#cos I left my glasses behind to keep them safe and I know it’s not the same thing but I felt seen

[unholyhelbig]

More firecrest pls & thank u

Title: Firecrest (Part 5/7)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Summary: Kate Bishop and y/n have an unspoken agreement that revolves around being enemies with benefits. But when Kate's new mentor is someone Y/n is very familiar with, things become complicated.

Warnings: More bad parenting, Needles, shootings (guns and mention of death), discrimination, Politics (vaguely), and horrible grammar because we all know I don't proofread.

[A/n: Woo, okay, have finally gotten my bearings on a chapter count. Two more to go folks and then all of my attention will be focused on Fright Night!]

The bourbon burned uncomfortably when you swallowed it down in two gulps. The warmth swirled in your stomach and instantly went to your head. It was a dizzy feeling, one that replaced the despair that had settled in your bones. The oaky taste was appealing enough for you to tap the edge of the glass to signal for another.

The Rusty Nail was the definition of ‘dive-bar’, with its smoke-yellowed walls and torn booth seats that frothed with foam. The bartender had a stained towel over his shoulder and replaced the beer that was in front of a man at the other end of the bar, wordlessly.

A box television that had to be from at least the early 90’s was mounted on the corner of the wall. The news played through the speakers with a cracking static. There was roadwork in the majority of Brooklyn, and coat drives taking place at every middle school in the district.

What caught your hazy attention was a photo of Lance. His smile was intoxicating to the general public, and the graph that populated next to him with winning numbers confirmed this fact. He was pulling ahead astonishingly, and even through your misery, you felt a swell of pride.

“Get a load of that guy,” The bartender hissed under his breath.

“Not a fan?”

You’d heard everything under the sun about your step-father, pointedly ignoring the negative opinions in favor for the man that cooked fantastic blueberry pancakes. His campaign relied on dissolving what remained of the Sokovia accords, and removing the restrictions that were put on Inhumans.

For you, it was easy. While a deep and dark fire brewed within you, you still looked relatively normal. Of course, you went through your teenage phases of turmoil, just like everyone else. But, there were people out there who weren’t so lucky; Inhumans that were plagued with spikes covering their entire bodies, translucent skin that displayed the entirety of their innerworkings, or the rocks that engulfed you once, never falling away at all.

Still, with the small Inhuman marking on the edge of your license, it took three times as long to get through airport security, and renting an apartment hadn’t even been a possibility without your mother co-signing. The world still feared Inhumans, just as they feared the changes that came along with them.

It had been changing for years, and Lance wanted to push things just a little further. You held out hope, but immense love for the man who had helped raised you. Though, not everyone felt the same way. A good portion of citizens opposed the man with the golden smile and kind eyes because of his stance on Inhumans.

“He’s pretty don’t get me wrong. But his stance on those… freaks? Those accords are the only thing keeping our streets safe.”

“Oh?”

“You disagree?”

You took a tentative sip of your drink. You were bone-tired and not much into political talk. It was the middle of the night, and you had just felt the adhesive of your ‘fake-dating-band-aid” get ripped from your skin. It left a stinging discomfort behind.

You shrugged “I don’t think they’re hurting anyone.”

The bartender narrowed his eyes and scoffed. He took your empty glass and didn’t offer to refill it. He probably thought you were drunk, and while you were a little tipsy at best, your position on what you were, what so many people around you hid, stayed the same. It worried you, the target that Lance had on his back because of this.

“What about that shooting?”

“The one committed by a human?

This silenced him, though he wore his frown on his sleeve. It had been so quick, blasted all over the news. A father of a teenager had walked into the pizza place where his son worked and opened fire. He’d found out earlier in the day, that his son was an Inhuman, exposed to the same chemicals you were. Three people died, including the shooter, but it was spun in a way that was unforgiveable.

You held you tongue, instead, throwing your money on the counter. You’d come here to get away from the chaos of your own mind. It had dulled the anxieties to an extent, but what was taken away was soon replaced with annoyance.

Your apartment was, of course, empty upon your return. Keys were set on the end table by the door and you flicked on the nearest light so you could avoid the furniture that you thought about moving every single day. It was lonely here. Cold in a way that went beyond a thermostat.

Sleeping was well out of the question, so you skimmed the bookshelf placed on the far side of the room and grabbed the piece of literature that was most appealing. You saw no point in keeping books that didn’t pull you in within the first hundred pages, but there was a staple few that you kept no matter what.

You’d picked up a worn copy of Pride and Prejudice. You thumbed through the pages, letting it fan the sharp sourness of old paper. The last time you’d read it, you only made it halfway through, and the makeshift bookmark that fell out landed on your lap.

You abandoned the book as quickly as you picked it up in favor for the page marker. It was an old, folded photo. As if pouring salt into the wound, it was one of the only known photos of you and Kate together. Her smile beamed at the camera, one arm around your shoulder and the other holding up the middle finger. 

The two of you were standing on the docks at rented cabin that your families shared. Usually, you didn’t run into the Bishops, but one fateful year, your leisure time had aligned. Eleanor wanted to take a nice photo. You never knew if it was for the masses, or for her own pleasure, but Kate ruined every single shot with her shit-eating grin and obscene gestures.

It had been creased right down the middle, a sloppy split in the glossed parchment. A tear had dripped from your chin and landed on the edge, your throat suddenly tight. You didn’t bother wiping them away, or picking up the discarded copy of Pride and Prejudice when it hit the carpet with an undignified thump.

You were sobbing by the time you decided to fold the photo back up. That was as far as you had gotten, really. Slumped back in a worn loveseat and letting the tears that had been building all day well-up and soak your collar. It wasn’t a pretty sight, and your chest ached fiercely.

It angered you, that all of this was about Kate Bishop, of all people.

It should be Clint that brought on the wealth of emotions. And in a way, it was. It had always been. The archer had discarded you as a young child, and you supposed you should be thankful for that. You were privileged, especially compared to the poor boy in the pizza shop. But the scars still lingered horribly.

You landed softly, and most of that had been because of Kate. The anger and distress that came with the situation was always dampened by her stormy eyes and her pension for doing good. It rebelled against the Bishop protocol and after a long while, you realized she was different. Kinder. Clumsier. More dedicated.

She knew what she wanted, just as well as she knew what you needed. In moments of anger, she’d distract you with her innate ability to drive you crazy with competition. In panic, she had a softer touch that soothed you into extinguishing volatile flames.

Sleeping with her had been a bad idea. You knew if from the start, but preened at her deeper attention, at the way her hands felt against you, breath fanning warmly across your cheeks and then your chest. For her, you were a release. For you, she was everything.

You were in love, with Kate, mother fucking, Bishop.

It weighed your shoulders down, labored your breathing. But strangely, you felt no flames. The warmth that usually accompanied strong emotions such as these wasn’t there. For the first time, in a long time, you succumbed to sadness. Just sadness.

The cobalt of Kate’s dress illuminated the blue ringlets in her iris’s. They caught the light of the chandelier in the lobby. They were crystal, hanging low but secured tightly to the ceiling. Almost as tight as the dress that Kate wore.

You were clad in a tailored suit, loosely buttoned black fabric a lace corset that matched the cobalt of Kate’s cocktail dress. She’d sent you the color combination in a single word text. Blue. And you’d followed her instructions perfectly, matching her wavelength like always.

For extra measure, you put on a dainty stainless steel arrow necklace. It showed commitment, it was just short of showing your misery. Kate’s eyes canned from your toes to your own stare and you barely suppressed the shivers that came with her scrutiny.

She figured it would be better to face this on a united front and arrive together. She let out a quiet huff of indignance and folded her arm enough for you to loop your own through it. Her warmth, her comfort, no matter how scarce, was overwhelming and threatened to bring back the tears.

That wasn’t what tonight was about. Tonight was about having a united front, about being endlessly in love to make your parents uncomfortable. You weren’t quite sure what Kate was getting out of this and she wasn’t about to tell you either.

The elevator ride up was uncomfortable. She’d never been this quiet for this long before.

“Kate,”

“No.” She clenched her jaw, voice a low whisper despite it only being the two of you and the slowly climbing lift. “For once, y/n, don’t say a word.”

Your eyes met hers in the reflective paneling and you gave her a small nod. The silence had suddenly become heavier, deeper. Your hand curled up in your jacket pocket before you diverted your gaze. The only mercy was the elevator reaching the penthouse, a muffled ‘ding’ proceeding the doors sliding open to her foyer.

The archer had pulled her shoulders back and had a soft smile on her face. There was a sadness behind her eyes that anyone else would have to dig for, but you could see it from a mile away. She was hurting as much as you were but wasn’t going to show it.

You did just the same, working the tension from your features as the scent of lamb coated your lungs and made your stomach clench. You’d always hated the dish, but it was a staple of the Bishop family chef so you powered through it every time.

She smoothed her hand over your jacket sleeve as the two of you stepped out of the elevator. It almost scared you how perfectly she fit into this role. It was the flip of a switch. You were uncomfortable with the thought of it being in your favor. You couldn’t feel the love behind her gestures, because they were just that. Gestures.

“Ready?” She asked.

“Ready.” You replied.

The mechanical whir of the elevator had attracted the attention of those who had already arrived. You’d been in Kate’s house once or twice, enough to count on only one hand. But, you knew the layout fairly well. Her apartment was open concept, and this had a million intersecting walls and corridors.

The two of you passed the dining room and entered something you could only describe as a sitting room, maybe a study with the large oak bookshelves, dusty and untouched. The walls were a Spanish moss green and the hardwood covered by an oriental rug.

Eleanor wore a blood red dress, and Jack had a matching silk pocket square. Clint was the only one that stood out among all of you. He wore a nice dress shirt that was tucked into black pants, he looked cleanly pressed and perfect for a Bishop dinner party.

He held a glass of whiskey, and Jack was pouring one more. He gave you a beaming, and wholly innocent smile, his mustache lifting at the sides. “Miss Morse! Katie!”

You felt Kate stiffen next to you at the name, her jaw clenching. Instinctively, your hand covered hers, thumb ghosting over the scarring on her knuckles. Her shoulders seemed to lower, and that breath smelled of the familiar wintergreen.

“Darling,” Eleanor moved forward and placed phantom kisses against both of Kate’s cheeks before moving to do the same with you. “Let me get a good look at you both.”

“Mom, you’ve seen us before.”

“Not like this. It’s different. Before it was just rumors, and speculation. Annoying, isn’t it? But now, we can spin this anyway we want to.”

Kate gave her mother a tight smile. “We’re not a press opportunity”

“Not so easy to say when you’ve already been all the press can talk about.” She shrugged and took the glass from Jacks hand. “You know, at first, I thought this was horrible. But people seem to like you both.”

There was something on the tip of her tongue that wanted to escape. A God Know’s why or a couldn’t be me. But she said neither and an uncomfortable silence fell over you all. Kate subconsciously tightened her fingers against your arm once more, and the pressure was nearly soothing.

Your eyes met Clint’s across the room, and you got hit with the familiar feeling of your world tilting in a nauseating way. He offered up a small smile, the only one he could muster within these last few chaotic weeks.

He waved at Kate, not enthusiastically, a neutral and awkward expression of affection. Kate let out a long breath, retracting her arm and similarly placing her hand on the small of your back. She needed a grounding technique, just as much as you did.

Eleanor sensed the tension and announced that it was time for dinner. The scent of the lamb came rolling back in crashing waves. Upon entering the dining room, you were positive that the woman hadn’t cooked this meal herself.

A linin table cloth was punctuated with candles, bathing the room in a dull yellow light. There were different platters piled with dripping meat, and steaming mashed potatoes. Glasses of red wine rested next to the salads situated on gold plating.

Fire crackled within the large stone hearth that you’d never seen lit. It seemed almost directed, sitting in front of the warm, smoldering flames. Across from you was Eleanor and Jack, Clint right in between them. Jack seemed particularly fond of the man, similarly entrapped by his accomplishments as the rest of the world.

“Everyone, dig in” Eleanor prompted “No need to be so formal.”

“Right,” Kate cleared her throat, picking up fork and chasing a cherry tomato with the prongs. “How is everyone?”

You winced at the pathetic attempt at small talk, staring down at your own wilted greens. It was a valiant effort that was promptly ignored by everyone else at the table.

“Y/n, why don’t you tell us more about yourself?” Eleanor asked.

Kate gave you a look that intimately read as you don’t have to entertain her. “You know all about Y/n. We grew up together.”

“From fifth grade onward. I remember when your mom enrolled you. You kept deliberately ripping your uniform until she agreed to pants. Same thing happened with Katherine. But now that you and my daughter are involved, I’d like to know more.”

She took a sip of her wine, and your fingers brushed over the glass base of your own glass. But you didn’t pick it up. You’d decided last night, sometime between showering off the scum of the dive-bar and propping a window in your apartment to get some fresh air, that you needed a clear head for something like this.

You cleared your throat. “Well, uh, what would you like to know?”

“Where you grew up!” Jack cut in fantastically, talking around a mouth full of vegetation, waving his fork around like a madman “Your favorite color, if you have any pets!”

Your stare flicked to Clint, but he was staring down at his untouched food. He didn’t know the answer to any of these questions and the stinging bile that threatened to push past your lips was instantly swallowed back down in favor of your dignity.

“I moved around a lot as a kid, my mom traveled for work a lot so we were never in one place for too long. Amsterdam, Delhi, Perth. The best place though, was a small desert town in Arizona. There weren’t many people there and it could get to about a hundred degrees by the time the sun was at it’s highest point. But it was peaceful, and beautiful.”

Clint was watching you carefully now. He’d been there too. It was one of the last places you’d traveled together as a family. There was a small strip of old wooden structures that reminded you of the wild west, cutting through the orange of the desert. Murals were painted against the rocky structures, writhing snakes, swallowing the sun, and fire shimmering over it’s scales.

It was captivating during the day, but even better at night. It was the clearest you had ever seen the stars. Blankets of twinkling constellations and milky ways that you’d never seen before. Your neck started to ache from staring up at it for so long, and it was Clint who had laid a blanket in the bed of his truck and laid next to you to view them.

He’d taught you about the different formations, and of course, his favorite, the Sagittarius. An archer that sacrificed his own mortality for the sake of his sons. It seemed ironic now. But then, it had made you feel like the most important girl in the world.

“A dusty old desert town over the streets of Amsterdam?” Eleanor seemed to find amusement in this, piercing a slice of carrot with the prongs of her fork. It gave a satisfying snap. “Interesting.”

“It was peaceful” You shrugged, finally giving in and taking a warm sip of wine. “The last time we were together as a family.”

“Is that right?”

Eleanor was enjoying herself too much and Kate’s hand nervously went to the charm around her own neck. You hadn’t noticed it before, trying to be respectful. Trying not to let your eyes wander during an irreparable time.

She looked best in gold and knew that from a young age. The chain was dainty, and the pendant was a whisp of a flame. It made your mouth go dry and you wondered if it was a conscious decision, just like the one you had made to grab the only necklace with an arrow.

“I remember that place.” Clint spoke up for the first time. “It was called Chloride. Weird name for a town.”

You were too transfixed on Kate’s fingers running over the curvature of the necklace to care. Her cheeks took on a red tint in the glow of the candles. She removed her hand and found yours on top of the table. It was damp, but a solid force.

“You were afraid of scorpions in your shoes and made me and your mom check and double check them before you even thought of putting them on. You usually went barefoot, which was more dangerous than just wearing the shoes.”

“Is this your idea of an olive branch?”

The words left your mouth without thinking, and they were pumped with venom. You couldn’t help it. Your stomach was already rolling unsteadily and his words, though soaked with kindness, were far from merited. Kate’s mother sat back with an almost giddy look on her face. She’d been expecting this.

Kate tightened her grip inadvertently, and you could feel the small sting of her nails carving crescents into your palm. You wholly expected her gaze to be narrowed at you, but it was transfixed on Clint. There was a hardness there that she had harbored for you earlier in the week.

You let out a strangled breath and stared down at your salad. It wasn’t worth it. None of this felt worth it. In a strange way, you were absolutely defeated, and the wilted lettuce was much more interesting than satisfying Eleanor Bishop’s sick need for chaos.

“No. of course not.” His expression betrayed a sadness that pulled uncomfortably at your chest. “Just a memory, is all.”

“Do you know what I remember?”

Kate rumbled softly, a noise that was every bit the warning to you. Let it go. She worried incessantly about the fire under your fingertips. Possibly more than yourself in moments like these. But there was no itching beneath your skin. For once, it was just a storm of sorrow. Sweat was forming on your brow and Kate’s grip shifted to your wrist, finger pressed plainly to your pulse.

“The look in your eyes when you walked away. I was just a kid, but that was the first time I ever learned about betrayal. For months, Clint, months I would sit by the window and wait for you to come back. It didn’t matter where we were, what country, what city, I would wait. I was certain that you would find us and we could be a family again.”

He clenched his knife and fork on either side of his plate, his knuckles turning a sickly type of white that nearly echoed yellow, his whisper was broken. “I’m… sorry. I understand that you need someone to blame, kid.”

“Blame?” You let out a dry laugh, standing with enough force to push the chair back with a strangled screech. “You think this is about blame? That’s a simple emotion to work through. This is about which one of you was willing to stick around when things got hard, and which one of you ran to a new family.”

The silence was deafening. Eleanor lifted her wine glass and hid her vicious smirk behind the seductive red liquid. Jack had directed his tender stare to Kate, no-doubt deciding then and there to be a good stepfather for more than a few moments at a time.

You sucked in a heavy breath before shaking your head and leaving the room. It wasn’t difficult to navigate the Bishop penthouse, with it’s dark open-concept layout. You needed air. It was much too hot in the dining room and you’d begun to sweat through your layers of clothing.

The balcony connected to the family room lacked decoration. It was a stone ledge that caught the cold drafts of high winds, drying the sweat against your skin instantly. You swallowed enough frigid air to burn your throat, but the tears refused to come. You couldn’t cry anymore.

Your head hung over the edge of the balcony, a strange dizziness washing over you as you stared down at the passing traffic, hundreds of unblinking eyes that lit up the night. You wish you had the foresight to grab the glass of wine, or something stronger from Jacks secret stash.

The temperature had dropped significantly by the time you heard the sliding glass door open. You didn’t bother turning around. Not with the subtle evergreen scent. “Tell Eleanor I’m sorry for ruining dinner.”

“Ruining?” Kate chuckled softly. Warmth engulfed you as she draped a blanket over your shoulders. You grasped the frayed edges out of habit and tugged it closely around you. “She lives for the drama of it all. She expected this, I think you’ve actually made her year.”

She leaned against the balcony, letting her hands hang over the edge. She looked ethereal in the moonlight, pale and beautiful. The tell-tale anger that had been etched into her features earlier was surrendered. You caught the glint of her bracelet and nervously brought your own hand up to the cool arrow charm that rested against your collarbone.

“It’s frustrating, isn’t it? Waiting for someone to apologize?”

The corner of your lips lifted into a smile. “Very subtle, Katie.”

“I’m giving you an opening here.”

You sighed heavily and turned just enough to get a better look at her. She always knocked the breath out of you in an almost cruel way. Her eyes held a tenderness that was unmatched. She was patient with you, just like she had always been.

“This entire time, I’ve been chasing after an apology from Clint., one that he’s too proud to give. It’s easy to be consumed by something like that, but that’s no excuse to hurt you in the process.” You swallowed heavily, trying to curb the dryness in your throat.

You couldn’t look at her. The mere sight of the curve of her jaw, the softness of her demeanor despite her deep seeded anger, would be too much. Kate effectively knocked you off your feet every single time she spared you a glance. If you were going to get this out in the open, you’d much rather stare at the traffic below.

 “Katie, I can’t begin to describe how much you mean to me. We’ve always had this unspoken rivalry and for the longest time I couldn’t figure it out. Why couldn’t we both just be good at the same things without vying against one another?”  

You let out a wounded sigh, fingers digging into the stone balcony. “I never understood why I wanted to beat you so badly, and I don’t know where along the way that changed. But I’ve realized recently that it was never about beating you. It was about making you proud.”

Her breath had caught, a subtle noise that you noticed due to proximity. Her hand was atop yours, much like it was at dinner, somehow warmer than your own. She didn’t say anything, and you didn’t lift your gaze to meet hers. Your cheeks were enflamed with blush that you could blame on the two sips of wine you had.

“Deep down, I’ve always known that I’ve been in love with you since that first kiss at archery camp. I don’t expect you to feel the same, but I was doing more damage hiding it from you than putting it out there. You have to understand, Katie, I never meant to hurt you the other day. I’m just so used to burying it down, to keeping my emotions stifled for the greater good, that I didn’t know what to say… how to say it.”

She was rendered speechless herself and you could feel your vision start to blur at the edges, the lights from lines of city traffic suddenly fuzzy. You were never a fan of heights, but the sudden sloppy confession was much more daunting than the prospect of falling thirty stories.

“Oh,” Kate rasped.

You clenched your eyes shut until you saw stars. She’d never been a girl of little words, and you felt your heart rate increase. It pounded listlessly, preparing for rejection that you knew typically followed her silence.

None of that came, however, instead was the slightest pinprick against the side of your neck. You would have figured it nothing more than a mosquito if the weather hadn’t taken an icy turn. But this was different, this alerted your senses in one fail swoop.

Your eyes snapped open and narrowed at Kate in time to register the emptying of the syringe she’d pushed past your skin. A sickly green liquid that already stung terribly as it started to pulse through your veins.

“A lovely sentiment, I’m sure.” She pouted in a mocking way, lilting her head to the side as she pulled the needle from the side of your neck. Your fingers pressed against the area to quell the foreign sensation.

You were suddenly incredibly dizzy, the pulsing of your vision matching with the frantic beating of your heart. You were losing strength quickly, clinging to the stone balcony for some type of solace. You fell all the same, collapsed at its corner with quick breaths of panic.

Kate was suddenly crouched in front of you. She lifted your chin until you could stare into her eyes. They were cold, emotionless. “Maybe one day, you’ll be able to tell her.”

Her thumb brushed lightly over your cheek. It was so familiar, yet incredibly foreign. Your thoughts were muddled, non-existent as the heavy sensation took over. She seemed to revel in your confusion, in the pain that she’d so easily inflicted.

Kate’s disconnected stare was the last thing you saw before darkness swallowed you whole in an odd type of comfort, the world ceased to flicker, like the edges of a flame.

Tag List💕: @noturlondonboy, @slvtformaria, @pianogirl2121, @escapereality4music, @cyberbonesworld, @dark-hunter16

[supernatural-bias]

𝐀𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐞𝐬

↳ summary: in which crowley has a cold

↳ warnings: none!

↳ song: like real people do—hozier

masterlist!

Spring was a wonderful time of year all over the world. It was when the sun peaked its head out from behind fluffy clouds and let the flowers bloom, washing away any gloom winter might have left behind.

Walkways suddenly became full of pedestrians meandering about in city's and small towns alike. Large puffy parkas were shed in favor of light jackets and shorts.

Shops were suddenly bustling with all sorts of people out and about, taking advantage of the beautiful weather to buy a coffee or new pair of pants.

But in Soho, London, one shop seemed to be an outlier.

If any of the passing foot traffic had taken a moment to peak into the glassy windows of said shop, an elegant sign reading Fell & Co hanging over their heads, they would have had the pleasure of seeing three very different people all talking to each other idly.

Even if the conversation was anything but.

"Really Aziraphale, you think he'd be a bit less chatty when sick. Peace and quite for once an all that."

A light gasp sounded from your left, prompting you to look at the angel next to you.

"That is not nice!" Aziraphale said your name full of disappointment, prompting an apologetic smile to spread across your lips.

"Sorry, mate. But I'm not wrong, am I?" You said while continuing to help him shelf books.

"Bite me." A lump of blankets behind you growled in response, a head of red hair poking out of one end.

"No, thank you, Crowley. I'll catch your cold."

It was supposed to have been a normal day. You had called and asked Aziraphale if this afternoon was a good day to pop in for a visit, only to be met with the sort of panic that could only be described as fretting.

Apparently, Crowley has never taken too well to the springtime. Who knew a demon could have allergies?

Each time he or Aziraphale attempted to miracle away the cold, it would just pop back up a few seconds later. It was as if someone had cursed him with a mild inconvenience. You wouldn't be too surprised if that was the case, actually. I mean, this is Crowley you're talking about. He's not exactly the best at making friends—even if he did manage to snag you somehow.

By the time you had arrived at the bookstore, swinging open the door as the closed signed clattered against it loudly, they had given up on any thought of magical remedies.

So here you were. Hovering over the sick demon with a concerned look. Er, well, Aziraphale was. You had opted for more of a quirked eyebrow, not willing to show how worried you were just yet. Lord, er Satan, or whoever the fuck knows Crowley wouldn't let you live that down.

"If anything Crowley—" You paused for a moment to flip the book you had been holding upside down into its rightful place before handing it off to Aziraphale, "—I'd say this is karma from all those times you yell at your plants."

"To hell with my damn plants!" He sniffled, sun glasses no longer on his face as he glared at your back.

Before you could get a word in edgewise, a sneeze sounded out from the couch. Without even looking, your knee-jerk reaction kicked in.

"God bless you."

You got two very different reactions out of that.

Aziraphale practically beamed at your words, and Crowley hissed as if physically hit, curling in on himself. It wasn't until you stopped to consider what you had just said that you realized your blunder.

"Sorry." You cringed. "Forgot about the demon stuff."

"Forgot? Remind me, angel, why do we even keep them around." Crowley spat, pulling yet another blanket onto his ever growing pile. You risked a glance back at him only to be met with slitted eyes. You simply let out a nervous laugh before scooting to a different bookshelf farther away from him. Better safe than sorry when it came to your demon friend.

"Because we like them, remember? They complimented my vest and your Bently, and then you asked if we could keep them." The angel responded. If he noticed how you choked on air at that last bit, he didn't choose to say anything.

"He said what now?" You coughed harshly at the same time Crowley groaned.

"Yeah yeah. A mistake in the heat of the moment." Was all he said before retreating further into the blanket burrito he had concocted. Somewhere in there was a quilt you were sure Aziraphale had knitted for him centuries ago, but you chose not to point out the tiny detail, instead filing that information away for later as a hidden smile played at your lips.

"As much fun socializing with you two is, I must admit you need to get some rest, Crowley. If we are to fix this problem without a miracle, the human way will have to do." Aziraphale turned to face his companion after you helped file the last pile of books away. You were quick to follow his actions.

Crowley opened his mouth as if to retort, but his eyes flickered from your face and Aziraphales for just a moment. With that he muttered something under his breath and turned over grumpily.

"Just—bugger off." His words were muffled by a dense pillow currently being smooshed to his face. You couldn't tell if it was that or something else, but his voice didn't sound as venomous as it normally did when talking to you.

"Alrighty then!" Aziraphale clapped his hands with a smile, none the wiser. "Ring if you need us, won't you?"

With that, he began to politely exit in the direction of the back of the store. Probably to go read a new series he just got in or re-read another.

You shuffled off behind the angel—only pausing at the entrance to the backroom after taking one more look back at Crowley.

Without saying a word, you took your phone out and set the volume just high enough to be heard. Setting it down on a nearby surface, you pressed play before quickly tip toeing out the room. As if that would stop the fallen angel from figuring out who left it there.

You slipped away just in time to miss Freddy Mercury's voice start-up. As well as the way Crowley smiled in spite of himself, starting to feel a little better already.

[the-dragon-hearted]

Fairy Tail but they're all on bad reality cable shows

Some Reporter Guy: So, Mavis, how do you keep yourself looking so young? The ladies want to know -

Mavis: *smiling at the camera*

Acnologia: what kind of question is that? The ladies?? Young... What - whY would you -

Mavis: Well, first you have to commit a mortal sin against God.

*Question pops up on the board*

*Both Natsu and Gajeel slam their button*

Natsu: 43!!

Gajeel: THEY ASKED FOR A PRESIDENT -

Erza: Now when baking a cake. It is important to utilize the utmost care when stirring your batter.

Jellal: babe. Babe... babe you're killing the batter. BABE! BABE, I THINK YOU DID IT! E R Z A IT'S ON THE CEILING STOP STIRRING

Mira: And on today's episode of "Help, I have a stalker" we have long-time guest Gray Fullbuster. How's the situation been going, Gray?

Gray: Ima be honest, idk how I got here.

Mira: Oh?

Gray: Yeah, Juvia said to hop in the car and I kind of just went with it.

Mira: Juvia... your... stalker?

Gray: Oh yeah she moved in. She kept breaking my locks and it was getting annoying.

Makarov: And now, our largest jackpot yet, but who will win the prize?

Cana: It's obviously me, I'm going to buy so much booze once I'm out of here

Mira: ya know, I could use a bit of extra income, just to stay safe.

Lucy: TAKE THAT MONEY AND I'LL ACTUALLY KILL YOU I NEED TO PAY RENT -

*A new question appears*

*Natsu lunges for the button and slams it*

Natsu: "43!!"

Gajeel *slamming his head": oh my GOD STOP ANSWERING, THEY ASKED FOR A SONG TITLE - WE'RE GONNA LOSE

Happy: So... Gildarts. The tests are in

Gildarts: *Nervously sweating*

Happy: You...

Gildarts: *chewing his nails*

Happy: Are...

Gildarts: *hyperventilating*

Happy: Not. The Father.

Gildarts: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

Jet: Hi there everyone, and welcome back to a new episode of "Are They Gay?"

Freed: *direct eye contact with camera* Yes. There we go. Show over.

Droy: No... unless it's Jet. Like I'd kiss Jet, but like in a bro way...

Laxus: *shoves camera away*

Macao: I love woman. I LOVE woman

Jet: *behind the camera* isn't Wakaba co-parenting with you?

Macao: And? A bro can't move in and help raise a kid anymore? Come on Jet, I thought you were more progressive then that -

Natsu: *pressing the button* the answer is 43!!

Gajeel: *leaning over his stand, actively restraining himself* If you press that button and say 43, one more damn time... I will break 43 of your bones - and then eat them.

Charle: And going to rank #3 on the list of People I Hate, we have Loke.

Loke: WHAT!?

Wendy: Charle, NO-

Charle: HE KNOWS WHAT HE DID

Like: I DON'T ACTUALLY -

Charle: YOU TOLD MY CHILD ABOUT ALL OF YOUR LITTLE ONE-NIGHT STANDS YOU LITTLE SHIT-

Wendy: Im not your child! I hatched you out of an egg!

Loke: *Insulted* Whoa whoa whoa, I didn't tell her ALL of them! And I left out all the important details!

Charle: I WILL MOVE YOU TO RANK 2 SO HELP ME-

Porlyusica: *At the judge's stand, reading glasses on, skimming through summaries*

Zeref: *Takes the stand*

Porlyusica: *slamming the gavel* Jail. She was hundreds of years younger than you

Lyon: *Takes the stand*

Porlyusica: *gavel slam* Jail. She is too young for you.

Bora: *Takes the stand*

Porlyusica: *gavel slams twice* Jail. And more Jail just in case that wasn't enough.

Mest: *Taking the stand nervously* "Hi... "

Porlyusica: *stares at the camera* I want this man executed immediately. And if you won't do it I will. Look at Wendy again, and I'll skin you alive.

Natsu: *slamming the button* 43!!

Gajeel: THAT'S IT! I'M KILLING HIM!! I DON'T CARE HOW MANY YEARS I SERVE-

Gameshow host: That is correct! 43 is indeed the answer and with that, you've won the jackpot!

Natsu: *grinning* See! I knew it was gonna work eventually

Gajeel: *rolling his sleeves up* Oh fuck no you're still dying -

Jellal: Erza, maybe we should take on a self defense show instead of a baking show -

Erza: Maybe you should go make a show with your fiance.

[atarathegreat]

Dabi-My Woman

Dabi wasn't the type to protect people, let alone watch them work. But that woman, somehow she'd managed to fuck up his internal wiring. She'd changed who he thought he was.

It was supposed to be another simple house robbery, in and out with all the valuables he could grab. The last thing the guy had expected was for the meek victim to come out of the shadows and take him down as she screamed like a banshee. Dabi thought he'd seen her cower at bugs and jump at loud noises, but the woman that had him pinned to her floor wasn't who he'd watched. Her whole demeanor was different.

"Hold still, Mio! If I fall from up here I will never let you live it down! And neither would Tanaka!" Y/n was sat on her co-workers shoulders as she tried to rewrite the specials list for the bar, Dabi didn't miss the way the other man tightened his grip on her thighs, "I'm putting Hurricane Shots back up for Tanaka, she said she's been having a bad week."

The man, Mio, chuckled from his place between her legs, "Work hasn't been too easy and the other employees are assholes, bad is an understatement. She's getting trashed tonight for sure."

It irked the man in the corner that his girl was so comfortable on another man's shoulders. He wanted to set the worker on fire and walk out with Y/n, keep her all to himself. To his dismay she was great friends with Mio and his girlfriend Tanaka.

Her laughter pulled him from his murder plotting, the way her crop top showed more stomach than he liked as she stretched to get off the man. It only made him grumpier as he approached the bar. More indecent thoughts flooded his mind as the other male got closer to Y/n.

There weren't many other patrons, just a table of middle aged women with wine and guys drinking beer while watching some games. He didn't mind how empty it was at the moment, though he knew it was going to get busier as it got later. Most people just wanted a nightcap and sometimes he could relate.

"You know Boss Lady got super pissed the last time we tried to make it easier for ourselves to do anything." Mio scoffed as he leaned against the opposite side of the counter, "Her aesthetics are kinda dangerous, don't you think?"

Dabi slammed his whiskey glass down, catching both workers attention, "Why don't you quit, then? If it's not safe I wouldn't see the point in staying."

Y/n giggled, "Boss Lady just wants things to look nice, is all. I love working here, getting to rile up the drunks and then there's Tanaka in general."

Tanaka, as far as Dabi had seen, was a nice woman. She got close with Y/n fairly quickly from what he'd been able to find out. The two ladies often flirted while Y/n worked, Dabi hadn't minded at first, then Tanaka had started kissing her.

Dabi grumbled, holding his glass out for more alcohol and waiting until Y/n was out of earshot, "Listen, she's my girl. Touch her even one more time and I'll make sure your skin feels like sand paper until you die."

Mio kept his distance during her shift, it was his girlfriend that Dabi ended up having to watch. Tanaka was already so shit faced and handsy, he wasn't surprised in the slightest when she had asked Y/n for a Hurricane Shot. He couldn't keep his eyes off the way Tanaka held Y/n's waist and welcomed the water and the slap that followed. The glass in his hand nearly broke when the two kissed, Y/n pulling away and wiping at the saliva that was left on her lips. The whole bar was erupting in cheers and it aggravated the vigilante.

He wanted to cause a scene and drag her out from behind the counter, but he stayed in his seat until her shift ended. The small bar was empty and Dabi trudged after her while she cleaned tables. Y/n hummed, shaking her hips to the music being played while she cleaned. She never got to finish her cleaning.

Y/n was cussing at him the whole walk to her place, swearing that if she got fired he would never hear the end of it. Dabi was already aware that he wouldn't, he'd even had a plan to hide her with him wherever he went. Only if it came to that, though.

"Do you know how much I love that job? Mio and Tanaka are my best friends and working there is the most convenient way to see them! You'll be really lucky if he can leave Tanaka to finish cleaning the tables!" She jerked free once inside her apartment, pulling her phone out, "God, you've been unbearable all night! Following me like a lost puppy and now this? What's next?"

Dabi tossed her phone away when she was done texting, shoving her against the wall, "Listen, puppet, I don't give a damn about that job or those people. I do give a damn about you being kissed by those other people."

Before she could retort with anything even remotely sassy, he kissed her, the same way the other woman had but less sloppy. Dabi loved the way she initially tensed up and the way she relaxed and let him take control. He was aware that she could easily turn the tables and he only hoped he wouldn't have to get rougher with her.

"Dabi?" She pushed him away, breathing heavily as she spoke, "Please don't make me lose my job, I really love working there. And you get to sit and make sure no one bothers me."

"So you like me watching you?" He chuckled, moving to kiss her shoulder, "Such a strange little puppet I've found."

Y/n rolled her eyes but still hugged the taller man, "You do realize that my defeating you was pure luck, right? My only plan revolved around the element of surprise."

"Hmm, you really are full of surprises. Don't worry, I'll make sure you don't get fired. For tonight, however, you're my puppet." He smirked, lifting her just to drop her on the couch, "I want all of your attention, I don't care what we do. I'm sick of seeing the way you look at everyone else. Just look at me."

[oh2e]

We all know there are a dozen iconic and fantastic scenes in Black Sails but I don’t think I’ve come across anyone talking about in series 1 when they board the Andromache and it’s Dufresne’s first time and he’s so scared and he carefully takes off his glasses and we see all the horror through his eyes because that could be him and then the sound mutes and he jumps and someone falls and it goes in and out of focus and then he’s over and he gets splattered with blood and his shot misses and there’s a man firing right into his face and then they’re rolling around the floor and Dufresne has the disadvantage and we think that’s it but then the other man is on the floor and Dufresne just launches himself at the man and tears out his throat with his teeth

Like. Wow.

And we are just left on the shot of the blood spurting out of his neck and then we see the blood and the flies and Dufresne’s alive! DRENCHED with blood but alive and he’s so happy that he’s “a real pirate” and he gets a tattoo and shaves his head and tries to be all tough because fuck me if he doesn’t deserve it but yeah. I just love that sequence.

[kendsleyauthor]

Eleven Hours: Part One

Dark Future AU (Shot in the Dark)

~4000 words

Warnings: Captivity, dehumanization, general peril

Summary: After nearly a year of living as a captive fairy in a menagerie, Oliver is finally on the brink of escape. However, a betrayal leads to a drastic change of plans. As he struggles to find safety, he encounters Cliff and must decide whether or not to put his life in the hands of a human.

Co-written by the lovely @marydublinauthor​ 🌸

🌿  Eleven Hours Masterpost 🌿

Winter had fully set in. It had been drizzling on and off all week, which made the night air all the more biting. And yet, Oliver couldn’t keep the grin off his face. It was the same grin his siblings had once referred to as that idiotic smile you get right before you’re about to do something fucking stupid.

He pushed that thought aside. Better not to think about his siblings.

There had been very little reason to smile for the better part of a year. But finally, finally, things were about to change. He was getting out. He had suffered his last day at the menagerie. No more glass case. No more gigantic stares gawking at him for merely existing.

Oh, you love the attention, his sister’s voice teased at the back of his mind. He blinked hard. Don’t think about them.

“Not as much as you love to be a catty bitch,” he told the air anyway.

“What did you say?” one of the other fairies asked behind him.

Oliver tore his eyes away from the opening of the tent flap to glance behind him. “Not you. Talking to my sister.” The fairy frowned and tried to look past him, but Oliver shrugged matter-of-factly. “Oh, she’s not here. She’s super dead.”

“Ah. Right.”

He was left alone after that, for some reason.

Peeking further out of the tent, Oliver searched for any sign of movement. The menagerie grounds were strewn with trash. The animals had been locked up for the night in their own tents and cages. Almost all of the staff and management were in town for the night while Grady was left behind to keep an eye on things.

Grady, the only human who was decent. The only one who was willing to risk everything to get them to freedom. He had played his part well that day, grumbling about the nightwatch duty to his coworkers. It was all going according to plan.

Tonight was the night he would finally help the fairies get far, far away from this place.

None of them were caged tonight, but Grady told them to stay inside the tent in case another worker showed up unexpectedly. Plus, it would keep them all together and ensure that no one was left behind.

Grady had gone out to keep an eye out for Cliff, the person who was supposed to take them to a safe house for fairies. Oliver had heard whispers about it before, but it never seemed real until now. However, Oliver didn’t find himself as thrilled as he should have been about it. He inched halfway out of the tent, debating with himself.

He didn’t know this Cliff person. Didn’t know exactly where they were going.

But he did know Grady. And Grady had been a light in the darkness ever since he came to work at the menagerie.

Oliver stopped overthinking it and slipped out of the fairy display tent. Maybe it was a stupid thought, but he wondered if it would be at all possible to stay with Grady instead. If not… It would at least be nice to talk to him one more time before this supposed hero came along and ferried them all to safety.

With some of the lights still up, it didn’t take long for Oliver to spot him near one of the food trucks at the edge of the grounds. He was talking on his phone. His shoulders were rigid. As Oliver flew closer, it sounded like Grady’s tone had a razor-sharp bite.

Too curious to interrupt, Oliver slowed his wings and landed on the ground so his buzz wouldn’t be heard. He hid behind one of the truck’s tires and listened. He clenched his jaw, worried that the arrangement with Cliff had fallen through.

“All I’m saying is that I better get what I’m owed,” Grady huffed into his phone. “I was promised double what Everett was offering. Now you’re telling me I’m not getting the full payout at once?”

Oliver clamped a hand over his mouth, his insides twisting.

Everett. Cliff Everett. If he wasn’t coming for them anymore, then who was?

If it weren’t for the unfamiliar, frightening edge to Grady’s voice, Oliver might have flown right out and demanded to know what was going on. But something was wrong. Anyone who was insisting on paying more to get their hands on an abused group of fairies probably didn’t have hot meals and soft beds in mind.

“We can discuss it more right now,” Grady sighed. “I see your headlights.”

Sure enough, the rumbles of engines and the glow of high beams became apparent from a distance.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Oliver muttered, pressing his back against the truck tire.

He needed to keep listening, but flying was not an option. His wings would easily be heard, and he’d spotted, and Grady likely still had fairy containment gear on him. Oliver wouldn’t be able to keep up by running, but Grady wasn’t on the move yet.

Without stopping to think twice, Oliver bolted out from under the truck and approached the massive boots. In hindsight, he was lucky not to get crushed then and there. But the stars or ancient magics apparently wanted him to live long enough to regret his decision.

He gave one soundless flap of his wings—just enough to carry him high enough to grab the crisscross of laces near the top of Grady’s boot.

It wasn’t so bad at first when Grady wasn’t moving. There was only the simple, crippling fear of the giant looking down at just the right angle and spotting his passenger. But luckily, the lights didn’t seem to reach all the way to the ground, and Oliver’s clothes weren’t bright.

The boot shifted, almost making him slip immediately. He grabbed hold of the laces, able to hear his bother’s deadpan in his mind—How the fuck have you managed to live this long?—just before the world began to swing nauseatingly. Grady was on the move. Each pause before his boot swung forward again offered little reprieve, other than giving Oliver a split second to tighten his grip and swallow his screams.

In the dizzying ride, he was able to make out several massive trucks arriving. More humans got out of the vehicles than Oliver could keep track of from this angle. It was abundantly clear that Grady had royally screwed him and the other fairies over, but Oliver was too petrified and sick to even consider trying to fight them all off.

“About the payment—” Grady started to say, pausing his walk for a blessed moment.

“Save it,” another human said. “You can collect once the inventory’s accounted for.”

Inventory. How fucking rude.

“Fine,” Grady muttered. “They’re docile right now. They still think Everett’s coming for them, so they’re loose in the tent. Didn’t want to risk them getting suspicious by keeping them caged.”

“How many canisters should we take?” another voice from one of the trucks asked.

“There’s a dozen units,” the first one said. “Three canisters should be more than enough.”

Units. Even the menagerie workers had the base-level decency to refer to them as fairies. Even occasionally as talent.

Oliver dared to peek up toward the newcomers and wished he hadn’t. They were decked out in gear that would likely shield them from any attack he could throw their way. The typical menagerie worker’s getup was laughable by comparison. But he was most focused on the canisters that were mentioned.

Iron smoke, contained for time being. One breath of that, and Oliver wouldn’t be able to make so much as a spark for hours.

With that, Grady took up his stride again. Each thump made Oliver feel like he might lose his grip, but he managed to stay somewhat alert to his blurred surroundings. They were heading for the tent. If he stayed on Grady’s boot, he was sure to be found before long. If he tried to retaliate or try to warn the others, he’d be taken down in an instant.

He was the only one with a shot of making it out.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed.

When Grady stepped close enough to the unkempt grass near the edge of the path, Oliver threw himself off. He rolled to a stop, cold mud smearing his arms. He ducked down among the vegetation and held his breath. The ground trembled with the humans’ retreating footsteps.

The moment he was sure their backs were to him, he started running.

The tent flap fluttered open.

Oliver began flying. Screams and shouts fell into the distance as his fellow captives were overwhelmed with iron smoke in mere seconds. He forced himself not to look back. If he did, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from going back, from trying—

But Grady was sure to notice he was gone. A search would begin. He had to keep going. Oliver flew for the surrounding woods, vehemently telling himself over and over that there was nothing he could have done. Over the roar of wind in his ears, Oliver swore he heard one of the fairies begging Grady by name to save them. He couldn’t stop himself from looking back over his shoulder toward the tents. Furious tears flooded his vision.

And then he slammed into a branch.

The branch had caught him by his stomach, knocking the breath from his lungs. Pain shot through the middle of his right wing, and Oliver shrieked into the woods. He looked up in terror to find iron mesh pinned into the trees. He had heard about this security measure from the menagerie workers who came and went over the months, but it had always been difficult to discern when they were telling the truth and when they were simply trying to intimidate them.

He was lucky his wing had only grazed through one of the larger holes—if he had slammed directly into the iron, he might’ve passed out and plummeted to a very awkward and unimpressive death. As it was, his wing was still aching hard enough that staying in the air was too painful. Oliver angled himself towards the ground to land, grunting at every leaf that slapped him on the way down.

“Haven’t even made it past the boundary, and you’ve mortally wounded yourself,” Oliver growled under his breath. He fanned his wings and conjured a faint bit of illumination in his palm. The iron exhaustion still had a hold on him, but he mustered enough light to see the inflamed veins on the gauzy appendage. He had to tear his gaze away from the stomach-churning sight.

Okay, so he wasn’t mortally wounded, but it was gross. And it fucking hurt.

Up the hill, vehicle doors slammed. He had to keep moving—even on foot.

As he stumbled in the dark over the rocky, root-riddled terrain, Oliver quickly remembered how much he hated the ground. When flying was an option, walking long distances on foot seemed like a primitive, wasteful thing. It felt so human. The soil was soft from rain and kept sucking at his boots, slowing his stride. Crickets kept snapping from spot to spot in the grassy nooks between trees. Pebbles and bark, slick with condensation, threatened to bring him staggering to his knees.

But maybe tonight, this was for the best, anyway. Oliver craned his neck towards the vast canopy of branches overhead. It was impossible to tell where the menagerie had installed the random panels of iron netting to trap would-be escapees. It was safer to avoid the chance of flying into another mesh. At least until he was further from the boundaries.

More annoying--but safer.

Somewhere further along the treeline, there were human footsteps. The kind that were clearly urgent, but trying to be quiet. Already looking for him. They’d be searching the branches, the iron netting, anything but the ground, he assured himself.

He couldn’t stop, couldn’t risk himself being cornered.

Before long, a different sound reached his ears. It didn’t sound anything like humans, so he hurried toward it, knees already aching from the strain of having to pull himself through the mud.

The noise turned out to be a swift, gurgling creek running through the woods. The current was angled in the direction he was headed—finally, some luck. Anything to keep moving forward without having to walk so damn much.

A few scraps of bark lay near the roots of a tree. He grabbed a piece big enough to carry him and dragged it to the bank of the creek. As he pushed it into the water and clambered on, the water rushed over his boots and hands. He hissed. This creek would have been pretty in the day, maybe. And marginally warmer. But right now, it looked like an inky black ribbon that would rush him further into the unknown.

Better than going back.

As it turned out, the water didn’t give him the reprieve he craved. Of course it didn’t. Nothing can be fucking easy. He had to stay on hands and knees for any sort of balance, which made the freezing water lap at him as it carried him off.

For a while, it was manageable. His hands became numb enough to deal with the sting. Even the pain in his wing started to wane as the iron’s effects lessened.

Oliver knew he was in trouble when he felt the first real dip of the current. It plunged the bark down and back up so swiftly that he was drenched almost entirely. He crouched, digging his fingers into the wood in a pathetic attempt to keep his plan from falling apart. Then that one dip turned into several, and the current began to rush faster.

And then, no amount of holding on could help. The bark overturned completely and threw him off. Shock took hold of his limbs. For a few terrible moments, all he felt was a mind-numbing sting. In his panic, he drew in a lungful of water. That finally jerked a reaction from him. He kicked and flailed until his legs finally found the creek’s bank.

Coughing and sputtering, he clawed himself onto freezing cold mud. In his desperation to get away from the water, he managed to get his clothes, hair, and—worst of all—his wings completely coated in mud. He gagged out the water in his throat, and once he was sure he wasn’t going to choke, he rolled onto his back and stared up at the trees, chest heaving.

“This is all because I didn’t go back to help them, isn’t it?” Oliver asked the stars he couldn’t see.

No, his brother said, appearing beside him. It’s because you thought it’d be a good idea to go rafting.

His sister was on his other side. Or maybe if you’d kept your eyes forward, you wouldn’t have hit that branch, dumbass.

Oliver sighed. “You guys are the best. Go away.”

Slowly, he pushed himself up to sit. The cold was bone-deep. He was surprised his limbs didn’t crackle with ice when he moved them.

If he stayed here, he’d freeze to death. If he moved forward… he could still freeze to death. Or maybe find death in some other, more exciting way.

He forced himself to his feet, nearly slipping into the mud all over again. Hugging himself, he glared at the rush of the creek. “Thanks for the ride. But also, fuck you.” He moved to find drier ground.

Oliver scraped mud off his face and arms as he pressed on, which seemed to exist in an unending supply. He was climbing over a rock covered in slimy gray moss when something rustled in the trees above. A bone-chilling hoot accompanied a single, heavy flap of wings.

Oliver seized up, pressing his back against the sediment. His sharp, terrified breaths were deafening as he leaned out to peer skyward.

Nothing.

He waited five minutes before scrambling over the rock and making his way to the next. This time, he caught the flicker of a mighty wingspan against the overcast sky.

Of course, he would have an owl stalking him tonight.

He clenched his fists as he lay back into hiding. The urge to fry the wicked fowl with a pointed spell was mocked by the remnants of the iron fatigue. Just running was wearing him more than it should. It would be some time before he could conjure any useful magic.

Waiting it out was awful—hearing every evil hoot and shift of the predator from branch to branch as it looked for him, hoping for an easy meal. Sitting still made the cold sharpen in Oliver’s joints. Rubbing his arms and legs seemed to do nothing; he couldn’t stop shivering.

He was starting to worry the clatter of his teeth might draw the owl’s attention, but its patience had a limit. Oliver heard it move towards a small rodent skittering around and wasted no time in launching back onto the path forward. He sprinted to put as much distance between them as possible, lungs burning and aching and begging him to stop. But he didn’t, not until the hoots were only a nightmarish echo behind him.

He was owed a stroke of good luck—but apparently, not yet. Gnats hovered over the moist ground in patches now, particularly near the best climbing spots where tree roots dipped under the rocky soil. They nipped at every inch of exposed skin, seeming to swarm to the mud.

Oliver almost wished he’d been an animal talent, fantasizing about commanding the owl to eat the aggressive fuckers out of his hands.

“If I had my magic,” he panted, punching blindly at a cluster of them. “I’d turn all of you into ash, do you hear me? Ash!”

The compounded grief and discomfort and pain and sheer this is fucking unfair, why me had Oliver rocking where he stood. Tears welled up in his eyes as he caught his pathetic breath and considered curling up by the next family of gnats and just letting them have at him. What was the point of freedom when it was impossible to survive?

It felt like it had been hours, but truthfully, Oliver had no way to tell how long had passed since entering the woods.

A pair of oily grasshoppers hopped onto the horizon. Oliver watched them approach fungi growing at the foot of the tree, nibbling at it. The other hopped close to indulge in one of the infinitesimal flies passing through. As though it had enjoyed the taste of blood, its attention moved to Oliver.

Fuck me, he thought wearily.

But suddenly, the entire forest floor shivered and the gathering of insects scattered in a panic.

An irregular quake continued to travel through the soil, growing stronger as he dared to walk forward. It was a clumsy rhythm—but much bigger than an owl.

Human footsteps.

A laugh threatened to burst out of Oliver, so he covered his mouth. Still, his chest heaved with the trapped sound. Of course. Of course there was a human just when he was ready to lay down and die.

Retreating into the nearby foliage, he took shelter among a nest of roots. Thankfully, the insects had moved further away and didn’t bother him in his hiding place either. If he had to choose between murderous grasshoppers or a human, he wasn’t quite sure where he’d land. He supposed it depended on how murderous the human was.

Holding his breath, Oliver peeked to catch a glimpse of the human. He reared back when those massive footsteps trailed closer than he expected. They paced away, but not very far.

There were black boots, dark jeans. This human seemed to be alone. He turned enough for Oliver to see part of his face in the darkness. He was cloaked in a leather jacket and had dark blond hair. Oliver caught sight of a strong jawline covered in short facial hair before the human turned away again.

“What are you up to?” Oliver murmured.

The human was peering through the scope of a weapon as if trying to get a read on the surrounding area. Oliver immediately pulled back into cover, his heart jumping. This could be one of the humans who stormed the menagerie. But… that didn't feel quite right. Oliver’s speed may have been pitiful on the journey so far, but he was sure he would have noticed if a human managed to get ahead of him.

Another peek gave him a glimpse of a car hidden in the shrubs nearby. It didn’t look like the ones that had pulled up to the menagerie, though. It seemed as if this human had been stationed here much longer than Oliver had been on the run. And he seemed to be spying in the direction of the menagerie.

Cliff Everett?

Relief threatened to send him stumbling out into the open immediately, but Oliver kept it at bay. He thought he could trust Grady—he’d known him for months. For all Oliver knew, Cliff was just as bad as the others. If this even was Cliff. The rescue could have been a lie from the start. The safe house could be a lie.

Weary, Oliver sank to the ground as he thought hard.

“He has to have food,” he whispered. “I could steal it. It’d be like crumbs to him, wouldn’t it?”

His brother scoffed. And how do you plan to get over there with your wings like that?

True. The mud caked on his wings had dried in several layers. And even if he did manage to grab as much food as he could carry, then what? He was already worn to the bone. The winter was unforgiving, and spring was a distant dream. He’d never make it. If he turned tail now, the next owl he came upon might be more patient than the last.

Even if this human planned to keep him captive… it would mean getting to stay alive. Humans wanted live fairies, after all. Unless they were scientists. And this one certainly didn’t look the part. The menagerie types wanted to make money off of fairies, and that meant keeping them fed and safe enough to be ogled.

A breeze danced through the woods and filtered through the roots, making him shiver harder.

He’d escaped once. That meant it wasn’t impossible to do it again.

Swallowing hard, Oliver grabbed onto a root and used it to pull himself to stand. His arms and legs shook from the effort. He shuffled out into the open and approached the human in the small clearing. He expected to be spotted right away, but the human was so focused on scanning the woods, Oliver went unnoticed.

“If you’re hunting for me, you’re doing a really shitty job of it,” Oliver breathed. “I’m right here.”

But the human didn’t seem to hear him.

He cleared his throat. “H-hey. Please tell me you’re not a total asshole. That would kinda ruin my beautiful night.” He couldn’t seem to make his voice any louder than a whisper now that he was exposed.

Then the human started moving toward him, and he thought that finally he had been heard. But the boots weren’t stopping. Oliver found his legs unresponsive. Until that night, he’d never had to look at humans from the ground. And his experience with Grady left him entirely frozen. It didn’t seem real, those monstrous strides carrying the unknown human closer and closer—

At the last moment, Oliver jolted back.

The boot came crashing down an inch from him, pushing up the soil as if the earth itself was casually coming apart.

Oliver wasn’t aware he was screaming until the human gave a startled grunt and recoiled from him. Falling quiet, Oliver breathed heavily and stared hard at the spot where the boot had been. The sight of tread’s deadly imprint would have made him puke if he wasn’t starved.

“What the hell are you doing down there?” the human thundered. “Don’t fucking sneak up on me like that! I could’ve killed you!”

((Author’s note: Poor Oliver’s so exhausted and it’s only the first part :’) Poor guy. But his luck may be about to change!))

[kuronanox]

Jazz out the bar - Hirako Shinji

"The usual?" (Your Name) asked Shinji with a bright smile as her body jumped excitingly to see his figure enter the jazz bar she worked at. His bright hair didn't go unnoticed every time he decided to pay a visit.

He grinned and took a seat across from her as they chatted for a bit, while she stood behind the bar to get his usual.

"You've been gone for a while, I was starting to think you found a better bar." She continued as he waved his hands in the air like he got caught red handed.

"I didn't think the little lady would miss my company, but of course I was a 'sick freak with a crocked smile' when we first met." Shinji teased her as she slightly got flushed and handed him the drink a bit aggressively.

He could only chuckles at the young girl attempt to ignore his last statement.

"I'm joking, how you've been doing?" He genuinely smiles, sometimes he worried for her safety, although Japan was a safe place, she worked at a bar with drunk men coming in and out. There were many times he had to tell some customers off when making (Your Name) uncomfortable.

"Oh! Semester is over! I'm enjoying summer before the fall comes and I have to go back to university!" She cheered while listening to the smooth saxophone in the background of their small talk.

He hummed, she was such a young girl. He was glad, she was happy, he wouldn't have to worry about her when he left back to soul society. It should always be this way.

As the crowd started to come in, Shinji had let her do her job and enjoyed each performance the night had allowed while keeping an eye on her.

"Hey beautiful! It's been a few weeks missed me." A drunken man loudly says as he leaned across the bar trying to gain (Your Name) attention as she awkwardly chuckled and kindly answered him back.

Shinji was thrown off by the tone of voice but chose to ignore the rude man's voice level and look ahead to the stage.

"If you worked at a club bar you would make nice tips because you know." The rude man says and gesture his hands across his chest, implying she should show more skin in her work outfit.

"No thank you. I make a good amount here. I am quite happy." (Your Name) says and walks to the next customer to greet them.

The rude man slightly got irritated and let it go for now. It wasn't until thirty minutes later he walked around the bar to gain (Your Name) attention again.

"Hey women, I've been waiting patiently for my next drink!" He slammed the glass down as she mentally rolled her eyes and looked across the room to see her manger giving her the death glare.

'Of course, customers first.'

"I like feisty women, I can tell you have it in you somewhere ." The man smirked while grazing his hand to touch hers as she set the drink down. She pulled her hand away quickly and grabbed a towel to wipe her hands.

"Could you stop, you've been flirting with me for lord knows how long. Cant you take a hint I'm not interested." (Your Name) says as one of her co workers heard and decided to take over as she walked away grossed out.

"I don't want you! I want that lady!" The rude man says getting angry (Your Name) walked away towards Shinji who happen to witness everything. Although she didn't ask for the blonde man's help he could read from her body language she was trying to hold her anger in as she started to dry glasses to distract her thoughts.

"You okay doll?" Shinji asked sympathetically as she turned to him with a small smile and nodded. He could tell she was use to these type of customers. It was bound to happen from time to time. Some people just couldn't hold their liquor or tongue.

"Here, on the house." She sets Shinji a dark drink as he tilted his head. "I haven't seen you in a while that's all." She implied as he was confused.

Shinji took a whiff and boy he was right, it was some good aged whiskey. He wasn't gonna complain though, it was good to get spoiled by a pretty lady here and there. While sipping on the drink he could see the rude man from a while ago coming towards them.

He could hear (Your Name) whisper 'stupid fucker can't take a damn hit.' While her back was turned to ignore the man.

Shinji was feeling a bit mischievous as he grinned under his glass.

"Oi women!" The rude man called.

Shinji swung his hat on his pointer finger while leaning on his elbow and turning to the man.

"The little lady as given you multiple hints through out the night that she wasn't interested. Seems as if you didn't live up to her expectation, I say to take a walk." Shinji then starts to say as the man began to get flushed before getting angry and getting uncomfortably close to the viszored face.

"What you say punk?" He threaten to Shinji as his grin turned to a bored one as he side eyed while watching (Your Name) talk to a different customer, unaware of the situation happening.

"I'm saying, she can do better and clearly she knows her worth now scram before I make you uncomfortable like you made the pretty lady." Shinji threaten looking back to his glass and taking another sip.

The glass had broke, of course he let it happen. Humans and their pettiness Shinji thought while catching a strong grip on the man's wrist before slammed his head on the bar counter.

(Your Name) gasped and saw Shinji with a frown looking down to the man who was causing a scene.

"Wanna go ahead and try to swing again? I can make it twice as hard this time." Shinji encouraged as the bouncers came to break up the scene and ultimately kicking him out. (Your Name) was shock as she ran out towards the bouncers.

"Wait! It wasn't this man!" She told the bouncers as they apologetically told her both men were to be kicked out, but she understood her coworkers were just doing there jobs.

Leaving her shift she went to find Shinji, he was leaning against a light pole.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean for this to happen." (Your Name) says feeling ashamed she couldn't handle the rude customer herself....again.

Shinji turns his head and gives her a light smile.

"No worries doll, I'll always defend you. I scared him away, let me walk you home just in case he's a crazy nut job." He offered as she agreed without hesitation. Shinji had never given her a reason to feel suspicious. In fact he's been so kind and brought her dinner on occasion when the night was busy and she hadn't eaten dinner. (Your Name) would pin them as close friends but still he was a mystery to her.

"I might get fired but that's okay, if management can't see that a customer is wrong then I should find a new job." She says to Shinji as he looked down to her with sympathy. He knew how hard it was to find a decent job that paid well.

Of course, after getting exiled from soul society him and the other vizsored needed to find income from somewhere.

He was thinking maybe he could ask that pervert hats and clocks man to let her work at the shop, just so he can be sure she will be safe once he left.

"Don't worry though! I'll be okay." (Your Name) tells Shinji with a smile seeing that the man had gotten fairly quiet.

"Um, will I still be able to see you though? You know since I might get fired." She brought up shyly as he grinned at her and threw a arm around her shoulder.

"Awe my little doll is starting to warm up to me, I knew you would miss this pretty face." He teases as she hid her face from him.

"Shinji I'm serious! Stop making everything a joke" (Your Name) pouted and kept walking.

"I'll be a little busy but I gave you my number, I don't know why you hesitate to text me." He groaned as she laughs a bit.

"I guess I'm a bit shy." She admitted as he patted her head.

The walk was fairly short as Shinji made sure she was at arms length through out the walk just in case. He didn't want to part yet but it was late and everything was about closed. He would not invite her to his home.... No warehouse....where he lived with other stupid Shinigamis as he likes to say.

"You'll be safe?" There was concern in his voice and he admit as much as he wanted to hide it she could hear him clearly.

(Your Name) chuckled at him and gave him a soft hug which surprised the older man but he gave into the embrace.

"I'll be fine, text you later?" She tells him and enters her home.

It was about a month and a few days prior of getting fired from the bar Shinji had texted her a good friend of his owned a candy shopped and needed a worker. Although it wasn't appealing at first she came to like the job.

Her boss urahara was a strange man but she sense the same vibes Shinji gave off and she felt safe around the store. No more perverted men....oh well...maybe her boss but it wasn't to a disgusting point.

Although she hadn't seen Shinji since that day and everyday ever since.

"You said you and Shinji were close friends?" She asks Urahara one day as she grabbed a few of the boxes that needed to be restocked.

"Hmmm I wouldn't say close, more like old co workers!" He cheered and sipped his tea amused of her struggle to carry the boxes.

"Jesus! You gonna help me carry these! I can see it's funny to you!" She snapped as the shop owner laughed and offered a hand.

"Shinji is busy with work, with time you will understand." Urahara tells her as she tilted her head confused.

'Maybe he doesn't wanna see me anymore?' (Your Name) would think everyday until it turn to every few days and to months.

Although during those months she found happiness in this little shop. Maybe even a family with the kids and her boss and his other worker tessai. She would be grateful to Shinji for showing her such a welcoming environment.

Even when she was struggling with living or even personal problems, Urahara was there to guide her back to reality and reminded her that Shinji would come back.

"I'm not in love with him you know." She tells the boss as he chuckled and waved his fan. Not believing a word she was saying.

"Oh of course. I can see the sad smile is for me not giving you affection." He jokes as she threw the box stuffing at him and looked away. 'Ugh men'

"Whatever!" She flushes and walked towards the front of the store to start closing duties.

A gust of wind make the door rumbled a bit as she grabbed a broom and rolled her eyes, damn the weather. She just wanted to lay in bed after a hard day of her boss yapping her ear off.

"Stores closed, come back tomorrow!" She yelled.

"Oh baby doll, I didn't think our reunion would be this sour!" Shinji grinned as she widen her eyes and then softly smiled.

"Oh Shinji. COME HERE YOU BASTARD!" (Your Name) yelled chasing him with the broom stick to smack him in the ass for leaving her alone all these months. "IMA KILL YOU, YOU JERK! YOU LEFT ME FOR SO MANY MONTHS WITH THAT PERVERT BOSS!"

"Hey hey, if he's a pervert then what am I?"

"A stupid man! A selfish one!" She screamed as he caught her broom and engulfed her into a loving hug.

"I'm sorry love, I had work. I'm sure over time you figured out where I was." He tenderly says as she looked down. Of course she caught on, the hints that Urahara gave her and the strange people that came into his store frequently.

"Yeah I know. Why didn't you tell me!"

Shinji laughs and patted her head.

"Of course I didn't want you to think I was a freak! You had enough of those at your old job." Shinji explains as she walked towards the register and took a seat.

"I've miss you, how are you going to fix that mister?"

"Oohhh I took a special request off work for a few days, so I have something in mind." The older man winked as she began to grow flushed.

Hearing snickering from the back she threw the broom at the door. "STOP LISTENING PERVERT BOSS!"

Shinji and her chuckled at each other, her personality really was a feisty one sometimes.

"I'll explain in details later how we can communicate, on the mean time. I say we boggie out here and let Urahara do the rest!"

(Your Name) devilishly grinned as they linked hands and made it out to the night where they could happily enjoy each other company again.

[boldlyvoid]

Million Dollar Man | chapter two

18+

summary: Spencer's therapist recommended he branch out and meet new people who don't want to talk about his work... she didn't expect him to sign up for a Sugar Daddy website.

Content warnings: sugar daddy!spencer, age gaps (14 years), daddy kink, blow jobs, kissing, drinking mention, lowkey perv!Spencer, cum play, praise, oral (female receiving), grinding, love confessions, arrangements, Spencers anxiety, (more to add)

word count: 3.4K

a/n: updates on Wednesdays and saturdays at 2 pm est

Chapter Two | Masterlist

She sat on the subway with an anxious pit in her stomach and her purse held close to her chest. Her laptop in her bag, she didn’t want to lose it on her way to the most important meeting of her whole life.

Her story was becoming a book, she was almost done the final draft, they were making touch-ups to the cover and picking the type of paper today.

Her dreams were coming true within the next month, soon she’d have a physical copy of her book, her pre-sales were showing that she’d be on the bestseller list, and her name was finally going to be on the cover of this one.

She sighed and reached for her necklace, holding it between her fingers as she took a few deep breaths. She was doing so much better today than she was last year and it was all because of Spencer, he was the best thing to happen to her. To think she complimented his sweater vest and now he’s the only person in her life she can count on.

All she can think about is him for the rest of her journey, through 4 more stops she keeps her eyes closed as she thinks of all his little facts and his cute laugh. She smiles to herself and the anxiety slips away, she loves him and she knows that for sure, but she just doesn’t know how she loves him.

She’s never had a sibling, her best friends are all women, her previous boyfriends were all shit and her other sugar daddies were never this wonderful, and her parents are lesbians… she doesn’t know what her feelings really are for Spencer, mainly because she’s never known any other men to compare him to.

But she does know the exact moment she realized she fell for him.

He booked a hotel room in DC after a local case, asking her to meet him in there at 10 pm. She was waiting in the bathtub when he arrived, bubbles galore, her hair up and arms open, “welcome home, honey.”

He laughs, “you want me to get in there with you?”

She just nods, “let me take care of you, daddy?”

He takes off his blazer, pulls his tie off and starts to unbutton his shirt. She watches patiently as he gets undressed, and it’s not sexual to her. He’s her person, her best friend, the only human being she would ever share a moment like this with and that’s when it hits her.

She doesn’t accept it just yet.

It’s not until he’s lying on her chest, between her legs, cheek resting on her boobs as she runs a sponge over his back while he gives her a little run down on his terrible week. His co-worker almost died, his mom is stressing him out, the only good thing he has left is her and she knows that.

“And then I get to my moms facility and she’s had a really good day, she knows me and she knows all of my childhood again and she’s all right there in front of me and yet she’s so far away. I’m never going to get all the time I want with her and it’s really hard to accept.”

He shares things with her that he doesn’t even tell his therapist. Because his therapist doesn’t hold him like a child against her chest and tell him he’s okay when he get’s upset.

Y/N loves him, so she kisses his forehead, “I’m so sorry, I have 2 moms if you’d like to have one?”

“It’s okay, I would love to meet them sometime though,” he wraps his arms around her waist a little tighter under the water. “Thank you for tonight.”

“Did I mention my leg is 44 inches from hip to toe?” She asks in the middle of the silence, quoting pretty woman, knowing he hasn’t seen that far into the movie yet. “So basically we’re talking about 88 inches of therapy for the bargain price of $800 dollars a week.”

Her legs wrap around him and their naked bodies are closer than they’ve ever been and yet it’s completely platonic, “I’d spend a million dollars on you if it always meant feeling this good after.”

She runs her cheek along his wet hair as he snuggles into her neck, “mmm, I like the sound of that,” she teased. “My million dollar man.”

Her stop rolls around and she pulls herself out of her day dreams to get off the train and head to her meeting. She smiles as she walks through the station, up the stairs and onto the busy downtown streets when she gets a text with Spencers special chime. She opens it when she gets to where she’s going, safely inside and in the waiting room.

It makes her laugh in the waiting room. People look at her but she doesn’t care, he’s so special to her she feels butterflies in her stomach even when he’s not around.

“Y/N!” She hears her name being called by her editor, he’s over ecstatic as he comes running out to get her. “Come, come we have so many choices to make!” He jumps up and down as he holds her arm, like a child in a candy store.

“Andy, chill man,” she laughs at him and plays it cool, “It’s just the cover being finalized.”

“It’s our baby!” He teases back, pushing his glasses up and tugging her behind the glass doors of the office.

She’s surrounded by people and paper and huge versions of her book cover. She has a sharpie as she fixed mistakes and jots down final ideas. “And I wan’t Phil to look more human and less like data from Star Trek?”

“But Dorothy looks okay?” The artist asks, nervously and Y/N can tell.

“She looks beautiful! You really brought her justice,” she smiles, “really she looks the same in my head! It’s just Phil and I’m sure it’s tough getting a drawing to look like a robotic human, let alone human.”

“I have some ideas?” She opens up more, taking her iPad out and sliding it across the table, “I wanted to give him more of a Sophia feel? His face is silicone but his joints and everything are more like an Elon Musk crash dummy.”

“That’s perfect!” She’s shocked, “why didn’t that go in the first draft?”

“I was worried it was too much,” she’s a little older than Y/N, and yet her anxiety is that of a teenage girl. “I’m going to get working on the final, do you want some emailed versions tonight?”

“Yes please,” she smiles.

“So we’re done?” Andy asks, “we’ve made all our final calls?”

“I believe we have,” Y/N closes her laptop and takes her phone out, taking a photo of the final rough sketch of her book cover on the table to send to Spencer before he comes to pick her up. She can’t wait to see him now.

—

They’re sitting side by side in matching spa robes, he’s getting a pedicure while she gets her nails done. Leaning back in her chair with a face mask and cucumbers on her eyes, she’s never felt more relaxed in her life. And just in time too, her back was killing her from writing, her knuckles hurt and she just needed a break.

Spencer did too, he was genuinely not having a good time at work anymore, every case made him spiral and he always looked to Y/N on days like that. They met more than once a week now, she got $800 every Friday and she didn’t even really need it anymore. He was coving for so much of her bills and lively hood that her savings account was growing and growing because of him.

For the first time in her life she thought she would be okay if a man left her. As terrible as it was, as much as her moms tried to raise her differently, she fell down the daddy issues rabbit hole and she’s never going to find her way out— however, luckily for her, Spencer is down here too, and he brought a flashlight.

He understands her, more than anyone else on earth. He knows all her secrets, every crush and bad grade and snide remark she’s ever kept to herself. He didn’t judge her, he could actually listen to her issues and tell her why she had them. He gave better advice than a therapist and he was able to get information for her if he didn’t know the answer to what she was going through.

He’s absolutely everything to her and yet he’s 14 years older than her, he’s still traumatized beyond belief, he’s sad and ashamed and recovering… but he’s the best man in the whole world and she wishes he could see that. If he just looked at himself from her eyes, if he felt how she did in her soul when they were together, he’d love himself.

They’re too relaxed to drive home, and Spencer knew that would happen beforehand, bringing her a change of clothes (lingerie) and that robe me mentioned. He books a hotel above the spa and takes her to it. Arms linked as they enter the suite, she’s amazed to find more than one gift bag on the bed.

“How many gifts is this now?”

“We’re at 5 out of 24.”

She laughs as she wraps her arms around him in a thank you hug, “this is what you consider 4 gifts? Spencer there are like 8 things on the bed, let alone the massage and manicure?”

“If you think this is too much I guess you’re going to get really mad next week,” he teases as she looks up at him with a surprised look on her face.

“Spencer, I am so busy next week, I cannot be galavanting around with my sugar daddy,” she tries to act like she doesn’t want to go on an adventure with him again.

The last trip they took was the best week of her life. They went to all the historical sites in the UK that she and Spencer had talked about. Mainly old churches and castles, strange poets graves, random art and most importantly; stone henge. It was a trip of a lifetime and he took it with her.

“I watched the rest of Pretty Woman the other day,” he smiles, “and I thought I’d pull an Edward Lewis and really surprise you because you deserve it.”

“You know how the movie ends, right?” Her heart beats really fast in her chest and she wants him to love her so bad but it’s also terrifying now that she’s this close.

“He lets her choose,” he whispers.

“He rescues her,” she corrects him.

“And she rescues him right back,” he really did watch the end of the movie.

It makes her heart skip a beat as she swallows sharply, “what does this mean for us?”

“I have a whole plan, a whole sequence of events I want to stick to. I wanted to make you fall in love with me this week and ask you on your birthday, can we still do that?” He pleads with her, he’s so serious. He’s clearly put a lot of effort into this.

“Absolutely,” she smiles, “but if you’re going to make me wait that long for you to ask, you still can’t kiss me till then. No matter how much I already love you.”

“Really?” He’s so soft with her, she knows he’s not reacting to the teasing. He’s never had someone tell him they love him and then stay after.

“I would never lie to you about that, spence. I know what love means to you, I know how scared you are and I’m scared too. But I know there is no one else in the whole world I’d rather be scared with than you,” she holds him tighter and rubs her nose against his, “so what’s in the bags, daddy? Finish your surprise.”

She plays along perfectly, stepping back and hauling him towards the bed. “I got you some outfits and things for the next 2 weeks, we have a few things planned. We’re going on a flight soon, I have new luggage being delivered to your apartment this week and we’re going to see your moms for 3 days.”

“No,” she shakes her head, “there’s no way, Spencer, I haven’t seen them in 5 years, I’m going to cry.”

“I know,” he cups her jaw with his hand. “They’re really excited to see you.”

She hugs him tight, kissing his neck as she holds him. “Thank you, daddy, do you want me to put something on for you now?”

“I’m just going to take it off you, plus, what your wearing is sexy enough, he whispers back. “You’re always so beautiful, baby.”

“I thought you were saving the best for last?” She asks as she pulls back, overly eager and he can tell.

“I want to repay the favour from the other night.”

She doesn’t mean to gasp and yet she does, “please?”

He pulls on the tie of her robe, opening it enough to snake a hand behind her back and draw her in with a hand on her bare back. “Please what?”

“Please, daddy?” She looks up with her best begging eyes, perfect pout and all. “I want you to touch me, I promise I’ll be a good girl.”

He steps away from her to swipe all the bags off the bed before picking her up and laying her back against the pillows. He kisses down her body, hand on her lover back as she arches, he drags his bottom lip from her belly button to her cleavage. Nipping and sucking at the exposed skin on her chest, pulling her breasts out of the bra to suck on her nipples, she moans and it’s louder than she expected.

As she plays with his hair, he marks her, bruising small little love bites all the way down as he makes his way between her legs, “take me, please?”

He’s been dreaming of this for so long, he can’t even give you an accurate number of times his mind has drifted to the thought of how wonderful she would taste, how beautiful she’d sound…

“Tell me how badly you want me?” He asks as he spreads her legs and kisses her left thigh.

“I haven’t had sex in 10 months while waiting for you. Daddy, please you’ve owned me for so long, just take what’s yours already for gods sa- OH!”

With a broad lick, his tongue flattens against her core and it shuts her up. She gets what she wants, holding into his hair as she tosses her head back, taking it all in and enjoying it. He’s been on her mind for months, every time her vibrator was where he is now, she thought of him. he’s been the man of her dreams longer than she’s known him, and he was proving it.

“Right there, daddy,” she speaks through shallow breaths, “do you know how much I’ve thought of this?”

“You know I don’t,” the vibrations of his voice against her skin are glorious, he looks up at her through his lashes as his tongue flicks over her clit and she shakes a bit.

“Fuck,” she gasps, gripping his hair tighter, “better than I thought you’d be, fuck, too bad you— Jesus, don’t have the stash anymore…”

He stops and looks up at her, the smirk on his face glistening with her juices, “the stash?”

She nods, “I’ve thought about calling it the pussy tickler,” she teases, running her hand down his cheek and swiping her thumb across his bottom lip before bringing it up to her mouth to taste, “I want more of you.”

He kisses back up her body and she reaches for his robe the second he’s close enough. “Just grind against me? I know you’re waiting but we can still feel good together?”

He kisses the side of her mouth and she takes that as a yes, wrapping her legs around him so his hard cock is pressed right against her core as they move their hips in synchronicity with each other. His breathing is heavy as he kisses her cheek and jaw, her nails scratch down his back, he feels absolutely amazing against her.

She feels so empty, she wants him so bad she’s clenching around nothing as she squirms against his cock and wishes she was full.

“I wish I could move time,” she whispers. “Fuck, why can’t it be my birthday?”

He laughs against her, grazing his teeth over her neck and drawing another moan from her but then he stops moving his hips, “why are you so impatient?”

“Remember I said I stopped enjoying everything? Well, taking a 10 month break from sex and thinking about you every time I got off has made me desperate,” her hand cups his cheek, “I’d wait forever for you, but a girl needs to be fucked hard every once in a while.”

Only she could find a way to make something both profoundly beautiful and whorish at the same time, he loved her for it and she knew that now. He smiles and leaned in to rub his nose against hers and it takes everything in her not to kiss him. The same way it was taking everything in him not to slip into her as he began to grind against her once more.

She’s so close, the accidental edging has added a whole new level of desperation she’s never felt before. She wants to cum for him so bad, but more importantly she wants him to cum for her.

“Take my bra off,” she whispers, Spencer’s hands travel behind her back to unclasp it and he helps her out of it before tossing it to the floor.

“Cum for me daddy,” she whispers in his head with a hand in his hair, gripping him tightly as he bites at her neck, “cover me with your cum like you’re marking your territory.”

“Shit,” his hips sputter against hers.

“Say it, I know you want to,” she teases, so close to the edge but it’s too good of an opportunity. She loves seeing him fall apart like this and she can’t wait to see it again. “Who’s am I?”

“Daddy’s girl.”

He grinds down on her harder and faster and she’s so close, the bubble in her gut is reaching a fever pitch and with a gasp, she’s cumming and then she feels it. His load covers her stomach as he pants against her neck and grips her hips tighter as he comes down.

She wraps her arms around him and holds him as close as humanly possible, her breathing still heavy as he rises and falls on her chest. He’s heavy but she doesn’t care, she just kisses the top of his head and thanks him.

He brushes his nose against her neck, nuzzling her like a cat, “do you really mean it?”

“What, honey?” He remembers so much, this could be a question about something she said 2 months or 2 minutes ago and she has no clue.

“You’re not just playing along with my kinks right, you genuinely want to be mine?”

For being her million dollar man, his heart sure was broke. This is why he wasn’t ready, he still didn’t understand why she would want to stay without anything in return, he’s gotten so used to paying her for her time now that his anxiety has managed to convince him that she’ll leave when he stops being worth it to her.

“What does my necklace say?” She asks, knowing how close he was to it. “Read it to me, I forget.”

“Daddy’s girl,” he smiles again.

She soothes her hands over his back, “I would do anything with you because I love and trust you, but also because everything you do is sexy… you could read me the dictionary and I’d still want you to pump me full of cum after.”

“It sounds so crude after,” he laughs, “speaking of, we really need to have a shower.”

“I’ll wash your back if you wash mine?” She teases as he gets up.

“Only if you let me wash the front too?”

She smacks his bare ass and races him into the bathroom, turning on the water and getting in with him while still laughing and carrying on. He’s her best friend in the whole world, there’s no one else she would rather do this with… there was no one she has done this with. No one has made her feel this good, before during and after sex.

Spencer Reid was an anomaly, but he was hers.

Permanent tag list:

@g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @shemarmooresfedora @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @blanchardsbk @idonotexiste @measure-in-pain @dreams-in-blxck @doc-padfoot @nomajdetective @mggswhorificlover @dinonuggets1967 @meganskane @gubeskneescrew @kya-li @reidsbookclub @muffin-cup @sassymoon @shirleyrose

Sugar daddy fic (Some tags didn't work)

@mggs-sidehoe @bakugouswh0r3 @mggskneescrews @moonlight-2-6 @spencerreidscumwhore @my-thoughts-are-weird @violetclifford @youabitchhhh @bunny-script @baby-i-am-fireproof @moondustmemories @rexorangecouny @minervaonmars @onlyhereforthefanfics @anonymous-reading @go2sleepducky @kingcrain @beepbooptoop @givemeth @emma-is-a-nerd@wrecky-becky @eternalspence @ne--yo-pets @valerieweasley @coldlilheart @andiebeaword

[thesunicarusfellfor]

Mortal of Gold - Part 3

(Yandere!C!Techno x GN!Shy!Reader x Yandere!C!Philza)

Anyone want my list of the characters as gods? There were a few characters that I couldn't think of like Ponk, so I just left them out. ANYWAY. Hi, how's it going? ALSO I CANT EDIT THIS DAMN POST AND THE SPELLING ERRORS ARE SO IRRITATING

Part 1 Part 2 TW: Mention of amnesia, memories being altered Send me a message via inbox if you wanna be added to a general or series tag list. Make sure to turn off anon, please. ------- “They weren’t born… A mortal?”

A light wind brushed over your features, causing you to give a small sigh and roll over onto your side in an attempt to block the light from hitting your lidded eyes. It was nice and quiet for once… “(Y/n)?” A distorted voice echoed softly, causing you to flinch a bit. You opened your eyes slightly to see a silky blackbird sitting on the sheets beside you, a few golden trinkets laying beside it. Upon seeing your eyes slide open, the creature hopped up onto its legs and began making soft cooing noises, “(Y/n)! (Y/n), you’re awake!” Glancing around at the surroundings you had been placed in, racking your mind for any sort of familiarity but failing to come up with anything at all, even who you were. You sat up, slowly brushing your fingers along your ombre silk clothing before putting your hands on the sheets below your body, frowning as you didn’t recognize the bed as yours. “Hello…” You murmured softly, reaching your hand out to the crow who eagerly jumped forward to nuzzle your hand. The feathers of the bird felt… Odd. They felt more like grabbing at misty fog, but with a light staticky cotton texture that caused a buzzing sensation on your fingertips, “I’m sorry, my memory… Seems to be a tad faulty… Could you tell me your name?” “I’m Chat, Dadza- er… Philza’s familiar! I was a gift from Mumza, oops... Kristen, the Goddess of Void and Death.” It chirped, its voice having multiple layers in your head, causing you to shake your head a slight bit, “No, they’re not married, only parental figures to the souls that pass on to the afterlife or those they saved sometime before they passed on… I believe they have more of a co-worker relationship.” You nodded slightly, pursing your lips at how the creature’s voice sounded in your mind. It was unsettling and caused shivers to crawl up and down your back, but at the same time, it was incredibly calming and had a soothing aura. How that worked, you had no clue whatsoever. Brushing off the unsettling voice of the bird, you decided to focus on the name that caused a light to go off in your head, “Alright… Philza… I think I remember that name…” “Yeah! Dadza- Eck… Sorry. Phil, he’s the God of Survival and Crows! He controls not only every crow in the mortal land, but he also controls whether or not someone will survive a situation. If there is no way that the mortal can survive, he will send a crow down and have them guide the soul of the mortal to him! Then he escorts them to Kristen! He has gained the name Angel of Death because he works for Mumza!” You decided not to question why the crow called Philza and Kristen Mumza and Dadza, knowing that you’d probably find out later, but by the sound of it Chat seemed to be multiple children, “Okay… Makes sense…” You mumbled slowly, nodding your head up and down. With a sigh you slowly brought your legs over to the side of the bed, only now becoming aware of how large the soft mattress was. Lowlands! (Hell) You could probably fit six people who were ten feet tall in it with room to roam! Pushing yourself off the bed, you also realized how high the beautiful bed was off the floor, Gods, whoever lived here was tall! Behind you, you heard a small chirp, and you saw Chat watching you curiously. With a small shrug, you decided to pick the familiar up and hold it in your cupped hands as you walked out the door, “Oooh! Dadza never carries us like this, and Technoblade does only when he’s about to yeet us out a window!” “Yeet?” You scowled in confusion as you walked through the arched doorway, your bare feet padding silently on the quartz flooring, “I'm scared to ask. Technoblade? Is he also a god of some things? He sounds familiar as well…” “That’s its word for throwing something. Well, it yells the word when they throw something or get thrown, so I assume it’s yelling in excitement,” A deep voice spoke from in front of you, causing you to gasp and lift your head from the crow. The telepathic chirping and squeaks from Chat in your mind quickly formed the name Technoblade, so… You had a feeling that your answer was on its way past his

lips, “I’m Technoblade, or Techno, the God of Blood and War. It’s… nice to see you finally awake…” He shifted awkwardly on his feet as you curiously studied him. His appearance could certainly be described as godly if anyone asked you. His long pink hair was mostly twisted and tied into a braid with bits of golden chain and a polished golden crown adorned with rubies, garnets and diamonds. Upon his pale skin, dozens of scars of varying sizes decorated his skin in different areas, but they were displayed in an almost proud manner. Almost. When he spoke, his dark pink eyes hidden behind cracked glasses searched your form for any sort of injury, “I’m… (Y/n)... I think. I don’t know if this bird is exactly trustworthy in its information… Do you know where I am?” Techno snorted as Chat gave an offended squawk at your statement, “That’s very fair, to be honest. You’re in the Tundra of the Upperlands, and this is my palace. No there is no snow, I believe the person who named this place has never looked into the name or word Tundra, but it’s been like this for too long to change it-” He paused for a moment as he noticed you looking extremely confused, “Ah. Right. Desert. Don’t worry about it.” “Oh… Okay…” You frowned at the tusked male for a moment before shaking your head, deciding not to question it much, “Now, uh… How did I get here, and why don’t I remember anything about myself? Or, about you and this Philza guy, I was told about.” You lifted Chat slightly toward Techno as a silent indication that Chat was the one who told you about Phil. “That’s uh… Phil’s field of expertise.” He rubbed the back of his head with his black-tipped fingers before adjusting his crown, “I don’t understand much of what happened, and Phil will tell you what you need to know that will keep you safe.” Hesitantly, he held his free hand out towards you making you realize that he was easily over seven and a half feet tall, “C’mon, I’ll take you to him and get you the answers you need.” His hand was extremely steady, you noticed as you stared down at it cautiously. Once you noticed that he didn’t seem to want to do you harm, you slowly shifted Chat into one hand and used your free hand to take the one extended to you, which you couldn’t help but notice, made Technoblade very happy, “Okay. Thank you.” The god held your hand in his calloused one for a few moments before beginning to lead you down the tan and white hallways that were turned a light golden hue from the rising sun. It was quite a long walk filled with a slightly uncomfortable silence, but you distracted yourself by looking around the palace curiously. It was obvious he was the God of War by how many swords hanging on walls and sets of armour he had placed on armour stands in the hallways. Eventually, he walked you through an archway that led into a wide-open room with multiple windows that had many crows perched on the windowsills, some chirping and singing some little tune in perfect unison while others shuffled around, seeming to do a little dance. You were quick to realize the whistling of one of the birds didn’t match up and noticed that it was coming from the man with the large white and green striped hat as well as massive black feathered wings dangling on his back, fluffing themselves up every so often. When you and Techno stepped in, the blackbirds started chirping loudly, losing the rhythm of the tune the winged man was whistling as Chat started telepathically squealing about… 2/4? Two out of four what? “Ah!” The hat-wearing male turned around and clasped his hands together upon seeing you standing up, “(Y/n), you’re awake. I was worried the injuries you sustained were enough to keep you out cold for a few more weeks. I’m glad to see I was wrong. I’m Philza, God of Survival and Crows, and I see you’ve met Chat and Techno. Pesky bird, I told it not to wake you...” You pursed your lips for a moment, analyzing the shorter god as the bird squealed out its protests. While he was shorter than Techno, he was certainly tall, standing roughly around six feet tall, his wingspan

probably double that for each wing! His blonde hair was long around his face but was pulled into a loose braid like Techno’s was, although instead of gold intertwined into his hair, it was silver. His outfit was made up of a loose green shirt and black pants, with a red heart-shaped pendant dangling off of a chain into the center of his chest. Why did that pendant… Look familiar? You slowly rose your hand up and clasped at the pendant around your neck, noticing how Philza smiled softly, “Technoblade… Said you could tell me why I can’t remember anything?” “You’re still wearing my gift, I see,” Philza gave a soft hum as Chat jumped from your hand and onto his shoulder, before gesturing for you and Techno to take a seat where he already had drinks and some form of cakes set out, but they certainly weren’t there when you came in. Upon seeing your confused blinking, he gave a soft laugh, “I’m a god, mate, magic is no difficult task for me, let alone creating some measly tea and desserts. Now, sit down and I will tell you everything…” - General - None Mortal of Gold -@generalalmond @binas-idea-vault @ohworm-writes

[folkloreguk]

🍒Cherry Ice Cream (2)🍒

A/N: Part two is here! There won't be another one after this. I just wanted to split it into two little scenarios with one being cute and the other not so cute lmao...I hope you enjoy - as always I appreciate feedback a lot!

taglist: @lovely-ateez

genre: smut, optional bias (m) x reader (f), lifeguard!au, pool sex, unprotected sex

words: 3.4 k

PART 1 (fluff, both parts can be read independently)

It was the middle of the summer holidays and you had never been happier. Sunny weather, swimming, lots of free time and as much ice cream as you wanted were only a few of the reasons for your luck. The main cause was the boy of your dreams. A few weeks ago, you had met. It had been the most chaotic, embarrassing day at the public swimming pool – or so you had initially thought. Turns out being a walking disaster could not only attract negative attention. When the otherworldly handsome and kind lifeguard had pulled your clumsy figure out of the water and even bought you ice cream to make you feel better, you had a feeling things were about to change. And you hadn’t been wrong. Maybe you were seeing things through rose-colored glasses and a mix of lovestruck hormones, but you suspected he might just really be this great.

Ever since your first ice cream date, the two of you had been inseparable. Looks were one thing – and you had made yourself aware that though he was a picture of perfection, he could still have turned out to not be your type at all. But the inside reflected on his outside. Every day you found out a new enrapturing detail about him. He was a never-ending book that you were utterly unwilling to put back down.

Your days were spent at the public swimming pool, watching your lifeguard boyfriend do his job and questioning if this was all some sort of hidden camera prank. During his break he came running straight to your spot under the trees and plopped down on your towel, ready to spend the most time with you until he had to go back. Although your streak of bad luck was over, he still took care of you and made sure you were okay in the heat. He reminded you to drink enough water and sent you a good morning text every day. When he had first asked you to help him put sunscreen on his shoulders, you had hesitated with cheeks hotter than the sunlight that day. Now it was a daily thing, and sometimes when his hands were on your back, rubbing in the lotion, you caught yourself wishing there weren’t a hundred families around you. But it was hard scoring alone time with him at the pool. Even later at night, right before closing time, there were always one or two diehard swimming fans there.

“I love watching my cute girlfriend swim,” he would keep telling you.

“You better make sure you’re paying attention to the rest of the visitors, too,” you would reply, but secretly love his flirty remarks. Perhaps he wasn’t even so far off. After your first encounter, it was apparent that maybe you were the one guest who didneed the closest monitoring. Even his co-workers knew of you. They had made it their life mission to remind him daily how whipped he was for you, but he never cared about their teasing.

At night, you rode your bikes home. Towards the candy cotton clouds on the horizon, through the small suburb, you rode side by side, still damp hair flowing in the wind. Outside your home he cupped your face then, the sun kissed skin of his hands still warm to the touch. Like he was the slowly setting sun himself, he kissed you goodnight. You were addicted to his lips. He made you fly, brought back all your fondest memories as if he himself was in them, and let you forget every worry you’ve ever had in the world.

One evening at the pool, you lay on your bathmat, headphones in your ears and your favorite summer playlist taking you to another world. Suddenly, two hands grabbed you by the shoulders. You jerked up in surprise.

“Oh my god, we could have hit our heads together!” you scolded your boyfriend, who was smiling at you like an innocent five-year old.

“Guess what. My boss just told me that I can close the place up tonight. You know what that means, right?” he said.

“Tell me more,” you smirked.

“Technically, we can stay here however long we want. And do whatever we want. As long as no one finds out,” he whispered the last part into your ear. Chills ran up your spine despite the heat in the air.

“Do whatever we want, huh?” you said. “I thought you were being a model employee?”

“I am,” he shrugged with his child-like smile. “And the model employee needs to go back to work now. I have a reputation to uphold. You’ll be waiting for me, right?”

“Of course,” you nodded, watching his figure as he jogged back to his seat by the pool. The next hours seemed to go by extra-slowly, to your dismay. After his announcement, you only found yourself staring in his direction more than on any other day. Truly, you could never get used to his handsomeness. You thought of his voice that made you melt like ice and his hands when he kissed you. Too often they remained in innocent, safe territory. Maybe that was about to change. It was a Friday, meaning the opening hours were longer than usual. By 10 pm however, even the last person had left. The public swimming pool was closed. Officially.

You had to admit, you could get used to having an enormous swimming pool all to yourself. Blissfully, you dived through the water, not having to worry about crashing into anybody’s legs or losing track of your surroundings. You had always felt as though swimming was a little like flying. Not that you knew what flying would be like. But if you had to make a guess, feeling weightless and small in a seemingly endless space probably came close. All your life, it had remained the same. Playing pretend in the water, acting like a mermaid scavenging for the most precious treasure of the seven seas – all your loveliest ideas lingered in your memory like it had been yesterday.

The pool had a shallow end, about the depth which allowed your head to reach above the surface, and progressively deepened towards the other end. You took a gulp of air and descended into the darkness. Taking long strokes, you dived towards the white light at the wall of the shallower pool end. With the brightness ahead of you, you failed to notice the shadow behind you.

As you were in the process of coming up from the water, a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around you. For the second time that day, you jolted in surprise and quickly gasped for air.

“You scared me out of my wits! Will you stop that!” you said, but you were already smiling. It was hard to carry grudges against the boy behind you. Not when he held your waist and rested his chin on your bare shoulder, grinning as if it was a crime to even suspect him of such things.

“Hi, there,” he said and pecked your cheek sweetly. “I missed you.”

“So did I,” you admitted. Only months ago, you had made fun of how lovestruck your friend had been. You weren’t one to speak now. His hands let go of you while you turned your body to face him. Then they were on you again, and although it was a small touch, your lack of clothes created a tension between you right away.

“Wanna race me?” he whispered into your ear, as if there was anyone around to listen in. Was he serious? Did he really think you wanted him to let go of you now? His voice on your neck rendered you wanting him so bad, you had to take a deep breath to compose yourself.

“I’ve been swimming all day,” you said. “Besides, didn’t you say we could do whatever we wanted? We can swim whenever we want, during opening hours.”

“Oh, sounds like you have better plans?” he asked. For a moment, he touched your forehead with his. If you bent forward slightly, you could have kissed him. His hungry eyes were on your lips when you had finished the thought.

“I was thinking you could kiss me, for starters?” you coaxed him. He chuckled.

“So you’ve been thinking about it too, the past few hours,” he realized. “You know, I was trying to be subtle about it.”

“Forget about being subtle,” you said. “Let’s just make out, please?”

“I’d like nothing better than that,” he smiled, and then your mouths touched. His gentle lips tasted faintly of chlorine and salt, a taste you had come to associate with him and magnificent things. You held his face in your hands tightly and pushed your body against him yearningly. Reacting, he sighed and deepened the kiss. His wandering hands found the small of your backside as you arched your back into his frame. You hummed quietly, hands burying in his wet hair and playing with it at the nape of his neck.

All your childhood you had been searching for your treasure under the water. Now you understood. He was right there in front of you. Little you would be proud you had found someone this precious and incomparable. And hot.

“Jump,” he said. You did as he suggested and wrapped your legs around his waist. The proximity of his body made your heart hammer against your ribcage with such feverishness, you worried it might jump through your chest. With the way he touched every curve of your body, you almost forgot how to kiss. Luckily, your instincts did the job for you as you sipped on his lips and sighed every so often. He caught your bottom lip between his teeth, and you felt his smirk when you moaned in surprise. Every inch of your skin burned with desire for him.

As he carried you over to the side of the pool, you pulled away shortly. You took the liberty to attack his neck with frenzied kisses. It felt just as you had imagined a thousand times. You couldn’t possibly recount all the instances when you had found yourself staring at his neck and shoulders in the past weeks. He was easily the biggest distraction you had ever known. But it wasn’t your fault his tanned skin was so inviting and his strong presence ever so alluring. Returning his teasing, you bit into his shoulder, kissing and sucking on it right after.

“Fuck, baby,” he said in a throaty tone. “You’re amazing.”

Softly, he rubbed his nose against yours before your lips locked again. The kiss was all but soft. Your tongues meddled as if you were starved people and you could barely keep your hands in one place. Not that you would want to. You wanted to glue his hands onto your body or better yet handcuff him to your wrists. What was the opposite of a restraining order called? You were about to invent a word for it. Never before had you been so intoxicated, so in ecstasy with another person.

He pulled aside the fabric of your top momentarily and cupped your breasts in his hands. You gasped and melted into his touch and the way he played with your nipples. He attacked your neck in kisses and you shut your eyes, enjoying the sensation of his lips.

“I really want you.” He had his hands on your ass and all you could think about was the growing bulge in his swimming shorts. Your hard nipples rubbed against his chest, the thin fabric of your swim top doing little to nothing to separate your bodies. How could somebody’s whole existence be so titillating? He pulled away, just far enough to speak but barely. “I’ve wanted you like this for a while. But I didn’t want to unsettle you by making you think I just want sex from you. Truth is, I don’t want you to be just some summer romance, Y/N. Every day I hope you’ll still be here when summer is over.”

“Why would you think I’m going anywhere?” you asked. “You’re the reason I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. I ask myself every day how I managed to end up with you in the first place.”

“That’s easy. First, threaten to demolish the turnstile with your stubbornness, second, offer your head to a bunch of kids with a water ball, third, square up against a bug in front of a hundred people, fourth- “

“Okay! Enough,” you said. “Don’t bring up my clumsiness. That’s just about the least sexy thing in the world.”

“Baby, I think there’s nothing not sexy about you,” he spoke. He kissed you deeply and all your embarrassing memories vanished at once. “So, you’re cool with this?”

His sudden change in tone caused your breath to hitch in your throat, as his hands lingered by your hips, just above your bikini bottom. You only nodded, the motion getting more eager as the words sunk in. He slid his fingers along the inside of your thigh, and you squirmed under his touch in desperation. Swiftly, he pushed aside the material above your center. His digits slid through your wetness, catching the nub between them, and rubbing ever so slowly. An overwhelmed gasp spilled over your lips, and you closed your eyelids.

“Fuck- ,“ you muttered under your breath. He teased your core, nearly sliding his finger into you, but then pulling away to find your nub to toy with.

“You look so beautiful,” he said. At his words, you looked at him through fluttering eyelids. He was one to talk about beauty. The luminescence from underwater sharpened his features, and his eyes had something magical, something enchanting about them. Like he could have you – or anyone – without saying a word. He reminded you of a merman, or rather a siren. Ready to drag you along with him, deep under the surface. And you were so willing to let it happen. For all you knew, you were long lost and under his spell anyway.

“Have you ever done it in public?” he asked. You were too distracted by his fingers on you at first, head hanging back in ecstasy, until you snapped out of it.

“No, but – fuck – I guess I can strike that one off my sex bucket list after tonight, can’t I?” you said.

“You have a sex bucket list? Interesting, tell me more about it,” he smirked. His eyes darkened and his tongue licked over his lips once. As if on command, his lazy ministrations on you quickened, rubbing your clit in small, circular motions until you were a moaning, stammering mess. You suspected he did so just to see your immediate reaction, and you gave him just what he wanted.

“Can we postpone the – the talking…on later?” you murmured, feeling like collapsing against his broad shoulders. “I’m kind of too busy to – to talk.”

“I can see that,” he teased you, kissing you gently. The delicacy of his lips only made your head spin more. “You’re so sweet, baby.”

“Don’t you want to get busy too?” you asked. You reached for his swimming trunks and wrapped your hand around his hard member through the material. “I don’t want to wait any longer.”

“Shit- me too.” His arousal echoed in his moans, and he sucked in a breath. There was a sense of power in knowing you could make him react so gravely by doing so little. You tugged on his trunks and pulled them down a little to reveal his full length. Palming him, you felt how painfully hard he must have been for a while now. He groaned and it was the best thing you had ever heard. Eagerly, you slid your bikini bottom off and watched for a moment as it sunk down into the depths of the pool. Your legs wrapped around his waist again as he aligned his cock with your core.

At this point you supposed you were both out of words. Hunger had taken over and you barely managed to form a sentence. He kissed you and you hummed and nodded, wanting him to know you were ready. Easily, he entered you and you whimpered at the way he stretched your velvet walls after all the wait. Your senses were overcome with everything around you. The warm water enveloping the both of you, the soft summer breeze caressing your faces, his hands on your hips as he guided your body into his thrusts and the sound of your breathless moans and sighs – it was pure bliss. Night had almost fallen, with the sky being a deep blue, almost black by now. It was a perfect setting for a perfect night with your favorite person.

You gazed into his dilated pupils and the coil in your stomach tightened in the most delicious way possible. Now you recounted a myriad of dreams you’d seen him in. Not always, but occasionally he showed up in your dirtiest of dreams, with his gorgeous, addictive smile and strong arms. But now he was right there, in front of you – inside of you – and you apprehended how weak your boldest imaginations had been. Your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders as you clenched around his cock. He moaned your name huskily and it only clouded your head further.

It was crazy how loving a person could magnify everything. Even with closed eyes, the mere idea of him fucking you, at night in a public pool, could beat every single other experience you’d ever had. You felt like you were blessed with the audience with a god. A god, who had manifested on earth only to scoop you up and show you the finest things in life. You definitely couldn’t think of a finer thing than his cock dragging through your walls, hitting your g-spot repeatedly, while he had you cased against the pool tiles. Moans and little whimpers fell from your lips, and you were glad there wasn’t a single soul close by who could have heard.

He was jaw-dropping. With the way he pounded into you hard, using the poolside wall as support on your back, you felt your head spin as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Your skin seemed to prickle wherever he touched you and you pushed your chest against his. Just a little closer, you told yourself, even though you were running out of space already. It was body against body while he whispered naughty things into your ears, telling you how incredible you felt, how lucky he had gotten with you and how sexy he found you.

“You’re the fucking best I’ve ever had, baby,” he said. His teeth grazed your neck as he kissed your sensitive skin messily. You could have counted every single drop of water hanging from the strands of his hair and adorning his face. Could have taken notice of every single eyelash and even the tiniest speckles of color in his irises. But you could barely command your eyes to stay open.

“So- close,” you said. In your ecstasy, you clawed at his back as another wave of pleasure went through your entire body.

“Together, hm?” he said, lips brushing over your cheek with every thrust. You hummed and nodded, as he picked up his thrusts to a toe-curling speed. With every touch of your sweet spot, you felt reality slip away a little further, and you were doing nothing to fight it. You invited the feeling in, resting your forehead against his, breaths coming out in short puffs. And then it overcame you. Your orgasm jolted through you like electricity, and you clung to him as if you might have sunken otherwise. It made your shared moans high pitched, and he followed you, pulling you into his arms like it was alone you who was keeping him afloat.

The splashing of the water softened as he drew out your highs for as long as possible with slower thrusts. Eventually, he halted completely. He cradled your face in his hands and when you finally opened your tired eyes, he was watching you with full adoration. His charming smile caused an eruption of butterflies in your stomach. This was only the beginning of your time together, yet you could barely fathom your fortune. And as it seemed, this time fate was on your side.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Bent, not broken 3

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; violence; injury; blood; fingering, mean Steve

This is a dark!fic and features the winter soldier and Captain Hydra x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: An attack leads to the uncovering of decades old secrets when you are taken by the deadliest assassin in the world

Note: Here’s part 3. Right now I’m bouncing between things but open to suggestion for the upcoming week for ongoing series. (I’ll likely just add onto my Lee fic).

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

The days passed like a pendulum, swinging between paranoia and suffocating tension. You felt like an animal caught and caged. Much of your time was spent in that room, abed and alone. Your only contact was when Steve brought you your meals but the soldat did not appear again. You were relieved not to have the silent watchdog around but it also made you uneasy.

The pain dulled. Your shoulder loosened up first and no longer sent a jolt down your arm every time you moved. Your ribs were another issue and even as the agony was less intense and consuming, the echo of the injury remained. You felt brittle as if one wrong move would break you completely.

Then, when the pain was not so strong to distract you, you grew restless. The walls seemed closer together and the meals further apart. Steve’s appearances were brief and mostly wordless. He’d linger to check on your injury or bark at you to eat, but he wasn’t as talkative as your first day in the hideaway.

There was little for you to do. You were left with a copy of War and Peace and the tight font often left your eyes fuzzy and fatigued, your mind as well. There was a booth hidden behind the narrow door and you washed when you felt up to it, the water ice cold. You spent much of your time staring at the ceiling, wishing it would collapse on you.

You weren’t stupid. You knew it was all methodical. The indifferent isolation. You were being conditioned like a dog with a bell and it was working. You longed for any contact, any company, and conversation.

That day, the door opened but you didn’t move. You laid with your head on the pillow, arms crossed, and one leg over the other. Steve placed the metal bowl on the nightstand and sighed as he stood by the bed. You felt him watching you as you ignored him for the pale white above.

“Sit up and eat,” he said.

You glanced at him. The scar through his eye wrinkled as he grimaced and tapped his fingers on the table. You shrugged at him and sighed.

“I’m not hungry,” you said.

“Eat,” he repeated.

“I will,” you relented, “when I feel like it.”

“Now,” he grabbed the bowl and put it over your chest, “come on.”

You rolled your eyes and sat up and took the bowl. His eyes clung to you as you bent your legs and stirred the thick oats. The goopy mixture made a gross noise as you did.

“You don’t like it?” he said.

“Bland,” you took a bite, “doesn’t matter.”

“You’re right, it doesn’t,” he rebuked, “you better be done by the time I return.”

You looked at him as he turned away and headed for the door abruptly. You choked down the thick porridge and took another bite. You were hungry but the pasty oatmeal went down like rocks.

When he came back, you scooped up the last mouthful and put the bowl aside. He neared and draped a lilac dress by your legs. You stared at it then looked him in the face. His expression was as impenetrable as the mountain compound.

“What is that?” you asked dully.

“Don’t be stupid and put it on,” he put his hand on his hip, “I’d say it’s a bit more fitting than that prison uniform.”

“Is it?” you grumbled as you tentatively reached for the purple fabric.

“Or you can go naked,” he reached out and jabbed your shoulder.

“Fine,” you turned your legs over the bed and watched him expectantly.

He raised a brow and waited. You shied away at his unflinching stare and swiped up the dress. You crawled to the other side and kept your back to him. You took off the shapeless shirt and dropped it behind you. You pulled on the dress and stood, pushing down the baggy bottoms. The dress floated at mid thigh and left you feeling exposed.

“Your ribs are healing,” he remarked, “you should be able to take the bandage off.”

You faced him as he went to the foot of the bed. He waved you over and continued to the door.

“Should get the kinks out,” he said as he set his thumb in the sensor and the metal slid up, “a proper tour is in order.”

You neared as he turned and waited for you to precede him. As you passed, his eyes slipped down your body and he tilted his head. You looked away quickly and carried on into the hallway. There was little point resisting a man who could break you in two with his pinky, especially in your state.

“Looks good,” he said as he followed you out and came up arm to arm with you, “you know, you, me, the soldier, we’re the only ones who know about this place. Not that you know much, huh?”

“I don’t like games,” you retorted, “I’m… tired. Please, don’t--”

“I found this place in 1955,” he led you along the shining halls, “it’s had a facelift since then. A hobby on the side. Used to be Stalin’s hideout, akin to Hitler’s bunker if anything ever went south. When he died, the co-ordinates were lost. They sent me out to find it…”

“They? Hydra? Why--”

“Because the other guys didn’t care,” Steve said, “I saw how they celebrated my death as some patriotic feat. Like I was just a shield. You know, the ‘bad guys’, at least they don’t try to lie about what you are. They use you exactly like they need to and don’t sugar coat it.”

“And your… friend… you like how they use him?”

Steve stopped short and caught your arm, “it’s best for him. He couldn’t handle a clear mind. We keep each other safe, like we always did.”

“Mmm,” you hummed.

“As I was saying,” he nudged you onward, “I gave them a fake map and all they found was a demolished bunker. It kept them happy and me too. I got a place to lay low. Place of my own.”

You turned down the next hall. You were quiet as he led you along, past that room with the bar and around another corner. You lost sense of direction as he took you deeper into the hideaway. You came into a large corridor with a glass wall that overlooked a mountain pass without. You were breathless as you stopped to peer through.

“He’ll hurt you again,” Steve said bluntly, “we both know that.”

“Then why keep me here? You can let me go. I wouldn’t say a word, I wouldn’t even know what to say--”

“And why would I do that?” he asked blithely as he admired the deep drop and jagged offshoots.

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“It’s much more fun to keep you,” he chuckled, “and he wanted you so taking you away won’t do shit.”

“I don’t--”

He raised his finger and hushed you. He squinted as he listened but you didn’t hear anything but the winds on the other side of the glass. Steve’s mouth slanted and he stepped past you. You turned to the end of the corridor and heard a soft padding that grew to a tremulous stomp.

“Speak of the devil,” Steve taunted, “sounds like a rough mission.”

When the soldier emerged from the next hall, you gasped. His face was a smear of grit and blood, his locks dangling and slick around his mask. His gear was torn and gashed in places and his metal fist clenched as the plates of his arm bore even more scratches than before.

He stopped and his eyes dilated as he saw you. Steve went to him calmly and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, you’re back,” he said softly, “snap out of it.”

He tapped the mask so the soldat looked at him instead. Their eyes met as the soldier’s chest puffed and slowed. Steve’s other hand went to his chest, just over his heart. The captain leaned in and kissed his temple, issuing a whisper you could not hear.

You were too shocked and confused to do more than watch. Steve gripped Bucky’s jaw and turned his gaze onto you. He smirked as he held him.

“Look at her,” he slithered, “isn’t that what you wanted? A pretty little plaything.”

The soldat didn’t move, just stared.

“She’s all ready for you,” Steve let go and clapped his chest, “isn’t that a nice dress, huh? A nice peek of her legs… don’t you want to know what’s underneath? Don’t you want to touch it?”

You took a step back as goose bumps rose on your skin. Steve released him and snickered. The soldat brought one boot down and then the next, marching slowly towards you.

“Let’s have some fun,” Steve boomed and his eyes narrowed over Bucky’s soldier, “soldat, engage.”

His next step came down quicker and you spun on your heel. Without thinking, you dashed away in a blur of terror. You could hear him behind you, the heavy soles thunderous against the slap of your bare feet. You got around the next corner and your ribs throbbed painfully as your lungs burned.

You peeked over your shoulder. He wasn’t running, he was walking. A mock of a chase as he kept within sight even as you raced on. Your heart pounded in your ears and your legs felt like jelly. It was so long since you did more than pace your room or lay in bed.

You stumbled deep in the maze, all recollection of the path Steve led you on gone. You hit your knees on the hard floor and hissed. You had only a moment to gulp down air before you were seized by the back of your neck. You staggered as you were spun and your back collided with the cold wall.

The soldier’s metal hand was quick to grasp your throat and push your chin up as he held you on tiptoes. You clawed at his fingers as his other hand crept up your thigh. Your eyes watered as it felt like a vice was wrapped around your neck and chest. You quivered as the skirt caught on his hand and slowly rose with his touch.

You squeezed your thighs around his fingers and he poked you so harshly you whimpered. Your legs parted for him and he pushed against your bare cunt. You clung to his wrist as your other hand slapped at his bicep. His blue eyes focused on your skirt as he delved between your folds.

Your feet arched as you tried not to slip and your calves cramped. You whined through your teeth as he turned his hand and pressed the heel of his palm to your clit. He bent his finger into you and drew a pathetic yipe from you. He felt around inside and added another, eliciting another tremulous yelp.

“Pl.. please,” you rasped, “don’t… you don’t want to…” his eyes flicked up and met yours.

He paused as he gazed back at you and you squirmed. He hesitated and for a moment, it felt like he might drop you. Another set of footsteps approached evenly and Steve tutted as he came upon the scene.

“You shouldn’t play with your food,” he said, “go on. You know what you want to do. It’s why you took her.”

You choked as his fingers tightened and he buried himself to his knuckles, his hand firm to your clit. He rocked his hand and your body, every tilt sending a jolt through you. Your walls were scoured by his intrusion and your core thrummed at the distant stirring of instinct.

“Please…” you cried.

“Shhh,” Steve came closer and leaned on the wall next to you, “we don’t want him to break something else.”

“Wh-why--” you coughed.

“Faster,” Steve snarled, “make her feel it.”

The soldier lifted you off your feet with each dip of his fingers. You slapped your hand against the wall and reached for the captain. He swatted your hand away and backed up as he watched you. He rounded Bucky and peered at you from the other side and hummed. He sucked his teeth and came closer, his hand on the soldier’s shoulder.

“More,” he urged.

You closed your eyes and shrieked as his hand sped up, slamming into you over and over as your thighs clamped around him. You gritted your teeth as your pulse raced and you were swept up in a sudden fit of dizziness. You felt fire flickering from his touch, building and building a spark at a time as your body rebelled.

“Look at her,” Steve purred, “so weak, so small. Nothing. She’s not like us, she’s just one of them.”

You groaned as your cunt made slick noises around Bucky’s fingers and his hot breath glossed over you. He leaned in and his hand moved so that his thumb pressed along your jaw painfully. You whined as you felt as if he’d crush the bone.

“She’s almost there,” Steve mused, “faster, yeah, like that.”

You wailed as you came, terrified of the man before you and the way your body bent to him. Your nails grazed down the leather across his chest and your hand dangled limply as you let the tide wash over you. He kept on until you could hardly breathe and dropped you suddenly. Your legs folded and you crashed to the floor.

You kept yourself from keeling over onto your face and pushed your back against the wall. You peeked up as Steve took Bucky’s hand and licked his glistening fingers. You cringed as he let go and his attention turned on you. He knelt and exhaled deeply as he smirked at you.

“You want to know why?” he blinked and his nose scrunched sardonically, “because I didn’t want this. I was happy. Just me and him. Decades and he decides to go out and catch a pet.”

“No, I…” you rubbed your throat as it burned.

“Him, I know, but it doesn’t hurt any less,” Steve scowled, “but we can make it work.” He reached to you and brushed his thumb over your cheek, “I can make use of you. Just the way you took his fingers, that look on your face…” he retracted his hand and leaned his elbow on his leg, “and he could use an outlet. Something to ease the tension.”

“You… and him?” you wondered aloud.

“It’s the twenty-first century, isn’t it?” Steve stood and slapped the soldier’s ass. He got a sharp look in response, “not that it ever really mattered.”

“It’s not… I just didn’t… realise,” you rasped.

“Mhmm,” Steve intoned, “you’re just innocent.”

“I didn’t--”

“Get her up,” he ordered, “take her to our room and get her cleaned up. You too. You smell.”

You flinched as the soldier grabbed your arm and forced you up. Your thighs quaked in the after shock and your core ached. He pulled you away from Steve and you limped beside him. You shivered as the cold air enshrined your hot flesh.

“No touching,” the captain warned, “not until I say so.”

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Repeat Offender: Rindou Haitani x Fem!Reader

synopsis: Bonten!Rindou knows exactly how to get your heart: Money, booze, and a lot of flattery.

wc: 1.6k

tw: NSFW

masterlist

song recommendation:

"Why won't you just let me have you?"

The question is posed as Rindou Haitani has you (willingly) pinned against the wall of the private office, your hands fiddling with the edge of your skirt.

"You're always in my dreams, and--"

"I don't mix business and pleasure, Mr. Haitani."

"I can't sleep anymore," the man whispers, leaning into you and pressing his erection against your thigh. "Don't you want me?" You look away, partially denying yourself, and partially revealing your attraction. "You smell so good, too. Is that Dior?"

"I have to go," you whisper, pushing off of the wall and out of Rindou's grasp before gathering your files and leaving the office in a rush. Rindou straightens his tie, his eyes following you as you hurry back to your office down the hallway.

And at that moment, Rindou determined that he wouldn't let you slip away a second time.

Even if he had to break a few necks or spend thousands of dollars to have you.

_____________________________________________________________

You're walking out of your apartment when you see the flashy two-seater pull up, the familiar face of your colleague flashing through the window. But it's not a workday.

"Y/n!"

You try to reach for your car keys, but you find you can't quite move, and Rindou is already getting out of his vehicle. "Get in," he breathes, but you stand your ground, looking at Rindou in the eye with a straight face. "Listen, I wanted to apologize for yesterday."

"Don't worry about it." Your fingers suddenly work as you try to fish your keys out, and you touch your key fob as Rindou walks up to you, eyes serious.

"Come on. We're going shopping." When he grabs your wrist, you let out a soft gasp, but follow him to his car anyway. When you're safely inside, he drives off, humming along with the classical music playing in the car. You try to keep your eyes on the road, but you feel something pooling in your stomach at the thought of one of your flashier co-workers taking you shopping.

"Do you do this with every girl you find attractive?" The question slips out without prompting, and Rindou looks over at you curiously.

"No. Just you." When you arrive at the upscale shopping center, you bite your lip, looking at all of the signs for labels you can't afford. Rindou seems to notice your hesitation and places a hand on your waist, smiling at you with his violet eyes. "Where do you want to start?"

_____________________________________________________________

"You know all of this won't buy my affection."

"I know," Rindou murmurs, looking down at his watch and sighing as the valet takes his time fetching the car. "But it can sway it, right?" The assistant holding your items behind you is panting with the exertion, and for a moment, you feel bad for them. Rindou had encouraged you to buy whatever you wanted, waving his hand and having the shops charge it to his invisible account. He even encouraged you to try on lingerie, but you'd declined to do so, alternately purchasing an expensive robe and calling it good.

When the car arrives to take you away, you reach over to grab your bags. "Uh-uh." Rindou swats your hand away and you shrink back, watching as he opens the trunk and then your door. You slide into the seat, watching him hand the valet and assistant a hundred-dollar bill each, then getting into the car himself.

"Where to next?"

"My place." You swallow hard as Rindou weaves through the lanes of traffic, wondering if you'd really make it to his undoubtedly fancy residence in one piece. Should you really be going to your co-worker's home? Especially after he's bought you thousands of dollars worth of custom clothing, accessories, and Williams Sonoma items? "Don't worry, I won't try anything." Rindou whispers as he pulls up to the gated community, flashing a small smile in the guard's direction.

The metal gate squeals open, revealing houses you could only imagine in your wildest dreams, and Rindou drives on, chuckling at your shocked expression. If you thought that he lived in a fancy house, you were wrong.

He lives in a mansion.

"I live here with my older brother, but he's out of town for the week." The comment is accompanied by the opening of another gate, and Rindou drives through it, clearing his throat. "We have a few rooms to choose from should you want to stay the night."

Stay the night?

"Is there anything you want to eat?" He wonders innocently, parking the car. "I can let the chef know."

"Um..." You stare at the white stucco mansion in awe, blinking a few times before you hear Rindou laugh, getting out of the car.

"I'll let you think about it, sweetheart." Your stomach leaps at the nickname, and you exit the car before he can open the door for you.

"Mr. Haitani, welcome back." A maid greets Rindou at the door, her eyes roaming over your appearance with interest. "Should I prepare a room for Ms...?"

"Ms. Y/n. Yes, thank you." You walk past the marble foyer and statues of famous figures around the staircase, following Rindou up the red-carpeted steps and to the second floor. "There's an infinity pool out back if you want to take a dip and a steam room as well. If you get hungry, the kitchen is on the first floo--" Rindou's phone rings suddenly, and you stand akimbo as he picks it up, frowning. "Talk to me."

Your eyes look out of the windows overlooking the backyard - which is filled with a koi pond, the infinity pool, and a few lounge chairs placed around the edge of it. You question how much he and his brother paid for this monstrosity, just as Rindou finishes up his phone call.

"I have to go for a little bit. I should be back within an hour, so make yourself comfortable. I apologize for the intrusion." Rindou takes your hand and gives it a quick kiss before walking down the stairs and leaving you alone.

You find yourself at the edge of the infinity pool an hour later, full of pasta cooked by the chef and dressed in the one-piece black swimsuit you bought earlier. You unwrap the towel from around your waist and dip a foot into the semi-cold water before immersing yourself in it and paddling to the edge of the pool in the evening light.

There's a steep drop-off at the edge, shielding your fall only with a thick border of glass. You suddenly imagine Rindou making business partners who displease him walk over the edge and fall down into the nothingness below. Well, there is something. But the marble slab looks quite far down, and really uncomfortable to drop onto.

"You're going for a swim, huh." You turn to see Rindou walking toward you, a smile on his normally serious face. "Mind if I join you?"

"But you're in a suit." Rindou raises a brow, taking off his jacket and tossing it onto the ground before undoing the buttons on his shirt. And you can't help but watch him undress, revealing the massive tattoo scrolling down his left side. You look away as he takes off his pants, and you don't look back at him until you hear him splash into the water, swimming to you under the water. "Rindou!" He resurfaces just before he reaches your legs, grabbing your shoulders and laughing without restraint.

"Come here, pretty girl," he chuckles, pulling you close and pressing his lips against yours. The kiss is tender, almost too tender for Rindou Haitani, but you lace your arms around his neck and his hands slide down to your waist. When he breaks the kiss, you whimper softly, and he leans forward again, cupping your face and kissing you over and over again. "Is this okay?" Rindou finally asks, his violet eyes searching yours.

"Yes," you exhale, eyes fluttering open. "Yes."

Water splashes around your hips as Rindou grinds into you, holding you close as his erection grows, again, rubbing against your thigh. You tangle your tongue with his, releasing all doubts and inhibitions before lean back, letting him kiss down your neck.

"We should take this to the shower," you whisper, and Rindou hums.

"Anything you want, baby."

Your moans fill the bathroom as Rindou slides against you, breath hot on your neck as you lean against the tile with his hands roaming over your backside.

"Should probably fuck you before we clean up."

He presses the head of his cock into you, groaning as your slick lubricates him enough so he can slide past your lips before pulling out and pushing back in. "So tight..." You bounce back on his dick, taking control of the interaction as he grunts and moans, holding your neck in his strong hand. His other hand creeps down to your folds and parts them, fingers hurriedly searching for your clit. When he finds it - you jerk in his palm and that lets him know - he rubs it with two fingers, making small, quick circles. "You're so wet for me."

"I want it so bad," you keen, and Rindou nods.

"I know. You've wanted this for a while, haven't you?" His voice in your ear is sinful, but you nod, closing your eyes. "Yeah, I know you have." You gasp as his hips drive into yours, making a slapping sound in the shower.

"Rin... ah, I'm..."

"Gonna cum for me? You gonna cum, beautiful?"

"Yes, yes, yes..." you pant, gripping the wrist that's attached to the hand rubbing your clit faster. "I--" You inhale deeply, pulsing around Rindou's cock as he continues his motions, leaving you a shaking, moaning mess.

"That's a good girl," Rindou hisses, kissing your jawline. "Now give me a few minutes to draw one more out of you before I cum, okay? Think you can handle that?"

"Anything you want, babe. Anything you want."

[huntergatherercreator]

Hello :) I was wondering if I could make a not so interesting request and I hope you don't mind 😅 So, like reader has kids with mob Tom Holland and you can decide the genders and number of kids they have and stuff and how would the whole family react to one of reader's friends constantly pursuing reader's love and when reader tells them that she's married and has kids, the lil shit is like "It's all right, just divorce them'' I have a feeling no one will be taking this lightly.....

Hey! I LOVED this idea!! I did switch it up to a co-worker because that's the first thing I thought of when I read this but I can definitely see him grudgingly having to put up with a childhood friend who just won't quit trying to make the reader see how in love with them they are. I feel like I need to write that too now....

Hope you're having a great day, take care and stay safe lovey 💜💜

----

Warnings: Some swearing, and super sleaze ball energy

1,389 words

“It’s just drinks,” you laughed as Tom buried his face into your neck with a sigh. You focused on the mirror, touching up your hair and smoothing over your outfit. It was just drinks but it was with your new work team. You’d all only met last week and you’d suggested a night out as a team building exercise. Nothing broke the new job nerves better than alcohol and bad karaoke.

Tweaking his curls you smiled as Tom reluctantly met your gaze in the mirror.

“You say that, but you’re not the one being left with the terrible two,” he grumbled.

You turned to cup his face, laughing at his small pout and chocolate puppy dog eyes.

“Is my big bad mob boss afraid of a couple teenagers?” you teased.

“I’m not afraid of them,” he growled. “I just don’t understand them. All I get are grunts and sighs from Thomas and with Katelyn its like she speaks a different language all together.” Hands wrapping around your waist he pulled you tight against him.

“Plus, you look too stunning to be let out without a chaperone. I think I need to come with you.” His hands wandered to your backside, fingers creeping down to lift the hem of your dress. “Or, you could stay home,” he purred seductively as he gripped the bare skin of your thighs.

As much as you didn’t want to you wriggled out of his grip. “We’ll have plenty of time for that when I get home.”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” he winked.

A horn blared from outside and you cursed, you didn’t want to be late. Tom deftly swept you into your jacket and handed you your purse.

“Have a good time, darling,” he said as you kissed him on the cheek quickly. With an appalled huff, he reeled you in for a proper kiss, holding you captive until the taxi beeped their horn again.

“I won’t be late. Have fun,” you called over your shoulder as you hurried out the front door.

----

The bar was packed already and you were struggling to find your table when a heavy hand landed on the small of your back.

“It’s Y/N right?” Relieved you found yourself staring up at one of your new co-workers. Your brain faltered for a second before finding his name.

“Max?” He smiled in a cocky overconfident way before leaning in closer.

“You can call me whatever you like, sweetheart.” You grimaced a smile, subtly inching back from him as the stench of his cologne clouded around you.

“Where’s the team table?” you asked, pointedly turning away and scanning the room again.

“It’s in the back corner.” When you moved in the direction he’d indicated he caught your arm. “The table service is pretty slow, if you want a drink we can get one from the bar.”

“I’m happy to wait. I’m going to go re-introduce myself to everyone.” Breaking out of his hold you strode to the table, the prickling feeling of being watched crawling over you until you were swept into the embrace of your favourite work friend.

“I’m so glad you’re here! I was talking about our last project and this one here,” she hooked a thumb at one of the young interns, “doesn’t believe we wrote the whole presentation ourselves after tequila shots.”

You laughed at the memory. When it came to work you took it seriously, if you didn’t you wouldn’t have been promoted to executive and leading this new team. However, that didn’t mean you didn’t know how to have some fun.

You fell into an easy conversation with them both and others of the party drifted over sporadically to shake your hand and introduce themselves a bit more.

“We’ve already met but I’ll take five minutes with you over everyone else.” A voice said at your ear. You already knew from the overpowering smell of cologne it was Max. Now it was mixed with a strong dose of rum and turned your stomach. He lounged against the table in front of you.

“Tell me, who did you have to sleep with to get this job? And is there a sign up sheet?” he winked. Your skin crawled. Tight lipped you judged whether you could justify wasting a perfectly good drink by dumping it over his head. You cast a critical eye over him. As much as he was dressed like a man of business his suit was clearly off the rack. It was too small in the shoulders and had a slight polyester sheen to it. He could pretend all he liked but he hadn’t worked on a team this high up before. If he had he’d be better dressed.

“That’s funny, I was just about to ask how much your daddy had to spent to get you on the team.” His eyes flashed dangerously then he slowly grinned.

“You’re feisty. I like that.” His gaze shamelessly travelled over you. You refused to cross your arms over your chest under his lecherous stare. You’d dealt with worse, you reminded yourself.

“I need another drink.” You told him bluntly and walked off towards the bar. You reluctantly tamped down the urge to fire him. This was outside of business hours, you’d deal with it on Monday morning you told yourself. You just had to get through the rest of the night first.

You’d just reached the bar when his hand gripped at your waist and his fetid breath washed over your neck.

“Keep running away, I like a challenge. It’ll only make it sweeter when I have you writhing under-”

Spinning you shoved him away.

“I’m happily married,” you snapped in disgust.

He only leered at you. “That’s what divorce is for, sweetheart.” Your fingers tightened on your glass as you readied to throw the contents of it at him.

“Get your sleazy hands away from my mum!” You blinked in surprise as Katelyn elbowed her way through the crowd to jab a finger in Max’s face. “Yeah, I’m talking to you, you piece of shit.”

“Katelyn.” you tried to scold her but the weight of it was lost as you laughed.

“You heard her.” Tom’s voice was dangerously low as he stalked to stand beside you. “If you so much as breath in the direction of my wife again it’ll be the last time you do anything.” A cocky smile covered Max’s face until Thomas stopped behind him and dug his hands into his shoulders.

“You heard my dad. If you have any common sense you won’t mess with us.”

Max snorted, “You think I’m scared of you? I could steal your wife any day-”

“Mr Holland, I wasn’t expecting you tonight.” The flustered manager of the bar accompanied by two security guards faltered as he took in the scene. “Is there an issue here?”

“There is, this idiot is threatening me,” Max sneered.

The manager didn’t divert his attention away from Tom for a second.

“This man’s been harassing my wife, could you escort him out Eddie?” Tom asked the closest guard.

“Sure thing, boss.”

“Boss?” Max scoffed. “What did you do? Pay them off? How pathetic.”

“I called him boss because he owns the place.” Eddie scowled, grabbing a fistful of Max’s suit jacket. Mouth gaping his beady eyes flickered between you and Tom.

“Fuck,” he swore as the pin finally dropped. You were surprised it had taken him this long to work it out. There weren’t many Holland’s in town after all.

“In case it isn’t perfectly clear, you’re fired.” you snapped. You watched him get dragged away, the crowd parting like the sea to avoid him.

“What are you all doing here?” you asked as Katelyn wrapped you in a hug from behind.

“Eddie called dad,” Thomas said, as if it was obvious.

“You had him watching me?”

“I always have someone watching you. I need to know you’re safe when I’m not with you.” Pulling you into his arms he captured your mouth, hand possessively winding around the nape of your neck as he kissed you deeply.

“Ew!” Katelyn complained just as Thomas said, “I think I’ve lost my appetite.”

Laughing you pulled back to swat playfully at them both.

“You just made sure I’m forever stuck with your dad, get used to it,” you smiled.

[theonewiththefanfics]

Don’t Worry, Darling (one-shot)

Synopsis: Falling in love with a co-star is something that can hurt, especially when it seems like they’re talking to other people behind your back, but falling in love with a co-star and being unable to help when they’re sick, is even worse.

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, SMUT 

Warnings: COVID-19, sickness, swearing, SMUT (fingering, m going down on f, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it))

Word count: 11 968 (yoikes)

Please note I’m not trying to make light of the pandemic or the virus and those impacted by it. It’s a very real and serious thing, which is why I decided to use it. Please stay safe and healthy, follow the local health guidelines and if you have the ability please get vaccinated. Let’s keep ourselves and one another safe, frens :)

When Y/N got the call she’d gotten the role of Jack’s ex-wife who’d disappeared in mysterious circumstances, she was over the moon. As a Marvel alumnus, she was excited to work with Florence, as she’d loved Midsommar, and knowing she was going to be one of the new faces carrying the next Marvel chapter, she wanted to get to know her. Having played Tony Stark’s adopted daughter since the age of six, she was very protective of the franchise but was excited to see where it’d go.

      Then Shia LaBeouf, Chris Pine as well with Dakota Johnson’s announcements coming soon after, Y/N got even more stoked, and with Olivia Wilde leading all of them, she was sure the movie would be a hit.

      Shia and Dakota had to drop out due to scheduling issues (which Y/N couldn’t lie – she was kind of happy Shia couldn’t do it), and that's where Harry Styles took over the role of Jack with Kiki Layne Dakota’s Margaret.

      Now, when Y/N had seen Harry’s picture next to the re-cast e-mail the whole production had been sent out, she might’ve had a little (a massive, like a ginormous) freak-out. As much as she’d grown up listening to classic rock, due to Robert Downey Jr. and Iron Man, she’d been an avid One Direction fan. Like to the point, it might even seem a bit creepy. Y/N had sort of grown out of the obsessive phase of it all, but most definitely admired the solo albums they’d been able to produce, and when Dunkirk came out, she was excited to see Harry join the acting world, with the amount of talent he had.

      The first table read was sort of awkward, and definitely the weirdest one, given how a pandemic had started, and everyone was at their respective homes using Zoom. 

      Y/N and Florence had been the first to join the conversation about half an hour before the official beginning, and by the time everyone else did, they were crying from laughter and had to excuse themselves from their computers to collect whatever remaining composure they had. 

      “You two alright?” Oliva Wilde had raised her eyebrow, as the women re-joined, still chuckling. “Will we have to use body doubles for the scenes you two are in?”

      “No!

      “Nohooo!” both of them yelled through laughter. “We’ll be as professional as professionals are. Which is very professional.”

      Then Y/N made the mistake of glancing at Florence’s square, and the two busted out laughing again, spewing apologies in between, but no one seemed to really mind. In fact, it looked like they appreciated how casual and open everyone was being, hoping the set wouldn’t be stiff either when they moved onto filming.

      And for the two women, it wasn’t really. Actually, they grew closer than ever. The amount of time Florence spent in Y/N’s trailer was to the point that the two started to talk about just moving in together. After scouring the nearby apartments for rent, they settled on a three-bedroom apartment, as two-bedroom ones were non-existent. 

      When Harry grew closer to them as well, given how he spent quite some time with both women, they suggested he move in as well.

      “You know, what? I changed my mind. You’re taking away our closet, and I don't like that,” Y/N pouted, watching as Florence lifted a pile of her clothes and moved it to her room. “That’s not very ‘treat people with kindness’ of you.”

      All he did was flick a finger at her forehead, which Y/N swatted away with a smile. When he’d double-checked about moving in with them (which, mind you was the seventh time, and half his stuff was already there), the two women were ecstatic. They got along amazingly on set and basically having a sleepover with friends every night suited all of them quite well. 

      At that moment, Y/N was sitting on the edge of her bed, knitting while Harry painted all of their toes and Florence put on facemasks.

      “Wine!” Y/N suddenly exclaimed, almost knocking over the light blue nail polish bottle as she jumped up, throwing her needles back on the bed. “We need wine!”

      “Do not ruin my masterpiece!” Harry hollered after her, as she waddled away on her heels, toes separated by foam and hight up in the air. She even had to manoeuvre around the carpet to avoid any hairs and fibres that could get stuck inside the still wet lacquer.

      It took her a second to find a bottle all three of them could enjoy, given their tastes were so different – Y/N preferred sweet and red, and didn’t care if it was a three-dollar bottle from Target, Harry had a bit more of an expensive pallet, giving preference to something with a more of a lingering aftertaste and in the higher ranges of price point, while Florence liked rosé and white wines.  

      Taking two glasses in one hand and the bottle with a third glass between her fingers, she shuffled back to her room when she heard the two muttering something in low voices before Harry whispered harshly, “I’m not telling Y/N that!” 

      “Won’t me what?” Y/N’s question made him and Florence spring back where they’d been engaged in a heated conversation when she re-entered the room, putting the wine bottle and glasses on the nightstand.

      Florence waved her off, giving her a smile, she didn’t believe in. “Nothing. Now come on, Harry will do your fingernails now, and I think it’s about time the mask came off.”

      And that’s when Y/N’s heart dropped. She’d been in the industry long enough to know how fake people could be, how they could put on smiles so inviting and friendly while hiding their true intentions behind them. She just didn’t think two people she’d found so genuine and sweet would be like that.

      And the thing was – it wasn’t the first time she’d heard the two whispering like that and hushing up when they saw her enter the room or even come somewhere near to them. 

In the beginning, Y/N had chalked it up to the two being closer, given they had to spend more time together, so they knew one another better, but this time sort of solidified it wasn’t the fact the two were closer, it had to deal with Y/N specifically.

      So, she started to distance herself. She’d had enough users in her life to last her for the rest of it. Y/N excused herself from the movie nights they had on most Fridays, she no longer joined in on the cooking sessions and mostly spent time in her room, or on work calls.

      When she re-entered the flat, four weeks after their falling out, they watched as she nodded to them, and went inside her room, closing the door, much like she’d been doing for the past thirty days. 

      “Do you think she knows?” Harry asked, brows furrowed and bottom lip between his teeth as he hoped the doors would open, yet, obviously, they didn’t. 

      “Well, I haven’t told her, and unless you did, then I doubt it…”

      Harry stood up, running a hand through his hair. “I’m gonna talk to her.”

      “You think it’s a good idea?”

      “No, but if she’s upset maybe she needs to talk to someone.”

      “Or maybe she wants to be alone.”

      Harry bit his lip thinking over Florence’s words. When he was upset about something, he himself did like to kind of retreat and become a little bit of a recluse, to sort out his emotions before anyone else tried to jump in and help with it, but the thing was – Y/N’s distancing started the night when she’d walked in on the two of them arguing, and it’d been about the girl in question herself, so he shook his head. “I’ll just ask if she’s alright.”

      He took a deep breath and went to enter the room he hadn’t seen in almost a month. “Hey.” Harry poked his head through Y/N’s door, making her swirl around in her chair. She looked adorable to him. She’d changed into a big fluffy nightgown, the hood up, a headband pushing hair away from her face with a green facemask covering her skin. The domestic life flashed through Harry’s head like a freight train, as it was something he craved, but pushed it away. There was no daydreaming before figuring out what was in front of him in reality. “You okay?”

      “ 'M fine.” She shot him a quick smile. “Why? Did Olivia send something new for the script?”

      “Um, no, ‘s just you’ve been, I dunno – detached a bit?”

      “Look, Harry… I may be younger than you, but I’ve been in this industry longer than you or Florence.” Y/N stood and shrugged before crossing her arms. “And the thing is – I don’t care for shit like that. So, you two can gossip and whisper and talk whatever you want about me behind my back. Everyone else is doing that so, you’re not that special. But’ I’d prefer if you did it somewhere else besides my room, my space, and I’ll say this once, but very clearly – we’re not friends. I don’t need friends like you. We’ll be civil and we’ll do our jobs, but…” Harry’s heart broke at her eyes, seeing the pain in them as she nodded and made sure he understood where she stood. “We’re not friends.”

      She didn’t leave any room for argument. When Harry left, Y/N didn’t even look over her shoulder to see him exit.

      The next couple of mornings she didn’t see them leave nor come back, seeing as Y/N had the week off from filming, but the morning of the seventh day was awkward as hell, given how all of them had to go and get tested, and well, they had their allocated time slots one after the other. Usually, they’d take one car together, but this time, Y/N drove off on her own, while Harry and Florence carpooled on their own.

      The tests were always nerve-wracking. If one person went down, the whole production did for at least two weeks. And as much as she hated going in alone, she was glad no one was with her in the car, because as she stepped out, a certain notion swept over her that this would be a lot different than usual.

      A doctor dressed head to toe in protective gear motioned for her to sit down, as another processed her ID and work ID. Her leg was bouncing up and down the whole time, and he eyed her. If she could see his lips, she was sure they’d be pursed. “Anything wrong?” He handed her back the IDs before moving to the table where a set of large q-tips seemed to lay in sterile packs.

      Y/N sighed, biting her lip and nodded. “Woke up with a sore throat and a small cough appeared on my way here as well. I wiped and cleaned everything down at the apartment I’m staying at and wore gloves and a mask the whole time.”

      “Anything else?” the doctor asked, writing down each word as Y/N said. “The feeling of breaking bones, fever, muscle pain, eyes hurting when you look up, lost sense of smell or taste?”

      “No, nothing like that. Just a sore throat and a small cough.”

The doctor let out a large sigh, probably from having to wear a full-on hazmat suit. “Alright. Just for safety reasons, so we know who’s a potential contact person, who are you staying with?”

      “Florence Pugh and Harry Styles. We’re renting an apartment together.”

      “Do you know if they’ve had any symptoms?”

      “No,” Y/N shook her head honestly. “And I haven’t really interacted with them this past week, as they’ve been on set, and I didn’t have any scenes to film, and by the time they get back, I’m already asleep, and I’m still asleep when they leave so there’s been no direct contact. We have our own kitchenware, so there shouldn’t be any direct contact. I think.”

      That last bit was half-true, seeing as she hadn’t been asleep when they came back, but she might as well have been. The second Y/N heard the door click, she’d place her headphones on or leave the room, only glimpsing the two faces falling as she did that.

      The doctor clearing his throat and motioning for Y/N to open her mouth so he could take a swab and then to do the same for both her nostrils, was what brought her out of it. She was so used to it, it was like nothing at that point. “Okay. We’ll need you to stay in the car while the test is being run, and if it comes back positive, you’ll be placed in a separate flat, as to not endanger the rest.”

      Her ‘alright’ was barely audible. Fuck. It just felt like the universe was against her. First, the two people she’d gotten closest to were whispering behind her back and being fake to her face, now she might have a super contagious virus to which there was no medicine really, nor was there a vaccine, let alone the thought she’d have to miss filming for potentially more than two weeks.

      The thirty minutes of wait were agonizing, her leg bouncing up and down. Y/N’s eyes kept watching the line of cars slowly move forward through the tent and then settle behind hers. She knew Harry was about five cars away, and she was glad he wasn’t closer. They weren’t really allowed to get out of their vehicles while the tests were being run, and Y/N didn’t think she’d be able to not look back at him through her review mirror. 

      Two more minutes passed when finally, one of the med students in the full hazmat suit came up and knocked on her car window.

      “Miss Y/L/N?”

      “Yes?” 

      “ID please.” It was standard so that no med info got leaked. The only reason she had to rummage through her stuff was, because she’d bite the little plastic card in half if she didn’t throw it somewhere deep inside her bag.

      “So.” The man sighed, and he didn’t need to elaborate. Y/N understood, but still, he had to confirm it to her. “Your test came back positive for COVID-19. The production has been informed, and for safety reasons, everyone will have to self-isolate for two weeks.”

      Y/N’s head slammed against the back of the seat. “Fuck. Okay.”

      “Because so far, you’re the only positive case, you’ll be placed into quarantine. We’ll need the address you’re staying at, and if you need anything from your apartment, we can send someone over to grab a few things. You’ll have to follow the black SUV right there.” He pointed further down the lot where indeed a black SUV stood. “They’ll take you to where the quarantine apartments are. Is there anything immediate you’ll need?”

      “I – uh – I need my pills, my birth control that is. I take it every evening. Computer, chargers. That’s the most immediate I can think of. Maybe some food? I didn’t get the chance to eat breakfast.”

      Even through the mask, Y/N could see the man smile. “Well arrange that. In the meantime, here’s the number for the coordinators who’ll get you the rest of your things and deliver them to you.”

      “Thank you. I’ll call my assistant, and she’ll drive down to the apartment. She knows where everything is.”

      “Have you been in close contact with her?”

      “Just through the phone. She hasn’t been on set in almost a month, as I told her only to come when it’s an emergency… Guess this is it.” Y/N let out an awkward chuckle.

      And truly that was it. With one last motion as to where the SUV stood, she started back up the engine, reversed out of the spot and followed the car to where the ‘Don’t Worry Darling’ production had set up a few quarantine apartments, specifically for actors and crew, speed-dialling her assistant Anna and letting her know of the situation.

      “Shit, girl,” she’d cursed. “That sucks.”

      “Tell me about it.”

      “Okay,” Anna huffed. “Do you have a spare key for the apartment by any case or do I need to go down to the lot and ask Harry or Florence?”

      “Both of them will be at the apartment, given how everything’s shut down, so they should be able to open the door for you. Hopefully, if both of them are negative. If not, call me, I’ll tell you where we hide the spare. Thank you, Anna.”

      “Of course.”

      As Y/N pulled up behind the SUV, a man and a woman in face guards and masks stepped out. She ended the call and stepped out as well, pulling on a cloth face mask, an envelope in their hands, which they handed to her.

      “Your flat’s on the third floor, 367. When you have the list of things you need, forward them to us, and we’ll gather your things.”

      Y/N nodded and gave them a tight smile. “Thank you. I’ll be as quick as I can.”

      With a sigh, she took her bag and entered the complex. As much as she’d only had a small cough in the morning and a sore throat, walking up those flights of stairs made her winded more than it usually would. Maybe it was the knowledge she had a sickness, or maybe it was stress about missing work and putting everyone on lockdown, or maybe it was the combination of it all with her falling out with Harry and Florence on top.

      She placed the key in the lock and twisted, revealing a studio type apartment, and it was so bare it made her heart clench. As much as she felt awkward being around Florence and Harry, their flat was a bit messy, had little pieces of clothing thrown around, giant knitted blankets on the sofas, a candle always lit whenever someone was home. Harry’s shoes were typically all over the place while Y/N’s make up was scattered around everywhere. Literally. Florence and Harry had gotten back early one morning from a night shoot and found her looking under the sofas for one of her lash glues as she started to get ready for the day. They’d made that flat their home for the time being. This… this was nothing like that.

      She threw the keys on the small kitchen counter and shrugged off her jacket. They was going to be a long two weeks. At best.

 ***

       Back at their place, Florence and Harry were pacing around, having heard the news that someone was positive, and everything had to shut down for the time being, yet Y/N was nowhere to be seen when a knock at the door disrupted them.

      Harry was there and flinging it open in a matter of a second, only to be stopped by Anna instead of Y/N.

      “Hey.” His brows furrowed as she and two people all wearing masks and gloves entered. “What’s going on? Is Y/N alright?”

      Anna sighed, nodding her head for the two strangers to go towards the woman’s room. “She was the one who tested positive for the virus. Gave me a list of the things she’d need while in quarantine. We’re here to pick ‘em up and get them to her.”

      “And she’s not doing that here?”

      “Per the safety instructions, she’s been placed in a separate flat in self-isolation.”

      “She could’ve done that here. We’d be fine with it,” Florence butted in, arms crossed over her chest. “We’re more than willing to take care of her. She’ll need someone to help her.”

      “You both tested negative.” One of the people piped up, carrying a box of books and yarn. “I’m sorry, but she’ll have to quarantine separately until she’s no longer infected. She’s under the supervision of doctors, and she knows if an emergency happens, they’ll be there in ten minutes tops. I’m sorry, but this is how it has to be.”

      Harry sighed, nodding as the people exited their place, but before Anna could leave, he took hold of her bicep. “Hey, can you please tell her to call me? I just wanna talk.”

      “I uh – ” Anna furrowed her brows, showing Harry that Y/N hadn’t said anything to her about the falling out they’d had. “I’ll uh, yeah. I’ll do that.”

      With that he was left to close the door and just wait for… anything.

 ***

       In the two hours Y/N had spent in the apartment, she already felt like going insane, having been left alone with her thoughts, so how she was going to do another two weeks after finally getting back into the rhythm of work was beyond her. She didn’t have any of her knitting supplies, didn’t have any of her books (yet), and most likely there was no reason to look at her script anymore, as she’d made up her mind about a lot of things. 

      There was a knock at the door, and Y/N instantly had a mask on her face and gloves on her hands. She peeped through the peephole and when she saw boxes lined in the hallway, three people in masks and faceguards at least six feet away, only then did she open the door and give them a wave.

      “Everything should be here, but if you need anything else just pop me a message.” Anna then pointed at a bag that sat atop everything. “There are the most important things, so you don’t have to rummage through everything and a pizza is on the way while I do some grocery shopping for you. And umm, there’s a paper you need to sing that you know you need to be in self-isolation and that you understand what happens if you’re not.”

      Y/N hoped all of them understood she was smiling underneath the mask, grateful for having them help her out like that. “Thank you. So much.”

      She rushed inside found a pen and signed it, moving between the boxes to place the papers on the stairs so that they could be safely retrieved. With that, the two assigned people left, leaving Anna to say goodbye.

      “Call me.” She pointed at Y/N. “No matter what, even if you just wanna talk for five seconds.”

      “Will do.” Y/N nodded and gave her a thumbs up. “If I could, I’d hug you.”

      Anna sighed, cocking her head. “Same. And umm, Harry told me to ask you to call him.”

      “Yeah, uh thank you.” She knew he probably wanted to talk, so it wasn’t that big of a surprise, but it still made her stumble on her words. “Take care, Anna.”

      “You too.”

***

       The next two days Y/N spent worrying as to how to present her decisions to the cast and crew. She felt worse with every hour, and with that had come her thought process, but as much as everyone was going to be impacted by what she was going to do, Olivia would be the one dealing with it most, so later that night she hopped on a Zoom call with her director.

      “Hey, girl.” Olivia gave her a warm smile, and Y/N almost melted. God, she loved that woman. She was like the older sister she never had. “How are you doing?”

      “I’m alright. Feelin’ kind of woozy from time to time, throat’s killing me, and I’m fairly certain I’m getting abs from how much I’m coughing.” That made both of them chuckle before Y/N bit her lip and ran a hand through her hair. “Look,” she sighed, looking at Olivia. “The reason I called you is that umm… well, I think it’d be a lot more cost-effective for you to re-cast me. We’ve barely shot one scene with me. I’ll be out of commission for two weeks, as a minimum. It could get worse. And I’m definitely not going to be back before I get two negative consecutive tests.”

      Olivia shook her head, running down her hands over her face and then through her hair. “Y/N, I really don’t want to do this. There’s a reason we cast you. You’re amazing, and yours and Harry’s chemistry is off the charts. We’re all quarantining for two weeks, and I’m sure you’ll be fine in no time, back on set and killing it like you always do.”

      “You don’t know that.”

      “Of course, I do! Nothing’s gonna happen to you.”

      “All I’m saying it could take up to a month to get those two negative tests. By that point, you could’ve shot at least a fourth of my scenes. Olivia…” Y/N gave her a small, sad smile. “I know you know I’m right. I hate to pass on this, but I won’t hinder the production. If you want my input, I’ll help with the re-casting, if it takes the guilt away.”

      “I still feel like shit this is an option we even have to consider.”

      “’S not your fault. You didn’t get me sick. We should be happy it’s just me, not someone else or more than one person.”

            ***

      For two more days, it was radio silence from Y/N, and Harry and Florence were anxious messes. If they could distract themselves from the falling out while on set, then now, having to be cooped up inside the apartment with pretty much nothing to do, was so much worse, not to mention Y/N declined all of their calls and left their messages on read, leaving the only option for checking in either through Anna or what she decided to share on her social media, which wasn’t a lot. But the thing was, Harry knew his best bet was to call Y/N in the middle of the night. Disorientated and barely awake, she probably wouldn’t look at the caller ID once. And he was right.

      A bleary face appeared on his screen, eyes squinting as she tried to block out as much of the light as possible. “Hello?” Her voice was scratchy, and Harry’s heart clenched at just how much pain her throat must be in, let alone how she was feeling as a whole.

      “Hey, there, lovie.”

      It took her a second to comprehend the person who was speaking, and she’d be lying if she said hearing Harry’s voice didn’t bring her some sort of joy. “Hey, H. Are you alright? Why are you still up?”

      “I couldn’t sleep. Kept thinking about you.”

      Y/N hummed, rolling on her side, and immediately regretting it as the action elicited a coughing fit. “Yeah?” she asked hoarsely. “ ’Nd what about me?”

      ‘How shitty I feel about everything’, ‘I miss you’, ‘I’m so fucking terrified’, but instead he asked, “How are you doing?”

      “Alright,” Y/N croaked out before her body was racked with coughs once more. Harry’s own chest hurt just hearing them. “Fever’s finally down, so I’m getting some sort of sleep. Throat’s killing me though, and they’ve hooked me up to an IV. They’ll be coming in two hours or so to change the bag. How are you?” she asked quietly. “How’s Florence?”

      “She’s alright. Upset. Just like I am.”

      Y/N’s brows furrowed. “Why’re you upset?”

      “Are you kidding me? You’re sick, alone in quarantine and… and we can’t help you. I can’t help you.”

      A genuine chuckle escaped her. “Didn’t know you had a medical degree, Styles. Could be my personal nurse. Fetch me my water and shit.”

      “No, but at least I’d like to be there for you.”

      “Harry…” 

      “I like you,” he said after taking a deep breath, hoping that the break he’d heard in Y/N’s voice as she’d said his name wasn’t just because of the sickness, but because her heart thudded just as fast as his when he thought of them together, that her mind reeled with the possibilities of where their futures could take them and that whenever they touched, she could feel the electricity that ran through his fingertips, igniting his whole body. “That’s what Florence and I were whispering about all the time. Is that I’m madly crushing on you, and I couldn’t gather the courage to say it to you.”

      A strong coughing fit made her drop the phone on the bed and lean over, as she gasped for breath, and through it all, all Harry wanted was to be there. Fuck him possibly getting the virus, as long as he could make it easier for her in some way. 

      “ ’M sorry,” Y/N whispered, trying to keep her voice as low as possible as to not aggravate her throat. “Harry, I’m so sorry.”

      “Hey, there’s nothing to apologise. You’re sick, you can’t help –”

      “No,” she shook her head. “I’m sorry I assumed you and Florence were talking bad behind my back. I never should’ve done that. And this is not an excuse, I’m not trying to shift the blame from being in the wrong, but I like you too.” She gave him a shy grin that he thought was as bright as the sun. “I really like you too, Harry. I think that’s why it hurt so much to hear you two whispering ‘bout something. And thinking it was about me, and it was something bad, hurt even more, ‘cause I really connected with Flo, and I kinda, well I kind of fell for you. Hard.”

      “You did?” His tone was like he didn’t believe what his ears were hearing.

      “Yeah. A lot actually… I – I really like you, Harry.”

      He couldn’t explain how his heart expanded in his chest while simultaneously was being crushed by his inability to help, by the distance between them, while the hope that glimmered in his eyes at Y/N’s words made her heart break as much as his was, when he asked, “So you won’t resign?”

“Harry,” Y/N made her voice as tough as it could sound with her condition. “I told them to re-cast me not because of you. I’ve been on enough sets and worked with enough pricks, and still gotten the job done. Genuinely, this is not because of you or Florence. I just – I just don’t want to hold up production. You’ll all be out in what – twelve days or something? I’ll be here for at least twice that, if everything goes the way it’s going right now.”

      “I don’t want anyone else to play Larie. You are my Larie,” he muttered, which made Y/N smile, but in a true Y/N fashion she just wanted to make others feel better. 

      “You do know Jack murders Larie in the middle of the night.”

      Harry’s mouth opened like a fishes’ while Y/N’s mouth pulled up in a grin. “That’s – that’s not what I mean, and you know it!”

      Both of them were laughing now, all tension having evaporated. 

      “I know.” She bit on her lower lip. “But um… we’ve gotta be practical. I sent Olivia my resignation letter already, and she signed.”

      She saw Harry sigh and throw back his head at her words. 

      “ ’M sorry, Haz. I didn’t want to but –”

      “I know.” His smile was gentle, understanding. “You always put everyone before yourself. God, this just sucks major ass.”

      “Trust me,” Y/N started before being interrupted by another major coughing fit. “I –,” she took in a breath. “I know.”

      Her heart cracked seeing Harry’s face and his green eyes, the eyes she’d gotten lost in more times than she’d ever admitted being lined by tears. “I wish I could help you.”

      “But you are. Just by – by talking to me, by keeping my mind off things. You’re helping me more than you’ll ever know.”

      “When you get out, I’m taking you on a date.”

      Y/N couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on her face. For the first time in a while, she felt good, despite being sick. “Is that a threat, Styles?”

      “It’s a fucking promise.”

      That night she fell asleep listening to Harry talking, seeing as it became harder and harder for her to do so, so he just took over, telling her stories that lulled her to dreamland where he was there, and she could touch him. 

      The following days she also had calls with Florence and the rest of her cast to explain the situation, but she wasn’t doing much talking anymore, and one night they’d even seen her almost throw up from coughing so much, which broke everyone’s hearts. They were lucky the only Covid case before Y/N had been a light one, so witnessing just how brutal it could be, made everyone appreciate what they had, but at the same time, feel as helpless as ever.

      A week and a half in, that was when shit really hit the fan. Despite her feeling shitty the previous days, now Y/N woke up from the feeling as if she was drowning. She’d fallen asleep while talking with Harry on FaceTime, his features illuminated on her phone. At first, she thought it was just her dream still lingering and causing that effect, but when after a minute or so her lungs still remained on fire, she knew she had to dial the doctors.

      In five minutes’ time, an ambulance was at her door, and it was a miracle she’d been able to get out of bed to open it because the second she did, her whole body pretty much collapsed into the arms of one of the nurses. 

*** 

      “Come on,” Harry muttered into the phone, pulling on a pair of trousers as quickly as possible and a knitted sweater he took from the floor as he immediately tried to redial her, having heard the call drop. “Come on! Pick up, Y/N!” Her voicemail answered instead.

      “Damn it!”

      It took Harry seven minutes with the way he was driving to get to her assigned isolation place, only to be greeted by red and blue flashing lights, an ambulance right in front of the entrance, and it took Harry five seconds to feel his heart drop as a team of three doctors wheeled out a gurney on which lay Y/N, face covered in a mask, an IV stuck inside her arm while a huge plastic cover domed over her body.

      Without even thinking about himself or his safety, Harry jumped out of his car, rushing towards the ambulance.

      “Sir.” One of the doctors extended a palm towards him, keeping him back as Harry tried to get towards the inside of the car. “Sir, you can’t be here.”

      “Is that Y/N?” Harry felt like he was spinning out of control, and his mind was dizzy from not being able to take in a proper breath. “Is – is that Y/N?” 

      “Are you family?”

      “I –,” Harry so desperately wanted to say yes, to say he was her boyfriend at least, but he couldn’t lie. “No, I’m just her collegue – friend! I’m her friend. Is she alright?”

      “Okay, well is there anyone we can contact from her family?”

      Harry nodded, knowing that her mum and dad were on her emergency contact lists. “But her family is out of the country, and they won’t be able to fly out with all the restrictions in place.”

      “Alright.” The doctor sighed before looking back inside the car. In a way, Harry was happy he couldn’t see Y/N because he was sure if he did, he’d completely break down and crumble to the ground. “We’ll contact her parents, but if you could leave us your number as an emergency contact on place that’d be a lot of help.”

      “Okay, uh…” Harry took in a deep breath, held it for five seconds and then let it out before reciting the number he used while in the USA and his permanent UK number as well, so he could be reachable anywhere and at any point in day or night, no matter the time. 

      “Well keep you up to date.”

      And with that, the ambulance doors shut, and they rushed away, the vailing of sirens echoing in the dark night, leaving Harry with a hand in his hair, tears streaming down his cheeks and without a clue as to what to do.

***

      In the end, Harry had gone back to his car and cried for what felt like ages, but instead, it was just twenty minutes. He pulled himself together but was still shaking as he made his way back to the flat where Florence basically ripped open the door. Seeing his face told her everything she needed to know.

      “She’ll be alright,” the woman muttered as she soothed Harry by rubbing a palm up and down his back, letting him hide his face in her shoulder. “It’s Y/N. She’d pull through an atomic bomb.”

      They spent the rest of the night and the following day on the couch, glued to Harry’s phone waiting for any sort of updates. From time to time a text message came from the hospital letting them know what procedures were being done on Y/N, that her parents have been informed, and if necessary, they’d allowed Harry to be the main contact person because of his proximity to their daughter.

      Three days later and the quarantine for the rest of the cast and crew ended, yet when they returned to the set, everyone was in low spirits. Especially, Harry – he was miserable. Every moment spent not reciting lines or acting was occupied with the thoughts of Y/N, how she was doing, was she improving, was she still breathing, how he wanted to just ditch everything and run to her, to help in whatever way he could.

      “This sucks,” Florence grumbled, arms crossed over her chest as they took a break while re-setting already in for the fifth day of filming, eight since Y/N’d been in the hospital. “Can’t believe they won’t allow a phone in with her.”

      “It’s the same policy for everyone, but trust me,” Harry sighed and looked up at the bright blue sunny sky above. “The number of times I got out of my bed in the middle of the night and had the car keys in hand is ridiculous. And the number of times I’ve thought about breaking into that hospital is even more concerning.”     

      Florence let out a small chuckle and nudged his shoulder. “I’d cover for you if you did. As long as she doesn’t have to be there alone.” She hung her head, blond strands falling down to curtain her face. “Can’t imagine how scared she must be.”

      Harry just sighed. There really wasn’t anything he could say. 

      Something vibrated in his pocket, but he no longer furrowed his brows when unknown numbers called, knowing it was from the hospital. It was nerve-wracking though to pick up the call each time because he had to mentally prepare himself for the possibility of bad news, even though he always hoped for good ones. 

      “Yes, hi. Hello. I – oh,” he put a hand over his mouth and sagged down onto a chair. “Oh, thank god, thank you, doctor. Yeah. Yes, I’ll let her know, and someone will be there to open the flat. Thank you again. For everything.”

      He took away the phone from his ear and stared at the ground for a minute before leaping up and hugging Florence, laughter escaping his mouth.

      “What’s wrong?”

      “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong, it’s the opposite. Y/N��s out of the hospital.”

      “Oh thank god!” Her hands flew to hug him back.

      “She’ll have to stay in self-isolation until the two negative tests and will be monitored by the doctors, but she’s out.”

        Immediately he was dialling her, and Harry had never been as happy for the invention of a video call, because when he saw Y/N’s face light up the screen, as tired as she looked, it was the most beautiful sight that graced his eyes.

      “Hey, lovie.” His voice was soft and low as if anything louder would worsen her state.

      Her ‘hey’ was barely audible, but he heard it, and it made the weight of a boulder drop off his shoulders.

      “I’m so – I mean we all are so happy you’re back home.”

      Y/N smiled, shaking her head. “I’m happy too,” she whispered. “I missed you. Missed everyone, but most of all I missed you.”

      Harry was happy they were separated by a screen because if she was anywhere in a five-mile radius, he was sure she would be able to hear his heart beat out of his ribcage at her words. “How are you feeling?”

      “ ‘M alright,” Y/N tried to let him know. “Very tired.”

      “Then get back to sleep, lovie.”

      Y/N shook her head. “Wanna talk to you.”

      “I’ll keep talking,” Harry promised. “Like we did before, okay.”

      “Okay…”

      And so, he did. He kept talking as Y/N listened, and he watched as her eyes slowly closed before she drifted off to sleep. Even though Harry had to go back to filming, he didn’t dare end the call. He’d never end the call. 

***

      It took a month and a half for Y/N to get those two consecutive negative tests, to feel somewhat human again and when she did, she probably garnered at least seven speeding tickets with how fast she was driving down to the set.

      It was the most inconspicuous outfit she could scramble together, consisting of a hoodie and baseball cap, as she watched Harry as Jack lean down to peck the actress’s lips, then step into the vintage car and rev out in the driveway, while a dishevelled Florence started the scene from the side, eyes racking over Jack’s first wife, who was dressed the exact same way, hair styled like hers and even nails painted the same, her character putting all the puzzle pieces together. 

      “And cut!” Olivia yelled across the lot, nudging Y/N’s side and giving her a smirk. “He’s gonna freak. You’re all he’s been talking about on set. We almost had to put a ban on you as a topic,” she muttered that part so only the woman could hear while telling everyone to re-set, so they could do the scene from another angle, but not before asking the three actors to come and look at the monitors so they could understand how to move in order to keep the continuity.

      Y/N moved to the side, ducking her head down as Harry, Florence and Mandy, the actress that took over her role, all leaned closer to watch the monitors. Y/N had to bite on her lip to keep the grin away, as all of them analysed their movements and the scene, nodding along to what Olivia was saying.

      “Y/L/N, what do you think?” Olivia asked, grinning. 

      Y/N stepped forward a bit, seeing all of their shocked faces through her peripheral, as she pointed to the screen, lifting her head so that everyone could see her face fully. “I think it’s great, you might want to step to the side a bit more, Harry, when –” but she was unable to finish the sentence as he swooped her in his arms, lifting her basically off the ground, and burying his face in her neck.

      “Watch the hair! Daniele will have a fit if you ruin her masterpiece!” Y/N laughed, holding one of her hands on the base of his neck, the other tightly wrapped around his shoulders, but he just shook his head, and she could feel tears splash her skin.

      “Fuck the hair!” He let out a small chuckle, and she could hear the lump in his throat. “I’ve missed you so much. I was so scared.”

      “Same,” Y/N whispered. “Missed you like crazy. And your stupid, unfunny dad jokes.”

      “ ‘M hilarious, lovie, what are you talking about?”

      He finally set her down but didn’t let go of her waist, and she smiled cupping his cheeks. “A true comedian, that’s what you are.”

      “I know. Why’dya think I got that SNL slot?”

      But his eyes, as he gazed into hers once more glassed over.

      “Hey,” Y/N cooed wiping away the tears running down his cheeks. “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry, cause then I’ll cry, and we’re both gonna be crying messes, and then these guys will have to deal with that.”

      Harry sighed, leaning into her touch. “Happy tears, lovie. All happy tears.”

      The two looked at one another as if there was no one else in the universe. And for the two of them, there really wasn’t. Neither had to say what was on their minds, they already knew.

      His face was inching closer to Y/N’s, and heart started to beat erratically, not that Harry minded, as his palm rested in the middle of her back. In fact, his own heart mimicked the rhythm, but it stuttered when someone behind him cleared their throat and interrupted their moment.

      Y/N hid her face in Harry’s chest as he sighed at Olivia’s raised eyebrow. 

      “You’ll be able to smooch as much as you want, but we need him in hair and make-up.”

      “Oli-“

      “Now,” she let out a small laugh. “Before Daniele removes my head from my shoulders.”

      “Go,” Y/N patted his side. “I’ll still be here.”

      “Is that a threat?”

      She grinned up at him. “A fucking promise.”

      Harry dashed away like lightning, hoping that the quicker he was done, the sooner he could have Y/N back in his arms even if it was for a second, but her attention was taken by a woman with long blond curls, a flowing green slip on her figure; her steps unsure as was the wave she gave her, but Y/N’s heart melted at the sight of her.

      “Hey, Flo,” she whispered and brought the girl in a bone-crushing hug, holding onto her, trying to convey how much she regretted her words and actions, especially because they were unwarranted.

      “I’m so sorry,” Y/N said, and she nodded.

      “Me too.”

      Y/N shook her head. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

      “And I should’ve made sure Harry pulled his head out of his ass.”

      That made both of them laugh, and it was nice to do it not only without having to cough up her insides, but to do it with someone she’d connected with and had become great friends with.

      “He did that. I just hope if he wants to make another move, it won’t take me dying to push him to.”

      Florence pointed at her, a serious look on her face. “I’ll kill him with my bare hands if he does.”

      A small noise of someone clearing their throat from behind Y/N took both of their attentions for them to go onto the actress who’d been cast as her replacement, the woman coming forward and extending her hand for a handshake with a nervous smile. “Hi. I’m Mandy.”

      “ ‘S very nice to meet you.” Y/N tried to give off as open and accepting of a vibe as much as possible, because she genuinely wanted Mandy to feel respected and that she wasn’t a threat. “Before you think anything if you’re worried about me taking the role, don’t. It’s all yours, so don’t worry about that. I just stopped by ‘cause I hadn’t seen anyone in almost two months. Never thought I’d say this, but fuck did I missed people.”

      Mandy shook her head, her smile a lot lighter and brighter now. “I – uh thank you for that actually. I’m a huge fan of yours, and well, can only try and live up to what you would’ve portrayed.”

      “Well, I’m sure you’ll absolutely kill it, and I can’t wait for the movie.”

      It was great to see Mandy’s shoulders drop in relief. “Would it be too much if I asked for advice on the role?”

      “No,” Y/N laughed. “But I would say that you should make this role your own. It is yours. You are Larie now. And Harry’s Jack. Make it yours.”

      As she said that, she turned to watch Harry who was practically bouncing on his feet, green eyes flitting back to where she was standing, and when their gazes met, neither could help the smiles blooming on their faces.

       “You know he messed up a scene once and said your name?”    

      Y/N’s brows furrowed as she looked over at Mandy. “What do you mean ‘said my name’?”

      “It was a kissing scene. The wedding bit, actually. As Jack and Larie recited their vows, and he leans down to kiss her, he was supposed to say, ‘I’ll love you Larie, until the very end’. He said your name instead.”

      That hit Y/N more than a semi-truck wheeling a ton of bricks would. Yes, she knew Harry liked her, and he knew she liked him, but love was a big word, and for him to admit that, whether it was a flub or not, was even bigger.

      Harry was a private person. While he openly talked about what he felt, he guarded heart at the same time, much like Y/N did. But she had to wait until Olivia yelled cut for the day, and had to watch him make a mad dash for hair and make-up before running to the dressing trailer as he didn’t want to miss out on a second he could spend with her. Even as they walked up to their shared flat and he opened the door, his fingers stayed intertwined with hers.

      “How does it feel to be back?”

      “Kinda shitty, honestly,” Y/N laughed throwing the keys to the table and shrugging out of the jacket and taking off the cap, Harry immediately helping her and putting it on one of the racks. “I’ll have to move out, now that I’m not part of the movie.”

      “Why? ‘S not like the production is paying our rent, we’re doing it out of our own pocket.”

      “Yes, but now that I don’t have a job, I kinda need to look for one.”

      “And what says that you can’t live here while you do that?”

      “I –,” Y/N’s brows furrowed. “I mean nothing, really… I just… kinda thought because I’m not part of the movie anymore it’d be safer if I found my own place. But um… I think I have something else I’d like to talk about. Mandy,” Y/N dragged out her name a bit, a sly smirk appearing on her face, “told me you had a flub on set.”

      Harry’s heart was pounding underneath her palm where she’d grabbed onto the lapels of his dress shirt, so he couldn’t run away. 

“I’ve uh,” he let out a nervous laugh. “I’ve had a couple of flubs on set. Who hasn’t?”

      “I don’t doubt that. But she said you misspoke a name.”

      She made him look into her eyes and wouldn’t dare let their gaze break. “You said my name during the wedding scene. You said Y/N. Not Larie.”

      Harry looked like a cross between a deer in headlights and a fish out of the water, eyes wide with his mouth opening and closing, no sound coming out, which made Y/N worry a bit.

      She placed a palm against his cheek. “Harry? You alright?”

      “I – I meant it.” He let out a deep sigh and leaned down to press his forehead to hers. “And when I thought back on it, I don’t remember seeing her face or Larie’s face. It was yours. And the lips I was kissing belonged to you too. I was holding your hand, and you were holding mine. And I know it’s way too quick, for a wedding -”

      “Unless you threaten me with it –”

      “I –,” Harry stuttered before laughing, all tension evaporating from his body. “No, that I don’t want to be a threat. That will be a question asked with love and hopefully an answer given to it the same way.”

      Y/N nudged his nose with hers. “Well, we’ll see. I mean if you don’t kiss me what makes you th–,” 

      But she didn’t get a chance to finish the sentence before his lips were on hers, pressing with such gentleness, it made her weak at the knees, and she would’ve crumbled if Harry’s arms handn’t woven around her middle, fingers pressing into the sides, the pressure increasing with each second their mouths were connected. 

      Harry’s hand drifted up Y/N’s back and settled on her neck as if he could pull her any closer, her own palms slipping over his stomach, pecks and grabbing onto his jaw, fingers lightly scratching at the stubble that’d grown throughout the day. He had to shave every morning for the role of Jack, but each evening she’d see a small, darkened shadow across his skin, and Y/N would be lying that when she’d realised her attraction to him, she hadn’t thought about how delicious it would feel to have it leave small burn marks on the inside of her thighs. 

      Unconsciously, she clenched her thighs, trying to create some sort of friction which became more and more unbearable as she felt Harry moan into her mouth, tongue sweeping against her lower lip, asking for permission without words, which Y/N granted without a second to spare. 

      It was heavenly to have him so close to her. She did wonder if the sensation was intensified by the fact, she hadn’t been able to touch anyone properly for almost two months, but that thought vanished when his fingers skimmed underneath her hoodie, brushing against her heated skin. No. It was because it was Harry.

       “I –,” he was breathless as he pulled away, but Y/N didn’t let him get too far, her lips attaching themselves to his neck, making him groan in pleasure. “I don’t want to push this too far.”

      Her brows scrunched up, as she took a look at him. “What do you mean? If you think I don’t want this, then let me be perfectly clear – I do. A lot.”

      Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m so fucking glad you do, but… Y/N you just got out of the hospital, where you were on a ventilator. I don’t want to make anything worse.”

      “Not your choice to make.” A devious smile appeared on her face, as she stepped a few feet away and lifted her hoodie over her head, making Harry inhale sharply. “So here are your two options.” Her hands went behind her back, unclasping her bra and letting it slowly drop to the floor, the green eyes that hadn’t left her now wide as saucers. “Number one.” She toed off her boots and popped open the button of her jeans. “We can stop this, obviously, just say the word, and I get to my room, start packing and looking for a new place. We can have some dinner and just chill. Or number two.” Y/N hooked her jeans behind her thumbs and slowly dragged them down her legs, revealing more and more of herself to Harry. “We can go inside your room and make up for the lost time. In every position imaginable, for as long as you want. But.” Y/N’s eyes glimmered with mischief as she made her way to Harry’s room. “I don’t think you wanna take the first option.”

      Harry ran a hand through his hair, turning it from the meticulously gelled hairstyle into a mop of messy strands. “You know you’re making it really hard for me to be a gentleman.”

      Y/N swayed her hips a bit more as she took another step closer to his room, the door meeting her back, and one of her hands went to the doorknob, pressing down on it. “Well, a gentleman doesn’t kiss before the first date, and definitely not like that.”

      He stood there, hands on his hips, eyes not leaving her body, as she cocked her head. “So, what’s it gonna be?”

      They were ten torturous seconds for both, hearts beating out of their chests, but it only took three steps for Harry to cross the hallway, his hand sneaking behind Y/N’s back and pressing down on the doorknob as well, revealing the inside of his room. It was messy, much like her own, but it wouldn’t take too much to rip all off the tossed around bedding leaving a whole bed to themselves. 

      “You. Are. The. Devil.”

      Her smile was nothing short of wicked. “I mean you can listen to the angel on your shoulder.”

      “I’d rather listen to you.”

      Together they stepped inside, and Y/N nodded. “Making good choices already.”

      “Can’t get on your bad side, can I now?”

      “I mean you can.” Her legs hit the back of his bed and she fell down on it, Harry leaning over, resting his elbows next to her head. “But bad boys get punished.”

      His nose skimmed over hers. Now he was the one smiling like a devil. “I’ll hold you to your word. For future reference, that is.”

      That kiss was nothing like their first. This was messy, and passionate, all tongue and teeth, hands grabbing everywhere possible to get the other unclothed. Or at least that’s what Y/N was trying to do, seeing as she was pretty much naked already, and Harry was the one still wearing too much.

      Her hands pretty much ripped open the shirt. It one of his expensive Gucci ones, she was quite certain of it, but it didn’t seem like he cared, as he shrugged it off, throwing it to land somewhere on the floor.

      Y/N sighed into his mouth as her hands were now freely allowed to run over his chest, over the ink embedded into his skin, over taut muscles that relaxed under her touch, and dig into his sides in an attempt to leave her own marks on him, much like he was going to do to her. 

      “Think you can take your pants off? It’s only fair.” Y/N muttered into his mouth and his own travelled down to her cheek, then neck and to her chest.

      “You mean my trousers?”

      Her lips quirked up and she shrugged her shoulders. “No, in this case, I meant pants the British way.”

      “And if I’m going commando?”

      Y/N pressed her hand against his chest and pushed him away from her. “You had nothing underneath all day on set?”

      “No! I wouldn’t subject the dressing department to that. But underneath this.” He looked down at his jeans and smiled at her. “I do have nothing.”

      “Well then? Get on with it!”

      Both of them were giggling, as Y/N tried to unbuckle Harry’s belt, his own fingers mixing with hers as he went for the zipper and the button. He nudged his head towards her. “Your socks and pants come off as well. Or we’ll be unevenly matched.”

      Y/N lifted her eyebrow, as she went for her own remaining pieces of clothing. “No socks during sex?”

      “No, what kind of a weirdo do you think I am?”

      “And if my feet get cold?” She threw them away somewhere.

      “We have a blanket.”

      As Harry removed his jeans and his own socks, Y/N slipped off the dampened piece of clothing that’d been on her, now both of them completely naked. 

      “Alright.” He leaned over her again, her arms wrapping around his shoulders and pulling them chest to chest. “Happy now?”

      Y/N deeply kissed him. “Very. But I think we can make each other even happier.”

      “Agreed,” Harry hummed. “Wanna get a taste first.” He attached his lips to her collarbones sucking a bruise there. “Can I?”

      She groaned at the feeling, knowing there be a pleasant ache that accompanied mark. “You can. Don’t have to, if you don’t want. No need to do this for me.”

      “And if it’s for me?” Harry was moving lower and lower with each word, wet tongue flicking against a perked bud, and making Y/N gasp. “What if I wanna feel you cum on my tongue, and what if I wanna do something I’ve dreamed about for months now?”

      His hands were kneading her breasts, mouth having left a trail of kisses down the middle of her stomach as it was moving towards where an ache that’d been left untreated made itself more and more prominent. 

“Then please, please, please do something, Harry.”

      “With pleasure.”

      Luckily for Y/N, she didn’t have to beg any more, as his mouth attached itself to where she wanted him most, tongue sweeping past her lower lips and licking up a broad, steady stripe.

      One of her hands went to fist into her hair and the other into Harry’s. “Shit,” she moaned. “Fuck, that feels good.”

      “Guide me.” He licked a circle around her clit. “Tell me how you like it.”

      “Mhgm, fuck, okay,” Y/N breathed out. “I – I mean you’re doing great on your own.” Her chest was heaving as if she was running a marathon, and Harry shifted her legs so that they lay over his shoulders. “But umm, like if you lick around my clit, but like really press down li – oh, fuuuuck, just like that.”

      The coil in her stomach tightened with each pass he did, just like Y/N had instructed, small tight circles just how she did with her fingers, only what took her sometimes half an hour, Harry managed to do in less than ten minutes, to have her toes curling and hands grasping anywhere they could find purchase to just keep onto something real.

      The vibrations from Harry humming sent shivers straight to her core. “What else, lovie? What else, do you like?”

      “If – if –,” Y/N panted, “if you suck on it, but like – fuck – shit! If you kinda keep a seal around my clit, that fuck! Yes!”

      The way Harry was eating her out was almost sensational, but what made it even better wasn’t that he just decided to do something and assumed, she’d like it, he asked, he wanted to learn and discover what made her tick and turn, or in this case – cum. 

      “Harry, ‘m close,” Y/N warned him, feeling the warmth slowly start to spread all throughout her body. 

      “I’ll get you there.”

      He let his lips go for a moment before slipping two of his fingers so that they pinched her clit and moved them slowly but tightly up and down it, while his tongue went to slip inside her hole, and that did it for her.

      With a gasp of air, Y/N’s eyes rolled to be back of her head, hips lifting up as euphoria exploded through her veins. Her mind went completely dizzy, and she was quite sure some drool also dribbled down the side of her mouth because she’d lost all ability to function.

      “ -o me, love,” Y/N heard as if through a fog, and then felt two soothing palms running up and down her legs. “Come back, love. There you go.”

      A drunken smile bloomed on her face, and she ran a hand down it, the same hand that’d grabbed Harry’s hair like a vice. “Fuck. You’re good, you know what you’re doing.”

      “Well, I’m certainly glad you enjoyed yourself because I thoroughly enjoyed myself.”

      She watched as he straightened out to sit on his knees, her legs still over his shoulders, cock slapping against his stomach, and when she looked down there was a wet patch on his side of the sheets, a sly grin morphing on her face. “You liked eating me out so much you came yourself?”

      “What can I say – bringing pleasure, gives me pleasure. And your cunt’s probably the sweetest I’ve ever eaten. But… do you think you’re ready for me?” Harry asked, kissing the inside of Y/N’s thighs and watching as she vigorously nodded her head, but he just smirked. “I think I need to test it out. Just to make sure.”

       “Harry,” Y/N whined as she felt his fingers skim the apex of her thighs, teasing her. 

      “Don’t wanna hurt you.”

      With that, he used one of his hands to open up her lips, his thumb pressing down on her already sensitive clit, eliciting a gasp before he allowed two fingers to skim her entrance and then slipped in.

      “Still so tight,” he said, watching as Y/N sighed and her mouth fell open, his fingers curling in a come-hither motion. “Told you needed to check if you were ready. What kind of a gentleman would I be now, if I didn’t make sure you could take it?”

      Y/N gritted her teeth. “I can take you.”

      “Don’t doubt it.” Harry left kisses along her leg, as he continued on with his movements, noting how her hips slowly started to grind down on his palm, so he pushed his fingers in deeper so that the heel of his hand could rest against her clit, making the pleasure intensify. “But I’d never forgive myself if I hurt you when all I wanna do is give you pleasure. And you weren’t stretched out enough. Not yet at least.”

      “Oh, god, Harry,” Y/N groaned, one arm thrown over her eyes as his fingers hit just the right spot.

      “That’s it? Right there?”

      “Yes, right there,” she moaned. “Just. Fuck! Just don’t stop, please, don’t stop.”

      “Gonna cum again?”

      “Yes, just – just curl your fingers and twist them a bit more.”

      And much like the first time, a couple more times was all it took. Her orgasm was even more powerful than the previous and fully knocked her breath out of her lungs. Her legs fell open around his shoulders, stomach and chest spasming from the intensity. 

      Gentle fingers skimmed up and down Y/N’s arms and featherlight kisses fluttered over her breasts, then chest, neck and finally were peppered across her cheeks.

      “Kinda spaced out on me there. You alright? Not too much?”

      “ ’M – I’m good. But I’m pretty sure you’ve killed me.”

      Harry chuckled, and Y/N leaned her head to the side so she could press a kiss against the closest of the swallow tattoos. “Hopefully not. I still wanna take you out on that date.”

      Her eyes landed on Harry’s left hand’s ring finger, where a golden band still laid. 

      “Oh, yeah.” He lifted the digits, still covered in her cum before pushing them past his lips and licking them clean. “Forgot to remove it. Hope the prop guys don’t kill me.”

      She hated how his eyes sparkled, absolutely knowing what that sight did to her, how it made her stomach flutter and heart thunder against her ribs. Y/N was sure with the force it was pounding, they’d crack. 

      “Well, if they don’t, I will.” She pulled him down, nails raking on his skin, dragging to rest on his ass as they bit into it. “Now get inside me.”

      “Condom.”

      “No, ‘m on the pill.”

      “I’m clean, I swear, but it’s still not a hundred per cent safe.”

      Y/N shook her head. “I’ll buy the morning-after pill. Just need you inside.”

      “You sure?” Harry placed a strand of hair behind her ear. 

      “Yeah. I mean I’m clean, and uh… I just wanna feel you.”

      He’d cum once already, and Harry would be dammed if he did it again before having the chance to know how heaven feels like. As gently as possible, he took himself, giving a few strokes before nudging the tip against Y/N’s clit, her sharp inhale stalling him until she nodded. 

      Her nails dug into his biceps, as he finally slipped inside her, making both of them moan at the feeling. Even with all of the stretching out he’d done with his fingers, and the two orgasms he’d drawn from her, the slickness helping everything to be easy and smooth, Y/N still felt a little sting.

      Harry’s head dropped to Y/N’s shoulders and even from under him, she could feel his thighs and stomach shaking, as he tried to hold his composure and give her a little bit of time to adjust.

      A couple of deep breaths later, she tapped his ribs. “You can move now.”

      “ ‘ya sure?”

      “Mhm,” Y/N nodded her head and pecked his lips reassuringly. “Please.”

      His dishevelled and sweaty hair shook as he nodded and slowly drew back his hips so that just the tip of his cock remained in her before gliding back inside. The sight alone was more than enough to make both of them explode, but they wanted to last longer than thirty seconds, especially for their first time together. There’d be quickies for later, now they wanted to have a proper shag.

      Bit by bit, Harry’s pace quickened, pearls of sweat gliding down his skin and dampening the sheets below them, much like it was with Y/N. Her leg slid up to rest around his hips, giving him a better angle and more leverage for him to strike the right spot, as he pushed her knee to rest against her chest, Y/N’s head falling back to the pillow.

      Her insides were shaking from the pleasure, and it was like an invisible force was pushing down on her chest, as she struggled for a proper breath. “Harry,” she dragged out his name, the word turning into a high-pitched whine.

      “I know,” he responded in the same breathless voice. He could feel her tighten around him and wasn’t sure just how much longer he’d be able to keep up the pace. “Touch yourself ‘f me, lovie. C’mon, use those fingers.”

      Y/N did as she was told. It didn’t give her that butterfly feeling like it’d happened when they’d been Harry’s, but it did make her cum faster, and the sensation of her gushing around his cock made him lose all self-control and he spilled inside.

      It wasn’t enough for Y/N, but she guessed she needed to settle for it. She knew that nothing really ever touched in the universe, that the closest atoms ever come to touching one another is when their wave packets overlap, much like she and Harry were now overlapping, his body lying on top of hers, skin sweaty and frame trembling as he came down from his own high.

      “I uh,” Y/N cleared her throat, finger tracing the outline of one of the butterfly in the middle of Harry’s chest. “When the people came to get my stuff, I umm, asked them to take your rainbow cardigan. Wanted something that smelled like you, so I didn’t feel so alone. Was the first thing I put on when I got out of my hospital gown.”

      She felt his body rumble with laughter and a kiss being pressed to her forehead. “I know. Saw Anna stash it inside the suitcase. I uh, I was the one who also put in one of my sweaters. Know how cold you always get.”

      She hid her smile against his collarbones. “Thank you. For thinking of me.”

      “ 'M always thinking of you… Will you knit me one though?”

      Y/N raised her eyebrow. “Knit you one?”

      “Yes. I know you knit –“

      “Everyone knits nowadays.”

      Harry drew himself back a bit, and she pushed away the matted down strands from his forehead, wiping away the sweat from underneath his green eyes as well. “Yes, but the point is – there’ll be a million other Gucci shirts and sweaters and cardigans. But I’d like to have one-of-a-kind made by you. So, I have something to sleep next to when you’re not next to me.”

      Y/N ran a finger along his jawline, biting away her grin. “It’ll probably have mistakes. I’m not that good at it. ‘M not a professional.”

      “Exactly.” Harry tilted her head up with a finger and their eyes met. “Which is why it’ll be perfect.”

      “The arms will most likely be different lengths in the end.”

      “Don’t worry, darling.” He pecked her lips before hugging her and not letting go. “It’s flawless for me.”

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15​ @breezykpop​ @girlboss99​ @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist​ @alliyjane​ @sirtommyholland​

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64​ @supernaturalbaesduh​ @breezy1415​ @crazy--me​ @thatawkwardlittlefangirl​ @sea040561​ @staryeyedgirl​ @deathbyarabbit​ @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns​ @averyrogers83​ @in-the-end-im-still-trash​ @gallifreyansass​ @dewy-biitch​ @avxgers​ @unlikelygalaxygiver​ @magicwithaknife​ @ollyoxenfrees​ @bnhvrdy​ @tvwhoresblog​ @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished​

A/N: My tags are always open :)

P.S. please don’t repost my work without specific written permission onto other platforms :)

[danielxricciardo]

Where do we go from here

Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Chapters: 1/?

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3,015

Playlist for the series

It was your fault when you agreed to go to Monaco. After what happened the last time, you swore you would never go back there. Because it fucked with your mind and soul. You were crushed and your best friend had to scrap you off the floor for weeks, he had to remind you to shower and to eat. Knowing he will be so pissed you chose to go back to him, you didn't tell him you were leaving for a week until you were on the plane. His reaction was everything you were expecting, he called you a bitch and he advised you not to get back to him with a broken heart to cry on his shoulder then he hung up on you. Sure, you both knew you will cry on his shoulder after this week.

The entire flight you were questioning your life choices. How did you get there? You wanted - you needed to know how you allowed yourself to become dependent on a piece of affection from Daniel. You were trying to figure out when you became a sucker for him but you couldn't, maybe because you always were.

You'd always been good friends, ever since he moved from Australia to Europe. You were his first non-Australian friend and he was always been grateful for you and your friendship. You were with him even when he didn't ask you to and even when he told you he wanted to be left alone. That was your first choice. You went with him to almost all the junior competitions, until he reached Formula 1, you cried with him when he had a bad race and you partied with him on a podium or a win. Fuck it, 9 years later, you were still with him. Red Bull Racing was the team that helped him discover himself as a driver and gave him confidence that he could get far. After only one year in the team, he finished third in the drivers' championship with 238 points and secured the first fastest lap of his Formula One career at the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix.

But all this has consequences. The fact that he was so good and became so well known attracted many girls who wanted to meet him and be affiliated with him for increased media attention. The worst part was that he liked all the female attention. Who wouldn't like it? He could have a new girl every day and they would still not end. But Daniel was not the type to take such advantage of his name and his position in society, you thought at the time. But that was exactly what he did. At the end of the 2014 season, days would pass without hearing from him because he was too busy to enjoy the female attendance that crossed his threshold.

After a few months, you already had a pattern. For 5 days you would not hear from him and on Saturday morning he would call you with a guttural voice, asking you to come to his place. And you went there with some headache pills and for a few hours, you would listen to everything that had happened during the week with different girls. At first, it hurt a lot. To hear how your best friend and the person for whom you develop some romantic feelings, has fun, and fucks with different girls is not very ok, but over time the whole situation had become repetitive and you became immune.

But you didn't realize you became a regular girl in his bed too. The only difference between you and the tens, maybe the hundreds of girls before you, was that you warmed his bed on Saturday and Sunday. It was just you, all weekend, every weekend. You felt special. He gives you his full attention all weekend and you hope he doesn't need anyone but you, except that Monday was coming and you could see that to his right was another model looking for fame. But have you ever told him what bothers you? No. Because you'd rather share him with so many girls than not have him in your life at all.

So what happened when you ended up crying for weeks without eating or taking a shower? Daniel told you that he is done with all the girls and he wants to focus on his career. This is after in 2015 he finished the season in 9th place with only 92 points, without a victory, and only twice on the podium. Of course you were happy! Daniel was going to have only you in his life. But he told you that what was between you before, sex and everything else, must end as well. I mean, you had to go back to being just friends. But how do you go back to being just friends with the person you've shared the bed with so many times? Friends don't know the way you taste. Your luck was that you had to go for a visit to your parents for 2 weeks and you didn't have to see him. You had 2 weeks to lick your wounds and return to him without a broken heart. Troy, your best friend, was with you and he tried to put your heart back together. Just when he succeeded, you had to go back to Daniel as if nothing had happened. Broken heart? Who?

Making your own decisions makes you responsible for what comes out of that decision whether it was a positive move or not. Making your own decisions also allows you to make your own mistakes and learn from them. It was your decision to go back to Daniel, to your friend. It was hard to look at him and not want to kiss those fleshy lips but you could manage it.

"There she is!" you heard Daniel say as soon as the Nice Côte d'Azur airport gates opened. He was wearing his merch purple hoodie that you wore so many times before and a pair of black jeans. He had a pair of sunglasses on to keep him away from the press. You smiled. It's been 2 weeks since you've seen him and it's as if your heart has tightened in your chest. You really missed him. You ignored his calls because you didn't want to hear his voice and start crying on the phone and all the messages he sent you were deleted by Troy. You don't even know what he wrote to you.

"Hey, Daniel!" you said and hugged him. You were enveloped by the smell of his perfume and you smiled. He was your safe place. "Missed you."

He hugged you back and the force he put in that hug was enough to crush your bones. But it didn't hurt you. You wanted to be one with him, to be absorbed by him. Everything platonic, of course.

"Missed you too, Y/N."

The road to your house was not a long one but at that moment everyone seemed to be on the road at the same time as you so what needed to be a 45-minutes road trip was now more than an hour, and you were still in the car. The small talk already finished about your parents, your brother and your best friend, Troy, and about all the new things from your home town and at the moment in the car was an uncomfortable silence which none of you knew how to break.

"I tried to talk to you these 2 weeks, you know?" Daniel said and you swallowed loudly. You knew that at some point he would ask about why you didn't talk to him for two weeks, but you hoped it would take some time until then - you hoped you had more time to think about a pretty good reason.

"Yeah, sorry, I just wanted to focus on my people there, you know?" you bit the inside of your cheek until you felt the metallic taste of blood. You hoped it would be a pretty convincing reason but you knew after so many years of friendship that Daniel is not the type to press you if you don't want to say something.

"Yeah, I get it, I'm the same when I'm down under, y'know?" you both laughed, and for the first time in a long time you felt good around him. You felt yourself, no labels and no shoes to fill.

In front of your apartment block, after Daniel took all your luggage out of the car trunk, he leaned against the car, his hands folded, and looked at you.

"Aren't you going to help me get them up to my apartment?"

"Yes, in a minute," he says, still looking at you. "Would you like to do something tonight?"

You shrugged. You weren't tired after the flight, so you could have done something but you had so many questions. Just the two of you? Was anyone else coming? Any friends of his? Some girl? But you couldn't ask him, even if you were friends, you didn't want to give him the feeling that you were jealous. Were you jealous? You didn't have a reason just yet but you could become one.

"Sure. Do you have something in mind?"

"Remember Jay? He just opened a nightclub. Actually, tonight is the opening, he asked me to swing by for a few hours, want to go?"

"Yeah, sure, sounds like fun."

Daniel took two suitcases and passed you to enter the block, but he walked with the wheels over your toes.

"Hey, idiot, watch where you're going!" you yelled at him and immediately laughed. Daniel turned to you, laughing too. You didn't realize when you said it, but that was the exact phrase you told him when you first met.

You got out of the cab in front of the restaurant and slammed the door shut, despite the pleading of the driver to be gentle with his darling car.

You arranged your dress on your body and put your hair behind your ear. You were ready for this blind date that Ellie, your co-worker, planned for you. Of course, there were better things for you to do on a Friday night, such as drinking a bottle of red wine watching a few episodes of your favorite show. But you were there, prepared for a shitshow. You took a few steps towards the big glass door until someone hit you hard and made you unbalance and break a heel.

"Hey, idiot, watch where you're going!" you yelled at the boy that hit you. A tall, dark guy that made you lose the little balance you still had. A small amount of his curly dark-haired was peaking out under the white hoodie he was wearing and his brown big eyes were looking at you like you were a statuette that broke.

"So sorry," he said and the thick accent made your legs soft. Whatever accent that was, you knew you wanted to hear him talk non-stop. "Was looking for an address, I'm fucking lost."

"That's fine, maybe I can help you," you smiled at the boy and you took off your heels. One was already broken so there was no point in wearing them at this point.

"Oh, no, it's fine, you look so elegant, you must be dining with your boyfriend or something," he laughed and then saw the broken heel. "Bloody, I just broke your shoes, I'm so sorry!"

You laughed even harder at the panicked boy in front of you.

"No boyfriend, just a blind date I didn't even want to go in the first place so you saved me, I'm the one that should say thank you. Where do you need to go to?"

He came closer to you with a map in his hand. He showed you where he had to go and you explained to him that he was in the wrong part of the city but you were more than happy to show him the right way. But after you stopped at a boutique to buy a 5 euro pair of sandals.

"This city is not so big that you get lost in it," you told the boy, whose name is Daniel Ricciardo, he told you so. "How long have you been here?"

"Ugh, just a day, and I thought it was a good idea to go out and see the city, I even took this stupid map, but I still got lost."

"Okay, but why did you go out by yourself in the evening and not in the morning or, at least, when is sunny, y'know?" you ask him and point to his left, where you had to go.

"I woke up two hours ago. I slept for eleven hours with the whole time zone, jet lag, and shit and when I woke up I was hungry. I went to get some food and to visit the surroundings because why not," he shrugged.

"But where did you come from?"

"Perth, Australia, baby!" he smiled and leaned back, pulling his chest forward. Anyone could see how proud he was of his hometown.

"This is you!" you announced when you arrived in front of the apartment building, his final destination. He smiled so wide and hugged you.

"Thank you so much, you saved me!"

"No biggie," you smiled at him and then waved. "Bye, Daniel Ricciardo."

"Hey, hey, let's meet tomorrow for a brekky!" he casually announced.

"For a what?"

"Oh, sorry!" he laughed. "Forgot for a second you're not Australian. For breakfast."

"Sure, I'll come here at 9 so you won't get lost again. Bye, Daniel Ricciardo!"

"Bye, Y/N Y/L/N!"

"I'll come and pick you up at about 10 o'clock, ok?" Daniel announced just as he was about to leave your apartment after he got up all your luggage. "Sounds good?"

"Yep. All good."

"And wear something sexy!" he yelled as he was closing the front door. Something sexy? Why would he request a sexy outfit for a night out from you? His best friend. Sometimes Daniel made your head spin, that was one of those occasions, you didn't pay much attention to it, you just went to grab a shower.

The night had come too fast. Sure, you had enough time to put on makeup and do your hair, but you had no idea what to wear. You were sitting in front of the bed in your underwear, with three dresses lying on the bed when the clock struck 10 o'clock. You heard the front door open and close but you did not hurry to put something on yourself so that Daniel would not see you in your underwear; he saw you even worse than that.

"Hey, are you ready? Whoah!" he says and turns his back on you, with his hand covering his eyes. "You should have told me you were naked!"

You scoffed at him.

"Cut the crap and come help me pick a dress for tonight, Ricciardo."

Daniel removed his hand from the eyes and looked at you and swallowed hard. The underwear you were wearing was almost a silky one, black, that hugged your curves just right. He couldn't take his eyes off you and you loved all the attention.

"Stop drooling and come help me. Do you want to go to this club or not?"

Daniel came near you, his eyes were now on the push-up bra that lifted your breasts, making them fuller and bigger than they really were, and at that moment Daniel wanted nothing more than to touch them and play with them. But he remembered who was in front of him. He told his best friend that the sex games were now over because he was focusing on his Formula 1 career. That was not a lie at the time, but he just wanted to throw her in bed and make her forget the words he said that evening. He coughed a few times to regain his voice and then looked at the three dresses lying on the bed.

"That one," says the brunette and points to the short black dress that fits perfectly on your body. You would have chosen that one too.

"Ok, I'll be ready in a few minutes," you said and went to the bathroom to put the dress on. You adjusted your make-up and grabbed the bag and you were ready for a night out with Daniel. Or so you thought.

No one can see the dance floor, it's wall-to-wall people dancing to the club music. There's no room for any more but somehow Daniel was pulling my hand to where he knew Jay was sitting. The music vibrated in your ears and you were tempted to move to its rhythm, but you had to follow Daniel. After going through the whole room you reached your friend, the owner of the club. He told you that the drink for you was on the house and wished you a good time. Daniel announces that he is going to have a drink for both of you and leaves you alone among hundreds of strangers, driven by the same inner desire to get rid of inhibitions for a few hours that night.

The DJ moves everybody in ways no one has ever done before. Mixing the loud music on the turntables to the beat you desire to hear, the DJ watches the half-naked bodies of young men and women dancing around as if something has possessed their bodies. Men are wearing an undershirt, or no shirt at all, and pants. They eye the women who strut around in tank tops and tight dance pants or skirts, and who are smiling, and letting all their worries go away. A smile appeared on your face and look at the line at the bar for Daniel and you were pleasantly surprised to see that he was already looking at you. When you saw his smile you realized that the night will not end with you two still being just friends.

————————————————————————————

To be notified when a new chapter is posted, just respond to this post and I’ll tag you when the next chapter is up!

[hauntingmothgirl]

To Hell and Back PART 3

Hi so a lot of people liked that last part, thank you for the support, it really made me smile and made my day. If you have any suggestions/requests or want me to write a specific scene then feel free to ask, my dms are open, but for now here’s part 3! This series spans across the ending of season 4 if it wasn’t already clear enough.

✰

        The flight to Windsor, Ontario, Canada felt longer than it should have. Trying to avoid Spencer’s prying and profiling eyes was harder than it seemed. Even staring at her book wasn’t enough to keep him from noticing how long she had been on a single page. And the looks the team were now giving to a certain profiler who seemed to be studying every movement of his co-worker were hard to ignore. 

        By the time the plane had touched down, Y/n had cleaned up her space and was sitting on the edge of her seat, book in hand and satchel across her chest. As soon as it was clear to leave Y/n was out of her seat, mumbling a thank you to a flight attendant and hurrying down the steep steps. The normal cars they had assigned to them were directly outside, waiting for the team. Flinging an SUV door open and hurrying into the back, ducking behind the headrest, she tried her best to see over her hiding spot to check if the hour ride to R.C.M.P. Headquarters was going to be one filled with torture, or one filled with awkward silence. 

        She was just about to sit up, realizing how idiotic she looked and how stupid she would feel if someone spotted her when an uncoordinated Reid tried to hurry down the steps without looking, well… hurried. A grimace settled onto his face as he squinted through the sunlight trying to spot her. Rossi was next behind him, taking slow steps. Clapping a hand on his back and leaning in, Rossi muttered something in Reid’s ear, smiled and then started for the car. Reid’s demeanor shifted, his shoulders went stiff and then relaxed, his expression softened and then fell. He took off for the next car. 

        Y/n sat upright and stuffed her nose into her book as Rossi entered the car, pulling his seatbelt on before finally starting the car. “You can sit in the front if you like, you know?” He offered, looking up in the mirror to meet her eyes. Hesitating, she dropped her book and moved to the door. Settling into the front passenger seat, she forced herself to keep her eyes forward. The drive started out fine at first, Rossi didn’t try to make conversation and let the silence flow comfortably around them. After the first 20 minutes of driving and staring down endless highways, Y/n had grown restless and drew her book back to her, in need of something to occupy her mind. As she read her eyes grew heavy, sore, and her head fell forward slowly. Every so often she fought against closing her eyes fully and instead found herself sinking further and further into her seat. By the time she had woken up, the drive was over. 

  ✰

         “Come on Sunshine,” a voice laughed near her ear, startling her out of her sleep. Craning her now sore neck to peer up at the person who stood with her door open, trying to unbuckle her now, she rubbed her eyes. “Have a good nap?” He chuckled, taking her satchel from out of the backseat. She grimaced, taking his hands to help lift herself up, steadying her balance. “Where are we, Derek?” She asked, taking a look around. “Headquarters, they dropped your bags off at the hotel, told me to give you your room key for tonight. You were knocked out for a while, Rossi didn’t wanna wake you when we got to the hotel. Don’t worry, we didn’t go through any of your belongings,” he added with a smirk. Looking up at the headquarters, she smoothed her shirt and pulled her into a ponytail, trying to look decent, or at least as if she hadn’t been asleep for the past hour. “Thank you,” she mumbled, taking her satchel from his hands. “No problem.” 

           A thought popped into her head as she pulled the satchel onto her shoulder, “Aren't you supposed to be with Prentiss?” she asked, twisting to look for the other profiler. “Yes, mother,” he chuckled, “I’m heading there now, but the teams inside and I'm apparently on wakeup duty. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a job to do,” he answered, walking backwards towards another SUV. “Drive safe,” she called after him, turning to the big building as he called back, “You know it.” 

        The building was big and red. Bigger on the inside than she anticipated, multiple floors, lots of bustle and busy people. The faint smell of peppermint and air freshener wafted to her nose. As she entered the building she caught sight of the rest of her team, giving a small smile as she started towards them. “Morning sleepyhead,” JJ cooed. Her stomach did flip flops as she came to a stop in front of them, locking eyes with Spencer. “Very funny,” she retorted as the team started to set a stride. 

        A small elevator sat at the far end of the room, a door titled, “Stairs Access,” stood just across from it. On any normal day Y/n would’ve chosen the stairs, she had always had a problem with the close quarters of an elevator, the uncertainty and danger of such an unstable device had always left her off put. But a long way to the ninth floor on the stairs would not only be physically tiring, but would most definitely be accompanied by a certain doctor to her left who had been dying to talk to her alone. Still, the team became increasingly interested when Y/n stepped in with them. “Someone’s getting brave, huh?” JJ chuckled, “Just too tired to deal with the stairs today.”

        The hallway the doors opened to was short and led out to a giant office full of people. Tan walls extended on each side, the tiles on the floor reflected the lights above them. A man met Rossi in the entrance of the room, exchanging pleasantries and introducing the team, it was impossible not to notice the way Spencer’s gaze kept flickering to hers. Two red offices stood at the far end of the room and the room to the right of them. Walking in between the desks and making his way to one of the rooms, Jeff led the team, “I've got a victim board and timelines set up on monitors in the conference room. Anything you need, you've got the run of the place.” 

         “We appreciate it,” Rossi replied lightly.” “Don’t thank me, Thank the unsub. He's the one that put you all in charge.”

        Something about that last remark hit Y/n the wrong way, wrinkling her nose in agitation. JJ excused herself to go talk to Garcia as Y/n took in the room. A long conference table sat in the middle of the room, six chairs pushed into it. A tv hung on the left wall, faces of the victims littering the screen. Rossi took in the site, then moved around the table to make room for Reid and Y/n. Following Reid, she took a second to go over the tv soon realizing that she had already seen the pictures in the file JJ had supplied her with. Realizing that everyone’s backs were to them, Spencer made the quick decision to steal a look at her. Turning on her heel to walk away from the screen, her eyes reached his, the pleading look on his face was enough to make her stomach turn. Guilt flooded her, all he probably wants is his best friend back, this isn’t fair to him. Did I ruin our friendship?  Turning around to take her place next to Rossi. “You believe that he killed all these people?” Reid asked, his eyes turning back to the screen, “Fits the profile,” Officer Jeff responded absentmindedly. “How so?” Rossi asked, clearly quizzing his former student, everyone in this room knew of the Unsubs history, but Jeff answered nonetheless. “He got a recent physical trauma. Could be a stressor. Wide disparity of victims. No bodies. Possible border cross. Two entirely different terrains,” He paused, “To pull that off, you'd have to be smart, you'd have to be organized, mobile, physical.” His missing leg ran through Y/n‘s mind once again, before the accident this all could’ve been possible, but now? After such physical trauma? It didn't make sense. 

        “Military background gives you all that,” Rossi finished for him.

 “Exactly,” Officer Bedwell hummed.

        “It appears as though he clusters his victims into men, then women, and then back to men again.” Spencer’s voice raised in tone, confusion heavy in his voice. 

        “What does that tell you?” Officer Bedwell asked.

“At the moment, nothing.”

        They were informed that he hadn’t contacted family, nor a lawyer and was awaiting an interrogation. Hotch was the last person to talk, deducing that since this man had contacted the FBI, he would want to speak to whoever he believed was the most in charge. 

        The interrogation room was dimly lit, only one light directly overhead, the room behind the glass was filled with two officers, Rossi, Reid and Y/n. Crammed into the few chairs there were, Y/n watched, her brows furrowed, as Hotch sat down at the table. William was a tall man, broad shoulders and muscular arms, he sat in silence, a detached look sewn onto his features. A black goatee rested above his lips, his hair was cropped in a buzz cut, understandable due to his military background. His body shows his training too, he sat straight up, shoulders back, hands on his thighs, his legs slightly spread. The pinnacle of perfect posture. 

        It was silent as Hotch announced himself as the behavioral analysis unit chief from the FBI. William’s face didn't change as his eyes lifted to Hotch’s, “You’re here to analyze me.” This wasn’t a question, but a statement. “No, I’m here to take your confession and find out where you dumped your victims,” Hotch corrected. Y/n could see the technique Hotch was using beginning to form, diminishing any hope of negotiation. Setting himself in charge in the room and demanding the attention, making it clear that this was Hotch’s room, not Heightower’s, taking away any slimmer of wiggle room around the conversation. He continued, “Or are you wasting my time?” 

        Y/n’s boss was always great at keeping his voice firm but somewhat monotone when speaking to unsubs, not letting emotion intercede unless it was directly needed. “I gave you names, I gave you dates.” William bounced around the subject, his voice low and gravely, as if he hadn’t spoken in hours. Hotch reigned the conversation back onto topic easily, “You didn’t give me a dump site.” It was silent for a moment, as if an unspoken staring contest had started, the Unit Chief’s jaw was set, William was withholding information and he wasn’t intending on opening up anytime soon. “You were a sergeant,” Hotch started, again not a question, a statement intended to gain an emotional reaction, “You led troops, probably lost men.” Y/n’s eyes flickered to William’s just as he let out a hesitant, “a few.” 

        “What would their parents feel if they didn’t know whether their sons were dead or alive?” Hotch tried. The tension shifted uncomfortably. A cord was struck, “Don’t lecture me on notifying families, I’ve been on those doorsteps,” as William spoke his voice rose slightly from the whisper it had started out as. He’s protective of these men, his angry tone shows Hotch’s words affect him, why is he trying so hard to make us not see that? “No one cares about those people, why should I?” His head shakes as he says it, even his own body is rejecting the words he’s saying, subconsciously disagreeing with them. Hotch’s words have caught him off guard, this technique is making him emotional.

        Rossi’s voice interrupts Y/n’s thoughts, “Here we go.” 

        “What do you mean?” An officer to the right of Y/n’s chair asks, he leans against the interrogation window, unknowingly making her scoot her legs closer to herself. He mindlessly takes up so much of the little space beside her that she cringes uncomfortably away from him. “An interrogation doesn’t really start until you get the first lie,” Rossi finishes, so he picked up on it too. Hotch’s voice silences all of them as he resumes the conversation through the glass, “See that’s just the thing William, you were out there every night. You took their photographs, you checked off their names in a notebook,” William remains blank as he mutters, “So?” Hotch grimaces at the answer and then continues, “Your behavior was more like a protector, like someone in the army doing a bed check.” If Hotch’s words resonate with anything at all to him, he doesn’t show it and lets him continue. “You’ve gone to a lot of trouble to confess to a crime you didn’t commit,” Hotch accuses. 

        Suddenly all reservation in William is gone, his lips quiver as he spits the words out angrily, “The folks on the street, did they tell you people were missing?” It's like he’s trying to prove their absence rather than his own guilt. 

        “If my team is here there are cases we are not working on, you are wasting our time.” 

        “10 people dead, huh?” Swallowing harshly, scowling, challenging Hotch, “That’s not enough for you?” 

        “I’ve watched the tape of you at the border cross over and over again, you wait until every guard is out of the booth before you drive into it,” Hotch raises his voice, as he leans closer to the table, “if you wanted to kill people you had your chance.” 

        William’s voice is booming now, his face enraged, “Are you investigating these murders or not?!” His whole body shakes violently as silence fills the room. “So that’s what this is all about?” Hotch questions, “Making sure we investigate?” What a way to do so. “If you thought people were being killed you should’ve gone to the police in Detroit.” Another shudder rips through William, “I already did,” his voice is low as it break. “3 times. They told me the kind of people I was looking for disappeared.” His voice trembled, the light reflecting off tears in his eyes, “They said that’s the way life on the street works.” Silence enveloped them again. 

        Struggling to keep his composure, he enunciated every word, “Do. You. Believe. The. People. I. Showed. You. Are. Missing?” 

        “I believe it's possible.”

        Rage wracked through his frame once again, “Don’t give me a political answer!”

        Hotch hesitated, giving himself a moment before he responded, “Tell me about what happened the night before the border cross.” William opened his mouth and then shut it before starting, “I did a head count,” he began. “Every night for the past month, like we do in Baghdad. That night I saw a boy named Charles wasn’t where he usually camped down.” The mention of a boy sends a pang of pain through Y/n’s chest, wondering how old the boy must have been. Hopefully he had meant a young man, rather than a young boy. The idea of a child in the case was a sore subject. Swallowing the hard lump in her throat, she hoped she hadn't shown any visible signs of discomfort. 

        “So I made another pass.”

“He didn’t turn up?”

        “By the morning I knew he was gone,” another scowl had set on his face, though this time it wasn’t targeted at the man across from him. “William,” Hotch started, sympathy thick in his voice, “People don’t do what you did out of honor.” He paused, “They do it out of love.” William’s lack of a response was enough to confirm their suspicions. “Who were you looking for on the streets every night.” His brows furrowed as William prepared himself before continuing, “I got home from Iraq, first thing my mother told me was that my baby sister Lee was on the streets.” Y/n’s heart sunk, with the way he’d been acting there was no way this story was going to end well. Rossi must have noticed it too because out of the corner of Y/n’s eye she watched him shake his head slightly, turning away from the glass before coming back to it, exhaling roughly. 

        William continued, “She asked me to find her.”

        “But you couldn’t?” Hotch pried.

        “I managed once. Brought her home, we got her fed.” His eyes fell, staring longingly as his voice broke yet again, “She even wore my dog tags. For good luck.” Y/n closed her eyes for a moment, sighing. No matter how long you were on this job, no matter what horrors you’d seen, it never gets easier to hear from the relatives of people who’ve gone missing. The team was evidence of that, Rossi’s head was to the side, face contorted in uncomfort. The officers sat quietly, staring at their laps. Though Hotch had to remain indifferent in order to keep control of the room, his face was no longer hard and stern. While he held his lips together in a tight line, a deep sadness sat behind his eyes, something only his colleagues who’d worked with him for so long would pick up on. 

         “Two weeks later, she slipped back onto the streets.” Composure was no longer an option for William, his breathing came out in short, quick breaths as his chest visibly shook. The tears spilled over, “That was it,” he barely managed to let out, another shaky breath in.

         “William, you’ve got so much information about the other potential victims, why not Lee?” Hotch asked, though this was a raw subject, it was still vital to know. Blinking rapidly in order to control the tears and reign his emotions back in, Heightower replied, “I hid it in a spare tire, in my car.” That explained why none of the team had any knowledge about Lee, organized and brilliant, William had intentionally left her out of the files he created for us. He wouldn't have even been considered had the officers known how close he really was to one of the victims, Y/n pondered. “I needed to wait until I was sure,” while the tears had stopped and his breathing was now in control, his hands still shook slightly under the table as he finished, “that you were on board.”

         That was all the team needed to hear, Frankie excused herself from the room. Walking down the hall as she assembled her thoughts. The car would definitely be in evidence somewhere, how they hadn’t managed to find the new piece of the puzzle was surprising, confused she wandered the hall trying to find the stairs. 

        The sound of the stairwell door opening made Y/n falter. She’d reached a platform between the set of stairs, eyes glancing to the door at the end of the platform that would take her to the hallway. Stairwells were where most assaults happened, but due to the fact that she was in a police department, she pushed that thought to the back of her head and continued to the next set of stairs. It wasn’t until she heard the pitter patter of quick footsteps behind her, that she realized she should have taken her chances with the elevator. 

        “ Y/n?” A pang of dread ran through her body in slow waves. Turning slowly on her heel, her eyes met Dr. Reid’s. His face was contorted, his eyes fixed on the ground, then fluttered back up to hers. “I-” 

        “Did I miss something on Heightower?” His eyebrows furrowed, confusion making it’s way on to his features. 

        “No- I just-” 

“Does this have anything to do with this case or a previous one?”

        “No-”

“So this is not work related?”

        “No, it’s not, but-”

        “Then we should not be having this conversation.” Starting back down the stairs, he was next to her in a moment. “I know that, but the other night I didn’t mean to make it seem like-” “Spencer,” her nose scrunched up in uncomfort. “Please, don't do this.” Another flight of steps was through. At this point she was counting them down in her head. 

        “Y/n, I wasn’t trying to hurt you, it just seemed like the worst time and I didn’t want you to-” “Spencer, please.” One more flight to go. 

        “Okay but give me a moment to-” 

         “Spencer!” 

        Blinking back tears, she tried to reason with him. “That was the single most humiliating thing I’ve ever done. Just having to look you in the eyes right now is unbelievably painful. Knowing that our friendship will probably never go back to the way it was is killing me and you bringing attention to it every five seconds is making it worse,” she rambled. “I mean for God’s sake Morgan won't stop trying to profile me and Hotch looks at me like a kicked puppy. I can tell everyone here is second guessing my decision to come back and I’m already having a hard enough time proving that I’m okay without your worried glances making everything worse so please. Give me some space, some time before I have to have this conversation with you.” 

        Spencer’s eyes flickered down, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.”

        “I just can’t do this right now Spencer.” Opening the door and entering the lobby she made her way to an officer, flashing her badge and asking where the evidence storage room was.

✰

okay that’s part 3, again, i hope it didn’t disappoint. and if it did then, again, that's chill too. tagged everyone who wanted a part 3. i know it was pretty long but i wanted to get a lot of the dialogue out of the way so i can focus on the reader and spencer in the next couple parts, rather than just the case, although that is pretty important. thank yall so much for the kind words!! and again if you have any suggestions or recommendations just ask, and if you want to be tagged in part 4, let me know! if you want me to stop tagging you then let me know that too lol. part 4 will be up tomorrow. have a beautiful day loves :)

@anarchy-n-glitter i love you sm, thank you for the support lol.

@reidselle​

@doctorspenceryeet​

@ashwarren32

@reidsbookclub​

Part 2

Part 4

Masterlist