#and thursday jokes and goes along with it to cause more confusion x)

[the-haunted-office]

"For the last time, no, I am not Mae's father. It's impossible for a myriad of reasons. But you know what. The next idiot who asks me if I am, I'm going to just say yes. Point blank. And leave it at that."

[supercorpkid]

Game Night.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader, Alex Danvers x Niece!Reader, Kelly Olsen x Niece!Reader.

Word count: 1865.

Two weeks ago, your moms weren’t even talking to each other, now they can’t go five minutes without touching and kissing. You want to complain about it, but then you remember how bad it was those days without Lena in your house, so you just shut up and let them enjoy themselves.

“So, I was thinking…” Kara goes into the living room, popcorn in hand, settling in one couch with your mom. You’re on the opposite side, reaching out for the food. “We haven’t had a game night in a long time.”

“That’s true.” Lena agrees, taking the bowl from Kara’s hand and passing it to you.

“We should have one. You know, we can invite the Olsens, and you can invite your girlfriend.” Kara looks at you raising the eyebrows. You choke on one popcorn, and start coughing, turning red. “Kid are you alright?” Kara rushes to your side and you swallow hard.

“Rao, no.” You reach for your soda. They wait for you to recover yourself. “There’s no way I’m inviting Maya to a game night.”

“Why not?” Kara asks, a little pout coming up on her lips.

“Because you can’t play for fun.” You say and Lena gives Kara a little side smirk. “Don’t laugh, Mrs. Luthor. You’re even worse!”

“HA!” Kara says feeling victorious, but she soon stops and frowns. “Come on! Why can’t we have a nice time with her?”

You just raise one eyebrow.

“We’ll behave.” She promises. “Right, love? We can behave, right?”

You scoff.

“Even if you could, which we all know you can’t, there's no way of knowing the kind of embarrassment aunt Alex would put me through.” You say, making Kara roll her eyes in response.

“Look who’s a teenager now, feeling oh so embarrassed of her family.” She complains and you hold a laugh at her reaction. You look at Lena with pleading eyes, asking her to just drop this ridiculous idea, forgetting completely that Lena is now Maya’s number one fan.

“I think it’s an excellent idea!” Lena agrees with her head. “So, it’s settled.” What? No, it’s not. “We’ll have the Olsens and Maya for game’s night on Thursday.”

“Great.” You fake a smile and think of ways to get out from this.

But Thursday comes and you haven’t figured out yet. So, sooner than later, Maya is knocking on your door and you’re looking around to everyone’s face and their reaction. Rao, you hope they’ll behave.

“Hey babe!” Maya says when you open the door. “Thanks for inviting me.”

“Yeah, don’t thank me yet.” You smile and she gives you a kiss on the cheek, well aware of everyone’s eyes on both of you. “I’m sorry in advance.”

“Maya! Come in!” Kara smiles, throwing her arms up, looking way too excited to see someone she met once. It’s the beginning of the night and your cheeks are already burning red. “We’re about to divide the teams.”

“Oh, great.” Maya chimes, walking in, and you stand still. Should you pretend you’re not feeling well, and tell Maya to leave? “Hey! I got you, Mrs. Danvers!”

Well, shit.

“YES! PAN PALS!” Kara yells, high-fiving your girlfriend, and you drop your head low. This is going to be a really long night, won’t it?

“Come on, kiddo. It’s me and you.” Alex says and you smile a little. At least you have a chance to win, if everything else is going to be a bust.

“Well, I guess that leaves you with me, Jamie.” You hear Lena’s voice coming from the living room. “Come on, we’re all settled.”

Maya comes back to where you are, and holds your hand, pulling you towards the living room like she is trying to tell you that everything is ok, and you don’t have to be embarrassed. Not yet, anyways.

“Ok, should we start with Pictionary?” Kara asks, putting a few games on top of the table. You look at Lena and Jamie on the side of the living room, clearly coming up with codes for the game, and you turn to aunt Alex, sitting on the couch next to you.

“Where’s auntie?” You ask Alex, talking about Kelly.

“Oh, she’ll join later. She had one patient coming in late.” Alex looks at Maya in front of her, grabs her beer, and does her intimidation pose. You widen your eyes. “So, Maya-”

“Aunt! We should talk about our codes!” You scream, before she starts. And you hear Kara agreeing, pulling Maya to the side so they can talk. You look at Alex. “Please, don’t embarrass me. You know Kara is already going to do that way too much!”

“Then what else will I do? I thought everyone was supposed to embarrass you today.” She jokes and you roll your eyes. “Ok, fine. I’ll behave. So, what are our codes?”

The game starts with Lena and Jamie not being able to draw nor guess a skateboard. They absolutely suck. But weirdly Kara and Maya make a good duo, and they make you and Alex work very hard to try to win. In the end, it’s very close, but they win and Kara is just over the moon.

“The Pan Pals do it again!” Kara cheers excitedly.

“They do it for the first time, is what you mean.” Alex cuts her off, and you give Maya a smile.

“I just can’t believe I’ve beaten the two Luthors.” Maya says with a chuckle.

“Don’t get used to it.” Lena pretends to be annoyed, but then smiles. “Congratulation, pan pals.” She jokes.

Kelly arrives soon after, and you all have to think of a game with no teams, so she can join. You end up settling for Resistance.

“I don’t like Resistance.” Kara crosses her arms. She always loses this one.

“Yeah, ‘cause you can’t lie, momma.”

“I can lie!” Kara says and everyone, except Lena, gives her a little smile. “I can too! I said you were the cutest baby I’ve seen, but you looked like a potato with eyes!”

“Oh, yeah. You did.” Alex agrees next to you and you frown.

“You look like a potato now!” It’s your defense, but it doesn’t matter. Everyone is already laughing at you. Even Lena, which is hurtful. “Ok, whatever.”

“Oh, my baby.” Kara comes to hug you and you roll your eyes. “Sorry, you looked adorable.”

“You are aware I look EXACTLY like you, right?” You ask and she thinks about it for a second. “Yeah, well, you think about that next time.”

Despite Kara’s protest, the game is still fun. It doesn’t matter that Kelly wins, because she can tell when everyone is lying. It's still fun hanging out with all of them, and it’s nice to see Maya getting along well with everyone. Your heart feels like exploding in your chest from all the love you’re feeling.

You all play a bunch of quick games after that. And before you realize, you let your guard down. You should’ve known better than doing that. Your moms cannot behave.

“Lena!” Kara looks at Lena’s hand, and her UNO cards. “Please, don’t.”

“I’m sorry, honey.” Lena drops her voice low, sounding like a true movie villain.

“Please, Lena.” Kara begs and you roll your eyes. Maya looks amused with the interaction, and that makes you smile a little, that is until Kara finishes her sentence. “Lena, I swear no sex for a week, if you do this.”

“OH MY GOD!” You yell, turning red, while everyone else laughs hard. You reach for Lena’s hand and put her +4 card down. “That’s it! Draw four. Stop talking. Good God.”

Maya is also turning red next to you, but from laughter. Jamie looks equally amused, and the only other person who is rolling her eyes is Alex. Kara huffs in her seat, but draws four cards, and stops talking for a little while. Thanks to Rao, Jamie has the winning card and the game ends quickly.

“Well, this has been fun.” You lie standing up, looking at Jamie that stands up right after. “But the young ones are going outside to play video game.”

Maya stands up, looking confused. Kara stands up too.

“You’re NOT young, momma.” You stop her, making Lena giggle into her wine glass, and Alex wheeze out a laughter.

“I was going to get more wine.” Kara rolls her eyes. “But that was offensive.”

You leave a pouting Kara behind, and make your way to the backyard, followed closely by Jamie and Maya. The three of you end up not playing anything, just talking and laughing about the night.

“Sorry about my moms, they’re-”

“So fun!” Maya finishes your sentence, with a smile. “Seriously, they’re so cool! I wish my parents were this chill.” She pokes Jamie. “Your moms are pretty awesome too. I hope Kelly didn’t over analyze me.”

“Oh, she definitely did.” Jamie says, making you agree with your head. “But I’m sure she liked you.”

“They all did.” You know that for sure.

“Yeah, we all did.” Alex says, poking her head through the door with a smile. “Work emergency, so we've gotta go.” She points inside.

“Oh!” You and Jamie stand up immediately knowing what that means.

“Maya, Kelly can give you a ride back home, if you’d like.” Alex adds, and Maya stands up, agreeing with her head.

“Yeah! Sure, thanks!” She says, and the three of you make your way to the living room.

Everyone goes around saying goodbyes. Alex already rushed out the door, and Kelly is picking up her stuff to leave.

“Oh, where’s your momma? I wanna say goodbye to her.” Maya says and your eyes widen looking at Lena, well-aware Kara flew out of the house even before Alex went outside to call you guys.

“She-She is not feeling so well.” Lena answers. “She’s upstairs. But don’t worry, I’ll tell her you said goodbye. And I’m sure you two will be seeing each other again soon, because you’re more than welcomed here, dear.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Luthor.” Maya waves Lena goodbye, and you breathe out in relief.

“I’ll walk you out!” You say, grabbing Maya’s hand and guiding her to Kelly’s momvan parked on the driveway. “I’ll see you tomorrow at school.”

“Great.” She gives you a quick kiss, before Kelly shows up. “I had a great time. Your family is amazing, I get now why you’re so awesome.”

Jamie coughs behind you two.

“And Jamie. Yeah.” Maya adds with a smile. “I get why both of you are so great!”

“Nice save, babe.” You kiss her again, and smile. “I’m glad you came.”

“Me too.” Maya kisses one more time and gets in Kelly’s momvan. You watch them leaving then make your way inside the house.

“See.” Lena says as soon as you walk in. “We can behave.” You raise one eyebrow at her. “I mean, I can behave.”

“Yeah, you can.” You agree and Lena walks to you, giving you a kiss on the head.

“Are you happy?” She asks looking at your face, and your smile widens in response. “Good! That’s all I want for you, babygirl.”

And you are happy. Probably the happiest you’ve ever been. Finally.

[leahseclipse]

Early stages

(Gif by @zhuzhubii​ )

*

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: When Spencer starts dating someone, his work gets in the way, causing more problems than he thought it would.

Category: Fluff/ ~Angst

Warnings: Mentions of case, usual cm stuff, but mostly fluff

Requested by @definitelynotkatesblog​ (ily Katie!!)

A/N: Okay guys be ready, 'cause you're in a full ride for a fluff fic with baby Reid ;) I just fking love writing baby Reid, he's *screams internally* (you got the idea) anyway, enjoy!!!

Word count: 5.1k

After shortly visiting his mother after he wasn't able to visit her for a week because of work, he had made his way back to the office, checking his watch that indicated him that it was 5:44PM as he left the building; the weather was quite comfortable when he had gotten outside.

His phone had run out of battery, resulting in hurrying back to the office in case he had been called for a case, as he was way too embarrassed to ask for someone's phone to call JJ. 

Spencer never was comfortable to talk with people, it had been a bit difficult to feel at ease with his colleagues at first, but eventually he got the hang of it, but in general, when he doesn't know people, it's a different thing. 

The first impression that they usually have when he begins rambling about things that come out of his head is that he's either weird, before he explains the "I can read 20 000 words per minute, I have an eidetic memory and an IQ of 187…" thing. 

They also freeze for a minute, trying to understand what he just said, for the simple reason that when he rambles about binary code for example, not everyone tends to understand the way he explains it when he uses the proper terms. 

As he was in a hurry, he didn't manage to get the time he needed for putting his stuff back in his satchel, so a few of the books he had originally taken from his apartment and the ones his mother had given him to read were in his arms. He just had to hope the books wouldn't end up on the floor because he'd stumble into someone on the way.

And a few seconds later, what he hadn't hoped for unfortunately happened.

He hadn't seen the girl who was running in front of him while he was in his thoughts. She seemed to be in a hurry from the way she was running.

He had managed to save a few books from falling to the ground, only two or three had fallen.

"Oh- I-I'm sorry! Let me help!" She had said, panicking.

"It's okay, don't...worry." He reached out his hands towards the girl's hand that was holding the two books, as he looked at her.

She was beautiful.

The kind of beautiful girl that takes your breath away.

It had taken him a few seconds to come back to reality after he had froze when he had seen her face.

"A-are you okay? I hope you...didn't get hurt."

"Don't worry! Everything's okay! I...uh, gotta go, I'm so sorry for the inconvenience, have a great day!" She hurried out before running past him down the street.

He hadn't even gotten the time to ask for her name, she was already gone when he had glanced behind him. 

He had let out a sigh, before walking in the opposite way, in hopes to see her again, even if it wouldn't be soon, or never, if she wasn't from around.

*

For once, the beginning of the day had happened to be quite calm, everyone had managed to get more sleep and head to the office at eight o'clock instead of two in the morning.

Spencer had felt relieved about that, just a few days ago, the usual coffee shop he goes to and that happens to be closer to his apartment had reopened after the works that needed to be done were completed.

He didn't feel like drinking the coffee they had at the office, it wasn't horrible, but not as good at the one he usually drinks from the shop.

Before he had stepped inside, he had called Morgan to ask him and eventually the team if they wanted him to grab coffee.

It wasn't a serious thing that could go to the point of a real fight if he wouldn't ask them, but he'd get "lectured" by Morgan for a few minutes before he'd give up.

It only was a simple joke between the members, but Spencer didn't really go well with the joke stuff. 

After he had scribbled down the orders on a paper before hanging up, he stepped inside the shop, waiting in line behind someone.

"I can't join you guys tonight, sorry. I'm not sure that my boss would let me leave early….maybe on Thursday. Okay, yeah. It's gonna be my turn, I gotta go. Yeah, bye Sarah." 

He didn't mean to pay attention when she was talking on the phone, it happened before he even got the time to not do it, but the voice suddenly felt familiar.

'Where have I heard it?'

He searched for a bit in his mind, as the incident from a week ago popped up.

"Oh- I-I'm sorry! Let me help!"

"Don't worry! Everything's okay! I...uh, gotta go, I'm so sorry for the inconvenience, have a great day!"

The girl from the other day.

'Was it really her?'

He had asked himself that, because completely different people can have the same voice, and as for her hair, different people can happen to look the same when you can only see their backs.

Spencer had immediately thought that it must have been fate that allowed him to see her again, but he couldn't rush too fast, he wasn't really sure that it was her.

It wasn't until she had stepped further towards the counter when it happened to be her turn to order; causing Spencer to step out of his bubble and step forward as well.

Deep inside him, he knew that it was her, he was sure, but his lack of social interaction made him create an excuse so that he wouldn't have to talk to her.

He didn't want her to think that he's weird because he'd ask for her name, and possibly her number if the conversation goes well, but he couldn't rush.

He still had to manage to place a word in order to initiate the conversation first.

If only.

When her order was done and handed to her after the payment had been given, she was on her way to the exit, suddenly stopping to take her bag from the side to the front before opening it, probably to look for something.

He didn't exactly know what went on in his mind at that moment; his brain must have sent a signal or something for him to move instead of watching her go.

He still doesn't know how he managed to place a word.

"Um...excuse me? I don't know if you remember me but we kinda...uh, talked, well uh...I, we ran into each other first, but don't worry, it was totally ok, you didn't...do anything bad, I- sorry, I'm rambling."

"No, it's okay! I remember you. I'm glad to know that, I was afraid I did something bad, you reassured me now. Thanks for asking me how I was...I'm sorry, what's your name?"

"It's Spencer R-Reid. I also uh...generally introduce myself by doctor, I'm not actually an MD, but I have three PhDs, but uh...since I'm not actually here for professional terms, I thought that doctor would have been too um...strict..? I…"

'You're rambling again Spencer, she looks even more confused now.' 

"Is Spencer fine then?"

"Y-yeah, it is. What should I...call you?"

"Oh, y/n is just fine." 

"Um...okay. Y/N," He paused, as he desperately tried to convince himself to ask her the question that had been in his mind since he had seen her. 

"I know all of this is sudden, because we barely know each other and I may seem kind of weird because of what I'm asking but, what about we uh...see each other later, hang out, you know?"

"Yeah, why not? I'm free tomorrow, what about 2PM, same place? You'll show me some of your books, I guess. I really liked the blue one you had, I can't remember the name."

"Oh, t-that one?." He said, rapidly taking it from his bag to show it to her as she nodded.

"That one, yeah, it really sounds interesting, will you tell me more about it tomorrow?"

"I will."

"Great! I can't wait, see you tomorrow."

"See you." He said, as he watched her making her way to the exit before disappearing in the corner of the street.

Well, turns out it wasn't as bad as he had imagined it would be in his head. At least that's one thing done. 

He couldn't wait for that day, and the next one to go by so that he could finally talk to her. He wanted to show her the book, answer her questions, give her information, he wanted to hear her voice, see her expressions. It had only taken just a glance to fall in love with her.

She might not feel the same way now, but even seeing her would be enough.

The excitement and waiting had been worth it when he had seen her again. He was already there for an hour, he didn't want to be late and made her wait at all. It never was his type to be late, especially if he's about to spend time with a person he likes.

She was wearing a beige cardigan along with a white top under it, and black jeans, tucked under her black shoes. He had noticed every single detail. 

Someone else would have probably found it weird and compared that behavior to a psychopath's; but he couldn't just give a single glance at her and stop looking, but eventually, he'd had to stop staring if he didn't want to scare her.

When he had begun talking with her, he understood what people meant when they felt like they knew someone for an eternity. 

Spencer had felt at ease when they talked, she'd listen to him, even if he noticed that she had understood half of what he had said, but still tried to somehow figure it out before he had explained, and kinda understood and didn't at the same time.

He had noticed that she'd put her thumb on her lips every time she was thoughtful.

He clearly had the behavior of a psychopath by picking up everything she'd do; but he couldn't help himself but look at her features, her manners, the way her hair bounced back and forth, the way her eyes lightened up when a subject she appreciated came up in the conversation.

In that moment, she was the only thing his mind was focused on. He hadn't even noticed that he had barely drunk the half of his cup that was now cold when he had put his hands on it. 

He was too mesmerized by her to notice it.

Who would have thought that the small genius of the office, the one that not a single member of the team would imagine he'd talk to a girl, would actually talking to one, plus, managed to be the one to initiate the conversation? That clearly seemed impossible until that day.

But even if it seemed unreal, she was here, in front of him. 

It wasn't a dream.

What made him think it was a dream was because y/n was way out of her league, if someone would see them together they'd probably ask themselves how he did to talk with a girl that beautiful, from his point of view.

If she hadn't talked when he had started blanking, none of them would have been able to talk. She seemed more confident, but he still had noticed her hesitance when she started her sentences, or didn't know if she could ask for an easier meaning of his rambling.

Even if the most nervous of the two was probably him, he had told her not to hesitate if she needed to ask a question about whatever he was saying.

The team had often made him know that he often was talking without explaining, which caused him to have to explain everything from the beginning with easier terms, instead of the proper ones that no one could even understand if they didn't actually know the meaning beforehand.

They haven't talked about work at all, they just forgot about it. To Spencer, they were like two teenagers hanging out in a coffee shop after school. 

They had talked about books, their music taste, even if the conversation had mainly been made by her as Spencer was more fond of books than music, so, the conversations about books had been started by him in general.

She knew some books, but she wasn't reading often, and had admitted that she didn't know many authors, which Spencer gladly helped by proposing a hundred of authors.

He had unconsciously ended up overwhelming her a bit after proposing ten authors in a row; she had to gently stop him to ask him to come back to some of the authors he had listed.

But, nonetheless, the free hour and the few minutes had gone smoothly, and way too fast. 

"Shit, it's already 3:20. Um...do you want to stay in touch?"

"You mean that you want my...number?"

"Yeah. Gimme your phone genius." She said, as Spencer had nervously taken in from his pocket to give it to her, as she entered her number, handing it back when she was done. "I've already sent a message so I know who it is. I really liked talking to you, that was nice."

"I-I liked it too. It's not everyday that I get to chat about books with someone else. I don't...really have a lot of people to talk it with."

"Well now you have someone. I would have told you to call me whenever you want, but I doubt my boss would like to see me on a call that's not related to work, so it would be in the evening, in case you want to talk."

"Same here. I'm pretty busy all day, but um...would you uh, like to hang out again sometime? I...it just crossed my mind, and I'd really like to hang out with you again. If you want, of course."

"Don't worry, it's okay. You know that I wouldn't dare to say no, I like to hang out with you too."

"So uh, if we can this week again, what do you say about two or six in the afternoon, tomorrow? I'll let you know if I can."

"You mean...like a date?"

"Yeah, I guess so?"

"Oh, a date it is then. I'll let you know too." She spontaneously answered, as she took her stuff and got up from her seat. "It sucks that we have to go, I wish we could have had more time, but unfortunately, we both work."

"Sucks, yeah. The hour went by fast." 

"It did. Way too fast." She let out a sigh, glancing at the door. "Well uh...see you later, I have to go n-now." She stuttered, as she waved at him before stepping out the shop.

"See you later y/n." 

And that was it, he definitely was head over heels with her. 

*

He suddenly found himself waking up in a start in the middle of a night when his phone began ringing.

It took him a few seconds to realize what was just happening, as he took the phone and answered before missing the call.

"What…? It's 4AM."

"Reid, it's Morgan, and yeah it's 4. We got a case so you gotta come."

"Seriously…? Okay, I'll be there in 15." 

"Got it. Don't be late." Morgan said, hanging up.

What an awesome way to start the day.

Just yesterday, he thought that his day would be calm, just for once. 

Well, he was wrong.

He grunted as he got up from the bed, before turning his lamp on in order to manage to see something instead of trying to find the light switch with the little light that was here.

It never took him a lot of time to get ready in the morning in general, he wasn't the type of person to linger when he'd get ready, he'd just go to the bathroom first to take a quick shower, taking his clothes in with him so he wouldn't have to search for them in his closet, he'll just have to dry up and put them on to save time.

Once he was done with the tasks he had in mind; he quickly checked that he had everything he'd needed, and proceeded to exit his apartment to make his way to work.

On his way, he had received a few messages to which he had answered, but accidentally went on y/n's contact.

'Shit.'

They were supposed to have a date today; and whether the case is nearby or in another state, he won't come back for at least more than a day, and probably won't have much time for the kind of chat they had the other day.

Well, that's another great way to start the day, because now he has to cancel a date he had been waiting for, and doesn't even know when they could set another day, or if it would even be possible at all.

The very least he could do, and the only one, would be to contact her to let her know.

Hopefully they'll be able to reschedule.

*

Turns out another killer decided to make the case longer, so turns out they had to reschedule once again.

He had messaged her earlier in the day before going in the jet, and the case happened to be longer than expected because they'd just discovered that another unsub could be involved. 

And as if it wasn't already bad, he was using the same m.o, but wasn't targeting the same type of victims, it totally was different. If he could say it that way, they just had 'another case'.

The week was going amazingly great, he wasn't even sure if the second rescheduling would even happen, no one could know of a case in advance, the only way for them to know was per a call. 

He would have to give her the same excuse every time.

She had kept sending messages as; 'it's okay.', 'don't worry', 'it's no big deal', but he couldn't figure out whether it truly didn't bother her, or if she pretended like it didn't bother her.

He didn't tell her what exactly his job was, so it really pained him to have to give the same excuse. She would probably start to wonder if he's not lying at some point later.

 Spencer really didn't want her to think he was making up excuses because he wants to avoid y/n, it's the opposite; he'd like to see her so bad, if he could just go and take the first plane to Quantico, he'd do it.

God, he hated that. It truly wasn't something he liked to do, especially to her in this situation. She really was nice, caring, attentive, an awesome person; he didn't like to put her in that situation at all.

He would have liked to have a second choice, but he didn't have any. He could only send her a message to let her know. He couldn't see her, but he couldn't bear imagining how disappointed she must have been.

His thoughts about what she must have been thinking were probably exaggerated after he thought of it. He could be worrying for nothing, and she could just be okay with it, as she told in her messages. He really hoped she didn't think he was avoiding her.

Let's hope they'll be able to reschedule.

*

"Again? God, is it ever gonna stop? I'm tired of it." Spencer slighted, he had to reschedule...again. 

"Trust me kid, everyone is. It's been a hell of a week we just had." Morgan answered Spencer, as he leaned back in his seat. "What got you so frustrated? You're not like that usually."

"What do you mean?"

"Come on kid, I can see that you have something on your mind. I would say that it was your mom, but even when you don't see her for a week, a call is enough for you to be calm. So...it is a girl?"

"What? No, it's not! I'm j-just frustrated, that's all! There's uh, nothing else."

"Then if there's 'nothing', why are you getting so nervous suddenly? You can tell me if you have a girl, we're like brothers Spencer."

"You know that you can really get annoying sometimes?"

"No. Probably because I'm not. Who do you think I am? I'm Derek Morgan, a funny and charming man." 

"Funny and charming, yeah. Clearly, the lack of sleep is seriously affecting your brain."

"I can assure you it isn't. Let me remind you that this whole conversation started because you didn't want to admit you had a girl."

"I don't have a girl, we just talk, we're not together."

"So you admit that you…sort of have one?"

"Fine, I kinda have one. But nothing serious is going on."

"I wouldn't have imagined that you'd manage to get a girl to talk to you one day."

"Why? Does everyone think I can't have a girlfriend here?"

"Mostly." Emily interrupted. "You can barely talk to girls in general. Well, it depends."

"What depends?"

"Lila Archer." Morgan answered.

"If you're talking about the kiss, she's the one who started!"

"And you kept going." Emily said.

"Okay- Where is the conversation going guys? I don't see any correspondence between the subject we were talking about and Lila." 

"If you say so, pretty boy."

"There's no 'if you say so.'. You're really annoying Derek. I'm gonna see if they need help in the other room. Bye." Spencer got up from his seat, waving at the two agents, before walking away.

*

Rescheduling.

Again.

He was sure that she was about to lose her patience at this point. 

And considering the amount of paperwork that would be waiting for him after the closure of the case, he began asking himself if they'd ever had a single minute one day.

He got out of the building, deciding to call her this time.

"Hello?"

"Uh, hi y/n, it's Spencer."

"Oh, do we have to reschedule again?"

"Yeah. Again."

"Spencer, is something wrong? It's been three times already."

"I know. It's just that….there's something I haven't told you." 

"And...what is it?"

"I...wasn't going to tell you at first, but...I work for the FBI."

"That's why? You could have told me, I wouldn't have been mad; but, if you didn't want us to see each other again, you could have let me know at least."

"Wait, no- I do want us to see each other again! I was just...really busy at the office, and I...didn't know how to tell you...that I work for the FBI. I didn't want to avoid you, not at all."

"It really is okay. I'm glad that you told me now. Thanks."

"I didn't want to lie to you anymore. I was already sad whenever I had to send you a message."

"I was a bit sad too, I really want to see you. Well, now that I know the reason why, call me again when you want to reschedule, it can be a real meeting, or just a call."

"I'm really gonna do my best, I swear y/n. I'll let you know as soon as possible." 

"I'll wait for your call then."

"Okay, uh...have a great day."

"You too." She said, as Spencer hung up, visibly looking irritated because of the situation.

*

The week had been surprisingly calm. 

Surprisingly, because by now, JJ would have come by to announce a new case, but she didn't. When everyone had seen her, she was walking calmly, not in a rush.

This was weird.

The past few days, when he'd finally think he could call y/n, JJ would burst in the office. But this time, she didn't. 

Today could really be a calm one. It could be. 

If he happened to have luck today, he could finally hang out with y/n. No more rescheduling. 

As everyone was either busy with paperwork, daydreaming, or doing something else, the office wasn't as noisy at it usually was. Only the sound of the doors, phones ringing and a few calm voices would eventually be heard by everyone.

The team's tasks had suddenly been interrupted by the voice of Rossi who stepped in the bureau.

"Guys, I was wondering, since we apparently don't have anything to do, what about a dinner party tonight, my place? Just thought about it." He asked, as a few sentences of agreement were soon heard. "And Reid, you're coming this time, don't you dare decline."

"I uh…plan to see someone. So, I don't really know."

"Then bring them to the party. I'm sure we'll like whoever you'll bring. It's all solved." Rossi clapped his hands together, turning to the other side when Emily had brought his attention.

'I guess it's happening then.'

He quietly got out of the bureau, walking in the direction of an empty conference room, closing the door behind him, before taking his phone from his pocket to dial a number he knew so well that he could type it with his eyes closed.

"Oh, hi Spencer, what's going on?"

"Are you free tonight? At um...8PM?"

"Yeah, I actually am. You know that I never have anything to do. Where do you want to go?"

"Actually, it's a surprise. I'll come to pick you up, uh…would it be too intrusive to ask for your adress?"

"No, not at all. This is wow...exciting. We'll finally get to see each other."

"Yeah, I know. It's been a while since we were supposed to see each other, but I swear, it's for real this time, I won't call you to cancel, only to let you know I'm coming."

"Well, don't forget to call then. I tend to overstress, so if I don't get a call, or even a text, I might explode."

"I'll call, don't worry. And, don't forget to send your address. I don't want to ask the tech analyst to spy on you."

"Alright, alright, I'll send it after the call, I promise. I have to go now, sorry. I'll see you at 8."

"I'll see you at 8. Bye." 

Holy. 

Spencer thought he might explode. His whole thoughts were full of excitement, he finally was about to see her after a week or rescheduling bullshit because of the work. 

All he had to hope for now was for the evening to go well; she didn’t knew any of the members, they didn’t know her as well, plus, Spencer didn’t really know if Morgan had let everyone know that he had met a girl, let’s hope not.

*

As he was about to go, he had took his phone out of his pocket to see the address, before noticing that she had forgotten to send him the address, nonetheless, he had to shortly call her so that y/n could indicate it to him.

He had drove to her place in just a few minutes, and couldn’t believe that she happened to live in a street he’d walk by often.

What a small world.

It almost was like they were meant to meet each other at some point; and fate reunited them. 

He knew that he had said it at least a billion times since he had first seen her, but she really was pretty. She had a black dress on, which was under a thin jacket of the same color, along with white heels, that weren’t too high.

Spencer had even wondered if she hadn’t put heels so that she could be a bit taller, and somehow manage to reach his height. He didn’t want to mention it to make her uncomfortable in case it happened to be what she wanted to do, but if it was that, he really found it cute, and quite funny.

The car ride had happened to be more entertaining that he thought it would be, the conversation simply started with a single talk about books, and a few minutes later, it was about plants. He really like to be capable to talk with someone that was at ease to talk about anything that’d cross his mind.

She didn’t seem to be uncomfortable, so that reassured him a lot, he stressed a lot about it.

God, he couldn’t believe that he actually was talking with her. He had already mentionned it when he had to reschedule again, but she was way too beautiful for him. She’d be able to freeze his mind with a single glance.

She truly was amazing.

“Spencer? Is everything okay? I think we just arrived, you stopped the car”

“What? Oh, I-I’m sorry, I got distracted. And y-yeah we just arrived.”

“That place is...huge.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, I thought that too the first time. You’ll quickly adjust to it, Rossi is really nice, you’ll feel at ease in no time. Come on, we should get going.” Spencer said, as they both opened the door that was on their respective side, before walking in the alley towards the door.

They soon were welcomed by a blonde girl after Spencer had rang the doorbell. She seemed a bit shocked of what was in front of her eyes.

“Oh my god, did you bring your girlfriend Spencer? I wasn’t aware of that.”

“Uh I...we are uh, just dating, for now, it’s uh-”

“We’re not together yet, we just talked, it’s our first date tonight.” Y/N had interrupted Spencer, as she could clearly see that he was struggling with forming a sentence.

“Oh, wow, it’s great! I’m happy to know that. I’m Penelope, by the way. You can call me Penny if you want. Come inside guys, I’ll introduce her to the rest of the team.” Penelope said, looking at Y/N, as she closed the door once they were in.

“There you are pretty boy! I see you brought the mystery girl with you. I’m Derek.”

“I’m y/n. It’s nice to meet everyone, I heard a lot about the team when I talked with Spencer.”

“I hope he didn’t tell bad things about us, we’re nothing but nice.”

“No, don’t worry, he didn’t.” She said, as she glanced behind his shoulder at the people walking towards them.

“We have a new face here apparently.” The brunette said.

“Yeah, I’m the new specimen. It’s nice to meet you, I’m y/n.”

“Nice to meet you too; I’m Emily, this is JJ, and the two guys over there are Rossi and Hotch.” Emily said, as she motioned the concerned people to y/n. 

“Everyone really seems nice.”

“Don’t worry, everyone is.” Spencer interrupted. “What do you say we uh...go over there so you can talk to others...?”

“Yeah, that’d be great.” She smiled,as she walked to the direction of the living room where the two men stood.

The evening had gone even more better than he thought it would. They all had been amazingly welcoming with her, and as he had noticed, they all had felt like they had known each other for more than just a few hours.

Spencer couldn’t truly wait to spend more time with her.

[skullrock]

the lesson - Steve x Reader

pairing: Steve x Reader

summary: a continuation of the Faker - you decide to teach Steve how to have good sex. 

word count: 4.2k of pure fuckin smut baby

warnings: SMUT. swearing.

a/n: this is my fucking magnum opus y'all. this is it. it won’t get any better. I have reached my peak. I really hope you guys enjoy dorky and silly Steve learning how to have sex! this was really amazing and fun to write!! there WILL be another part to this so keep your eyes peeled!

===

On a Thursday afternoon, you get a phone call. Sitting up in bed, you grab the phone from beside you.

“Hello?”

“Y/N, I need your help.” It’s Steve.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I – fine,” he says. “I need your help.”

“Yes?” you say, confused.

“Do you… happen to have… Stacy MacNamera’s number?”

You still, confusion increasing. “Your ex-girlfriend Stacy?”

“Yeah.”

“…You want her number?”

“Yes.”

You drop your head into your free hand. “Steve… why-“

“Look, I’ll cut to the chase,” he says. “Remember our… conversation?”

“The one where I told you women fake all the time?”

“Yeah, that,” he says. His voice becomes soft and you lean into the phone to hear him better. “I want to ask – to see if I was – if she faked it for me.”

You have no words.

“I need your help because Robin won’t –“

“Yeah, no shit, Robin won’t!” You groan, straightening. “What makes you think I will help?”

He pauses. “Um… because – I will really appreciate it?”

“Just ask Nancy. For fuck’s sake, Steve, you can’t just call someone you dated in high school to ask if you dicked them down good enough.”

“I can’t ask Nancy,” he scoffs. “That’s weird.”

“Weirder than asking someone from four years ago if she liked your –“

“I’ll call you back,” he groans, and hangs up.

You slowly put the phone back on the receiver, absolutely speechless. You hope the guy doesn’t stick his foot in his mouth even more so than usual.

===

A knock comes on your door a few hours later. You run downstairs and open it, only to be met with Steve, looking like a lost puppy. You can tell his hand has been through his hair more than a dozen times, and he looks stressed.

“Results weren’t good, huh?”

“Can I come in?” he asks sadly. You relent, stepping to the side, and he heads straight for your couch. He slams his body into it and ducks his head into his arms.

“What happened, champ?” You ask sympathetically, sitting down across from him.

After a moment, he speaks. “She said I was okay. She said when we had sex the first time, she didn’t get the hype.”

You suppress a laugh.

“She said it was mediocre,” he continues, and moves his head to the side to look at you. “She said I was fine with moving my hips, but not much else. And then she said I didn’t know what the – what the -?” He furrows his brows. “The… click? Is?”

“What did you just say?” you ask, leaning forward and almost falling out of the chair. “The click?”

“Is that like, when you know you love someone?” he says, frowning. “Because I think I get the click –”

“Steve,” you breathe, eyes wide. “Steve, you dumbass. Did she say the clit?”

His brows furrow, and then he nods. “Yeah, yeah, the clit.”

“Steve,” you moan, burying your head in your hands. “The clit is a body part, dude. It’s near the vagina.”

“I’m hopeless!” he cries, shoving his head back into his arms. You roll your eyes at his dramatics.

“Calm down,” you say, getting up and kneeling in front of him. You rub his shoulders. “You just need a girl to teach you –“

“You!” he says, bolting into an upright position. “You teach me!”

“What?” you ask, incredulous. “You want me to teach you how to have good sex?”

“Well, yeah,” he says, looking at you like you’re stupid. “It’s not weird, we’re just friends.”

You feel your face heat up. “That’s what makes it weird, genius.”

“It’s like, no strings attached,” he says desperately. “Come on, Y/N, what else are friends for?”

“Your definition of friend is a lot different from mine,” you say, licking your lips nervously. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about it. Steve’s handsome, no denying. But do you really want to have shitty sex?

“I’ll give you all the credit,” he pleas. “Everyone will remember you as the girl who taught me what the clint is.”

You’re curious as to how bad he can be – and maybe it can be cathartic for you. You like helping people. This is just… a bit more help than usual.

“We do it, you don’t tell anyone,” you say. “None of our friends can know.”

“Yeah, yeah!” he says. “That’s fine.”

“But when you start hooking up again, I want the credit.”

“Done, it’s done!”

You sigh heavily, nerves bustling. You get up off your knees and sit beside him. You turn slightly to face him. He looks a bit too excited, and you scoff. “Alright, buddy, I’m teaching you female anatomy, this is strictly professional.”

“Professional, yeah,” he says. “I can be that.”

You sigh again. “Okay. How do you usually start your sexual endeavors?”

He stills, brows furrowed. “Do I tell you or show you?”

“Oh, right,” you say nervously. “I guess you show me.”

He picks up on your nervousness and grins smugly. “This is strictly professional.”

“Shut up,” you hiss. “Just lead me, okay? I’ll stop you when I have critiques or tips.”

“Alright,” he says, and he suddenly grabs you. He pulls you to him, lips on yours.

Your first observation – he’s a good kisser. His lips are soft, and they move purposefully. Honestly, it knocks your breath out of your lungs. Steve’s hands run along your sides gently before resting on your hips, pulling you even closer. His tongue dips out and he licks your bottom lip, so you open. His tongue delves into your mouth, running against yours, and you’re feeling a little too dizzy and a little too hot. His hand rests at the hem of your shirt for a moment before it slides up. His large hand cups your breast and you can’t help but moan, then groan at the smug smile you feel against your lips.

“You’re a good kisser,” you say, pulling away.

“At least I have that goin’ for me, huh?”

You know he notices your red cheeks, but you hope he doesn’t say anything. His hand rests still on your breast and he looks at you eagerly, awaiting instruction.

“Um,” you continue. “Keep going.”

And he does. He lays you down onto your back and goes for your neck next, his lips leaving wet kisses on it. He sucks and bites gently, nearly perfectly. You’re blissed out, holding back your moans because you don’t want to stroke his ego too soon. But then his hands are going towards your pants, and you gasp.

“Woah, buddy,” you say, and he freezes, looking up at you in confusion.

“What?”

“You’re moving too fast,” you say, breathless. “Don’t you work from like, the top down?”

His brows furrow heavily. “No?”

Your brows furrow in response. “You just go for it?”

“Well, yeah.”

“You moron,” you say, sitting up. He opens his mouth to protest, but you throw your shirt off – no bra, as you’d just been lounging. Steve’s mouth drops and his eyes widen, and he’s harder than he’s ever been in a matter of seconds. Your eyes go down to his strained pants and you roll your eyes. “Alright, buddy – it’s just boobs.”

“What do I do?” he asks eagerly as you lay back down.

“Just – come here,” you say, and he does, propping himself up on his elbows. You clear your throat. “Okay, you’re good at using your tongue – at least on the face. So just – use it on – on the nipples.”

He cocks his head but leans down, kissing from your neck down to your chest, tongue occasionally darting out. He gets to one breast and looks up at you uncertainly. You nod in encouragement and he takes your nipple into his mouth. You suck in a sharp breath as he rolls his tongue on it, and then suck in another when he bites it a bit too hard.

“Okay, it’s not a jawbreaker,” you say, laughing. “Gentle.”

For whatever reason, Steve is even more turned on by the directions. It’s been a long time since he’s worshipped a body, and he’s content that it’s yours. His friend. Nothing else. Just his buddy, his pal, his bestie. He smooths his tongue over it and tries again, gentler this time, and it makes you squirm.

“Like that,” you affirm. “Keep practicing.”

Steve runs his lips over your chest, giving you goosebumps, and he does the same gentle treatment to the other breast. One hand comes up and cups your other breast and you nod to tell him you like it. Steve, honestly, is about to lose it, but he makes an effort to focus on how you feel in his mouth instead of how his jeans feel on his dick.

“Okay,” you say eventually, propping yourself up. “Now what, Steve?”

He looks lost. “Um – I keep going down, right?”

“Yes,” you say. “You – literally – keep going down. Have you ever eaten a girl out before?”

He crinkles his nose and you laugh in disbelief. “You’re joking.”

“Well apparently it’s a good thing, since I don’t know what the – Klimt is –“

“Klimt is a painter,” you sigh. “It’s the clit.”

“What’s that stand for?”

“It’s short for clitoris.”

He furrows his brows and looks down at your waistband. You smile. “Strip me, bud.”

Steve takes your pants off slowly – at least he has that part down. He goes to take off your underwear, straining against himself, but you sit up.

“Wait, wait,” you rush. “Take off your clothes now, too.”

He does as he is told – and he makes it dramatic, of course. Shirt coming off slowly, then slowly unbuttoning himself, unzipping extra slow.

“Steve, you don’t have to go that slow,” you say.

“I’m doing it for you!”

“I didn’t ask for a strip tease.”

He rolls his eyes but takes his jeans off. You see how hard he is through his boxers and your mouth automatically waters, but you look back up at his face, pushing the lust down. “You’re that hard already?”

“It’s been a while,” he admits sheepishly. “Boxers on or off?”

“On.” You lick your lips again. “It can cause some nice friction for you, and it makes the reveal a bit nicer.”

He nods and comes back to you on the couch. He looks at you with a cocked head, waiting for instruction. You’re nervous – he hadn’t touched you there yet, so you’re going from second to third base, and you’re doing it with your friend.

“Alright,” you say. “Um – so – you want to start by like, teasing.”

He smirks stupidly. “I don’t think this color of underwear looks good on you.”

“Tease the skin, you moron!”

“I know! Just trying to have some fun, Jesus.”

He scoots himself down, long legs hanging off of the arm rest at the end. It’s probably comical, but the moment his lips start kissing down your torso, you forget the imagery. His lips graze the waistband of your underwear and he stops for a moment before kissing back up.

You sigh a bit. “That’s it, just tease.”

He kisses down over the fabric and your breath hitches. He kisses down your thighs, almost the whole way off the couch. He sighs, irritated, and looks up at you. “Can’t we do this in a bed?”

“No, that’s vanilla,” you explain.

He rolls his eyes. “I am not vanilla.”

“Buddy, if you don’t know what the clit is, you’re definitely vanilla.”

He huffs but you relent. “Alright, we will go to my bedroom. But don’t think this means anything.”

The intimacy of being in your bed does mean something, but you won’t admit it.

When you get to your room, Steve shuts the door before gently pushing you against it, his hands flying over your bare skin. He bites your bottom lip and you gasp, which allows him to snake his tongue inside one more time.

“What are you doing?” you ask against his lips, then add, “I’m not complaining.”

“New room, new moves,” he mumbles, his hands flying up to your breasts. He rolls your nipples in his fingers and you melt into him – this was good.

“As nice as this is,” you say, resting your hands on his chest. “I need to teach you about the clit.”

He nods and you go to your bed, propping yourself up on the pillows. Steve settles between your legs again. You feel embarrassed by how wet you are, but you decide to let him know anyway. “Don’t let this go to your head – you’re really good with your tongue and hands. Can you see how wet I am?”

He looks down at your underwear and groans, nodding enthusiastically. Smirking, he adds, “Is this all from me?”

“I said, don’t let it go to your head,” you respond. You look down at him and bite your lip – Steve thinks it might be the hottest thing he ever saw – his friend, biting her lip, looking down at him with hooded eyes.

“Keep teasing?” he asks.

You sigh and timidly say, “You don’t have to just use lips and fingers, you know.”

He looks up at you in confusion. “You mean – my dick?”

“No.” You shift uncomfortably and finally say, “Your nose.”

“My nose?”

“Yeah, like, you can press it against the fabric –“

Steve tries it before you finish your thought, making you moan. It’s kind of sinful, which makes Steve harden in his boxers even more.

“Like that,” you say, strained. “And when the cloth comes off – you can use it when you – um – eat a girl … out.”

His fingers slip into the band of your underwear. “Can I take them off?”

“Good, you’re asking,” you say. “Yes, you can, and make sure you always ask a girl what she wants.”

He smiles smugly. “What do you want, Y/N?”

You roll your eyes, but the question is undeniably a turn on. “I want you to eat me out.” You pause. “Well, actually, I want you to learn what the fuck a clit is first.”

Steve takes your underwear off and gasps slightly. He has never been face to face with one of these before, and it’s very hot. He stares, mouth agape, and you can’t help but blush.

“Like what you see?” you ask.

“Hell yeah,” he breathes.

There’s an awkward silence where you don’t want to unpack what just happened. Then you clear your throat. “So, um, the clit is like, a nub towards the top.”

Steve nods, fingers going to part your folds, making you shiver.

“A nub?” he clarifies. “Is it this?” His finger brushes over it and you gasp before nodding vigorously.

“Yeah, right there, that,” you stutter. “That little thing is how you make a girl cum.”

Curiously, he presses on it – hard. You jump back and laugh. “For fucks sake, Steve, it’s not a button on a remote. It’s very sensitive, so you have to be gentle.”

“Sorry,” he says quietly, then uses his finger to slowly rub it.

“Circles,” you say, voice straining, and he changes his pace to draw slow circles on it.

You nod. “Yeah, right – oh my god.”

Steve dives in without warning, tongue circling over it gently. He moans into you, hips grinding into your mattress. He thinks you taste good; he thinks you feel good against his tongue. Your hips bucking up into him is a plus, and he wraps his arms around your waist to keep you still.

“G-good,” you stutter. “Good, Steve.”

He’s not completely hopeless – he learned what the clit is and he’s doing a damn good job at giving it attention. Steve inclines his head to go into you deeper, and you gasp at feeling his tongue right at your entrance. Steve’s going crazy over listening to your whines and moans and he goes a bit harder.

“Uh,” you say as he continues, pushing down the moans in your throat. “If a girl is – fuck – about to cum from this – you don’t – shit, Steve – you don’t like – go harder, okay?”

He nods and hums, making your hips buck again. You add, “You can suck on it, too.”

Steve hums again and his soft lips go back up to your clit, wrapping around it and giving it a small suck. A needy whine leaves your lips and he sucks again, tongue lapping as he does it. He thinks it’s cool how it all connects – the clit is like a nipple for the pussy. He wouldn’t say that out loud, of course – he just thinks it’s neat.

“You’re so wet,” he observes. You moan at the observation and hate that you can feel him smile into you. His tongue continues lapping and a sheen of sweat covers your body.

“You can use fingers,” you say. He gingerly adds one, making you gasp then groan. Your hips roll on his finger and he has to stop for a moment to gather himself before he literally creams his pants.

“Are you good?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you breathe, pupils blown. “You’re a quick learner.”

“Keep going?”

“Keep going.”

Steve starts to pump now, going in knuckle deep. His head stays away for a moment, groaning as he looks at your pussy swallow his finger, grinding into the bed again as a strangled moan comes out of him. Then his lips are back on you, sucking and licking as he fucks his finger in and out of you. You’re totally blissed out – if he keeps this up, you’re going to come undone.

“Steve,” you moan. “So good, buddy – add another finger.”

He does as he is told, and you are completely lost in the feeling. Your hand reaches up to play with your nipples and Steve’s eyes almost roll to the back of his head at the sight. He curls his fingers and you cry out. At your encouragement, he continues to stroke, fingers curled and tongue swirling around your clit.

“Talk dirty,” you instruct.

Steve knows he’s good at this; his vernacular is what got him girls in the first place. “Doin’ so good for me, sweetheart, fuck.”

You moan out an “oh”, and Steve thinks it’s maybe the hottest sound ever. “Do you like it when I fuck you with my fingers?”

“Steve,” you gasp, and he grins smugly again. He starts to pick up the pace but then remembers what you said and slows down again.

“I’m close,” you groan.

His pace stutters and his eyes shine. “Are you serious? Are you going to? For real?”

“Yes,” you cry out. “Watch me while I do it, okay?”

Steve attaches his lips to your clit again and you nearly shout. His eyes are on your face the whole time, soaking in how your hands can’t find something to hold on to, eventually settling on his hair. Your fingers lacing in it spurs him on and he curls his fingers just right, tongue lapping gently, and you feel the build in your lower stomach.

“So good, Steve,” you moan. “So good – you’re doing so –“ you choke on a moan. “So great!”

You climax quickly, hips arching off the bed as you do so. Steve tries to hold you down on the bed, but in vain; you’re nearly levitating off of the bed from how good it feels. It’s mind blowing, maybe the best climax you had with a partner. Steve nearly comes from the sight. He has the epiphany that making a girl feel good, seeing her squirm under him, hearing her actually climax – it’s the hottest thing in the world.

Steve pulls his fingers out of you and you twitch from the feeling, panting, wiping sweat off your brow. He sits up and grins cockily at you. But you know he’s close, too, from the large stain on his boxers. It makes your mouth water until you realize there’s probably a stain on the bed, which is exactly why you didn’t invite him up in the first place.  

You can’t help the laugh that slips past your lips, though. “Needy, huh?”

His mouth is on yours in the next instant and you taste yourself on his tongue. You groan into him but push him away slightly. “You do use condoms, right?”

“I already take care of six kids, I’m not trying to become a dad,” he scoffs.

“Condoms are in the nightstand,” you say, head nodding over to the side.

He frowns. “You have condoms?”

You look at him in confusion. “Yeah?”

Steve swallows the jealously he feels, a little saddened at the fact that you’ve had sex more than he has, and with someone else, too. You suddenly jerk and he furrows his brows.

“Aftershocks,” you explain. “My legs are shaking, too.”

“Aftershocks?” he repeats.

You frown. “Have you never had aftershocks?”

Steve shakes his head and you laugh. “I’m about to blow your mind, Steve Harrington.”

That’s all the convincing he needs. He reaches over and grabs the box from your drawer, fumbling with one and rolling it on. You are impressed with his length and width – those weren’t rumors the girls made up, at least. He hisses at the contact of just his own hand, and you realize there’s no way you’re going to cum again tonight. You’re fine with it, but you’re also very excited to see his face when he orgasms within a minute.

Actually, you wish you could bet money on those odds, but Robin’s not here, thank God.

“Are you sure?” he asks. You think it’s sweet that he asks you what you want.

“Put it in me, baby,” you joke, trying to laugh off your nerves.

He takes a deep breath and lines up with you. His eyes meet yours and you nod. He slides in slowly, slowly, and then he bottoms out in you. He gasps slightly and you can see the effort on his face, him trying desperately not to cum. You grind your hips into him, grinning, and he starts to thrust. He reaches you in ways you haven’t felt before, filling you up more than anyone else. It kind of pisses you off, because you never thought Steve Harrington, hopeless fuck, would ever be able to give you such good sex. He rolls his hips back, pulling himself almost completely out before pushing in again. You groan and your stomach flips.

Steve continues for a few thrusts, and you smile wickedly up at him. He falters for a second before you clench your muscles around him – and then he’s coming, hips bucking into yours as he buries his face into your neck. He groans loudly, and it’s actually very hot, and you wish you could hear more of those noises come out of him.

He eventually pulls back and his cheeks are flaming. A look of shame crosses his face and you start to laugh. It’s lighthearted, more with him than at him, and he’s confused before he starts to laugh too. You both laugh until you’re breathless, with him still inside of you, and tears start to run down your cheeks as you struggle to catch your breath.

“Guess I need some work, huh?” he asks once you both calm down. He slips out of you and you groan involuntarily, upset at the loss of contact. He disposes the condom and looks back at you. His breath hitches – you still look beautiful even when you aren’t writhing beneath him, and it takes him aback. But he remembers that you’re his friend and he pulls his eyes away.

“You did good,” you reply. “You did really good. You made a girl come tonight, buddy. You should be proud.”

Steve nods, running a hand through his hair. “That was, um. That was … really hot.”

“Turns out it’s nice to make someone else feel good, huh?”

“Yeah,” he breathes. He goes to grab his boxers but crinkles his nose when he sees the stain on them.

“Gonna have to go commando,” you remark, grabbing a robe and throwing it on. “You’ll be okay, maybe the friction will feel good.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t –“

“I guess you’ll have to come back for another lesson, huh?” you say, smiling. “We should probably perfect the actual sex part and get you some practice.”

Both of your hearts skip a beat at the suggestion, and you pull your eyes away from his, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You know – if you want.”

“Yes,” he says, a little too quickly. He blushes and looks away. “I mean – yeah, sure. Sounds good.”

“Alright.” You smile at him again. “Now get out of my house.”

===

taglist (join here!):  @harrington-ofhawkins @comedy-witch @harringtonisadingus @sassisaluxury @gothackedalready @willowrose99 @pxtrickhxckstettxr @wolfish-willow @harringtown​ @m-blasterrr​

[himooonlight]

who are you? pt. 3 (reggie x reader)

pairing: reggie x reader

word count: 4.7k

plot: you dream about reggie constantly and when you see him perfoming with julie, you decide to ask her about him

warnings: sad stuff?

A/N: hello again! i'm super excited about this chapter, so hope you all like it :) two things though: 1. this story takes place after the season finale and i'm trying to keep everything accurate and 2. the dream is in italics. NOW ENJOY!!

oh and just in case you missed, here's chapter 1 and chapter 2

- You know, I was thinking. - Reggie says as I wave my sister goodbye. She did talk to Julie's dad about having me for dinner, making sure he was okay with it, just like I knew she would do. Mr. Molina seems like a very nice person. - “I’ll always find you” sounded a bit creepy. How about “we’ll always find each other”? That way I’m not the only creepy stalker in the relationship. We can be weird together.

  Reggie knows I can't reply, but I can't help but smile. He's too cute.

  - Y/N, come in! - Mr. Molina screams from the door.

  Daisy goes back to her car and when I can't see her anymore due to all the plants and trees in their front yard, I walk inside. The first thing I notice is a large wooden straight staircase and a lot of different carpets on the floor. Everything is neat and in brown tones. A lot of frames are decorating the yellow walls; some are pictures and some are paintings. Everything is elegant and cool, detailed even.

  - Julie, Y/N's here! - He screams at the bottom of the sairs. He's looking up, so I'm assuming Julie's room is upstairs. Soon enough, his daughter appears and smiles at me. I like how her front teeth are separated and she doesn't wear much makeup; it makes me feel more accepted and understood somehow. - Girls, I'll be in my room working on some editing, so behave, ok? Oh, and there's some fresh strawberries in the fridge. Maybe you can make Y/N that smoothie.

  He winks at Julie and goes upstairs. Meanwhile, I'm frozen, inebriated with a memory.

  Fresh strawberries. That house. The open kitchen.

  I've seen that place before in my dreams. With Reggie. When I was a man.

  The cabinets were light blue and the orange chairs gave the kitchen some sort of happy vibe even though I wasn't comfortable there. A few people were sitting on the counter, close to the big fridge, holding cups. The strangers were flirting, kissing and singing with the loud music that was playing. Overwhelmed, I looked for Reggie.

  It was the same house. The floor was covered in white porcelain tiles and there was a big leather couch where Julie's dinner table was, but I knew it was the same place.

  - Are you ok? - Julie asks me.

  Her dad is gone and suddenly I feel inadequate. I have to focus on breathing normally while trying to remember more details. Everybody is connected somehow, I know, and maybe recalling a conversation or recognizing something could help Reggie and the boys.

  - I need to explain my connection with Reggie. - I whisper. My voice is shaky and she looks worried. Reggie tries to hold my hand and fails, making me smile softly at him. It's nice to know he is around, somehow. - I've been here before, in my dreams. It's… are the boys here as well?

  I look around just for a moment, taking in more details. The curtains in the dream house were beige. There were a lot of plants around and a few picture frames in the living room. I can't quite see the faces in the photos, but it's a family of three in front of a Christmas tree. There's too many people around me and it's overwhelming.

  I sit on the floor and Julie follows me. Closing my eyes, I try getting back to that dream just in time to recall Reggie touching my shoulder and saying "there's some fresh strawberries in the fridge; you said you like it so I bought you some".

  He looks shy for a moment and I can't help but stare at his eyes in awe. I don't feel very relaxed at the party and Reggie picks up on the way I play with my fingers in agitation and look away, trying to see if we can go out. He takes my hand and soon we're at the back of the house, in a big garage with a lot of instruments.

  - Thanks for coming. I know you're not a huge fan of parties, but I'm glad you're here. It wouldn't be the same without you.

  His stare is too much for me to handle, so I walk around the place, looking attentively at the instruments. The drums and a guitar are inviting to the touch, but I hold back. Even though we are alone, it's like being with him is wrong so I act like I'm walking on eggshells. Feels right liking him, but it's wrong; it's a fight that I know my head will win and my heart will be devastated.

  - I came here to say that I… - I start, not looking at him. He's too pure and I'm too weak. The music is still playing in the background and we can hear a lot of screams and laughs coming from the house. - that we can't do this.

  Reggie looks offended.

  - Do what?

  - This. You and I. - I replied, turning to face him. He looks perplexed. Did I misread the signs? - My parents would kill me.

  I can cut the tension with a knife. However, I don't have to try because Reginald is doing that for us by putting a mask on and looking frustrated. He opens his mouth a few times, as if trying to justify or explain himself.

  - Ethan, what are you talking about? - He asks, with a scoff. I don't recognize that reaction on his face. It's like he's trying too hard to play a part he doesn't even want to. - We're friends. I like girls. I flirt a lot, sure, but it's all a joke.

  He bought me strawberries as a joke.

  He held my hand and called me pet names for the laugh.

  He was pretending when I thought he felt something more.

  - I'm sorry. - I said, staring at some papers on the floor. Probably unfinished lyrics. A notebook is open with the name Emily on the top of the page and then it hits me: he could never love me the way I loved him. I was the weird one; I was wrong. - I have to go.

  - Y/N. - Julie touches my arm, making me open my eyes. - Tell me what is going on.

  She's fairly calm. Reggie, however, looks like he's about to scream.

  - They are here, right? - I inquire and Julie nods in response. - I've been having dreams about Reggie for a year now. The first five dreams or so were different. I was a man and he was… himself. But things were different somehow, not just me. The world was not the same. The last dream I had before meeting him as me, a girl, I was at this house. Again: this was not your place. The decoration was totally different and people were dressed like they were in the 90's. He said his bandmate was throwing a party since his parents weren't home and that I should come. I actually did and he said he didn't like me because I was a guy. So I left and the next thing I know I'm me and he's asking for help, saying he needs me. At first I thought he changed his mind, cause we were going on dates, talking about the future, laughing and just enjoying everything together. In my dreams, of course. Now I just... it felt like different lifetimes, to be honest. And I liked him in both.

  - Alex is asking when was the first time you two met. - Julie says.

  - I don't know the date, but it was at a book club. He said they were going to play there, but they mostly ate. And one of his friends was super engaged with the people there, listening to them talk about literature and life. I can't remember their faces very well. I just remember one was brunette and the other was blond, just like your band, Julie.

  - Luke asked when was the last time you had a dream about me. - It's Reginald's turn to be his friends' messenger.

  - Thursday night. Reggie said something about having to go, not knowing how to stay. It was very emotional. - I answer. - But a friend of mine sent me a video of your concert on Friday night. She was at the Orpheum and she said you were great. I just couldn't stop looking at you and wondering if I'm insane. Am I crazy, Reggie?

  - If you are crazy, so am I. - Julie declares when the boy next to me doesn't say anything. It's too much to take in. The three of us are still sitting on the floor and the silence is loud. Loud because it means a lot; that we're all confused. - Alex, wait.

  - What? - I ask.

  - Alex stormed off. He asked us to come to the garage.

  Reggie beams, looking ashamed, and we go to the place I've seen before in my dreams. The garage/studio has chairs in the ceiling and a lot of plants, along with a beautiful piano and a bigger window. Beside me, Julie seems nervous and suddenly two good-looking boys appear in front of me, playing the guitar and the drums.

  The brunette and the blond that I didn't recognize before are playing loudly, staring at me with indecipherable expressions and furrowed eyebrows.

  - This is the only way you can see us, when we're playing. - The drummer screams. - I'm Alex and this is Luke. - In cue, Luke smiles a little. He is definitely the one that enjoyed metaphors in my dream. - Do you remember anything else about the book club?

  - Why? - Luke inquires.

  - Just sush. - He says.

  - Anything like what?

  - Like the address.

  Luke looks at Alex like he just said the biggest nonsense he has ever heard. Reggie is standing next to me, speechless. I can tell he's conflicted, so I don't push. I'm confused as well, trying to focus on the first dream, realizing that the details are not very clear anymore; all I can recall is Reggie being adorable and my feelings all over the place. I remember walking around the house unpretentiously with him, thinking about his features and his personality.

  - I don't know. - I state.

  - Do you think this is about your unfinished business too? - It's Julie's turn to make questions. - The book club? Y/N? What is going on? After Friday I figured we would stay together, but now you're actually considering going back out there?

  I have no idea what she is talking about. I just feel like I'm intruding and should just let go, pretending that Reggie is just imaginary. I don't think I'll dream about him again, so I could always just do like the night I said "I have to go" and leave again.

  Nobody really talks about leaving. Songs are written about being left, books tell the story of the ones who leave, movies focus on the girl moving on after getting dumped. It's never about the villain, the person who decides to leave because it's too overwhelming, too much to handle. Nobody talks about how hard it is to live with the weight of the decision to go away - it's always focussed on the consequences, not the responsibility of leaving.

  - I wanna know. - Reginald says. - I think I need to know.

  - And I think I remember the address. - Luke sounds serious. He is still playing just like Alex (who looks tired), but keeps trying his best to continue. - Do you think your dad can take you to Echo Park right now?

  The car ride is a bit awkward. Julie is sitting in the front with her dad, that doesn't question when she asks to go to the park. She justifies with a simple "we want to see this house for our drawing class, so we can get some inspiration" that he answers with a smile and a "let's go". Luke and Alex teleport, while Reggie stays behind to accompany me.

  - I'm trying to remember that day, I promise. The day we met. - His voice is low and I feel an urge to hug him. - There's something here - He points at his head. - about the party, but I just remember feeling bad for lying about something, then Luke said we should play and that's pretty much it. What does it even mean? How can you dream about that? Are you a ghost too? Ok, just ignore that last question. But how? Why? What is happening?

  - You know, Y/N, I really think that friend of ours should just learn how to teleport, right? - Julie says, turning her head around and looking at Reggie. He apologies and disappears.

  The rest of the way is basically Mr. Molina asking about school and making me feel at ease. He is kind and bright, which makes me wonder about Julie's mom. Was she as bright? Or maybe more quiet and calm? Collected maybe? The way her dad talks about Carlos, Julie's brother, makes me think that they're doing alright, that they are healing. Julie engages a little more when he talks about the concert and when the cars slows down close the address Luke gave us, my heart is going wild.

  - This is the house, right? - Mr. Molina asks.

  It is. Luke is right; that's the friendly two-story white house that works as a cultural center. Big windows, big porch. There's a few flowers and a swig, but the rest is just like I remember. Looks like there's a small gathering going on and I can see some people in the front yard, talking and drinking what looks like orange juice. A "Hope Cultural Center" sign greets people with a smiley face and blue letters close to the door too.

  - Yep, that's it.

  - Dad, do you wanna go park somewhere? We'll take some pictures and wait for you here. Maybe go inside a little? Our friend said they have book clubs, so maybe there's some expositions and stuff like that too.

  - Sure! I'll be right back.

  Julie and I get out of the car and find Reggie sitting on the sidewalk, observing the house attentively. I assume the boys are with him as well.

  - Should we go inside? Just to check it out? - I can't recognize my own voice. It doesn't sound like the same person that was contemplating running away. I sound excited. - What do you think?

  Both of them nod and we take the few steps that separates us from the gates. It's open and everybody looks very friendly, so we go on, holding onto the "Hope" sign. Hoping we can discover something important, any information that can help us. I wouldn't say out loud, but I could add "life changing" to that list as well.

  - Oh, hello there! - An old lady says. Her voice is almost like summer days and cotton candy. - I've never seen your faces around here. 

  - Yeah, we were just passing by and…

  - Welcome then, my dears. We're happy to have you with us today. - Her smile melts my heart. It could be her fluffy hair or the wrinkles in her eyes; perhaps everything about her screams "I'm a nice person". - We're celebrating our 30th anniversary! There's some expositions on the second floor, food in the kitchen area, back there, - She points somewhere like we know the place already and that makes me feel warm. - and music in the backyard too. Help yourself and if you need anything, let me know, ok?

  - She is so nice. - Reggie says, smiling too. - So, what are we looking for? - When everybody stays quiet, I feel panic rising in my chest.

  - Y/N, I'll stay here to wait for my dad. You go ahead and look around, see if you remember anything. The boys will do the same. - She looks around and I assume she is making sure they know what to do. - I'll text you when my dad gets here.

  As I take the first step further away from her, the panic intensifies. I have to put it aside so I can focus and try to find anything that's remotely relevant.

  I find myself going to the backyard, amused that everything looks so similar to my dream. The grass is greener, the fence is now brown, yet I can almost see Reggie and his friends standing at the same place.

  There's only one girl out there sitting with a guitar in a small stage made with wood pallets, seeming nervous. I take one last look around before heading upstairs. Reggie is by the kitchen and Julie is probably still at the door, so I find the stairs and take in all the frames by the wall. Some are poems, some are drawings and everything is beautiful, soulfull.

  When I get to the actual exposition, I find a photo that grabs my attention.

  It's a group picture with at least 6 people. The date says it's 1995 and everybody has a book in their hand and a silly look on their face, apparently happy to be there. Probably the old lady knows who they are, but I don't see her around, so I just continue my quest for the unknown.

  That is until I recognize Alex in another frame that also dates 1995. 

  He is holding a paper that says "best poem" and I feel goosebumps all over my arms. My throat closes.

  They are really dead. Reggie is really dead.

  Death took him away from me and I feel so selfish for feeling sad about it: I feel sad because I can't be with him anymore. My first thought is that it's disappointing loving someone so impossible like him. The second is "he was so young and had so many dreams… why?". Questioning death and all its mystery is probably normal, still I hate the feeling of not knowing more. Why is he a ghost? Why so early? Why him? Would I ever forget him completely?

  Life really is just a competition to see how long we can stay alive and well, tricking death. Death really is just about the living grieving because their love has no place to go.

   These people probably don't even know about Reggie, Alex and Luke. When they see the picture, they might think Alex is probably old, married and maybe doing something boring. Maybe they don't even suppose anything about him like it's not relevant, not worth it.

  It's impossible not to notice the bitter sensation in my mouth. I guess it's something like frustration or the weight of everything coming back to me after the insane day I had.

  - That's Alex. - Reggie's voice scares me and I jump a little. He's examining the picture carefully. - I don't remember being here, to be honest. No matter how hard I try.

  - Alex and his friends were the living proof that you can always try harder. - I hear someone's voice. When I look around, the old lady is standing next to me.

  I can't bring myself to say anything. My whole body is tired and my thoughts are not clear anymore. All I can do is keep all my attention on that picture and hope I can go home soon.

  - They were great. - She continues, not minding Reggie. The lady can't see him. - They were in a band called Sunset Curve. My best friend is this guy's mom. - She points at the cheerful Alex immortalized in the photo. - Alex and his friends died that year and she was devastated. Everybody was. I've heard that one of the boys' parents searched the whole town for him before knowing about his death. Apparently they weren't on good terms.

  She is talking about Luke, making me feel like an intruder. Again.

  - Do you still talk to his mom? - I continue my way through the expositions while she follows me around. It's a timeline with different occasions, different people. Everybody is joyful and in bright colors, always doing something in a group, sustaining the idea that everything is better when you're surrounded by nice people. - Is she alright?

  - Oh, yes, darling, she is. His parents opened a coffee shop downtown. They've been involved in a lot of projects, volunteering to help the community. A few years back they decided to focus on kids and I think they found their purpose in life again with that. Let me show you something.

  Her hand flies to meet mine and I feel positive energy running through us. She is very vivid, which is a great match with her colorful clothes. She's wearing green pants, a pink shirt and orange shoes. Her smile is decorated with red lipstick, contrasting with a few missed teeth. It's inevitable to like her and her unique way of dressing and expressing herself.

  - Here. - We stop in 2018. The walls are white so the colors scream, begging for attention. - This was two years ago. Lisa and her husband, Jarred, Alex's parents, made a project to help kids and teenagers with music. They had workshops, competitions, small concerts at their cafe. It was amazing. They actually found...

  She is pointing at a few pictures where kids are playing instruments, wearing wigs and a lot of glitter. They all look delighted and excited and I can almost see the spark in their eyes. At the top, on the left side, I see something that makes me stop in my tracks, feeling dizzy. She shouldn't be wearing nice shoes, considering I might throw up at any moment.

  - Y/N. - Reggie calls. He probably sees the same thing I'm seeing.

  It can't be. I wanna go home.

  I can't be there anymore.

  - There you are. - Julie screams. My body is so stiff I can't turn around. - Y/N? What are you guys doing?

  - I was just showing her this picture. - She doesn't notice the way my mind is about to explode and continues. - It was back in 2018. These two boys were awesome and even covered Sunset Curve a few times. I think their names were Luke and Reggie, if I'm not mistaken. They haven't been around in a while. Jarred said they look just like Alex's bandmates, but this one - She points at Luke. - was an orphan and was kind of a troublemaker. And this one - It's Reggie's turn. - was having problems at school. They just assumed they didn't want to come to the workshops anymore. But my point is: his parents found their peace with their son's death. They managed to make something beautiful and honor Alex's name. It's all that matters, right? We can't change the fact that they died. All we can do is decide how we're going to use their influence in your lives.

  Julie is probably just as confused as I am. I hear an "excuse me for a second" and suddenly she is gone. I miss her colors and being oblivious to that information. That Reggie and Luke were alive two years ago.

  - What is going on?

  I can clearly see Reggie and Luke playing at a small stage, sharing a microphone. They look so connected and carefree. The quality of the picture is so good that I can't even question the date; there's no way that was taken before 1995.

  Alex is nowhere to be seen in that photo.

  - We need to find them, Y/N. We need to know who they are, why they're pretending to be Reggie and Luke and... what is going on?

  - Guys. - Reggie is still staring at the picture like his life depended on it. - Guys. I… I think I remember this. This place. Luke, you remember too right?

  It's the first time I see Reggie so unstable. He's not making jokes to hide his feelings; he is genuinely confused and afraid, like all of us. I feel like this is the first time I see him and it's scary. Not being able to help, frustrated that I can't stop the wave of uncertainty and fear that he's experiencing. 

  Luke's answer is not audible to me. Reggie is saying something yet I can't hear him because I'm busy engulfed in hesitation. Should I give them privacy and go home? Should I ask around about the coffee shop? Should I stay quiet?

  - I'm confused too. Maybe we should call it a day and just go home for now. We can come back another time. - Julie speaks. - Come on, Y/N. My dad is waiting outside.

  I ask Mr. Molina to take me home, with the excuse that I don't feel good. It's not really a lie. He is very polite and says I should come back another time so we can all have hot dogs together. Julie agrees and I wonder if we'll be friends. I hope so.

  When I get to my room, my mind runs to the picture. It's so clear, so confusing and so aggravating. We're getting played by faith, destiny or the universe; some unknown force with strong powers to make people sick to their stomach. Their goal might be to drive people crazy. Who knows? Surely not me.

  I eat dinner with my family, finish my homework, take a shower and read a little while listening to some music. When it's almost nine, I hear a knock on my door.

  - Come in.

  My eyes are playing tricks on me. Reggie is standing there, with his hands in his pockets and red eyes.

  I stand up, not minding my bunny pajamas. He doesn't seem to mind either.

  - Nice candles. - There he is, the same flirty Reggie. I relax and he steps closer to me. His gaze is so intense and I want to cry. - Look at you being romantic.

  - This was actually me trying to summon you, but alright. - I reply and he laughs. It's not genuine. - How are you?

  It's ironic how my playlist is called "slow dancing in my room". Soon enough, Reggie shows me his palms, as if inviting me for a dance. Not going all the way and trying to touch him, I smile weakly and almost wince with the urge to hold his hand. We sway and keep our eyes on each other.

  - I'm sad. - That's new. He's never this transparent. - I don't understand what is going on. I remember that day with Luke. At least I think I do. I don't know what's real and what's just my mind desperate to be alive again. I thought just playing with Julie was enough, but…

  He doesn't finish. The song ends and we keep dancing slowly, letting our eyes talk for a moment. I can notice the pain, the sadness and the urge in his face. It breaks my heart.

  - What do you wanna do now?

  He tries touching my hand and misses it. His eyes scan my room, probably running away from me and my questioning eyes.

  - I wanna know everything, but Alex is not taking it well. He's not very good with changes.

  I nod and turn my head a little, demanding his attention on me again.

  - Take your time, ok? Talk to them about it, make a list on why you should and shouldn't go to that cafe and... I don't know, - We're still dancing and I'm still crushed, but at least being with him calms my heart. - breathe. Just breathe. Everything will be alright.

  - How can you be so positive right now?

  - Well, if people can be negative for no reason, I can be positive for no reason too. - I shrug and he sighs. - Scratch that. I do have a reason.

  Reggie gets closer and I can almost feel his nose touching mine.

  - What is it? - His voice is just above a whisper.

  - I want that to be true. I want you to be happy and well. I want you to feel loved too. That's exactly what you deserve, Reggie. Happiness. Love.

  Before I can say anything else, he steps back and says goodnight. My chest hurts and when I wake up in the morning with a text from Julie saying "let's go to that cafe today", I don't feel happy. Or loved.

  I'm just scared.

[andyet-here-we-are]

I Would Get Into Millions of Accidents Just to See You, Chapter 1

For @wolfgeralt as a little ‘thank you’ for his stunning art -which I really adore, you can see it here: (x)

and for @hecky-heckicravedeath (x) who gave me inspiration for this fanfiction. Also Thanks @3tothe1 for being my beta. (You’re such a sweetheart, and I love you so much)

Anyway,  I hope you like it, my dear Witchlings! 💛

I present you: NURSE GERALT!  

Chapter 1 Word Count: 2461

ao3: (x) 

Chapter 2 Tumblr link: (x) Chapter 3 Tumblr link: (x) Chapter 4 Tumblr Link: (x)

When Geralt arrives for his shift, still feeling exhausted from yesterday, he has no idea what’s waiting for him at the hospital. His days are never too ordinary because you never know what you’ll come across.

That’s a part of being a nurse.

But he could never think that one of the not-so-famous musicians, his daughter, Ciri adores, was going to have a terrible traffic accident—which somehow isn’t on the news—and end up in the hospital he works at.

He already knows his name since Ciri just can’t stop talking about how nice he is and how he sounds like an angel. To the point where sometimes Geralt wants to say “Okay he is wonderful, so kind and lovely and you really love him, I get it. Can you please just keep eating your pasta? Yes Ciri, yes, I know that pasta is his favorite food, you say that every time we’re having pasta. ”

Geralt isn’t there for his intake, apparently, the accident happened last night, and the musician was badly injured.

Jaskier has a ruptured spleen that caused internal hemorrhaging, which the doctors were able to repair. He also has a mild concussion, a couple of broken ribs, along with some cuts and a broken leg which he is probably going to need another surgery for.

Since the other nurse who was responsible for Jaskier last night,  is having some family issues and has to take his annual leave, Jaskier is in Geralt’s care now, they let Geralt know.

When Geralt is home, Ciri starts talking about how Jaskier hadn’t posted anything in two days, and how worried she is since Jaskier had promised them a new song, “He never breaks his promises,” she says.

Geralt thinks that keeping the fact that the young man was in a traffic accident to himself is a better idea.

***

Three days later, when Geralt cracks open the door to Jaskier’s room, the man still sounds asleep, his chest rising and falling with every slow breath he takes as the morphine keeps dripping into his system. It’s enough to keep him subdued, if not completely pain-free.

He checks his IV, and takes a few notes onto his clipboard, right before the musician comes to, his eyelids fluttering.

And damn if he hasn’t got the most breathtaking eyes he has ever seen in his whole life. Even when they lack the spark Geralt is sure they normally hold in them.

Jaskier is confused, of course. So he tells him about what has happened and clears his throat before speaking.

“Mr. Pankratz, I need to take your vitals and then give you some medicines for the pain, may I have your arm?”

“Hell you can, might as well take my poor heart that seems to be beating for—”  Jaskier flirts and coughs before he has the chance to finish, his voice is low and hoarse from lack of use.

Geralt makes no comments, and fills a cup of water for him instead, helping him to drink it. He is surprised by the musician’s flattering words, and he is also glad that he is good at keeping a neutral expression on his face.  

“…you.” He finishes. “Well, I would normally use the ‘am I dead and in Heaven?’ cliché, but, see,” Jaskier keeps talking after sipping some water “I’m in too much pain to think that I’m in heaven. You sure look like a sexy angel or something though.  Ohoho, are you gonna give me a sponge bath, too? Just wondering. If so, I’m totally down for it. Just so you know.”

Geralt can’t help but snort at that a bit, “Do you always talk that much?”

“Maybe it’s you who doesn’t talk enough, you ever considered that?” Jaskier teases, and then suddenly his whole playful expression changes like he remembered that he had left his cat on the stone, and he frowns to himself, “Oh God, three days you said? Shitshitshit,” he drops his head back onto his pillows in a way too dramatic manner, covering his eyes with one hand “I had promised them a new song,” the nurse hears him mumbling “I am such an idiot.”

Jaskier truly seems so disappointed in himself that Geralt feels the need of comforting him. The man had a traffic accident, for crying out loud!

And yet, he is concerned for his fans because he couldn’t keep his promise, rather than being worried for himself.

Not even an hour has passed since he had the chance to talk to the man, but he already can see why Ciri likes this guy that much.

“It’s not your fault that some idiot decided that running a red light and colliding with your car was a good idea,” Geralt says “don’t beat yourself up over it.”

Jaskier still seems disappointed, but he mumbles a silent 'thank you’ before he says “ you may be right, but I promised them.”

***

Days go like this: Jaskier keeps flirting with him every time Geralt steps into his room to check on him and give him his medicines. Geralt never flirts back because of obvious reasons, but he never tells him to stop either, even though he does judge him with his eyes now and then.

The moments Geralt can spend with the man is the most he feels happy at work.

He can’t even deny that at this point.

Ciri keeps asking him why he looks happier nowadays, and why he suddenly became clumsy all of a sudden because he loses his focus easily.

“Who is the reason behind your smile? I gotta know! C’mon, it’s not fair! Don’t leave me hanging like this!”  She insists, being the stubborn girl she is, and after a second she grins like cheshire cat “You’ve finally met someone special?”

“…I might have, pumpkin”  is his answer. “I might have.”

***

He doesn’t know why, but Geralt doesn’t like Thursdays. Well, it’s probably because everything bad has ever happened to him seemed to happen on Thursdays, usually.

And sadly, this Thursday is no exception.

Hank, a seventy years old man who has been here for more than a month, and who has been very ill passes away. Who he had become really close with and really cared about.

Jaskier catches his change of mood when he goes to check on him and simply says, “Talk to me. I mean, you don’t have to. But you look like you could use a friend. And I’m so bored of watching television anyway.”

So Geralt talks to him.

He talks about Hank, about how wise he was. He talks about how he has been working here for years but how it still affects him so much when someone passes away. How he doesn’t suppose to feel a connection with his patients, how terrible of a nurse that makes him.

“That makes you human, not a terrible nurse.” Jaskier assures him, his voice as gentle as always. “Believe me. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

Geralt isn’t sure when Jaskier’s hand finds his hand as they talk, and when his dainty looking, long fingers link with his; but the intimate gesture feels so natural, so right that he just lets him.

***

Jaskier has surgery for his right leg the next day, and it’s not the first time that Geralt hears his patients saying the most ridiculous things after their surgery, thanks to the sedation.

But oh boy, if Jaskier doesn’t take it to a whole new level.

“Maaarry meee, my dear nurse!” the musician yells, “we could make the most adorable babies together! One of them would have my voice, one of them would have your weirdly sexy brooding or something. One of them would have my…. my tongue?  Or eyes? Cheeks! Yes, cheeks. And the other would have your lips while the other would have your… DIMPLE! I love that cute dimple you have on your jaw! ”

Geralt laughs, because how can he not?

“That’s biologically impossible.” the nurse says. “Also how many kids you have in mind? That was awfully a lot.”

“Hmm, let’s see. Marie, Duchess,” Jaskier starts to count with his fingers, and he looks so damn adorable that Geralt finds it extremely hard to not just reach out and ruffle his hair. “Thomas O'Malley, Toulouse, and Berlioz. So, six!”

“It’s five, actually,” Geralt tilts his head to the side slightly and corrects him with a fond, little smile. “So… you’re planning to name your kids after The Aristocats?”

“Our kids, mind you. And I’m not straight, love. You can’t expect me to do the math, I don’t make the rules.”

Love.

He just called Geralt ‘love’

“He probably calls ‘love’ everyone,” the nurse reminds himself and swallows, not being able to focus on what Jaskier says for a minute or so. “You’re no special.”

But the way Jaskier utters that one word, makes him feel like he is lying to himself.

When he can finally focus on what he is saying,  Jaskier is still talking about the same topic.

“…and you should be grateful that I’m not planning to name them after Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles! If we’re gonna have more than six, I’m totally doing that though.”

“Why Mr. Pankratz, we’re not even married yet. But I already don’t have a say in anything, it seems.” Geralt can’t help but tease with the young man in return.

Jaskier waves one hand weakly: “Don’t take this as my marriage proposal though, I’m better than that. If I were to propose to you I would do that in the most wonderful way. Roses, candles, and everything. Even fireworks.”

Geralt remains silent, so Jaskier talks again: “And ya know, joking aside, actually we couldn’t name them unless we adopted them when they were babies.”

“Why do you want so many kids?” the nurse wonders, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, growing up in a foster care system will do that to you,” Jaskier lets out a loud and somehow cute yawn.

Geralt knows that he wasn’t even supposed to ask that, and he shouldn’t even listen to Jaskier rambling about his life, which he won’t even remember after the sedative effect wears off.

But he can’t suppress his need of knowing more about him.

He just can’t.

“Wanna adopt as many kids as I can, so I can provide ’em a life filled full of love and everything they deserve. All the beautiful things in the universe. All the things I couldn’t have when I was a kid.” Jaskier admits, and his words make Geralt’s heart clench in his chest.

At that moment, Geralt is sure that he is falling so hard for the musician.

Maybe he already did.

“Don’t think that I’m not gonna name our dogs after them though. Or cats.” Jaskier mumbles. He looks like he is just two seconds away from falling into a deep sleep.

Right when he moves to leave, Jaskier grabs his hand as he softly, sweetly whispers, “Geralt, don’t leave me.” And he sounds so vulnerable, so weak that the nurse’s heart skips a beat in his chest.

Geralt would love to say that he doesn’t leave all night, but he has other patients he needs to check on, so he leaves.

But not before staying for five minutes as he holds the musician’s hand, and watches him fall asleep. Nobody needs to know, right?

***

The next day, Jaskier doesn’t remember most of the things he had said last night, but somehow he remembers that Geralt had stayed for a while.

That day, feeling guilty about yesterday, Geralt talks about his life.

“It’s only fair,” he thinks.

He talks about Ciri, and he lets the musician know how crazy his daughter is about him. That makes Jaskier smile at him warmly, but then again, his smile is always like this.

Warmer than the sun on a hot summer day.

Blushing, Jaskier hesitantly says that he would love to meet her. His big, baby blue eyes seem to be searching for something in Geralt’s eyes.

And Geralt understands that he finds whatever he was searching for when Geralt nods and says: “We would love that, too.”

***

“Look! Jaskier finally posted something!” Ciri says one morning while they are having breakfast, well, more like Ciri is having breakfast, and Geralt is just busy with his coffee since he is in a hurry.

“Hmm?”

“Wait, was this an ‘I’m Actually Curious About What You Have To Say’ type of ‘hmm’? Because it definitely didn’t sound like your usual ‘I Don’t Care’ type of ‘hmm’. Nice! That might be the first time you actually seem curious about what I have to say about him.” Ciri smiles, and lets out a sad, little “Oh.” After reading whatever Jaskier had posted.

“He says that he is having some minor health issues…”

Geralt huffs at that.

‘Minor health issues’

If what he had gone through is “minor” to Jaskier, Geralt doesn’t even want to imagine what “major health issues”  mean in his dictionary.

But he is sure that the only reason why the musician says “minor” is because he doesn’t want to worry his fans.

“‘I am in good hands though—I mean it, really really good hands—so no need to worry. Love you all, xoxo’ Hmm… I hope it’s nothing serious.”

The nurse looks at his daughter’s phone screen and the excessive amount of winking face emojis after ‘really really good hands’ part catches his attention.

He tries to hide his smile behind his black coffee mug.

And luckily, he succeeds.

***

A few days later, it’s time for Jaskier to be discharged from the hospital. And Geralt feels a bit sad about it, to be honest. Because he is already used to having the young man around.

To his never-ending flirting and jokes, to his smile, to his everything.

But the good thing is, that means that he will be no longer his patient.

Jaskier gives him his number before he leaves, and tells Geralt to call him whenever he is free.

“I’m totally getting into another accident and make sure they bring me here if you don’t call, Mr. Handsome Nurse,” the musician jokes in a low voice.

“We wouldn’t want that now, would we?” Geralt smiles. “You can be sure that I’ll call, Jaskier. And we can even have some pasta maybe.”

It’s the first time that Geralt calls him by his first name, and the nurse can see how the other man’s smile widens when he does that, eyes sparkling.

“Wow. Now I have no doubt about how much Ciri talks about me,“ scratching the back of his head, Jaskier chuckles shyly, and it’s music to his ears. Ciri is right. He does sound like an angel.

"Till we meet again, Geralt. Till we meet again.”

[lifeinahole27]

CS ff: “Walking the Tightrope” (Chapter 5/10) (au)

Summary: Killian’s daily routines are a matter of habit. When he wakes up late one morning, his routines all change for the better. Emma doesn’t care about routines, but she does care about Killian, no matter how reluctant she is to admit it to herself.

Rating: E (much later in the story)

Content Warnings: Maybe some strong language.

A Special Thank You: My continued gratitude to my lovely friends, @captainstudmuffin and @phiralovesloki. And a heap of love to @captainswanbigbang for putting this together and helping me accomplish this.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | 

Find it on Ao3 & FFN!

-x-

Chapter 5: Of Pirates and Settling In

October 31: Thursday

The night before Halloween, Killian is thankful for his prompt attention in setting out his Halloween costume a week ago since he doesn’t get home until after dinner time. Not that he’s going to complain, of course, since he had a damn good reason to be home at that hour after snogging Emma Swan in the middle of the street for way longer than either of them anticipated. 

He wonders if they’d still be there if Granny hadn’t interrupted them. 

Just thinking about it again sets his heart racing. After Emma asked him to be patient, Killian genuinely didn’t know if they would ever develop past friendly acquaintances. But after tonight, the way her hands had framed his face as she leaned up to kiss him before going inside, he’s pretty sure they’re well beyond that. He figured he would be lucky to find himself amongst the ranks of her friends and allies, but now there’s a genuine chance that this could turn into something more. 

Kissing her is an experience he can’t compare. Not only does she affect the way his heart beats but he would let her steal the air right from his lungs if that’s what she wanted. It’s probably dangerous to be this enamored with her already. 

Shaking his head, Killian pushes through his nightly routines, enjoying the ghost sensation of Emma’s lips on his.

At the end of the night, he doesn’t even notice that he didn’t follow his steps precisely or in the correct order, only that he completed what he had to before he climbs into bed anticipating the next day.

On Halloween, he wakes up early enough to fully prepare. He’d been told shortly after arriving that Halloween in this small town was a much-celebrated affair, and it just so happens that it is one of his favorite holidays to really get into. So he takes his time sliding on each part of the costume he’s had for years. 

Just about the only good thing that’s come out of losing his hand is the ability to authentically pull off a Captain Hook costume. He’s so adept at putting on the layers that he still has plenty of time to grab his coffee and secure his bag as he strolls out the door. 

It’s cold out, cold enough that he wishes again for a hat and a glove, and certainly not to have half of his chest exposed with the way the shirt buttons up. He hastens to his meeting spot with Emma, already looking forward to her reaction and to see what she’s wearing as her own costume. When he’d asked her about it last night, she’d smiled unassumingly and told him he’d have to wait and see. 

He’s more than a little surprised when he gets closer to the corner to find it already occupied. He knows it’s Emma, of course, but he’s so used to her hair being down and free-flowing that it takes him a couple seconds to absorb the fact that it’s carefully pulled back in a bun and pinned away from her face.

She turns when he gets closer, and his steps stumble just the slightest bit which causes her to smirk. She’s wearing glasses, which he’s never seen before, and his eyes just glance across the rest of her to take in the details. Her black leather jacket is on again, but instead of the usual jeans, she’s wearing a pair of dark grey dress trousers. On top, she’s wearing a button-up shirt and tie that look so close to something he owns that he wonders for a second if she snuck in and raided his closet. It’s all topped off with a waistcoat that matches the bottoms, but dips low and fastens beneath her bust. 

Her eyes must focus on him because her jaw is dropping and her eyes pop open wide beneath her spectacles, and they more than likely have matching looks on their faces. 

“Wow,” she says slowly, looking him up and down a few times. “You were not joking when you said you go all out.”

He spreads his arms wide so she can see the whole thing uninterrupted, spinning once when he finally gets all the way to the corner. She inches closer, tucking a book he didn’t notice before under her arm so she can reach out and grab the much older fashioned hook he uses with the costume. It’s a bit of a pain in the sense that he doesn’t have the functionality of his usual hook, but this fits the costume better and he loves the authentic feel of it. 

She lifts the apparatus to inspect it, running her fingers along the smooth metal. 

“Captain Hook? Really? Where’s the perm? The waxed moustache?”

“Left them back in England,” he tells her, shifting forward to move closer to her. 

“I like the eyeliner,” she confesses, her other hand sliding along the lapel of the greatcoat that he had specially made for this costume. 

“Our light is about to change,” he murmurs as she steps even closer still. He’s certainly not going to complain about these developments, even if it’s throwing their whole morning off by a few minutes. 

“Yeah, I know.” Despite those words, she still leans up and kisses him, lingering over the one simple press of her lips until just before the safety bell starts dinging to let them know the protected cross will end soon. 

She moves fluidly, then, using her grip on his hook to guide him across the street. When they get to Granny’s they pause again. 

“I’ll be working late tonight,” she tells him. “Text me to keep me entertained?”

“Hordes of rival pirates couldn’t stop me, love.” He bends to kiss her cheek softly, enjoying the noise she makes in approval before he steps away again. “Have a good day, Swan.”

“Thanks. You too, Captain!”

She’s already moving up the pathway before he remembers to ask, confused at the bookish look she’s wearing. “By the way, who are you supposed to be?” he asks from the entrance to the patio. 

Just as she reaches the door, she turns and pulls the book from beneath her arm, flipping it open and adjusting her glasses on her face. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m you,” she responds, fixing him with a look he knows he gives her when he’s flirting. His heart beats double-time even as he laughs. If he’s not careful, he’ll fall in love with her before they even manage to go on a date. 

Thankfully, she takes the opportunity while he’s laughing to lift the book in farewell, entering the diner and leaving him still chuckling as he moves along towards his office. 

The whole company has dressed for the spirit of the day; Robin is dressed in full Robin Hood regalia and Will as his second-hand man. They’ve been friends for so long and the joke’s been made so many times that they just go with it now. Even Anna is playing along and wearing a traditional Norwegian dress that he knows for a fact was passed down from her ancestors because she’s told him three times now. 

For the most part, however, no one seems to be doing their work. If this was a Friday, he’s willing to bet that most people would be out of the office at noon. Instead, since they’re mingling and not attempting to be productive, he’s the only one in his office trying to get something done. He gives up before lunch time, packing up Henry’s book and all his notes and heading to Granny’s, but even there the festivities seem to be lingering and he can’t seem to concentrate on anything he’s reading.

Instead, after he’s finished his early lunch, he collects the darts from the board and starts throwing, thinking back to that night out with Emma. As if thinking her name summons her, the door to the diner opens and shuts and he turns to see her scanning the restaurant before heading straight for him.

“Everything all right, Swan? Or have you come to get your second caffeine fix?”

“Something like that,” she says, taking a moment to continue. He lines up his next throw but it ends up going far off course with what she says next. “Actually, I’m here to ask you out. To dinner, or something.” The clack of the dart hitting the wall goes unnoticed as he turns slowly to look at her.

“Shouldn’t I be the one to ask you out?”

“Should’ve known you’d try to be old-fashioned about it. But we’d both be three hundred before you managed to do it. You had the perfect opening last night!” 

The whole diner seems to have paused in their activities to watch the progression of their conversation. It’s not like he can blame them, since it’s definitely not anything he was expecting to be dealt today, and they all get front-row seats to the show. Even Granny is staring at them, only turning and going back about her business with a knowing smile on her face when she notices him look at her. 

“I was trying to follow your lead,” he says incredulously, throwing his hand and hook into the air. When Emma continues to just stare at him, he drops his arms and moves closer. “I’ll happily accept on one condition: you let me plan the evening.”

“I know how to plan a date!”

“You know how to chase traffic violators and blow into my workspaces like a whirlwind. I know how to plan an evening out.”

Her expression says she knows he’s not wrong, and she bobs her head in acquiesce. 

“Well, I don’t pillage and plunder on the first date, just so you know.”

He chuckles at that, moving closer as his scoundrel side peeks out again. He regards her from beneath hooded eyes for a second. “That’s because you haven’t been out with me yet,” he says plainly, breaking the moment only a bit with a smug smile when he sees the look in her eyes. 

“Saturday,” she says after she snorts and schools her facial expressions again. “Save it for Saturday.”

“I’ll try my solid best, love.”

She rolls her eyes, but she’s laughing under her breath as she does. She turns, looking like she’s about to head to the counter but instead she moves back and kisses him solidly again. 

“See you tomorrow morning,” she tells him as she backs away.

He watches as she approaches the counter, to Granny and the softly amused look on her face. “On the house, Emma,” she tells her as she hands over a bag of food that he doesn’t think Emma even had the chance to order yet. 

She says her thanks and moves back towards the exit, turning once when she gets to the door. He’s still watching her, fiddling with one of the darts and a star-struck look on his face. He lifts his hook in a parting gesture, pleased to see her returning grin come out full force. 

The second she’s out the door, everyone goes back to exactly what they were doing. Normal conversations resume, and the sounds of cutlery hitting plates echoes around the small place once more. Even the kitchen seems to make noise again, with the cooks calling out orders and the life returning to the whole restaurant. If Killian was a betting man, he’d guess that the whole town will know of their impending date by the end of the hour. 

He keeps his word and texts her later in the day, even sending her pictures of the other employees that dressed up. In return, she sends the picture she gets later of Granny and Ruby dressed up as they get ready for trick-or-treating. Granny’s usual outfit is just topped with wolfy ears and a tail, and a frilly white apron with Ruby dressed as Little Red Riding Hood. 

In the early evening as he’s just trying to pack up and head home, Will appears in his door. 

“Did you know your girlfriend dressed up as you for Halloween?”

He almost corrects Will that Emma isn’t his girlfriend, but now that might very well be a lie. They do have a date planned and she has kissed him multiple times now, so while the words are on the tip of his tongue, he just gives a long-suffering sigh as he continues to tidy his office, diligently shutting down his computer as he responds.

“I’m aware, yes.” 

“She steal the clothes out of your closet for that?”

“Amazingly, no. She hasn’t even been to my flat yet.”

Will makes a noise at that, but he looks impressed. The fact that he doesn’t push or tease any further speaks volumes as to how fast the news has already traveled. “You comin’ out for a drink tonight?”

“Aye,” Killian responds, tucking the last of his notes into his bag and looping it over his shoulder. “Might as well. But only the one!” They do have to be at work tomorrow, and he doesn’t plan on looking exhausted out of his mind when he shows up to his meeting in the afternoon. 

He’s glad he agreed after he walks into the bar. Despite it being a Thursday, the place is packed. Among the throngs, he’s still easily able to pick out Emma, leaning across the bar so Jefferson can hear what she’s saying. The other man, doing way too good of a job dressed as the Mad Hatter, nods and hands her a bottle of water before she turns and starts heading back towards where he’s still standing. 

As soon as she spots him, she grins and yanks him in the direction of the door. 

Outside, with the noise dampened by the structure of the building, he can hear her when she greets him.

“Hello, love. Off shift yet?”

“No, but almost. I just had to warn Jefferson that a group of teenagers was overheard bragging at the diner about how real their fake IDs looked. Hey, you’re Captain Hook right now. Think you can keep an eye out for some Lost Boys and scare them off if you see them?”

“Careful, Swan. I may just try to recruit them to join my merry band of pirates so we can finally defeat that blasted Peter Pan.” He makes sure to go into the full character, letting his voice dip low in a growl and shaking his hook with vengeance. 

Emma tilts her head back, chuckling at his theatrics before dropping it back down to level him with a stare. “Also, Prince Charming and his Snow White are in that bar somewhere so if you get out of line, at least one of them is coming for you.”

“I can’t wait to see the costumes,” he admits, even as Emma takes his hook in her hand again and he forgets what exactly he was excited to see when he heads back inside. 

“Don’t get into too much trouble?”

“I’ll be the very picture of innocence.” He takes her hand gently in his, bending low and kissing the back of it, smirking up at her when he catches the look in her eyes. “Unless you want me to be otherwise, of course.”

She hums, using her grip on his hand to pull him closer so she can place a kiss on his cheek. “Be good. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Looking forward to it,” he says, waving as she starts heading back towards the station. 

By the time she returns, she looks a little frazzled and tired but relieved to see him still amongst the crowd inside. He’s spent the majority of the evening clustered at a hightop table with David and Snow, with Will and Belle popping by for bits of time. Emma happily accepts the seat Killian vacates for her, shrugging out of her jacket and throwing it over his greatcoat on the back of the chair. 

“Something to quench your thirst, Swan?”

“I’m tempted to ask for a whole bottle of rum but I’ll take a weak vodka cranberry, instead.”

He returns with the drink after a few minutes, careful of how close he stands. He doesn’t know what she’s told her brother about their progress into a relationship and he’s determined to let her do this all in her own time. 

It’s difficult, however, when she goes about rolling up her sleeves, loosening the tie around her neck and popping open a few buttons at the collar of her shirt. She rolls her neck, and when she looks at him, he can tell by her expression alone that she’s been doing it on purpose. There’s a smirk hidden in the corner of her mouth and he somehow manages to hold back the groan that’s trying to make its way out of his chest. 

If either of the others at the table notice anything, neither of their faces give it away. He’s just fine with that, though. 

It isn’t until David and Snow are occupied talking to Ariel that Emma places her chin in her hand and looks up at Killian with an innocent smile on her face. “Just a small taste of your own medicine.” He’s tempted to ask what she means by that but he sees she’s undone yet another button on the shirt and he sighs and averts his gaze. 

“One day you’ll pay for this, Swan.” When he looks at her again, she’s looking right back with a very readable expression on her face. She knows damn well what she’s doing, by the looks of it. 

This is still new. And because it’s still new, he knows that while he wants to venture into a whole sinful variety of responses to her teasing, he also knows he wants something that lasts. They have plenty of time to get to the fun parts, so for now he takes the coy behavior and slips it away with a redirection. “Tell me, love, did you ever gather up those Lost Boys that were running amok around town?” 

“Every last one of them has been taken back to their homes and tucked in for the night. And if not, it’s Phillip’s problem.”

As the evening continues, he gets pulled onto the dance floor by Emma. He knows dances - he knows the Waltz and can hold his own in a Tango if he has to, but casual dancing to a steady, heavy bass beat is a different ballroom, so to speak. 

“Come here,” she says when they get to the middle of the swaying bodies. “There’s only one rule. Pick a partner who knows what she’s doing.” 

Since he moved to Storybrooke, Killian has felt like an outsider looking in. Even with the Fridays at the bar and the new friends gained over the past months, there’s been something holding him back. But in this moment, as Emma moves to the music in front of him, this feels like him becoming a true part of the town. 

The dance they’re doing is very tame compared to some of the other couples around them, but this is a good start for him. At one point during a slower song, his eyes scan across the rest of the bar and his eyes land on Snow, her smile soft and considerate as she watches the two of them sway together. When she sees Killian looking, her smile grows wider. Then she’s grabbing David’s hand and pulling him to the dance floor, as well. 

It’s not long before Emma turns Killian’s wrist to look at his watch. She groans, resting her forehead against his chest for a moment. 

“One more song and then I’ve gotta call it a night,” she tells him.

“Agreed.”

Far earlier than he would’ve gone home on a raucous holiday in his youth, he and Emma push out of the bar and into the open, cool air. The spirit of the day follows them down the street, with Emma holding his hand and swinging their arms. 

“You know,” he starts. “I quite fancy you, Emma Swan.”

“Yeah? Enough to accept that I’m walking you home instead of the other way around this time?”

“If that’s what the lady wishes, it would be bad form to deny it.”

“I do wish it, so lead the way, Hook.”

“It does suit me, doesn’t it?”

“There’s a lot we could unpack with which version of Hook you’re trying to be.”

“You’re familiar with Barrie’s discussions about the character?”

“I liked reading as a form of escape growing up. When the internet became a thing, I kind of went on a Wikipedia bender and ended up looking up everything I could about the play. There was this kid in one of my classes that was named Peter. We all called him Pan and we got in appropriate levels of trouble whenever the teacher left the room.”

“And what happened to young Pan?”

“We don’t really know,” Emma says, her eyebrows drawing down in thought. “He was gone one day. His foster parents wouldn’t talk about it. I thought about trying to track him when I got older but decided that there are some things that shouldn’t be found.”

“Kindred spirit with reading to get through life’s challenges,” Killian says, more to change the subject than anything else. It’s clear that the subject of the past still upsets her but at least they had a major thing in common growing up. “I would read for hours after I was finished with my assignments and chores. It was a Liam-approved activity that kept me occupied and out of trouble until the trouble got into me.”

“Is that from the files of the… how did you phrase it? That sordid but charming history?”

“Aye. All of which you’ll get to hear about in a couple days if that’s where the conversation takes us.”

“We can skip all the breakup stuff, if that’s cool with you,” Emma throws in. 

Ground rules. He likes ground rules. And establishing them now means he won’t do something idiotic like pry into something she doesn’t want to discuss. And likewise, that means he doesn’t have to tell her anything about Milah, so it’s a perfect concept.

As they get closer to the end of the street, Killian nudges her a little bit. “This is me. The first floor.” He nods with his chin to indicate the charming little duplex up the short walkway. She tilts her head as she looks at it, smiling at the dark green and the small but intricate stained glass piece that makes up the window. 

He falters trying to decide if he should invite her in, spitting it out at the last second. “Would you like to come in? I have hot chocolate on hand, since I prefer it over the powdered varieties.”

“That’s what Snow always makes me,” she says with a wide smile. “And while I’d love to, I have to get home and wash the holiday out of my hair. But save me some?”

“Of course, love. Would you text me just to let me know you’ve arrived safely?”

Her grin stays put as she removes the space between them, pushing onto her toes for a moment to press her lips to his. “I can do that. Goodnight, Killian. See you tomorrow.”

His quiet tidings slip out of the dreamy look on his face, and he sighs as he watches her walk back up the sidewalk. He waits until she turns down the next street before he makes his way inside, closing and locking up before he rests against the door. 

It’s good that she didn’t agree, since most of his home is still packed away. Perhaps, he thinks, it’s time to change that.

-x- November 1: Friday

The hardest part of knowing they’re going on a date on Saturday, at least in Killian’s mind, is acting totally natural when he sees Emma Friday morning. Of course, it’s hard not to look excited and surprised when she throws off his whole routine by showing up outside his flat. She’s back to her hair flowing free, a knit cap snug over her head and a scarf wrapped around her neck. She lifts one of her gloved hands to wave to him, looking sheepish at the same time.

“Not that I’m not thrilled to see you, love, but what are you doing here?”

“Well, I figured it was pointless to make you walk by yourself when we’re going in the same direction. And the Bug is all warmed up and ready to go so those ears of yours don’t have to turn bright red again today.”

It’s only then that he realizes she’s standing in front of a yellow Volkswagen Bug, looking aged but well-tended if the soft puttering of the motor is anything to go by. 

“I’ve never been one to turn down the kind gesture of a beautiful woman,” he responds, making his way towards her from his front stoop. “And it just so happens I have one in return.” 

With care, he maneuvers his arm to shift one of the two stainless steel mugs from his protective hold and hands it over to her. 

“I was going to give you that at the corner, but I suppose now is a good time, too.”

She happily accepts the coffee, flipping the lid open so she can inhale the warm aromas before closing it up again. “Thank you,” she says on the exhale, smiling gratefully and beckoning him forward towards her car. 

“This is quite the vessel you captain, Swan.”

“Gets me from point A to point B. I take better care of it now than when I first got it.”

“There’s a story there. Going to share?”

Emma hums for a moment but says nothing else as she pulls on her seatbelt. She shifts into gear and starts making her way along the route he’s so used to walking. It goes so much faster, obviously, but then he realizes he has just a limited time to talk to Emma this way. In realizing this, his whole mind clams up and he’s at a loss for words as he watches the scenery zip by. 

“I’m having dinner at my brother’s place tonight, so I won’t be out at all,” she tells him as they get closer to their corner. “You have tomorrow planned?”

“Aye,” Killian responds, thankful for the conversation opener. “But you’ll have to wait to find out where we’re going.”

“Gonna give me any hints?”

“Wear whatever you think constitutes as nice,” he tells her. He looks at her when they stop at a red-light and she’s staring at him with her eyes narrowed, probably trying to figure out where he’s taking her. “It could be that outfit from yesterday and I’d be just fine with that. Light’s green.”

She presses her lips into a thin line, but it’s more to prevent the smile from getting any bigger. “Okay, okay. Keep your surprises.”

“I’ve every intention of doing just that,” he tells her as they pull up outside of his office building. “Until tomorrow, Swan.” He lifts her hand from the gearshift to place a kiss on her knuckles, even if it is through the fuzzy fabric of her gloves. He exits the car as gracefully as one can from such a cramped space and makes sure to give her one final wave of goodbye before she drives off.

Now to just get through a day of work with his head on straight so he can enjoy tomorrow. 

Once in his office, he sits down with his notes from the day prior and gets into the mindframe of where he needs to be for this story. Just from a quick glance at the planner in front of him shows he has a progress meeting with Robin today and another meeting with Henry on Monday. 

There’s a solid ten minutes where he sits there, frozen in his chair, staring at the words on his computer as they blur together. His life has been about routine and order for so long but lately it’s felt like a breeze of chaos has swept through it. Not that he minds, of course. The sole reason everything’s a bit less structured is because Emma brings a new adventure to his life every day.

He can remember a time when the simple act of being surprised, like he was this morning, could’ve derailed everything, but instead it was such a small but thoughtful act on her behalf and one that he finds he would invite into his life now more than ever. 

With a subtle shake of his head, he clears his mind in order to focus. Then, before he can get lost in thoughts of his date tomorrow, or what he’ll wear, or what they’ll talk about, he wades right into the next chapter of Henry’s book and lets himself be immersed. 

He reads through the chapter again, jotting down notes by hand to check consistency later. Then it’s time for the surface edits. Spelling errors and word choices, grammar and syntax. He follows through each step carefully before going back to the start of the chapter to make notes. He’s barely a page in when Will appears in his doorway with a steaming mug of coffee and a take-out bag from Granny’s. 

“Best to eat now because you’re up next in the line of meetings,” Will says as he sets the items down on the edge of Killian’s desk. Will has his own projects to tend to but he makes sure to leave some of the concept art for the cover of Henry’s book along with lunch. 

“You’re a good man, Scarlet. No matter what everyone else tells me.”

“Funny man,” Will mutters on his way out, holding up a hand in farewell as he goes back to his own side of the building. 

Killian has just finished his lunch when Robin taps on his door frame. “Ready?”

“Aye. Let me save everything I did today and we’ll get started.”

The rest of the afternoon is consumed with his meeting with Robin. He’s thankful for the freedom his boss is giving him regarding this project but it only means that this progress report goes longer than it would’ve if Robin was breathing down his neck the whole time. They sit there with their combined notes on the chapters Killian has completed and talk about what the discussion with Henry will consist of the following Monday.

Despite having a good deal of experience with editing under his belt, this is Killian’s first involvement from start to finish. It’s something he knows will get easier and smoother with time, but for now he’s already feeling the pressure to get it all just right. At the end of this tunnel comes everything else, including helping with marketing and strategy. With how young Henry is, there will be more buzz around this release than they generate for their usual authors. The road ahead is long and arduous, but one he’s absolutely willing to take.

In an astounding turn of events, Killian is one of those that ducks out of the office ahead of quitting time. He waves to Will on his way out, smirking when the other man throws up his hands in exasperation. He shrugs, pushing through the exit and welcoming the cold chill of November. 

The walk back home is a little more brisk than usual, and he’s grateful for the fact that his heat is on and working to make his house as comfortable as possible. 

He follows his own line of routines after he gets back, tucking his boots on the tray beneath his coat rack before heading to his office to put away his work. There’s a likelihood that he’ll sit down with it again later, but for now, he has every intention of going through every item of his clothing until he knows what to wear for his evening with Emma. 

Choosing his outfit for the next day derails everything else for a few moments. After dinner is in the oven, he goes to his closet and carefully selects the items, standing back and admiring the effect of each combination. The winner is one that’s not far off his usual brand, but different enough that he won’t feel like he’s going to work. And hopefully, Emma will see that, too. Pleased with his choice, he sets it aside and goes back to check on his meal.

Once he’s sitting at his kitchen table, he looks around the sparsely furnished area. Much like his office, he hasn’t done any settling in the time that he’s lived in Storybrooke. It’s not that he feels like he’ll be leaving again any time soon, but rather an inability to see the big picture of comfort here just yet. As he glances at the counters and surfaces in his respectable kitchen, however, he starts to see what he never could before and what he thought of last night: a home. 

Just after he finishes eating and cleans his dishes, he gets a text from Emma about dinner at the Nolan residence. There’s a picture of her hot chocolate, a respectable dollop of whipped cream to top it off, and he imagines what she must look like curled up in what is clearly a comfortable place for her. 

“What are you doing?” she texts a little bit later. He’s not quite sure how to respond, since there’s an absolute disorder of boxes and package filler littered around his normally pristine kitchen. 

“Creating a mess,” he sends back when he finally gets to his phone. He’s surprised when it rings right after.

“A mess?” her voice comes across, and it’s clear that he’s on speakerphone, so she must be back home already.

“An awful mess, Swan. Did you know that bubble wrap, if left alone for too long, multiplies inside the boxes you packed it away in?”

“I was unaware,” she says, clearly amused by the tone in her voice. “What are you unpacking?”

“Well, a little bit of everything. Other than some absolute necessities, my possessions have been living in boxes since they were shipped over. I’ve decided to start with the kitchen tonight, for some reason. And while everything is now out of the boxes, it’s in utter disarray until I get it all put away.”

“You finally settling in?”

“Something like that,” he says, his voice going a little soft. “Everything just seemed so orderly when I could keep a running inventory in my mind.”

There’s a momentary lull in the conversation, but he can hear Emma rustling around on the other line so he still knows she’s there.

“I was surprised you called,” he admits. On the other end, Emma huffs out a quiet laugh.

“I’m working on something. It was easier to call than text,” she tells him. “Besides, now that I finally have your number, I figured I should make up for lost time.”

“I nearly asked your brother for yours before I added it to your card,” Killian tells her. “I wasn’t sure if we were heading towards that ‘dating’ status and so I was afraid he might bite, as previously warned.”

Emma’s laugh comes across loud and clear, and he can hear the audio jostle. When she speaks again, it’s closer, and he knows she’s taken hold of the phone.

“Only if you ask him to, I told you that. I’m going to leave you to your chaotic kitchen. Don’t get so lost in it that you forget about our date.”

“As if I ever could, Swan.”

“Goodnight, Killian,” she says, her voice soft and smile evident.

“Sweet dreams, Swan.”

-x-

Chapter 6