make Sam…

I looked at Sam’s face intensely again, specifically at the wrinkles that were tainted across his face. Now that my brain was functioning properly, unlike last night, I noticed how many there really were. 

Great. Not only was I checking out Nathan’s BROTHER, but the man that was more than twice my age.

Fuck.

[dawn-cafe]

Modern AU meet-cute series

A/N: I didn't have to include a moodboard with this but I felt like being extra.  Also... this was meant to be just a headcanon list but here's a whole ficlet, I guess! Can’t decide if I’m gonna finish Childe’s or Diluc’s after this, so inputs are welcome. Requests are open, rules are here! -Hal

Prompt: meet-cute

Content includes: Part 1 of Modern AU meet-cute series. model!kaeya, semi-ooc kaeya i think, florist!reader

Pairing: kaeya x gn!reader

Kaeya: he's a model who's escaping the paparazzi and you're closing up your flower shop

Kaeya's a pretty big-name model in Mondstadt.

He's been featured in Fontaine Fashion Week for the past 2 years and has modeled for every season for Favonius & Co.'s works.

With such popularity, you'd think he'd have some sort of body guard to keep him away from the prying eyes of Teyvat Pop News.

But no, he's a pretty stubborn guy and Jean, his manager, never fails to give him a piece of her mind every time.

He finds himself escaping from a few paparazzi as he's walking home from the mall, so he detours and tries to find a place to rest after he think he's lost them.

Kaeya then spots the lights on inside a little flower shop and thinks, "Oh, thank god."

You're closing up your little flower shop, sweeping the floor of any fallen leaves and flower petals you've cut up for the day. Normally, you'd keep the shop running til evening, but something felt off and you couldn't place what it was. So it's only late afternoon, yet the shop sign has been flipped to 'CLOSED' and you're packing up hours before closing time. There's faint music coming from the back room and you're humming along to the tune when the serenity gets cut off by something knocking on glass. You jump in surprise, looking behind you to see someone by the porch. By the looks of it, they were out of breath from running.

Setting aside your cleaning equipment, you walk up to the door to see a blue-haired guy, dressed in similar-colored clothing, hands on his knees as he pants. He looks up at you with starry blue eyes and blows his bangs away. You think he looks familiar, and that he's breathtaking even when he looks frazzled.

The chimes ring as you open the door a crack. "Hey, sorry..." you start, "but we're closed for the day." you tell him halfheartedly.

Kaeya stands up and you see he's taller than you expected. He leans back and looks to the side past the road, and blue eyes meet yours in desperation. "Sorry, I'm trying to get away from... a few people." His head tilts to the side, puts on the best puppy-dog eyes he can muster, and clasps his hands together. "Can I come in and stay for a while?" he pleads.

It's bizarre, you think, that someone could look so innocently cute yet dangerously handsome at the same time. At first, your instinct is to open your mouth and agree to help him. Of course, if this was a bad situation and you're the only refuge he could find, who were you to deny him? Though there's also the possibility that this could be a really bad scheme, and he'll rob you as soon as you let him in. He looks too dashing to do such a thing, but you can never be too sure... but also do robbers even wear designer clothes like he does?

He senses the hesitation in the way you don't immediately respond. "I-It's nothing dangerous, I swear!" Kaeya's slim hands are held up in front of him in defense before he runs it through his deep blue locks. The cool afternoon breeze sweeps his cologne to your direction. He smells of mint, of fresh summer air and freedom. "The paparazzi won't get off my back and I could really use the help," He explains briefly.

At the mention of paparazzi, it makes so much more sense. You still don't remember where you've seen him, but he sure fits the role of some celebrity by the way he dresses and carries himself. That... and his face looks really attractive. He's still smiling at you with just the tiniest bit of desperation creeping in his voice when he talks. All caution goes out the window as you open the door wider. There's still no one behind him, but you usher him inside your little shop. "Alright, but if they start bombarding my business, that's on you." you warn him playfully.

The breath he's holding escapes as he exhales in relief. "You're an angel," He beams at you with the brightest of smiles.

The door closes and is locked once again, and you go around the shop to close the blinds just a little. Kaeya breathes in. He's not the first stranger to walk in your shop, but it sure feels a little awkward as if you're being judged. "Do all flower shops smell this good, or is it just yours?" he asks coyly, taking in the array of flowers and plants on display. The playful roll of your eyes and your retort of "Do you ask this to all florists, or is it just me?" make him laugh, with his eyes crinkling at the corners and a hand over his chest.

He follows you around, assisting you in closing up, and you don't miss the way he wipes a bead of sweat off his forehead most likely due to his escapade. "It's better this way," you say, pulling a string to close a set of blinds, "at least they won't see you." With the last of the blinds shut, you turn to your pseudo-customer and ask, "Would you like some water?"

"Please." the embarrassment shows on his face.

You disappear in the back room for a bit, grabbing a bottle of water from the mini-fridge. When you emerge to the front of the shop, you find Kaeya seated on a barstool next to the counter, idly thumbing the calla lilies on display next to the cash register. The beginning of the day's sunset peeks through the slats of the blinds, capturing him like a painting. It's peaceful, ethereal, and you almost want to pull out your phone and take a quick photo to immortalize what you see. It doesn't help that some love song starts playing on the shop's speakers. The spell is broken when he catches you looking, and he looks at you with an easygoing smile.

Clearing your throat, you step forwards and place the bottle of water in front of him. You feel the heat rise to your cheeks, and if he notices you were staring, he doesn't comment on it. "Here." You place the bottle in front of him and he takes it eagerly. "Thank you." Kaeya bows his head graciously.

Picking up where you left off, you hold the broomstick and dustpan and start cleaning the floors again. "So um... you're gonna have to forgive me," you sheepishly smile at him, "but why are you being chased by the paps?"

As fate would have it, the magazine rack next to the counter has several magazines including a copy of last month's Mondstadt Fashion. And he recognizes himself on the cover, wearing a few of Favonius & Co.'s Spring Collection pieces. Kaeya picks up the magazine and places it on the counter, which you peer at curiously. The double-take you do makes him laugh again, watching you look at the cover, then to him in front of you, and back at the cover.

"Oh," you murmur as the realization dawns on you. "you're a model."

You don't dwell much on celebrity gossip so you don't really recognize most of them at first glance. But no wonder he seemed familiar, you'd seen him in a couple of magazines both in your store and in news sites. If paparazzi were chasing him, he must be a huge hit with the general public.

For Kaeya, however, he shrugs like it's no big deal. "Specifically, Teyvat's hottest model and top bachelor of 2021." he says as he closes the water bottle cap. "According to Mond Fashion." he adds with a cheeky wink. You scrunch up your nose impishly. "Still though, having paparazzi invade your privacy and all." you shake your head to the floor mostly, still occupied with cleaning the remaining dirt. "Glad I could be of use somewhat." you tell him.

“Kaeya.” he holds out his hand in a formal handshake.

You give him your name and grasp his hand; it’s soft, like the smile that never leaves his face

Kaeya offers to help around with your closing routine, but you stop him before he could pick up the broom again. It feels wrong having someone else do your tasks even though it's offered in good faith (and after all, he wanted to repay you for taking him in past your closing time). So you settle with having him arrange your excess daisies in a basket for tomorrow's bouquet orders. It's pretty easy work that he couldn't mess up, so you leave him at it while you clean out your floral buckets. Still, you try to speed through your routine and leisurely chat with him, thinking he must be bored with his task. 

What hobbies do celebrities even have?, you wonder. Surely it can't be chatting up some florist and counting flowers.

"Do I look pretty?" he asks abruptly. And when your eyes land on him, your breath gets caught in your throat.

Kaeya looks different. In fashion magazines he's featured in, he's always prim and proper, composed. It's not to say he's stiff, because he definitely carries that confidence wherever he goes. But to be dressed and told to act, smile, and pose a certain way; it can look... artificial. But here, sitting on a barstool with a few daisies in his hair; here with his blue jacket draped across his lap, a loose white shirt and hands full of flowers. Here, where instead of studio lights, it's just the soft lights overhead on your small store. And here, where instead of cameras taking shots upon shots of his face, it's just you in your apron that he focuses on.

"Breathtakingly so." You smile.

By the end of the day, he has a whole flower crown on his head and you wonder why blue's related to sadness when it's brought you joy when you least expect it. 

[lucyintheskywithxanax]

At 11:08pm In The Music Room, I Was Saved (Part 2)

Pairing: Wilhemina Venable x Fem Reader

Part 1

A/N: second and last part, lovelies. Thank you again anon for this prompt (I may have, once again, deviated from your original idea bear with me), and thank you @venablemayfairgoode for helping me figure out the end (tw: the death of a dog is mentioned :))))))) ). As always, English isn’t my first language. x

Word count:  ≈ 7 000

You were so fucking pissed. Also, you couldn’t stop crying. The world had ended on a beautiful late spring afternoon and now, for some reason, you were trapped in a gloomy building with people you didn’t know and the woman who had broken your heart bossing you around.

And the worst was, you had been so relieved to know she had survived. And you shouldn’t have. But the tears you had cried on the plane to Outpost 3 had not only been for your family and friends; they had also been for her. They had mostly been for her. And you hated yourself because of that.

She looked different. Her clothes were darker, her hair was darker, her eyes were darker and they were glazed. They looked as if they were made of stone. Tourmaline maybe. Something bad must have happened to her, but you decided you didn’t care. Bad things had happened to you, too, and one of them she had caused.

“There’s been a mistake,” she said, voice very deep and very slow. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I don’t want to be here,” you sobbed.

“You were assigned at Outpost 2.”

You were so mad at her. Had she done this? Ripped you from your family and sent you to this dark place to spend the rest of your life consumed by grief and guilt and hatred? She couldn’t have done this, she wouldn’t have done this but then again and was that panic in her eyes? It was gone before you had time to take a good look at it, but you knew her. You knew how to read her.

“Why are you here?” she asked, as if you had chosen to, as if it had been your decision.

“Because some rude guys barged into my flat and shoved me into a plane,” you sobbed, wiping your nose on the back of your hand. “I don’t want to be here,” you repeated.

“You should’ve been sent to Outpost 2,” she said. She was trying so hard to hide the confusion from her face, but you saw it, and you saw that flash in her eyes again and it was panic.

Suddenly it hit you: how could she know where you should have been sent? How could she –

“Did you…” It was hard to speak. Your throat was too tight. Your eyes widened with horror, and hers hardened. “Are you the reason why I’m here?”

You were vaguely aware that everyone else in the room was staring at you and Wilhemina. You should have felt ill-at-ease, should have felt shy. But all you could feel was anger.

“I don’t want to be here!” you cried again, but this time it was fierce. This time it was a cry of rage.

Wilhemina tapped her cane on the ground. The sound echoed off the walls.

“Better sad than dead,” she said coldly. And then she proceeded to ignore you as she explained the house rules.

You barely heard what she said. You were burning, and you couldn’t stop your tears from falling. This was not happening. You were in a dream. You would wake up and everything would be alright. You would count to ten and the nightmare would end.

You counted to ten. It didn’t end.  

What you did hear of Wilhemina’s speech sounded ridiculous. No technology? No sex? Death punishment for intimacy? People basically being your slaves? Her eyes were too cold. They were glazed. This wasn’t the Wilhemina you knew. The Wilhemina you knew had used cruelty for protection. This one used cruelty for fun.

A few people protested, but the protests didn’t last long. This Wilhemina was just as scary as the one you knew.

And then she was leaving, to the sound of her cane, every tap a stab to your heart. A Grey led you to your room and you collapsed on your bed, hugged your pillow, and cried.

The next few days you didn’t leave your room often. You felt so empty. You spent most of your time lying on your bed and grieving the people you had lost. You got up for lunch and dinner. Sat at the table and stared at your plate as the others tried to make small talk. The food cube had no taste. It felt like jelly in your mouth. You hated it. You hated having to swallow it. You hated how it never soothed the hunger in your stomach.

You sat on the left side of the table. Wilhemina sat at the head of it. The light from the candles would glint off your food cube and fork. Coco sat on your left, a girl named Mary on your right. Coco would do most of the talking. Complaining, really. Sometimes – but only sometimes – you would glance in Wilhemina’s direction. Once or twice, she met your eyes. Hers were cold and like a black hole.

After the first week your tears finally subsided. You spent more time in the music room with the others, playing board games, reading, talking. Coco was a bitch, but she made you laugh, and you soon befriended the girl named Mary. She was about your age, was very shy and didn’t speak often. She kept in her pocket a photo of the dog she had owned and loved more than anything else, a small, sweet thing with big black eyes named Sam.

You didn’t know how Wilhemina spent her days. You barely ever saw her. You could forget her, you thought, if you didn’t dream of her every night. You would forget her if only your stupid heart would stop skipping a beat and break into a gallop every time you heard the familiar sound of her cane, letting you know she was coming, she was coming! in a second you would see her and be near her and hear her voice. You would forget her if she wasn’t your first thought every damn morning when you woke up. If when she was near you, you didn’t feel like you were burning and suddenly became aware of every single sound that was her, the rustle of her dress, her breathing, her heart beating, her eyelashes fluttering, everything.

You barely ever saw her, but when you did, time stopped, and it lasted forever.

You fell into a routine. Aimless, dreary. Getting out of bed every morning. Eating your food cube. Making small talk with the other residents. A teary-eyed Mary showing you her picture of Sam. Trying not to think, not to remember. It went on like this for a week and a half, until two Greys were found having sex and were sentenced to death.

It was Mary who told you the news, just before dinner. At first you thought she was joking. But then every soul at the Outpost was talking about it and even Coco seemed scared.

You didn’t know the Grey girl, but you had spoken to the boy once or twice. His name was Mark. He smiled at you every time you would meet him in a corridor.

You ate your food cube in complete silence and shock. When dinner was over, when Wilhemina stood up and walked off, you didn’t think. You stood up, too, and followed her.

She didn’t become aware of your presence until she was halfway down the corridor to her room. You saw her slow down, come to a halt. She tapped her cane on the floor, then turned on her heel.

Time slowed down. You noticed every detail, even the smallest ones. The way the candlelight glided over her cheekbones as she turned. You were still so attuned to her, every inch of her.

You stopped breathing as her eyes locked with yours. And it would have been so easy, to take a step forward, to wrap your arms around her waist, to pull her close and go back home. It seemed her eyes were pleading you to do just that.

But then she blinked, and her eyes turned cold. Glazed. Tourmaline. You felt your body stiffen.

“May I speak to you?” you asked, almost a hiss. Then you added, “Ms Venable.”

She narrowed her eyes slightly at you, raised her chin. “I do not care to hear what you have to say,” she said coldly.

You took a step forward and snarled, “I will say it. You can either listen to me here, or in your room. Office. Whatever.”

Her nostrils flared, and for a second you thought she was going to slap you. You had seen her slap some of the other residents who had dared question her rules. That was one of the things the new Wilhemina had no problem doing.

But she merely nodded, almost imperceptibly, and led you to her room.

You tried not to look. At the bed, perfectly made, at the pillow where she laid her head every night. At the vanity where she did her hair and make-up every morning. All the small rituals you knew so well.

It hurt. Merely standing there in her room felt like someone was crushing your heart between cold fingers.  

You came to a halt in the middle of the room and tried to swallow past the lump in your throat. Wilhemina stopped in front of you, rested both her hands on the head of her cane.

How did she look so different? Why was her face so hard and so cold? She reminded you of the ancient statues of Greek or Italian gods. The powerful, lifeless stare. The dangerous power. How she could destroy you – how she had destroyed you – with one word or one tap of her cane on the floor.

You searched her face for the light, for the fear, for the love, the shyness and the boldness, the desire to be completely, truly seen and loved. You found nothing.

“Well?” she asked, annoyed, after a while.

You cleared your throat. “I heard you’re gonna have Mark and that Grey girl executed tomorrow morning.”

“You heard right,” she mocked.

You cleared your throat again. Your right hand twitched at your side. “Why?”

She made an annoyed noise. “You know why. They didn’t follow the rules. They put their own little disgusting needs first and compromised the group. We cannot have more mouths to feed.”

“Disgusting needs,” you repeated automatically. You took one step towards her and raised your head defiantly. “I don’t remember you calling sex ‘disgusting’ when we were doing it.”

Something flashed in her eyes. Something that almost looked familiar.

“Don’t be crude,” she hissed.

“You cannot have those two Greys killed,” you went on, ignoring her. “That’s murder, Wilhemina.”

Her name dropped from your mouth before you had time to think. You paused. She didn’t react.

“I know you’re better than that,” you added, taking another step towards her. Closer. You wanted to reach out and touch her. It seemed to you she was leaning forward, forward – towards you. It seemed to you her eyes flicked to your lips.

How you had missed her. How you missed her still. How you wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her and demand an explanation as to why she had destroyed your world, stolen all the stars from your night sky. How had she dared, who did she think she was, and what had happened to her that had stolen all the light from her eyes?

“For God’s sake, Wilhemina,” you cried when still she didn’t react, didn’t speak, didn’t move, “you can’t kill two people for being in love!”

“Why not?”she hissed, low and dangerous, like a snake.”What’s so special about love?”

“You know what’s so special about love. You felt it.” A pause. “And don’t tell me you didn’t. You may think you were good at hiding your feelings, but you weren’t.”

Wilhemina’s gaze hardened. “Those two Greys will die tomorrow at dawn,” she answered emotionlessly.

You raised your hands in frustration. “What’s wrong with you?” you cried. Again, she didn’t react. Her silence only fueled your anger. “If you do that,” you went on, gritting your teeth to stop yourself from yelling the words, “if you have them killed, you’ll be walking down a path I cannot follow you on.” You gave a mirthless laugh. “But I guess you don’t care. Who am I kidding? You don’t want to have anything to do with me anymore. You made that clear months ago. But ask yourself this question, Wilhemina: will you be able to sleep knowing you’ve killed two innocent people?”

Oh, she would. Without a doubt she would. She knew it and you knew it and you saw it on her face. Yours turned sickly pale.

“Okay,” you mumbled, lowering your head in defeat. “Okay. I – you know what, I –“ You met her eyes again. “I don’t even know how I could fall in love with you in the first place.”

She swallowed, but her face remained blank. But that familiar something flashed in her eyes again, something sad, that looked almost like the Wilhemina she used to be.

You knew confronting her would likely make her shut down. You knew that. But you were only human, for God’s sake, and you had been hurt and betrayed and it was a well-known fact, that anger was stronger than Man.

So you took yet another step towards her and clenched your fists.

“I have questions,” you growled, “and you’re going to answer them. Why am I here? What made you think you could dump me with no explanation? Did you even love me, or was it all a game to you?”

By the end of your little outburst you were breathless, and Wilhemina, the Wilhemina you had tried to reach and caught a glimpse of, had been roughly locked away.

“Say one more word,” she enunciated, glazed, empty eyes staring right into yours,” and I’ll have you arrested and whipped every day until you meet your pitiful end.”

You opened your mouth, but she cut you off. “Don’t forget who you are, Y/N. I’m the only one who has authority here. If you question me or my rules again, I’ll make sure that insolent tongue of yours is nicely severed from the rest of your body. And don’t think I won’t enjoy watching.”

Your whole body was shaking. But it wasn’t with fear. It was with rage, and with something else you didn’t like at all, for that something else was love. Love that was terrified and aching because this wasn’t her, this wasn’t right, and part of you desperately wanted to make it right again.

Someone knocked on the door. Your eyes widened.

Don’t, you screamed at Wilhemina in your head. Ignore whoever it is. Talk to me. Let me in, let me help you, let me –

“Yes?” Wilhemina called.

The door opened, and Mary shyly stepped into the room. “I, um, I’m sorry to bother you,” she said in her sweet, low voice. “But, um, Y/N, I need your help with something.”

“Can’t it wait?” you asked her, your gaze not leaving Wilhemina’s face, your voice shaking, your body shaking with rage and love and ache.

“Obviously it cannot,” Wilhemina answered, eyes boring into you. “Or else little Mary wouldn’t have been brave enough to push that door open.”

Mary shot her a scared glance and immediately lowered her eyes again.

Send her off, you begged Wilhemina. Make me stay.

Her gaze was too intense, it was too cold, too dark. You lowered your head and turned to Mary.

“I lied,” Mary whispered once she had closed the door behind you two. She glanced up at you with a smile. “I don’t need your help with anything. I just thought I should come and rescue you.”

You swallowed. Your body was still shaking, and you couldn’t unclench your fists. “Right.”

“I heard her threaten you. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you retorted sharply.

Wilhemina wouldn’t hurt you, you thought. She had only tried to scare you, to push you away. She would never carry out her threat.

But then again. You didn’t know what this new Wilhemina was capable of. Fear vaguely sang in your chest. Maybe she had meant every word.

“If there’s anything I can do to help you,” Mary was saying, “please tell me. I’ll be happy to listen.”

You thanked her, told her you wanted to be alone, and went to your room.

**

Wilhemina had decided the execution would be public to set an example. All the residents of Outpost 3 gathered in the music room and the two Greys who were to die were ordered to sit down on their knees in the middle of the room. They were both crying. Pathetic. Weak. Wilhemina looked down on them and smiled to herself.

A guard walked in with a gun. The Grey boy whimpered.

Someone – the hairdresser – mumbled something, a protest probably, but he was too scared to say it loudly. The old lady who had once been a star nodded at Wilhemina and gave her a smile and a thumbs up. Wilhemina ignored her.

You were standing in front of her slightly on her left, by Mary’s side. Wilhemina was trying not to pay you attention, but somehow you were the only person she could see.

You spent an awful lot of time with Mary, she had noticed. Laughing together, talking together, napping together. Good thing for you. Mary was just the type of person who would treat you right. She’d be kind, and happy, and healthy, and enough.

The Grey boy said something, pleaded for his life, probably. Wilhemina didn’t care. She didn’t listen. She nodded to the guard, and he crossed to him, holding the gun in front of him.

Wilhemina saw Mary grab your hand, saw you touch your shoulder to hers. Oh, you would be alright.

She didn’t know why, but her eyes had started to sting. Her hands were shaking. She willed them not to. They would not stop.

The guard raised his gun, pointed it at the Grey boy’s head, but Wilhemina didn’t see him, not really. She saw you turn your head and look at her, your eyes glossy and pleading, your hand holding Mary’s, and Wilhemina took a sharp intake of breath and felt tears pool in her eyes for she had loved and loved you and she had lost you. And now she was losing you again.

But she couldn’t go back, not now. She would lose her authority, she would be laughed at. And besides, she didn’t want to. This execution was the right thing to do. It would make everyone at the Outpost fear and respect her. They would bow their heads to her and they would hate her but they would never, never laugh at her.

There was a low but fierce shout, “Stop!” Your voice.

The guard lowered his arm slightly. He looked at you, confused, then at Wilhemina, awaiting orders. You stepped forward, letting go of Mary’s hand, came to a halt as if you weren’t sure what to do. A second passed. Then you crossed to Wilhemina, cupped her face in your hands, searched her eyes and murmured, “I love you.”

Something inside of her melted. The warmth from your touch and the warmth from your voice seeped into her and turned ice into water. The water washed down everything and left her insides dripping wet and glinting in the sun like after a hurricane.

You had spoken too low for the others to hear, but they saw the change on Wilhemina’s face. They saw her eyes widen and the light weave in as if she had opened a blind to let the sun in. They saw life and emotion settle back on her face and soften it.

For the first time since the world had ended, since you had walked into this music room sobbing and looked up and met Wilhemina’s eyes, you found her again. And you fell in love with her all over again.

You tried to give her a smile, and it was small and quivering, but it was genuine. It was fond. Wilhemina’s lips parted on a breath as she searched your eyes, wondering, hoping, and when she blinked a tear rolled down her cheek and you caught it with your thumb. You were crying, too, but you smiled again, stroke her cheek. You felt the tension leave your shoulders.

The gunshot echoed off the walls as loud as a crack of thunder. It made everyone in the room jump. The Grey girl screamed as Mark slumped onto the floor at the guard’s feet. The guard moved his hand, pointed his gun at the girl and pulled the trigger.

The second gunshot was louder, somehow. It deafened you and left a ringing in your ears. Your hands fell from Wilhemina’s face as you both turned to stare at the two corpses. Blood slowly pooled around them and shone faintly in the candlelight.

The guard met your horrified gaze and shrugged. “Following orders,” he said nonchalantly. “It was taking too long.”

Wilhemina was staring down at the two dead bodies with an unreadable expression on her face. Then she looked up at the guard, and her eyes were glazed again.

“I didn’t order you to shoot,” she said coldly.

“You did,” the guard argued.

“She told you to stop,” Wilhemina said, nodding at you, her voice growing angry now.

The guard shrugged again. “I only take my orders from you.” He raised his gun and held it to his chest, a defiant look in his eyes.

Someone in the room was crying softly. You didn’t know who. Your mind had gone numb.

Wilhemina turned away from you. Slowly, regally, she walked to the corpses, her dark, glazed eyes fixed on the boy’s head. She stopped in front of him and tapped her cane on the ground. Then she gave orders to carry the corpses outside and burn them.

Dinner was silent that night. You swallowed your food cube and drank your water. You couldn’t look at Wilhemina. Coco tried to diffuse the tension with a few sly remarks that made some of the residents laugh nervously. When dinner was over, you excused yourself and went to your room.

You lay on your bed and prayed for sleep, but sleep, unsurprisingly, didn’t come. You turned and turned until you gave up. You sat up with a groan and buried your face in your hands.

Blood, slowly pooling. The two bodies, not moving. Wilhemina’s eyes, widening. A tear rolling down her face, that you caught with your thumb. You couldn’t chase those images from your mind.

It hadn’t been her fault, not really, you told yourself. She would have spared them in the end. You knew it. Without a doubt.

You buried your fingers in your hair, dug your nails into your skull. She would have spared them, for the Wilhemina you knew had come back, if only for a few seconds – and she had been hopeful, and you had been, too.  

And you knew you should still be mad, you knew it was too early to forgive her. But you were ready to surrender and fall back into her arms the second she’d want you back. If she ever decided she wanted you back.

There was a whisper, in your head, that assured you she did.

At 11:00pm you gave up on trying to sleep. You got up and went to the music room, hoping someone would be there and would like to talk to help you pass the time. Maybe Coco, for she would make you laugh. Or Mary, for her kindness would soothe you.

There was only one person, and it was Wilhemina. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of her. You thought it was because of annoyance, or disappointment maybe. Bullshit, your heart told you. She had been the one you had wanted to find.

Wilhemina was sitting in an armchair, her hands resting on the head of her cane, her eyes fixed on the fire. She raised her head when she heard your footsteps, and met your eyes.

“What are you still doing up?” she asked, not unkindly.

“There’s no curfew I know of,” you replied, probably too sharply, but Wilhemina didn’t seem to mind. She nodded, then resumed her staring at the fire.

For a minute you hesitated. Going back to your room was the wisest and safest option. But before you had consciously taken your decision, your feet moved towards Wilhemina. A moth drawn to a flame. Always, when it came to her.

You sat on the armchair opposite the hearth from her. For a long moment there was only silence. The fire crackled lazily and warmed you up.  

You glanced up at Wilhemina, only to realize she was staring at you. You quickly lowered your gaze, nervously shifted in your armchair, then glanced at her again.  

The expression on her face wasn’t closed, you noticed. There was a wistfulness to it, some sprinkles of curiosity, too. You felt hopeful again.

“So,” you said, assuming a casual tone as if you two were having a friendly conversation in a bar, “what’s your plan in the long run?”

Wilhemina watched you for a few seconds before she answered. Her voice was emotionless. “The Cooperative should contact me soon enough with new instructions.”

That’s not what you had meant. You had meant about her and you. But you let it drop.

“So you’re still following orders, uh?” you taunted. “I thought you were the only boss around here.”

“This is bigger than this outpost,” Wilhemina replied coldly. “This is about building a new, better world, where everyone is at their rightful place according to their worth and abilities.”

“What is my rightful place in this new world, do you think?” You waited, but no answer came.”What is yours?” you tried again. “Let me guess. You are the feared, hated leader. Making sure everyone respects you, making sure everyone survives. Noble work, but it sounds awfully lonely. Wouldn’t you rather fall asleep in somebody’s arms every night?”

Wilhemina’s expression hardened. She kept silent, which surprised you, and averted her eyes from your face to stare at the fire again.

You watched her. You watched the shadows the flames threw on her face. Followed the arch of her brow, the line of her mouth.

Had she done something to her hair, or was it the dim light? It was darker now. She had let you dye it once when you two had been dating. You had frowned at the smell and coughed and splashed the walls with tiny dots of orange. Wilhemina had tried to scold you, but she had burst into laughter instead, her hair piled on top of her head. She had let you wipe the dye splatters from her face and tuck her hair in a shower cap. And while the dye processed, she had sat on the couch reading and you had rested your head on her lap and grinned at her.  

Wilhemina cleared her throat, bringing you back to reality.

“What you said earlier, did you really mean it?” she asked in a low voice, still staring at the fire. “Or were you only trying to save the Greys?”

You leaned forward, digging your elbows into your thighs. “I’ll answer that once you’ve answered my own question. Why did you leave me?”

A pause. An annoyed look.

“Because I felt like it,” Wilhemina replied.

Your jaw dropped. “Wow. Because you felt like it?” You shook your head, anger rising in your chest. “I don’t believe you. I’ll ask it again. Why did you leave me?”

Wilhemina’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve just told you why. It’s not my fault you’re too proud to accept it.”

“Why did you leave me?” you repeated, clenching your fists.

Wilhemina made an angry noise. She tapped her cane on the floor, then slowly stood up. You jumped on your feet and followed her when she crossed the room and turned right down a corridor.

“Did you wake up one morning and realize you didn’t love me?” you called, as she opened the door to her room. You stepped inside after her. “You’d had your fun, but now it was time to plan the end of the world? Uh? Do you have any idea,” you growled, voice growing louder and angrier, “how it felt to watch you leave without even knowing what I did wrong?”

“I never wanted to hurt you,” Wilhemina said, voice quavering.

“Then why the fuck did you leave?” you growled, taking one step toward her. “Tell me! For fuck’s sake, I deserve an explanation!”

She couldn’t meet your eyes anymore. She was staring at the floor and her breathing was quickening at it always would when she was trying not to cry. And suddenly you were in the company of the Wilhemina you knew, the one you loved, the one who didn’t think she should be soft and kind but was still willing to try, for you.

“Elijah came to see me,” she answered, so low you barely heard it.

“So what?” you growled. “You fucked him and realized he was your one true love?”

She winced, and you bit your cheek, thinking that maybe you had gone a bit too far. But she deserved it, part of you thought. She had hurt you too badly.

You waited, but she didn’t add anything after that. So, rage beating inside your chest instead of your heart, you strode to her and planted yourself right in front of her, fuming, and she flinched but held her ground.

“Tell me,” you hissed through gritted teeth. “Why did you leave me?”

She drew in a breath, turned away from you and crossed to her chest of drawers. You were about to yell at her when she opened one of the drawers, closed it again. She crossed back to you and dropped something into your hand.

A lighter. Small and black and plain. You stared at it uncomprehendingly.

“What…?”

Wilhemina had never been good with words. But when you two had been dating, she had been willing to open herself up to you in any way she could. Actions sometimes were easier, she had found.

You glanced up at her, then back down at the lighter in your palm. “I don’t understand,” you said.

Wilhemina had averted her gaze from you again. “I couldn’t pick it up from the floor,” she whispered brokenly.

It didn’t hit you all at once like a revelation. Instead it felt like something spreading inside your head. A bubble. Slowly inflating until it burst.

“What?”

Somehow, it was the only thing you could say.

Wilhemina squared her shoulders, raised her chin, built up her walls. She met your eyes and glared.

“You got what you wanted. Now leave before I feed you to the monsters outside.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but instead you burst into tears.

Your chin dropped to your chest and you sobbed, as Wilhemina stared at you in shock. She extended one hand towards you, hesitated, changed her mind. Her brow pushed up in confusion and concern as she waited for you to calm down, dying to touch and comfort you, but not daring to. She had lost you, after all. She hadn’t been enough.

Some people are just too fucked up to be loved, Elijah had said. She could hear his voice now as if he were saying it again, remembered his exact intonation, the way he had pronounced every syllable.

“It’s alright,” she tried after a little while. “He was right.”

“Who was right?” you sobbed, wiping your eyes.

“Elijah. I did the right thing for you.”

That made you burst into tears again. Except this time, you wrapped your arms around Wilhemina’s waist and pulled her close.

She stiffened against you, but you buried your face in her chest and held her tight and cried and cried at how blind you had been. Your heart broke, but this time it didn’t break for you. It broke for her. For how low her self-esteem was, how she had tried over and over again to be kinder and softer and yet had still been convinced loving her was a burden. Loving her had been the best thing in your whole goddamn life.

Tentatively, Wilhemina slipped one arm around your waist and rested her chin on top of your head.

“I’m gonna bring Elijah back from Hell and kill him,” you mumbled against her chest.

“But he didn’t do anything wrong,” Wilhemina replied. “He was right. All he did was love you so much he only wanted the best for you.”

You shook your head, wailing as Wilhemina brought her free hand up to your head and started stroking your hair.

“I’m so sorry,” you choked. “I’m so sorry.”

Wilhemina’s fingers stuttered in your hair. “What for?” she asked, and you couldn’t see her face but you knew what her expression must be like right now, brow pushed up in confusion, eyes wide as she tried to think of something to say or do to help you calm down.

You sobbed against her chest and tightened your grip on her. “I’m so sorry he did this to you and I let him.”

“I don’t –“She paused, hesitated. “I don’t understand,” she breathed after a moment, which only made you cry harder.

You felt her body stiffen again. “No no no, please don’t cry,” she pleaded. Her hand hovered over your head, afraid to touch you now. “I’ll stop talking, I’m sorry, I’m going to shut up. But please don’t cry.”

You clung to her, clutching the back of her dress, wishing that you could… you didn’t really know what. Let her creep inside of you, let her nestle by your heart so the outside world could never hurt her ever again.

When you had calmed down enough to speak, you asked her what Elijah had told her exactly. You wanted to hear every word, so you could erase them from her brain and replace them with words of truth and love.

You had expected her to refuse, to shut down and keep silent. But to your utter surprise, she let out a shaky breath, pressed her cheek against your head, and started to speak.

It was barely a whisper, and at first she paused and hesitated every second or so; but then, words poured out of her, ashamed and painful. You closed your eyes against a fresh wave of tears as you listened.

It didn’t last long. When she was done, her whole body slackened and you tightened your grip on her, afraid she was going to collapse on the floor. She didn’t, though. She nuzzled your hair and sighed.

She hadn’t broken up with you because of you. She had done it for you. Or at least, she had thought so. And it made everything worse, for you had said hurtful things to her. Accused her of things that had never even crossed her mind. Rubbed salt on the wound.

Not your fault, said a voice in your head. You hadn’t known.

After a quiet moment had passed, you took a deep breath and pulled away. Wilhemina let out a faint noise of protest, but you cupped her face and locked eyes with her.

“Have you ever thought that, maybe,” you whispered, offering her a small, teary smile, “I’m the only one who can decide what and who’s enough for me?”

Wilhemina’s eyes widened a bit. You gave her another smile, then let go of her face and looked around the room.

“You said Elijah told you you could never be enough for me and you believed him,” you said, gathering unlit candles in your hands. “I know this kind of thoughts don’t go away easily. I know it takes time and work. But let me show you something.”

You came to a halt in front of Wilhemina and held out the lighter. She glanced at it, then met your eyes, frowning. You leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on her mouth. Wilhemina’s lips parted on a breath as you pulled away.

You smiled. “Let’s pretend these candles are my heart. Shush, let me finish. Sit down. Let me show you how you light up my heart.”

You set the first candle down on the bedside table. “Remember the day we met at the supermarket? I was blocking the aisle with my cart and you snapped at me. Told me my ass was too big for this world.” You chuckled softly at the memory. “My life was so boring before that day. I hadn’t realized it, but it lacked challenges, it lacked passion. It’s like my brain was asleep, and with just a few words, you awoke it.”

You flicked the lighter and lit the candle. The flame flickered, then grew. You glanced at Wilhemina, gave her a smile.

“Remember the first time we made love?” Wilhemina’s eyes were riveted on the burning candle. You bit your lower lip, set a second candle on the chest of drawers. “You were so nervous, and you tried to hide it, but Mina, honestly, I can tell you now, you weren’t very successful. You thought you would hurt me or not know how to pleasure me. Remember how many times you made me come that night? You’re a great lover, Mina. And you sure have talent in these fingers and tongue of yours,” you teased. Wilhemina’s eyes, wide and shining, flicked to you. “But do you know what you’re even better at? The way you take care of me after. The way you cannot seem to be able to stay away, how you always snuggle up to me and hold me and ask me if it was good.” You lit up the second candle.

You took a third one, put it on the floor by the door. “Remember my birthday?” you went on. “I’d spent the last one alone. You brought me breakfast in bed, bought me flowers and a cake.”

“I ruined your birthday cake,” Wilhemina whispered sadly.

You shook your head, flicking the lighter again. “But you bought it. For me. To celebrate me.”

You crossed to the other side of the room, set two candles on the vanity. “I don’t know if you’re even aware you did it, but you’d always fluff my pillow when you’d make our bed in the morning. You’d never fluff yours. Only mine.”

Wilhemina let out a noise halfway between a laugh and a sob.

“It’s only one example of all the things you did that made me feel so loved. Like how you’d always buy pears even though you don’t like the taste of them, just because you knew I do. Or how you read the whole of War and Peace just because I said it’s one of my favorite books. That’s more than a thousand pages, Mina.” Your voice broke as your lips parted on a smile. “You didn’t even think it was that good. But you read the whole thing. Valentine’s Day. You said you hated Valentine’s Day. You bought me flowers and chocolates and tickets for Carmen. Front row center seats, Mina.”

You were crying again by now, but these tears were happy. You set the last candle by the bed. “You made sure I’d survive the Apocalypse. It was you, wasn’t it? I don’t know how you did it, but I’m sure it was you. I used to be mad at you for having saved me but left all my friends and family to die. But you saved me. Gave me another chance at life. Because you still cared about me.”

Wilhemina sniffed, wiped her nose on the back of her hand. You walked around the bed and took her hand.

The whole room was studded with bright, dancing dots of light, as if you had stuck your head into the night sky. Wilhemina’s hand was shaking, but she laced her fingers with yours and gave them a tight squeeze.

“So, you see,” you whispered, “see how bright you make my heart shine.”

A sob pushed out of Wilhemina’s throat. She wrapped her free arm around her waist, hugging herself as she cried. You leaned towards hers, bumping her shoulder with yours. For a while she didn’t move; then she, tentatively, laid her head on your shoulder. And then, as you did not protest, did not push her away, she slipped her arm around your waist and pulled you close.

Her hand cupped your face and her mouth crashed against yours as she sobbed and you sobbed and kissed her fervently back. How you had missed this. How you had missed her. One of your arms wrapped around her shoulders to press her closer still, tongue sliding inside her mouth. You were shaking, entirely too hot and so, so alive.

Something seemed to break loose inside Wilhemina. She let out a noise like a whimper, and suddenly she was crying over and over again “I’m so sorry” and “please” and “don’t go”. You pulled away slightly, cupped her face to make her look at you.

“I’m not leaving,” you whispered. “I forgive you.”

Her shoulders slumped with relief as another sob pushed up her throat. “But what about Mary?” she hiccupped.

You frowned, stroking her cheek. “What about Mary?”

“And what about the two Greys?” she went on, voice growing frantic and breathless. “What about the rules? I’ll hurt you again, I’ll hold you back, I’m too fucked up –“

“None of that,” you shushed her gently.

“But I –“

“No.” A kiss on her mouth, slow and sweet, meant to reassure. You tugged softly at her lip, and she moaned, dug her fingers into your skin. She let out a breath that went all the way down into your lungs, and sank into you.

After a moment, she rested her cheek on your shoulder and opened her eyes to look at all the lighted candles. You held her, stroking the nape of her neck, rubbing circles on her back.

The candles were burning. They lit up the room.

Tag list:  @sapphicsarahpaulson @mssallymckenna @supremeinlilac @pluied-ete @rainbow-hedgehog @pearplate @angelxsarahp @paulawand @asktammyr @peggycarter-steverogers   @coconutlipss ​ @saucy-sapphic​  @thesupremewife @coxmicbabygirl

[doubleleoenergy]

VI. Burning Desire, Lolita Series

I drive fast, wind in my hair, push it to the limits 'cause I just don't care. I've got a burning desire for you, baby.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: bestfriendsdad!Andy Barber x fem!reader

Warnings: dirty texts, teasing, daddy kink, face-fucking, ass-fucking, dirty talk, name-calling (whore, slut), rough fucking. I apologize for the filth.

Words: 2355

Summary: Andy takes the reigns

Y/N had been on cloud nine since their weekend getaway, when her and Andy had become official. Since then y/n had spent many nights sneaking into Andy’s bedroom when Jacob and the other guys were asleep, playing footsie under the dinner table and doing ‘late nights’ at the office when they were actually getting dinner or seeing a movie. It was fun sneaking around, the thrill of getting caught turning y/n on every time they fucked.

It was finally Friday, Jacob and the guys were traveling to New York City for the weekend, leaving y/n and Andy with the house to themselves. Y/N was extra chipper when she got ready for work, wanting to tease Andy until they were finally alone for the evening.

Andy walked out of the bedroom, his cock twitching in his work trousers at the sight of her bent over the stove. Her deep red bodysuit hugged her figure, her breasts overflowing in the thin fabric. His eyes trailed down to her plaid skirt, the hem barely covering her perky ass. Her long legs looked toned and tanned from her days lounging by their pool, her strappy stilettos keeping her height just below Andy’s chin.

“Good Morning, Lolita.” Andy licked his lips as he took his normal seat at the counter, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Good Morning, handsome.” She chirped, turning around to set their plates on the counter. They both sat in silence as they ate, y/n’s stiletto rubbing up and down the side of Andy’s trousers. He was hard as a rock by now, tugging on the crotch of the fabric to acquire some sort of relief.

“You in the mood for a morning fuck?” Andy questioned, watching her hips sway as she cleaned their plates in the sink.

Y/N tilted her head from side to side, pretending to think about his offer. “No, I’m good.” And with that she grabbed her bag and headed for the garage. Andy’s brows furrowed in frustration as he followed her out the door and tried to fill his brain with the most unattractive thoughts in order to calm his cock.

Their day at the office was normal, filled with clients and meetings, y/n teasing Andy relentlessly with her revealing outfit. Andy wasn’t the only one taking note, every man in the office, and even some of the women, were drooling at their desks as y/n handed them copies of work files or brought them their lunch for the afternoon.

The last straw for Andy was watching y/n conversing with Neal at his desk, Neal’s eyes trained on her chest. She knew Neal was interested in her, and she was trying to rile Andy up with the way she was leaning in. She even fake-laughed at his jokes, touching his shoulder lightly as she giggled.

Andy had had enough of the scene in front of him, striding over to Neal’s desk, his eyes filled with rage. “Y/N, you can head home for the day, we’ve got everything covered here.” His tone was firm and final. “I’ll call you an Uber.”

Y/N kept her expression professional, gathering her things and walking past Andy casually, as if they were just coworkers. Once she had gotten in the Uber, her phone buzzed with a text from Andy.

Andy: I’m sorry. You knew what you were doing with Neal though.

Y/N: You sent me home for talking to Neal? I was just being friendly.

Andy: Don’t play dumb, you were trying to rile me up.

Y/N: Did it work?

Andy: You’re on your way home, aren’t you?

Y/N: So, it worked.

Andy: Don’t try to rile me up, I mean it y/n.

Y/N: You haven’t even seen what I can do, Andy.

Y/N arrived at the house fifteen minutes later, bidding the Uber driver a farewell before unlocking the front door and stepping inside. The house was quiet as she set her purse on the counter before climbing up the stairs and grabbing a special ‘prop’ for today. If Andy was going to complain about her riling him up at work, she’d turn the riling up to the extreme.

She tossed the item on the bed, slipping out of her skirt and heels, leaving her in just the tight red bodysuit. She sat back on the bed, holding her phone above her before starting her mission for the afternoon.

Andy sat in the conference room, listening to one of his colleagues’ drone on about one of their clients, his attention faltering as his phone buzzed on the table. Andy left it face down, focusing on his coworker again when he heard his phone buzz again, and again, and again. He seemed to be the only one who noticed, plucking his phone off the table and holding it down in his lap. Four new messages from y/n. He unlocked the screen and immediately regretted the decision, a mix of desire and anger spreading across his features.

The first text was a simple photo of y/n lying on his bed in just her bodysuit, her curves jutting out and leaving nothing to the imagination. His cock twitched as he viewed the next photo, glancing around the room to make sure none of his colleagues were looking in his direction. The next photo was of y/n splayed out on the bed, the bodysuit tossed to the floor, leaving her naked body laying against the plush comforter. The angle she chose for the photo had her ass popping out from behind her, her breasts perked up in view, her thighs open with her pussy on display.

Andy was now painfully erect in his trousers, clearing his throat and locking his phone, putting his files in front of his body to hide his growing erection as he stood. “I’m sorry everyone, I’m not feeling well. I’ll be taking the rest of the afternoon off. Megan, please take all my calls while I’m out. I’ll be back on Monday.” And with that he excused himself out of the conference room, hiding his cock all the way to his Audi, waiting until he was inside to open his phone again.

The last two texts were videos. Andy clicked on the first video, a groan leaving his lips. She was moaning into the phone, fucking her pussy with a light pink dildo, tugging on her nipples. ‘Oh my god, Andy, I’m gonna cum.’ She whined, fucking herself harder as she came undone on the flexible cock.

Andy’s fingers fumbled with his keys, roaring his Audi to life. One hand gripped the steering wheel, the other holding his phone up to re-watch the video. He sped his car along the road, scrolling to the last video and clicking play, his body instantly enraged.

The phone had been propped up against the pillows, y/n’s face against the bed, ass up facing the screen. Her left hand was working the light pink dildo in and out of her pussy, the fingers of her right-hand pumping in and out of her ass. His cock was begging for relief, and he could hear his heart pounding in his ears.

Oh, she was in for it now.

Y/N was lounging in one of Andy’s button-down work shirts, flipping through Netflix trying to decide on what to watch when she heard the garage door open and slam shut, flinching at the sound. Hard footsteps walked down the hallway, stopping at the door of Andy’s bedroom as he pushed it open, taking in the sight of y/n sitting casually in bed. As if she hadn’t teased him endlessly a mere twenty minutes earlier.

“Hey babe, you’re home already. Finished with your meeting earlier than expected?” She asked, clicking absentmindedly on one of the shows that popped up.

“Are you fucking kidding me, y/n?” Andy tossed his jacket to the floor, tugging at his tie until he pulled it free from his neck, his eyes dark as he bore into her own.

“What? You didn’t like my messages?” She teased, her eyes trailing to the large bulge in his trousers.

“Is that what you wanted, y/n? Wanted to embarrass me at work? Acting like a desperate whore with those texts.” He took his time unbuttoning his shirt, dropping it from his shoulders before pulling his belt off, starting to push down the trousers to provide some freedom for his cock.

“So...you didn’t like them?” She asked, cocking her head to the side. Her eyes watched as he peeled off his clothes, standing completely naked in the doorframe, his cock lying flat against his chest.

“Of course, I liked them. But what if I had opened those videos in front of my colleagues? I would’ve been in so much trouble at work, Lolita.” He stepped closer to the bed, grabbing her foot with his hand and tugging her down to the edge. “And for that, you’re going to be punished.”

Y/N’s eyes were wide with a mix of fear and excitement, her pussy clenching around nothing.

“Take off my shirt, y/n. Lay your head off the bed.” He instructed, letting go of her ankle. Y/N sat up, unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it to the floor, turning around and hanging her head off the edge of the bed, her eyes staring up at his fully erect cock.

Andy moved just above her face, his balls resting against her forehead. “You want to act like a slut? You’ll get treated like one.” He tapped the head of his cock against her lips, smearing precum on them. “Open.”

She does as she’s told, opening her mouth wide as Andy pushes his cock inch by inch inside her, feeling his cock pressing against the back of her throat. He pulls out suddenly, one hand gripping at her hair as he plunged back inside, cutting off her airway. Tears sprang to her eyes, choking on his cock as he pulled out again, spit running from her mouth down her face.

“You can take it.” He commanded, snapping his hips back into her. He kept up a brutal rhythm, pumping in and out, spurred on by her sputtering beneath him. Y/N’s pussy was dripping, turned on by his sudden need to control her in the bedroom. He continued to fuck her face before finally pulling out, stepping back to look at her.

Her mascara was smeared along her cheeks from her tears, a mix of spit dripping from her mouth into her hair and onto the floor. She looked absolutely fucked out.

“So pretty, Lolita. You can get up now, hands and knees.” He instructs. The blood rushes back to her head as she moves, struggling to get in position at first but finally settling with her eyes facing the wall in front of her.

His hands roamed up her hips, squeezing and pinching at her breasts before he gripped his cock in his right hand, rubbing it along her wet folds.

“I think I deserve to fuck this tight ass; don’t you think?” Y/N gasped, turning her head back to face him, her eyes wide.

“Andy, you’re too big and I-” He cuts her off as he plunges his cock deep into her pussy, her eyes fluttering closed before he pulls out completely.

“You fucked yourself on your fingers, riling me up on my drive home. I think it’s only fair.” His cock, now covered in her slick, moved to her tight hole, his head pressing up against it. Y/N mewled underneath him, her pussy dripping. “Beg me.”

She whined, resting her face against the bed and looking back at him. “Please, Andy.” His palm gave a quick slap to her ass, jolting her forward.

“You know what to call me.”

Y/N swallowed, her eyes locking on his. “Please, Daddy. Fuck my ass.” Andy growled deep in his chest, wasting no time as he pushed the thick head of his cock past her tight ring of muscles, her cries below him spurring him on.

“Fuck, Lolita. You fucked this hole with your fingers and you’re still so tight. Got a vice grip on my cock.” He keeps pushing inside, her tight walls gripping him harder with each push forward. Andy finally stops moving inside of her, giving y/n time to adjust to the feeling of his cock inside.

He slowly works his cock out so that just the tip is inside her before slamming back in, y/n letting out a high-pitched scream of delight. Andy twirls her hair around his hand, tugging her up so that she’s flush against his chest as he fucks in and out of her.

“Is this what you wanted all along? Wanted me to come home and fuck your tight ass? Maybe next time I’ll make you hold that pink dildo in your pussy, stuff your ass full of my cock and make you cum repeatedly with it inside you.”

Y/N gasped; her body held up by Andy’s grip as he fucked into her ass mercilessly. “Please, Daddy.”

“You like that huh, my little Lolita? If you’re gonna act like a whore you’re gonna get treated like one.” He moves his fingers down to rub her clit, feeling her squirming against him. “Cum, Lolita. Want you to cum while I fuck your ass.” A few more flicks to her clit and she’s coming, tightening her grip on his cock inside of her. 

“Fuck, y/n, gonna fill your ass with my cum. Want it to leak out of you all weekend.” Andy thrusts twice more before he presses deep inside, coating her walls with his thick cum. He pumps his cock inside of her, pushing the cum deep before pulling out, a trail of cum dripping onto the bed.

Y/N flops onto her stomach panting, her hair matted with spit and sweat. Andy moves to lay beside her, tugging her back against his chest, pressing a row of kisses along her shoulder.

“Did so good, Lolita.” He whispered; another kiss placed on her neck.

“I promise not to tease you like that at work.” She mumbled, her eyes closing as she fought to stay awake.

“Next time, take my offer for morning sex.”

Tagging those who may be interested. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list: @my-divine-death​, @blackwiddows​, @sokovianheadtilt, @fuckandfluff, @rattlemyb0nes​, @rootcrop, @turtoix, @sylvielaufeydottirr​, @jeremyrennermakesmesmile, @ccmarvelxx, @rebelemilu​, @tenaciousperfectionunknown​, @serendipityrogers​, @agentofbarnes​

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

By My Side (Part 9)

Summary: The reader and Jensen have a relaxing afternoon where they discuss their future with one another...

Masterlist

Pairing: Bodyguard!Jensen x reader

Word Count: 2,000ish

Warnings: language

A/N: Please enjoy the final part! I had a lot of fun with this series!

_________

One Month Later

“Hey Mikey,” you called from the hammock you were sharing with Jensen in the backyard. He popped his head up from one of the patio loungers, his head deep in a legal brief. “Don’t you have a date tonight?”

“She’s coming over later for the party,” he said, going back to work.

“Did you clear that with head of security?” asked Jensen.

“Head of security can suck my dick,” said Michael as he flipped a page.

“Suck your own. I set you up on this date you know,” you said.

“Ah, this is what I missed,” said your dad as he sat at the table playing a game of chess against Chuck.

“If you can imagine they were worse as teenagers,” said Chuck, moving a piece. “You were planning to have more, weren’t you?”

“We were discussing it. Y/N kept asking for siblings,” he said. “Glad she found some.”

“They never got on very well until recently,” said Chuck.

“Dysfunctional family is kind of our thing,” said Michael, reviewing another paper. Your mom took a sip of her drink, giving Brian a smile. You saw him go to hold her hand under the table but he hesitated, your mom taking his anyways. She rested her feet over Chuck’s lap and you shook your head. 

“They’re so loud,” you mumbled to Jensen. You curled into his chest and he gave your waist a light squeeze.

“They’re alright,” he murmured against your neck. “Wait until you meet my family.”

“God I hope they aren’t crazy like mine,” you said.

“No one’s quite at that level,” he chuckled. “They’re not crazy. Just...odd.”

“Your family or mine?”

“Probably both,” he said. “Want to go for a walk before the party?”

“Sure,” you said. You both rolled out of the hammock and said you’d be back soon, Jensen taking your hand as you walked to the front of the house. A car pulled up at the new gate and you let it in, smiling as you saw Nick and his friend climb out of the car.

“How was the flight?” you asked as he stretched out.

“Good. This is Spencer. Spence, Y/N and her boyfriend bodyguard, Jensen,” said Nick. 

“Nice meeting you guys,” he said. “Nick says you’re why Y/N’s dad is back in the picture?”

“Something like that,” said Jensen. “We’re gonna take a quick walk but feel free to show Spencer around the house or take a dip in the pool.”

“We’ll start cooking in about an hour but snack on whatever you like,” you said. You and Jensen gave them a quick wave before you were walking down the street, Doug whistling from his driveway.

“You two kids staying out of trouble?” he asked.

“Only the bad kind,” said Jensen. “See you and the girls at the party in a bit.”

You hummed as you walked, Jensen squeezing your hand when a car went past.

“Your bodyguard rules are a tad conflicting you know,” you said, smiling at him. “Put you between me and a vehicle but if we’re walking on a city street, put myself closer to the street and you closer to alleyways.”

“Not confusing at all. You stay away from the danger,” he said. “I let you slide on some stuff.”

“I have sex with you, Ackles.”

“I know and I wanna keep doing that so I let you slide,” he teased. He bopped your nose and you laughed, slowing down a bit as you hit the quiet stretch of road with lots of trees around. “I was talking to Chuck earlier. He no longer hates me.”

“See? I told you he’d come around.”

“Strong disdain was now in play,” said Jensen. “I still can’t believe I fucked up like that.”

“Well first off, Chuck doesn’t have the high and mighty card to play. His own sons thought for a split second he was capable. Even mom.”

“How’d the family therapy session go this week?” he asked.

“Okay. The boys all cried. Mom and I aren’t gonna go unless they ask us to anymore. Everyone seems okay,” you said.

“Your dad and Chuck are getting along pretty good now,” he said. 

“I don’t know what those three are going to do, honestly. She loves them both still.”

“Sometimes love isn’t enough,” said Jensen.

“I disagree with that sentiment. Sometimes you have to choose if love is more important than other things, things that might be just as vital as love. But I don’t agree that loving someone alone isn’t enough,” you said.

“Quite a hopeless romantic you are,” he said. He threw his arm over your shoulders and kissed the top of your head. “Anyone in particular you’re loving these days?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you said with a shrug. Your face felt hot, Jensen slowing his walk to almost a crawl. 

“I’m not afraid of you running off on me,” he said. “Not after everything.”

“Good cause you’re important to me,” you said. 

“That what we’re calling it?” he said, your arm sliding around his back, hand settling on his waist. 

“Shut up,” you said, resting your head against his shoulder. You snuggled him for a brief moment before you started walking again, Jensen’s hand grazing your cheek. 

“You’re important to me too,” he said quietly. 

“Okay,” you said. You smiled and you both moved your arms so you could go back to holding hands, Jensen taking his baseball cap off his head and putting it on backwards on your own.

“Can I tell you about what happened to me sometime?” he asked. You turned your head towards him, Jensen shrugging. “You know...the not so great stuff with Hall and all that.”

“Always. I’d never tell a soul,” you said.

“It’s probably not as horrible as whatever you’ve dreamed up in your head,” he said. “But I don’t want you to worry about it anymore. I’m not so scared of you changing your mind about me if you hear it now.”

“I just want to be able to help you the way you’ve helped me,” you said. “That’s what we do.”

“True. I’m still your bodyguard though,” he chuckled.

“Yeah but that’s like an assumed role with you being my boyfriend anyways. I feel like you’ll always be my bodyguard,” you said.

“Always?” he asked. “Always doesn’t sound so bad.”

“You know what I mean,” you said.

“I know,” he said. “A man can dream though.”

“When we met, what was your gut reaction?” 

“Within half an hour of meeting you, I wanted to quit. I knew...I knew there was this something that I don’t know what it was, it just really wanted to know you and make sure you stayed safe. I didn’t think I could do both effectively.”

“So we were both a bit mean to hide things.”

“Well, you are kinda a sassy client. You don’t always listen to me like the time you nearly got a concussion,” he said, bumping your shoulder with a laugh.

“Excuse me but I escaped, not you, and I saved your perky little ass,” you said.

“Oh so you did notice it’s perky,” he said. You rolled your eyes but giggled, Jensen kissing your temple again. “Maybe you can be my bodyguard too.”

“That sounds fun,” you said. “I’m not wearing a suit though.”

“You could just wear what I do.”

“One of your shirts?”

“Yeah, just that’s good,” he said, chuckling as you lightly smacked his chest. “To be honest, I hate the suits. I prefer the laid back look.”

“I prefer anything where I get to see more skin,” you said. “But that does bring up a point I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Yes?”

“If I wanted you to stay on as a bodyguard...for like work and events moreso cause at home I think boyfriend Jensen could handle that job, would you still work for me?” you asked.

“I’d do it for free,” he said. You cocked your head and he shrugged. “I’m serious.”

“Well I’m still gonna pay you. I just wasn’t sure if you wanted something more...exciting,” you said.

“I’m good with quiet. You still have your fair share of crazies out there. Like the stalker guy,” he said, your eyes wide. “I’m joking.”

“Why do I feel like you’re not?” you asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “You’re safe.”

“Never thought I wasn’t,” you said. “Jensen.”

“Yes?”

“Do you want to get away this weekend? Somewhere quiet before I start filming my movie next month?” you asked.

“Yeah. I’d like that,” he said. “After our epic party tonight of course.”

“It’s not gonna be epic,” you said. “It’s like fifty people max.”

“No, it’ll be epic,” he said. “Cause I got you a present you’re gonna love.”

“Tease. What is it?”

“If you must know,” he said as he pulled out his phone. He handed it to you and tapped the screen, scrolling for a minute before he got where he wanted.

“Plane tickets? For tomorrow to the Maldives?” you asked. “How...Jensen you can’t afford this. You have to let me pay for-”

“Oh, honey. I haven’t paid my own rent, utilities, food in a very long time. That plus these hot shot hollywood types and their fancy contracts? I’m better off than you think I am,” he said. “You like, legit saved my life and made me as happy as I’ve ever been and I just want to take my girl on vacation to a place she’s always wanted to go.”

“Fine but only cause I really want to go with you,” you said. 

“I knew I’d win you over,” he said.

“You did that a while ago,” you said, a guy walking past on the other side of the street. Jensen took his phone back and glanced over his shoulder once he was gone. “A pap again?”

“Yup,” he said, sending a text off to Jake. “Oh wait. I forgot to do my favorite part.”

He turned around with you and let out a loud whistle, the guy spinning around.

“You do know last guy we caught in the neighborhood we got arrested, right?” called out Jensen. The man paused but kept staring. “I see one photo or your ass around again, we’re gonna have problems.”

“He’s really a sweetheart!” you said. “Probably want to get out of here before we come back around though. He’s a tad protective.”

The man walked a bit faster, Jensen chuckling as you both watched him slip in a car and head for the entrance out of the neighborhood.

“Ah, I love doing that,” he said. “I am a sweetheart, aren’t I.”

“Yes, yes you are,” you said. He squeezed your hand and you looked around, not spotting anything out of the ordinary. “What?”

“That one’s just for me,” he said. He kissed your lips, pulling back with a big smile. You kissed his cheek, breaking off and kissing his lips, cupping his face. 

“That one’s for me,” you said.

“Better do it again, just in case,” he said.

“Whatever you say, Mr. Bodyguard.”

_______

[peaceoutofthepieces]

Tracing Time

Saturday, 23:39

Song: David Bowie - Starman

Sander’s hands flit over the papers like wasps, mindlessly zipping back and forth in search of a target, lighting here and there for a quick moment before moving on. He leaves behind scraps of pencil or colour or words, molding them into a collage of unrestrained thought even as his mind races and runs back. There’s no room for anything else when his head is filled with art.

It’s only a case of luck that allows him to catch his phone lighting up as he moves away in search of his sketchbook. He halts in place and glances at the screen, lips twitching at the sight of Robbe’s name.

He goes to rub at his eyes and catches himself, eyeing the paint blotches and pencil stains marring his fingers. He uses a clean knuckle for the task, then wipes his hands off on his sweatpants before picking up his phone. There are a slew of messages waiting for him, and his heart gives a sharp, pleasant tug. A few are from his small group chat with his friends from the Academy planning to meet up tomorrow, and there are two from Lucas checking up on him and wishing he was there. Most of them, however, are from Robbe, and this is all Sander pays attention to.

oh god they’re starting to get gross why’d I agree to this 🙃

it’s just making me miss you more, tbh

I’ve finally escaped to bed and now I definitely miss you. how am I gonna sleep without my fave blanket/pillow?! 😪

I’m actually really tired now 🙈

Sanderrrr?

Sander bites down hard on his lip to suppress a smile at the obvious whining, and then realises there’s nobody around to see him and lets his grin out in full force. It’s sappy, his Robbe grin. He’s not embarrassed by it, far from it, but it scares him sometimes. His heart quickens then and he has to take a deep, shaky breath to stop it from overwhelming him, how easy this love comes and threatens to bowl him over. This happiness.

He realises he’s already made Robbe wait long enough for his message and taps out a quick reply.

sorry sorry. caught up with the project. have you been thoroughly traumatised yet?

The texting bubble appears instantly.

hmmm I think I’ve gotten off lucky tbh, so I’m not going to complain 😬

you abandoned them a while ago though?

tired. not as used to the train ride as Jens

why aren’t you sleeping then?

couldn’t without saying goodnight 🙈

There. Sander’s heart does the thing, that rapid stutter, as his lips spread into a smile so wide his cheeks hurt. Every time he thinks he couldn’t get any more fond, Robbe surprises him. He brings the phone closer to his face as he bites at his lip, as if that will make Robbe feel nearer.

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you wait up

I’ll always wait for you

The message comes so quickly Sander knows his boyfriend doesn’t even take time to think about it. It’s just a casual, natural response; even though Robbe likely does have that cheesy, cheeky grin on his face as he waits for Sander to reply. He knows exactly what he’s doing and he has no idea. He doesn’t know how easy it is, how totally he has Sander wrapped around his finger. In fairness, Sander would have no idea how to express it to him. He glances at his project and corrects himself—he can’t express it outside of his art. At least, not fully. Not as easily.

I thought I was the one with the one-liners here

mmm I guess you’re a good teacher

I’m not sure you ever needed me to teach you that, Robin

you’ve always been a sap at heart 😘

hey!! and I thought I was getting a compliment there 😪

it is a compliment

from me, it always is

There’s a short pause, as if Robbe doesn’t know what to say or has fallen asleep. Sander drops onto the edge of his bed while he waits, holding the phone near his lap. The typing bubble isn’t reappearing, and he feels disheartened for a brief moment, and then another message appears. This time it’s a square, and Sander perks up as he watches the photo load, and then Robbe’s looking back at him. He does indeed look tired. He’s covering his face with his hand, but peeking through his fingers so Sander can see one sleepy eye, as well as half of his smile. His cheeks are a faint shade of red, and his shoulders are tucked up close, covered by one of his green t-shirts.

Sander falls back onto his bed at the sight of it, heart fluttering in adoration. It’s nothing new, and it’s nothing provocative, so maybe it shouldn’t be getting Sander’s heart racing as much as it is. But it is downright adorable—Robbe is—and it makes Sander miss him so fiercely, so suddenly, that he aches. It shouldn’t be so. He’d just seen him this morning. He sees him so often. How is it that he still manages to miss him all the time?

Robbe sends him another message.

you’re not even here and still

Sander grins.

still I can confirm you’re the most beautiful person in the universe

just this one?

every Robbe in every universe is the most beautiful person there

and every Sander better tell him so

🙄🙈 shut up and go to sleep

I can’t, still have work to do

Another pause, and then the typing bubble only appears for a short moment.

not too long, okay?

Of course. He doesn’t know what else he was expecting. He smiles again despite himself.

promise ❤️

goodnight Sander ❤️

night, Robin

sweet dreams

He keeps the chat open for another moment, just to make sure nothing else is going to come in, and then lets his phone drop to his chest. He pushes a hand through his hair and just breathes for a moment. Then he picks his phone up and looks at the photo again, smiling softly in the face of all of Robbe’s softness. He looks adorably sleepy, and Sander wants to join him more than anything, curl around his pillow and pretend it’s a familiar body and drift off into dreamland himself. Instead, he sets his phone aside and gets up. Rather than collecting his sketchbook or returning to his desk, he slips out of his room and creeps up the hallway.

He quietly flicks on the light in the kitchen and goes about getting himself a glass of water, then he digs about in the press for a chocolate bar as well. He doesn’t sit with them, but leans against the counter and nibbles and sips, hoping the little burst of sugar will spur him on.

At some stage, he zones out, and doesn’t notice his mother walking into the room until she speaks.

“I thought you’d already gone to bed.”

Léa Driesen tucks her robe tighter around herself and comes to stand across from her son, leaning against the table. She keeps her arms crossed over her chest but smiles softly at him, giving him a quick once over and shaking her head at his stained clothes. It’s a familiar, fond gesture. Sander feels warm rather than embarrassed in the face of it. He holds the remaining half of his bar out in offering. She shakes her head slightly. “No thanks, darling.”

“Everything okay?” Sander asks her. “Sorry, I was trying to be quiet.”

“No, you were,” she waves him off. “I was still awake, heard you out in the hall. You’re not still working, are you?”

Sander blushes, looking down at his water, and hears her sigh. “I just have a little left to do,” he protests.

“So you can sleep and finish it tomorrow.”

“It won’t take long. And I can just sleep longer then. But if I don’t finish it, and have to go to sleep knowing I don’t have it finished, then I’ll be stressed and won’t be able to sleep anyway. So really, it works better this way.”

She stares him down, eyes narrowed and unimpressed. There’s still a slight upwards curl to her lips. “And Robbe comes home tomorrow.”

Sander takes a sip of his water.

Léa shakes her head, huffing quietly. “He won’t be back ‘til late afternoon,” she reminds him. “You would still have it done before he gets back.”

“I definitely will if I just finish it now. Besides, Emilie wants me to join her and the others for a while first.”

“You’ll be falling asleep on the poor kids.”

“I will if you keep me up,” Sander says, pressing a kiss to her cheek as he moves past her.

She hums and calls over her shoulder after him. “You’re a mess. Not too late, okay?”

Sander huffs in amusement, shaking his head as he pauses to go to the bathroom on his way back to his room. He’s only a bit tired, and he feels a little brighter after splashing water on his face. He’s shaking his hands out over the sink when he catches sight of his reflection and gets caught up.

He’s still not quite used to his hair.

It’s strange, because it’s the hair he’s had for most of his life. But he’d gotten used to the bleach. Now, it’s still short from where he’d finally cut the dye out, and it still takes him by surprise. He supposes it’ll take more than a month or so to get used to again. It makes him look younger, he thinks, his natural colour, like he did when—

Well, it doesn’t matter. The bleach didn’t work to hide anything, either. It didn’t make a difference, after that time.

He goes to run a hand through his hair and pauses when he remembers they’re still wet. He settles for staring for another moment instead, and then he finally drags himself away, drying his hands and face and closing himself up in his room.

His project is still laid out, almost done. He casts his eyes over it, the scraps of sketch and photograph and poetry all melded together, examines every detail before nodding to himself. Then he fetches his sketchbook as he’d meant to a half-hour before and drops back into his desk chair.

~^~

previous/next

[amberofembers]

International Herzog Week

A/N: hello! i hope you enjoy this dumb little fic about andrew and his herzog nonsense. 2.6k of fluff, if you’re into that :)

ao3

—

It was the third week of lockdown, or maybe even the fourth – it was hard to keep track of anything related to time nowadays. The days were becoming less discernible and everything seemed to still. The birds still chirped at daybreak but there was a certain quiet that filled the air.

It wasn't all that different from the previous few months and by this time, you had fallen into a comfortable routine at home. The gradual crescendo of your alarm pulled you from the depths of sleep. Unlike most mornings, the sound wasn't jarring but felt more like a gentle tap on the shoulder signaling the start of the day. As you stretched your legs, the duvet crinkled along with your movement and a quiet grumble was heard on your left. Blinking in the sunlight, you turned to face Andrew, whose brows were set in a slight frown as he stirred awake.

"Morning, you," you said softly, your voice raspy from sleep.

No reply was heard from him, but the corners of his mouth turned up slightly as he placed his hand over yours underneath the duvet.

You had gone to bed without him last night, knowing his tendencies to stay up late. He had no fixed schedule to follow and, unsurprisingly, his sleep schedule was completely messed up. Seeing him awake before lunch would be a rare occurrence.

"What time did you go to bed last night?" you asked as you peeled yourself away from the warmth that you both had created under the duvet.

"Four"

"Oh god, your lifespan is steadily decreasing," you chuckled as you draped your legs over the side of the bed.

You padded over to his side of the bed, giving him a peck on the forehead. “You can go back to sleep, I gotta start work soon,” you said gently. He reached out to grasp the hand that hung loosely by your side and his eyes opened to a sliver, just enough to catch a glimpse of your face.

"Morning, love," he said, voice only slightly above a whisper.

"Yeah, morning," you let out a quiet laugh, "go back to sleep,"

“Stay here,” he whined, tugging your hand.

“You know I’d love to,” you huffed, “you’re just rubbing it in now”

You shook his hand off yours in mock anger, letting his hand fall from your grip down to the side of the bed. “Babe…” he pouted. You picked his hand up, giving it a soft kiss before placing it on his chest, “Work awaits, my love.”

As you headed towards the bathroom to freshen up for the day, you peered back into the bedroom. Andrew had rolled himself up in the duvet on your side of the bed, his feet sticking out slightly. Your heart skipped a beat upon seeing his hair messily splayed over his face and the pillow - How lucky you were to be waking up to this every morning.

—

You chose to set up your workstation on the large wooden table in the dining room. There was a study in the house, but the gentle morning light that entered through the big glass windows of the dining room gave it a warmth that was irresistible. Preoccupied with replying and sending out emails and with a few zoom meetings here and there, the morning passed quickly. The initially steaming mug of coffee you placed beside your laptop had gone cold, you realized as you absentmindedly took a sip from it.

“Morning... again” You heard Andrew call out.

You looked up from your laptop, then back at the time displayed at the corner of the screen – 1pm. “Good afternoon to you too,” you said, shaking your head.

His hair was tied loosely in a bun and his glasses were set slightly crooked on his face. He wore a grey sweater that barely covered his torso and a sleepy smile.

“Time doesn't mean anything anymore,” He yawned as he strolled over to where you sat, threading his hand through your hair. You paused your typing, glancing up at him smiling, “imagine if my camera was on.”

His eyes widened comically as he jerked out of frame, “Jesus, that would be awkward,”

You chuckled under your breath, gesturing towards the kitchen “There are some blueberries left, can you finish them before they go bad?”

He nodded in accordance and headed to the kitchen to fix up some food. With the weather deep in autumnal bliss, it was probably going to be another round of oatmeal.

Some clinking of spoons on bowls and kettle boiling sounds later, Andrew emerged from the kitchen, a bowl of oatmeal held in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

He placed them carefully on the table, plopping down opposite you. You reached over the table to pull the saucer below his cup over, taking a sip of the warm coffee. The bitter liquid felt rough on your tongue as it flowed down the back of your throat. Your nose scrunched up involuntarily.

“That’s what you get for stealing my coffee,” Andrew teased.

“I’ll never understand the voluntary torture of black coffee,” you grumbled, “at least it was warm.”

Andrew pulled the saucer back to his side of the table. A comfortable silence blanketed the dining room. The clicking of your keyboard and the sounds of his spoon hitting the bowl padded the silence while the muted rustling of dried leaves could be heard through the windows.

“Is there such thing as insanity among penguins…” A voice broke the silence.

You sat upright with confusion, looking over your computer screen at Andrew. He was staring intently at his phone, his brows furrowed with concentration.

The voice that came from his phone went on about insane penguins and something about their certain death. As you listened, you stifled in some laughter. What was this video about? Andrew, on the other hand, seemed a little too invested. You watched in amusement as he replayed certain parts of the video.

“Bit morbid for a Monday morning,” you pointed out.

“It’s Herzog,” he said conclusively as he looked up from his phone

“Her who?”

“Herzog, he’s a German filmmaker.”

“Ah…” you nodded. You still had no idea who Herzog was.

“Look,” he thrusted his phone in your direction, leaving you to look at a lone penguin waddling away into the mountains.

“And here, he is heading off into the interior of the vast continent. With 5000 kilometers ahead of him, he’s heading towards certain death,” the narrator of the video concluded.

“Poor guy,” you said as you looked up at Andrew bemusedly.

“Poor lad indeed.” He sighed.

“Why are you watching a video about deranged penguins?” You chuckled.

“I dunno,” he shrugged, “It popped up on youtube.”

“So this is why you sleep at 4 in the morning, huh…”

“No! I was watching American news and ehm… ” He trailed off, his eyes looking upwards in search for words , “...Working.”

“He was a good looking man, that Herzog,” He said as he turned his phone to you, showing you an old black and white photo of a mustached man. You gave him a murmur of assent.

“Thot… Hah!” he huffed a laugh. You stared at him quizzically.

He tried to stamp down his laugh, considering the calm of the afternoon but he was too pleased with his joke. “That… Herzog…. Over…” He struggled out between fits of laughter, “...There”

“Fuck, that was bad,” You offered him smile, “commendable attempt, though”

“No?” He tilted his head forward, looking the slightest bit affronted, “It’s so bad that it’s good, though...”

You shook your head. Andrew frequently made jokes that were questionable at best, and you’d give him shit for it usually, but the smile that was plastered across his face as he thought about his dumb joke was so endlessly warm that any snide remark you had disappeared immediately. His smile had a warmth that filled the room, one that danced over your skin and surrounded you in a tight embrace. You looked at him fondly as he struggled to maintain his composure.

“Oh my god, should I post it?” He said, his voice dripping in childlike glee.  

“No!” you exclaimed, “I swear to god, don't do it Andrew”

He raised an eyebrow almost like he was challenging you. “I’m gonna post it”, he grinned. He tapped away on his phone, smiling to himself.

—

Andrew had finished his breakfast - or lunch - and went to the kitchen to wash the dishes. He’d taken your empty cup as well, a sweet gesture you took a mental note of - remember to do something nice for Andrew sometime today.

As he left the table, you took the chance to check your phone. Scrolling through Instagram, you saw that he had posted a story.

“Jesus christ, Andrew...” you mumbled to yourself, maybe slightly too loudly because you heard him call out from the kitchen.

“It’s good, isn't it?”

“You posted the THOT thing and 20 million videos about the penguins?”

“Yeah, it’s so cool!” He protested, popping his head out of the kitchen door, “and the joy of discovering insane penguins deserves to be shared!”

“Mmm… Morning affirmations with Herzog,” you said, fluttering your fingers.

His eyes widened in revelation, “That’s fucking gold. Hold on, I’ve gotta post that too.” He grabbed the hand towel as he dried his hands briskly.

“Oh no, what have I done...”

“You being a genius is what you’ve done” he looked at you endearingly as he snatched up his phone from the table, “Can I steal the morning affirmations line?”

“Go ahead,” you said, “it’s not that funny though.”

“It’s brilliant,” he beamed, bending down to place a quick kiss on the top of your head. “Think I’m gonna be in the studio today, good luck with work, yeah?”

—

As the day went on, you busied yourself with more work. You would be lying if you said that you stopped to stretch periodically. It was more like forgetting that your body existed for an entire hour while typing in a hunched position until realizing that, wow, your neck ached. You looked at the time - 5pm. As you rubbed your smarting eyes, you decided it was time for a break.

You noticed that Andrew hadn't emerged from the studio yet. He could spend hours on end in that room, either working on lyrics or fiddling with his guitars or humming along to the piano. The studio was one of your favorite places in the house, because it felt so much like him. Notebooks scribbled with odds and ends of ideas strewn on the floor, the thermostat always set a bit warmer than the rest of the house, the sound of music and occasionally his voice filling the room as he tinkered around with ideas.

From time to time, the room would be livelier with musician friends coming over to work on material. You'd stay out of the studio when it got too crowded. Lately, since it’s been just the two of you, the studio started to feel like the most intimate place in the house.

Remember to do something nice for Andrew sometime today, the thought popped back into your mind.

Doting on each other wasn't a typical thing you two would do, it was more small gestures that showed you cared about each other. Those tiny gestures of affection were usually pleasant surprises and received with much tenderness. On one particularly bad work day, you remember how he wrote you a sweet letter and hid it underneath your pillow for you to find it the next morning. When you found the letter and thanked him for it, he blushed a deep red and hid his face behind a curtain of his hair, smiling sheepishly. Thank god, I thought you were going to find that too cheesy, you remember him saying.

Since today was a studio day, you figured he could do with a warm cup of tea. Pulling the sleeves of your sweater down to your palm, you gave your limbs a much-needed stretch and shuffled to the kitchen to make some tea for the both of you.

Precariously balancing two steaming mugs in both your hands, you carefully walked to the studio, trying not to scald yourself with hot tea.

The door to the studio was ajar and through the gap you could hear the faint strumming of a guitar float through the hallway leading to it.

“Can I come in?”

The guitar strums stopped as Andrew chirped, “Yeah, come in! I missed you.”

“I’m only 3 doors down, love,” you said as you pushed the door open with your foot.

“Yeah, but it’s too cold…” His eyes travelled to where you stood in the doorway.

“Tea?” The excitement was apparent in his voice.

You handed one mug to him, nodding, “careful, it’s hot.”

You headed to the small couch tucked into the corner of the studio and set your mug on the table next to it. A wool blanket was draped haphazardly over the couch so you balled it up, using it as a pillow of sorts. He placed his guitar on a rack nearby and stalked over to where you sat, tea mug held tightly in his hands. You shuffled to one side of the couch to give him some space but it still seemed like the couch was far too small for the both of you.

As he sat down, he leaned over and gave your shoulder a gentle kiss, muttering quietly into your hair, “Thank you for the tea, love. Sorry I didn't come out much, I’ve just been trying to hammer out this idea that’s been swimming in my head for far too long.”

“It’s okay,” you said reassuringly. Your hand reached out to his face that was placed near your shoulder, stroking his jaw with slow, hypnotic movements. He hummed softly, leaning into your touch.

“What was the idea about?”

“Herzog,” he stated plainly.

“I hate you, Andrew, I really do,” you said incredulously.

“You don't,” he grinned, “but anyway, it was just a riff that begged to be completed. I don't have lyrics yet.”

“About the Herzog thing, though…” He began, “People aren't getting it.” He seemed equal parts disappointed and humored.

“Of course they aren't!” You let out an amused laugh, “I think you should clear it up. Instagram really isn't fit for weird shit, maybe keep that to twitter.”

“I’m off twitter, though.”

“Suck it up, big man,” you teased.

“Okay fine, I’ll tweet about it,” he sulked, reluctantly unlocking his phone, “What do I even say?”

“Happy international Herzog week, folks!” you joked.

“You are too good at this,” he turned his head to stare at you in awe.

“My god, please don't tell me you're using that too…” He stayed silent, reacting only with a sly smile.

“You’ll have to start crediting me for all those punchlines...” you hesitated, “actually, no, don't. They're not that good, it’s better if people think it’s you.”

He chuckled and gave your side a small shove, “I think it’s hilarious.”

“Can you italicize stuff on twitter?” He asked.

“No… Oh wow you’re going all out, huh?”

“Only the best for your joke,” he said, giving you a playful wink.

You pulled yourself closer to him and draped your legs over his, his sweatpants folding underneath yours. The warmth of your bodies meeting gave you an immeasurable sense of comfort and security. One of his hands rested on your thigh while the other was used to type his very complex tweet. As his eyes stayed fixed on his phone, his index finger absentmindedly drew circles on the fabric of your sweatpants. Melting into his gentle touch, you closed your eyes, making a mental note to maybe move your workstation to the studio instead.

[lahyene]

Gucci Guilty.

Pairing: chris evans x model!reader

Summary: A steamy photoshoot with Chris Evans turns into something even steamier in his car.

Themes: smut, car sex

Word count: 2237

The corner of your lips tug upward as you gaze seductively towards the camera, head tilted to one side and eyes filled with lust and sensuality as you pose with Chris’ large hands holding your breasts, nothing in between but pasties covering your nipples. You had been told the Gucci Guilty shoot was going to be a steamy one, and while such shoots usually felt awkward and forced, you’re surprised at how oddly comfortable this feels. Perhaps it’s because you’ve worked with Chris before and therefore feel a little more at ease; he’s charming, funny, and down-to-earth, and besides, you’re used to revealing shoots due to your job as a lingerie model.

“Alright, let’s get some shots lying down. Chris, guide her down, yeah?” the photographer calls, and Chris nods, scoffing playfully. “Uh, my pleasure.” You laugh and move yourself down with him, lying carefully on your side- you’re only wearing nude colored panties while he’s simply in briefs, though right now the camera is only focusing on your upper halves anyways. 

“Put your arm around her, cover her breasts.” The photographer directs, and Chris does as told- his head is near your neck, his warm breath upon your skin making you shiver slightly. It’s generally difficult to even feel aroused during these shoots considering models must be entirely focused on posing and trying not to look awkward, but you swear the two of you have a chemistry that makes this so much more natural. Therefore, his muscular arm around your smaller frame is only turning you on even more. You have to wonder if he feels the same way, or if he’s simply treating this like another job.

However, when you feel a rather large bulge pressing against your ass from behind, your eyes widen despite being in front of the camera-- thankfully, the crew is still setting up lighting and camera positioning for these new sets of photos. “Jesus, Chris,” you can’t help but tease in a soft whisper, teeth slowly pulling at your lower lip flirtatiously. “Didn’t realize you were bringing a friend to this shoot…” 

He blinks but starts to laugh lowly, looking down at you somewhat sheepishly. “Hey, c’mon now, can ya blame me? I’ve basically been feeling up a gorgeous naked girl all afternoon, I can’t help myself…”

His low voice right by your ear is only doing more to get you excited; you can’t help but continue flirting. “Yeah? So you’re liking what you’re feeling?” you tease, and he barely smirks, leaning down even more to whisper discreetly in your ear, “Oh, hell yeah. I thought I was really only an ass man, but you’re making me wonder if I haven’t been appreciating… other parts as much.” He subtly squeezes your breasts even harder with his arm that’s currently shielding them from the camera and you let out a little gasp, cheeks flushing slightly. Still, you’re not going to let him be the only one teasing here. 

“Are you saying you don’t appreciate my ass?” you playfully retort in a soft murmur, just barely shifting your body so that your butt is more pressed up against his crotch. You can practically feel his breath hitch due to his chest being right up against your back, his jawline clenching tightly. 

“Fuck.” He mutters with a slight laugh, playfully growling in frustration. “Please don’t do this to me right now, Y/N, you’re killing me.”

“Alright, ready!” the photographer calls obliviously once everything’s set up, and so it looks like Chris is getting his wish-- for now, anyways. “Chris, lean down into her neck. Maybe kiss it a little, and her shoulder too. Y/N, you look towards the camera, but hold one side of his face.” The two of you gladly follow the instructions, your heart racing faster as you feel Chris’ soft, plush lips press against your bare skin. 

“I think I’m gonna go crazy,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck, barely audible so that no one hears him. All you can do is continue looking at the camera with a modelesque gaze, though you barely hum in response.

“Okay, how about a kiss?” one of the directors suggests, and Chris shamelessly grins. “If you insist,” he replies, making some of the crew laugh. You giggle a little bit yourself, looking up to him in amusement. 

“You sure you can handle it, big boy?” you tease softly, wiggling your butt against his crotch ever-so-slightly-- he inhales sharply once again, staring down at you with amusement and frustration at the same time. 

“Just you wait until after we’re done here,” he murmurs as he leans in, giving you a slightly devious smirk, “because I’m going to get you back, sweetheart.” With that, he gives you a gentle kiss, slowly increasing in lust and passion. The cameras are getting closer and you have to make sure you’re tilting your head in all the right ways for the perfect picture, yet you still feel how amazing his lips are on yours, even teasing a little by slowly pulling at his lower lip with your teeth. It’s tempting to simply start making out with him right then and there, but considering all the noise around you from the crew, it’s at least easier to not get distracted.

“Alright, I think we’ve got it!” the photographer announces, and Chris pulls back, looking down into your eyes with complete hunger and desire in his own. “I need you.” He mutters bluntly, and you feel even hotter than before. You hurriedly stand up and take the thin robe being handed to you from a crew member, giving him a smile in thanks as you put it on and wrap it around yourself. He stands up as well but hovers close; you can tell he doesn’t care about subtlety anymore. He’s practically carnal.

“Where’s your car?” you mumble quietly, and a devious grin spreads across his lips.

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

You can’t believe you’re currently straddling Chris in the driver’s seat of his car, making out in an isolated corner of the parking lot where he had moved the car solely for this. Your clothes had been long gone, tossed carelessly to the backseat along with his own, leaving both of you in just your underwear. You had taken off the pasties right after the shoot and he’s currently taking advantage of this, squeezing your breasts and teasingly pinching your nipples as his tongue wrestles your own. “Mm… mm, God, Y/N, you really know how to drive a guy fuckin’ crazy,” he mutters in a husky Boston accent, making you shudder simply from hearing how sexy his voice is. 

“Mm… who, me?” you breathe out playfully innocent between kisses, your hands currently rubbing his toned abs firmly and making him growl slightly in satisfaction.

“Fuckin’ tease.” He scoffs with a smirk, trailing his fingers up your thighs to rub against your underwear. “Shit, when I heard I had this photoshoot with you, do you know how fucking excited I was?” 

You whimper happily though look at him somewhat surprised, biting your lip. “Really? You were?”

“Uh, yeah. You’re one of the sexiest models I know. I was thrilled hearing I got to basically do a nude and risqué photoshoot with you, I was ready to kiss my fuckin’ manager because I was so thankful.” He moves your panties aside, breathing heavier as he stares down at your soaked entrance. “Fuck. So wet for me, huh baby? Does that mean you were excited too?” 

You blush but roll your hips desperately, signaling to him that you want more. “Well yeah, I mean, look at you.” You murmur, breathless from anticipation. “You’re hot, funny, talented… I was definitely not complaining about you holding me while naked.” 

He grins as he starts teasing your folds with broad fingers, watching your reaction intently. “That’s good to know, baby, because I’m about to be doing a lot of other things to you naked…”

You moan as he pushes a finger inside you, pumping you with a smirk across his lips. “How’s that feel, beautiful? Gotta get you ready for the real thing after all…” he murmurs huskily, eyes locked on yours as he increases his pace. You whine happily, arching your back and moving your hands to grip his muscular biceps tightly, fingers pressing into his Taurus sign tattoo. 

“So… good… m-more, Chris,” you beg; he doesn’t need to be told twice as he inserts another finger, staring at you in awe and arousal. 

“God, you look so fuckin’ sexy right now, sweetheart.” He coos, loving how he can make such beautiful expressions travel across your rosy face. “I can’t wait to see you come for me.” He pumps harder, expertly crooking his fingers and making a “come here” gesture in order to hit your sweet spot, something you’re almost suspicious of that he achieves so quickly. 

“Fuck…! Chris, o-oh my God! Right there!” you cry out in pleasure, your head tilting back as you close your eyes. “That feels so good…!!”

He keeps pumping roughly in the same spot until you release, your breaths heavy and your eyes wide as you watch him withdraw his fingers only to stick them in his mouth to suck on them. “Perfect.” He growls, licking his lips with a satisfied smirk. “I could taste ya all day, baby, but there’s something else I need right fucking now.” He takes your hand and guides it to his bulge, rubbing and groaning to himself. “Go ahead and take it out sweetheart, I want to see your pretty little hands holding it…”

You gladly oblige, slipping your fingers into the waistband of his briefs to slide them down slightly. Your eyes widen even more upon seeing his thick and lengthy erection, your mouth dropping open. “That’s… that’s definitely not going to fit…” you mumble, even somewhat nervous, but he chuckles and leans down to kiss you naturally rough. 

“It’ll definitely be tight, baby girl, but it’ll fit. I’m going to make you feel so good… mmm… I want to see you ride me though, sexy.” You kiss him back, unable to help but feel turned on by his demands, having to admit yourself that just the thought of riding his large cock is definitely appealing even if you are a little scared.

You position yourself, lifting up your hips and holding onto his shoulders, slowly allowing yourself to sink down onto his tip. Your breath hitches as he enters your wet core, your face already distorting slightly as you whimper and adjust to his thickness. “Holy… shit…” you breathe out, moving down just a little more. “Mm… Chris, you’re so fucking big…” you whine, and he groans just hearing you, gripping your hips tight. 

“And you’re so goddamn tight. C’mon babe, keep going- I want you to feel all of me,” he coos lowly into your ear, leaning in to suck on your neck tenderly. You’re already panting slightly as you carefully let more and more of him in, wincing slightly at the feeling of his cock stretching you out though loving it at the same time.

It’s not long before you’re really beginning to ride him, your body rocking up and down and his hands moving to grab and squeeze your bouncing breasts. “Fuck babe, that’s good! God you look so fuckin’ hot right now,” he praises through guttural groans and grunts, his head tilting back slightly showing more of his beautifully bearded jawline. You moan just from watching him, more and more turned on by the second- how can someone be so damn perfect?

You keep riding him faster, hips rocking hard- his hands are even assisting in moving you because of his excitement and desperation. He’s leaving marks on your neck with his love bites, his fingers gripping your hip bones tightly and occasionally moving behind to your ass to grope aggressively, his groans signifying that he likes what he feels. “Mm, baby, I want you to come all over my fucking cock, you got that?” he growls demandingly, and you immediately nod your head, whimpering in pleasure as you grip his muscle even harder. “Yes sir!”

You finally release, your chest heaving as you begin to slow down. “Shit. I’m going to come.” He squeezes your thigh and you move yourself off of him breathlessly, watching as he shoots his load upwards as streaks of white land upon your torso and breasts. You nibble on your lip seductively, swirling your fingers in it and lifting them to your lips, wrapping your tongue around your digits as you make eye contact with him. He’s staring at you in awe, smirking pleased as he breathes heavily. “God damn, sweetheart. You are so much sexier than I could have ever even imagined, and that’s saying a lot because I thought you were pretty damn sexy to begin with.” You giggle softly as he leans in and kisses you, immediately throwing your arms around his neck to kiss him back.

When he pulls back, he presses his forehead to yours and looks into your eyes, a more fond smile crossing his lips. “You are the most amazing woman I have ever met. Please tell me we can keep seeing each other after this, whether we work together or not.” He practically begs in a low voice, and you immediately smile, pecking his lips softly.

“Of course, Chris. I’d love nothing more.

[abarbaricyalp]

Hand holding 37

37) not realizing they’re holding hands till someone points it out

I assumed SamBucky. If not, just let me know!

Reblogging with the AO3 link ASAP so hopefully it'll stay in the tag this time.

i wanna hold your hand

Bucky had been in Delacroix for six months when the invitation rolled in. He flipped the heavy, glossy card over in his fingers, stacked the multiple envelopes and smaller cards and pieces of tissue paper together, and then looked at the fancy golden script again.

Albert James Wilson and Stephanie Marie Pujols cordially invite Captain Samuel Thomas Wilson to celebrate their wedding with them on the Third of August Two-Thousand-and-Twenty-Five.

There was more text--RSVP instructions, food preferences, a location--but Bucky’s eyes kept drifting to the scrawled message at the bottom of the invitation next to a quickly drawn shield.

Please bring Sergeant Barnes as your plus one -❤️ Stephanie-

He just about flung the invitation across the kitchen when he heard the door open. “Will you go get the rest of the groceries out of the truck? It’s about to open up and I don’t want to be dragging shit through the rain,” Sam said as he stumbled through the entryway to the kitchen. “Oh, you saw the card, great. You can remember what day it is. They sent a Save-the-Date ages ago but I totally forgot about it.”

Bucky felt a little hollow in the chest as he listened to Sam carry on like it was nothing that someone Bucky didn’t even know asked for him by name. Asked Sam for him. “Uh, who's Albert?” he finally managed to get out through the heavy lump in his throat.

“He’s one of my cousins. One of the babies. I think he’s, like, twenty-six or something? Maybe a little older. Him and Steph have been dating for ages but they took everything really slow. She went to grad school and they always said they weren’t getting married until they were totally graduated and had jobs. And then, you know, the Blip and all.”

Sam set the bags of groceries down on the oven and started to stack cans below the cupboards they went in, fruits by the baskets on the breakfast bar, drinks on the other side of the fridge.

“Right,” Bucky said and tapped the invitation against his metal hand. “Do you think it’s really a good idea for me to go?”

Sam shot him an unamused look. “Listen, you don’t get to invite yourself to the fun parties on the water and then decide that you don’t want to sit through a long ass wedding. Besides, you’ll like the reception. Lots of dancing.”

“Sure, it’s just… I mean, they don’t know me. This is a serious moment and they’re just asking for a stranger to come sit in the audience and watch them...fucking become one under the eyes of God.”

“You’re so Catholic,” Sam snorted and rolled his eyes. “You’re coming with me. I’ll be bored out of my mind if you don’t. Besides, if you don’t go, who’s gonna be the ugly, old one?”

“I hate you,” Bucky sighed.

“I know. Now go get the groceries before the bread gets soaked.”

Bucky had been promised dancing and food. But, while most of the church had cleared out for a local dancehall for the reception, Bucky found himself standing awkwardly by the altar while approximately four million pictures were snapped of the wedding party. Sam, leaning against a beautiful statue that he probably shouldn’t have been leaning against next to Bucky, was the only thing keeping Bucky from royally losing his entire mind.

He hadn’t been in a church basically since DC all those years ago. Who knew about before then. Occasionally, when he’d been on the run, he’d crept into an empty rectory to snag a few minutes of quiet where he could rest his eyes without feeling like someone was staring at him, waiting for a moment of weakness on his part. And, sure, growing up Catholic had put this indelible mark on his soul that reacted to any church, empty or not. A deep longing and belonging that he’d never been able to fully grapple with.

But empty churches where he just wanted to sleep were not the same level of overwhelming that a church in the midst of celebration was. Now, all that longing and belonging was spilling over his ribs and soaking into the rest of his body, alive and hot and so tangible he felt like he could almost reach inside himself and touch it.

He missed this.

He missed the happiness and the family and the love that he could find in the walls of a church, in the midst of a celebration. He missed being able to feel something bigger than himself.

The bride and groom hadn’t stopped smiling and laughing all afternoon, always good sports about redoing a photo or trying a new pose or bringing new people into the same picture they’d taken a thousand times already. They couldn’t take their eyes off of each other, couldn’t let go of hands or waists or cheeks.

God, Bucky missed it.

“Okay, how about something with all of the couples?” the photographer asked. “Mom, dad, get on in there. Any bridesmaids and groomsmen paired up? Alright, you go there. Sirs? Sirs?”

“Yo, Sam!” Albert called out and Bucky looked up sharply from the jostling of people in love with each other and the moment.

“I’m not here with anyone,” Sam called back.

“You’re holding your date’s hand?” the photographer said, clearly unsure of what was before her own eyes now.

Sam and Bucky both looked down at their interlocked fingers, hands pressed between their thighs, and then jumped apart with muttered apologies.

“Uh. We’re not. We’re not.” What a stupid thing to have to say after everyone had just seen them. “We’re not together,” Bucky finally got out.

Stephanie frowned deeply for the first time all afternoon, a scheming furrow appearing between her eyebrows.

“Alright… Well then, is that everyone? Okay, cheese it up hard…”

The pictures continued.

“Sorry again,” Bucky said a while later while he and Sam stood shoulder to shoulder in the church’s small bathroom, both looking at their own reflections while they washed their hands.

“Nah, it’s fine. I probably just kept shifting closer to you,” Sam said and there was a strain in his voice that Bucky couldn’t quite place. He didn’t think he’d heard it before. Not on Sam.

“Sometimes I kind of tune out what that arm’s feeling,” he said. “There’s- a lot of nerve activity, y’know. I didn’t notice I’d grabbed you.”

“It was the moment,” Sam agreed. “We were watching a bunch of other people hold hands and shit.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said. He shook water off of his fingers and then wiped his hands on his slacks. “Can we go eat now?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, nodding quickly. “Let’s get outta here. I’m sure other people are waiting.”

The dancehall was dim, lit up only with white string lights draped over the rafters and around the tables and columns. It smelt heavenly, a mix of well cooked food and an open bar and desserts that Bucky couldn’t even name. Sam grabbed Bucky’s wrist--this time he felt it--and pulled him through the crowds lingering at the dance floor’s edge. He gave as short answers as was possible to stay polite until they got to the food.

Sarah was waiting for them.

“What took you two so long?” she asked. “I’ve had to fend off a dozen people looking for Captain America.”

“You will not believe what happened to us at the church,” Sam said, loading up a plate with more food than Bucky felt comfortable taking. It was fine because Sam was making Bucky a plate too and they were pretty similar in portion size.

“Oh, yes I will,” Sarah said. “Stephanie told me all about it.”

“What? How did she beat us here? We got in our car first.”

“Why did you two lie to that poor photographer?” Sarah asked.

Bucky looked up with a meringue half in his mouth. “We didn’t? She made the assumption herself.”

“You said you weren’t together,” Sarah clarified. “Why are you playing coy with me?”

“We’re not together,” Sam insisted for the second time that day. Bucky ignored the cinch of his heart and grabbed a brownie to add to Sam’s precarious stack of food.

Sarah brought two fingers up to the bridge of her nose. “Samuel Thomas,” she said and Sam squawked out an indignant sound.

“Don’t say my name like that. You sound just like mom.”

“You’re lucky it’s me and not mom listening to you lie to yourself.”

Sam was about to argue with her, Bucky could tell, when the plate in his hand suddenly tipped. Bucky’s hand shot out to steady it, fingers sliding over Sam’s to hold it still, wait for the food to stop moving before adjusting their hands under it to continue carrying it.

Sarah shot them a very pointed look. “Cass and AJ are holding our table down and Mrs. Reynolds has already said she wants at least two dances from you,” she said to Sam.

“Yes, ma’am,” Sam said, just a little sarcastically. “Come on, Buck. And grab an extra roll. AJ’s gonna take all the good desserts if we don’t distract him.”

Sam did far more dancing than Bucky did. Just about all night, he had someone on his arm, cutting in, or pulling him back to the floor. Between everyone at their table, they cleared the plates Sam had made but Bucky didn’t think Sam had had half of what he wanted. He made sure to collect another plate when he was sure everyone had had a chance to eat and kept it safe at his side, even with AJ curled up in his lap, snoozing against his metal shoulder soundly. True, most kids couldn’t eat while they were asleep but after watching him put away way more carbs and sugar than Bucky thought should be possible, he wasn’t putting anything past the kid.

When Sam managed to drag himself away from all of his fans for the sixth time that night, and when he shot Bucky a curious but pleased glance between AJ and his shoulder, Bucky just said, “Sugar crash,” and pushed the plate of food over to Sam with the arm not currently holding AJ in place.

Possibly, AJ got his appetite from his uncle if the way Sam dug in was anything to go by. “Jesus, man, breathe,” Bucky laughed and passed over the bottle of beer he’d been nursing most of the last hour.

“Thanks. I forgot how much a full night of dancing takes out of you. Not as young as I used to be, y’know,” Sam said and took a long pull from Bucky’s drink.

“You literally moved a boulder off a road yesterday,” Bucky pointed out.

“I only had to do that once and I had the jetpack. I’ll tell you, my feet wish I had the wings about now,” Sam answered. He put away a roll and one of the sweets Bucky didn’t know before finally sitting back a little, forearms rested on the tables. He’d discarded his jacket after the fourth or so dance and at some point he’d rolled up his shirt sleeves to his elbows. That, plus the brown suspenders over his light blue shirt had him looking like a hundred old memories in Bucky’s mind.

“AJ and I filmed you a few times,” Bucky said to distract himself from the sweat cooling on Sam’s forearms. He brought his phone out and left it on the table as it played a video. Sam leaned forward and then laughed.

“Oh, you liked that one, huh?” he asked.

“Nah, that was AJ’s choice. I liked this one,” he said, swiping to the previous video.

“Of course, something more lindy-hop,” Sam said with a nod. “That lady called me every single day after mom died, y’know. She always said it was ‘cause she missed her already and our voices were similar, but I think she was worried about me.”

“Who was this one?” Bucky asked, flipping through a few more clips.

“Oh, shit,” Sam laughed. “I can’t believe you recorded that. We went to the prom together junior year. Her dad hated me. He’d probably hate that this video exists.”

“Captain America couldn’t even clear the bad blood?” Bucky joked.

“Hell no. Prom night, he busted into the living room after the dance thinking he was gonna catch us in some act but we were just watching movies. It was never like that with us, but you couldn't convince him.”

Bucky flipped to another video. “Her son joined up with me but ended up dropping out and going Navy instead. - She was my first boss. - I played baseball with that guy and he came out a few months after we graduated. - I dated her daughter very briefly. - That’s the daughter and the little one is her daughter. - That’s my favorite teacher’s son. He just wanted to say hi from his mom.”

“Hey, what are you looking at?” AJ asked groggily suddenly. He leaned over the table, small hand coming to rest where, once again, Sam and Bucky’s had drifted together on the other side of the phone. This time they couldn’t jump apart.

“Uncle Sam, Uncle Bucky danced with my teacher and she said he had the prettiest eyes she’d ever seen,” Cass shouted as he came bounding back to the table with Sarah in tow behind him. Bucky had seen her dance with a handsome man for three dances in a row so if she cut any new knowing looks at where their hands were being held hostage, he had some retaliation this time.

Bucky finally let Sam drag him out to the middle of the dancefloor just as things were beginning to wind down. Many guests had already left for the evening, catering had cleared out the food, though Sam and AJ really did their part in making sure there was no bread left for them to clean, and the band had packed up and left a local DJ to close out the night.

This time, Bucky was more than aware of his hand sliding into Sam’s, his metal hand settling against Sam’s shoulder, thumb brushing over the strap of his suspenders. Sam’s other hand was warm and welcome against his hip. Bucky couldn’t help but step closer to him as they swayed to the slow song.

“You were really good with all the kids all night,” Sam said. “I saw them dogpile you earlier.”

“Kids like me,” Bucky said with a shrug. “Entertaining them was my job at weddings back when too. All those nights of dancing and I never got to show off at family functions,” he joked.

“You showed off plenty. I think it’s gonna be you Mrs. Reynolds asks for next time someone gets married. Hell, maybe she’ll be marrying you.”

Bucky laughed and shook his head. “Hey, she’s got spirit. I think if we’d gone a few more dances, she might’ve found one I didn’t know.”

“Well, it was a jazz band. Can’t blame you for not keeping up when you didn’t grow up with good music.”

“We had jazz,” Bucky said with a roll of his eyes. “It was nice, getting to see more of your life.”

Sam looked thoughtful for a moment before he nodded. “Yeah, it was nice stepping back in time a little bit, getting to see how everyone’s grown up.”

“You’re so loved here. Not Captain America. Sam Wilson. People adore you.”

Sam ducked his head shyly and Bucky reached up to catch a knuckle under his chin. The music had stopped and their feet must’ve realized it before their brains because they weren’t dancing anymore either.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Sammy,” someone called from across the room. Bucky recognized the groom’s voice. “You haven’t let go of his hand all night. Just kiss him already.”

Sam and Bucky both looked down at their tangled fingers and let out a little laugh. “Well, if it’s what your fans want…” Bucky suggested.

“Shut up, man,” Sam laughed and leaned forward to kiss him.