#he already met the love of his life and it ain’t reader insert

[thedevilsfamiliar]

I can’t take the bakugo reader inserts seriously rn, I’m scrolling through the bnha tag and there’s a whole lotta nsfw stories of him with a girlfriend and ��� i can’t

He’s so gay, I can’t

[seokjinsonlyone]

Not My Type | 3

pairing: jungkook x female reader

summary: "She's a lot more than nice, so you need to be careful."

genre: friends to lovers

warnings: none; jimin here tho being flirty and stirring the pot <3333

rating: pg

wc: 1.7k

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

Jungkook’s newfound hobby was driving her crazy. One too many times had their little lunch rendezvous made its way into her mind in the past week. The way he sniffed her hair oddly enough was a recurring playback. She had a thing for weirdos and Jungkook could definitely be classified as that. And, that was exactly why she needed to shut this whole thing down.

Now, she considered herself a progressive individual. She didn’t mind change as long as it was for the better. She didn’t have a problem evolving her relationship with a friend. In fact, she preferred it. Always said that if she was gonna get into it, she wanted to be with a friend. But, this particular friendship wasn’t the one. It wouldn’t make sense. There was no way it could possibly be better.

They were like oil and water. They didn’t mix. Which was fine as a friendship, they could peacefully coexist. Anything more than that, however, would be an unnecessary burden. And, her life didn’t need to be anymore difficult than it already was. She wanted an easy love. It was this line of reasoning that carried her straight to her best friend’s house.

“You need to talk to your friend,” she announced, waltzing into Jimin’s home, throwing her purse on the couch before finding him sitting at the island eating cereal.

He looked up. “I’ve already told you should just ask Taemin out. He’ll most likely say yes. He thinks you’re hot. Stop trying to get me to create scenarios.”

“And, I’ve already told you I refuse to pursue a man. No matter how dreamy and evil he is,” she sighed.

In all honesty, she probably would’ve gone for it if it weren’t for the fact that she could tell he wasn’t really into her. Not in the way she would’ve liked for him to be into her. He flirted with her in person (and in her dms), held her in a way that made her stomach jump after a few drinks, but ultimately his goal was a few nights in the sheets. And, that just wasn’t her thing. She didn’t do casual. Didn’t like to invite people into her life that weren’t going to stay. So even though she thought they could be good together, she was deciding to let this one go. If he couldn’t see what was right in front of him that was on him.

“You’re gonna end up alone.”

“You must realize that I am my favorite person.” He rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I wasn’t talking about him. I was talking about Jungkook.”

“What he do?”

“He’s been acting weird ever since last week.”

“What happened last week?”

She sucked her teeth. “You know, when we were all here?”

He narrowed his eyes at her, pupils shifting from side to side, visibly racking his brain trying to recall what happened at his place last week. “Oh! Wednesday! I was so drunk, bro. What happened?”

“Ugh. You don’t remember asking me to rank all of y’all from most to least my type?” Typical Jimin. Cause trouble then dip.

“What’d you rank me?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I ain’t doing this again.”

He dropped his legs from the footrest of the barstool, tugging her closer and wrapping an arm around her waist. “Mmm. You couldn’t handle me either way.”

She’s not gonna lie, her heart skipped a beat. But, that’s the only reason he did it in the first place. He knew it flustered her on some level. So, she decided to play along for once, bringing her hand up to toy with the hair that rested at the back of his neck. “Baby boy, I could make you cry,” she whispered seductively.

He made a face, then pushed her away turning his attention back to his cereal. “You’re gross.”

“You started it,” she accused, laughter bubbling up at his reaction. He was CEO of “Do as I say, not as I do.” Always in the mood to dish it out, but hardly able to take it in return.

“So, what’s going on? Why do I need to talk to him?”

“Because I told him he wasn’t my type, and now he’s trying to convince me that he is.”

He choked. “What?”

“He literally showed up at my work the other day and brought me lunch.”

“That was more so directed at you saying Jungkook isn’t your type.”

“He’s not.” He raised his eyebrows, smirking conspiratorially. “He isn’t,” she insisted.

“So, you didn’t used to drool over him when you two first met?”

“See why you gotta go and bring up the past.” She wouldn’t say that she had a full blown crush on him, she didn’t know him and therefore couldn’t actually like him, but for a minute she was down bad. She wasn’t expecting to meet him when she did. Jimin had wanted to hang out and asked for a ride. He was with Jungkook when she picked him up and she was effectively caught off guard. Before she even realized what she was doing, she was out of the car and shaking hands with him in greeting. The next few weeks were spent trying her hardest to be in his presence. She never said more than two words to the boy, but yeah she was down bad. Once her hormones subsided, though, they eventually developed a friendship. A friendship that needed to stay a friendship. “Besides, I never said he wasn’t hot. I’m saying our personalities don’t match up. It wouldn’t work.”

“You aren’t that different from each other.”

“Yeah, but we’re wrong in just the right ways. It wouldn’t work.” He was right in saying that weren’t all that dissimilar, but it was because of that that she was sure starting any kind of relationship with romantic intent would go up in flames. The two were like parallel lines. Never meant to cross. Adjacent, but never intersecting. As they should.

“It sounds to me like you’re just afraid of what could happen.”

“Hold on there partner. I didn’t come here to be lectured or psychoanalyzed. I don’t even think he likes me for real, but he’s heading down a slippery slope. I just want you to talk to him before he goes and starts something that’s gonna get his feelings hurt, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll see what I can do.” One thing about Jimin was that he was nosy. Had absolutely zero qualms about getting all up in other people’s business. Knowledge equals power is what he always told himself. So, if she hadn’t come to him voluntarily offering up this information, he would’ve picked up on it sooner or later, inserting himself in the middle of it all. As it stands, he’s been giving explicit permission to do some digging. All he has to do is wait for the opportunity to arise.

The opportunity came a few days later. Jungkook was sitting on his couch, phone in hand, completely zoned out when Jimin pounced.

“So... Y/N?”

Jungkook startled at the mention of her name. It wasn’t like he was just thinking about her. He definitely wasn’t about to text her. He hadn’t spent the past minutes in a daze typing, deleting, and retyping messages to send. Nope. “Huh?”

“Y/N? What’s going on with you and her?” Jimin asked again.

“What do you mean? Nothing’s going on,” he feigned innocence, voice raising an octave. Even though, for all intents and purposes, there really wasn’t anything going on.

He looked him up and down, raising an eyebrow. “That’s not what she said.”

“What did she say?” She talked about him?

“You tell me.” He smirked sitting down, crossing one leg over the other like some kind of therapist.

“I don’t know. We had lunch,” he mumbled.

“Why?”

“Because I thought she might be hungry.”

“And this has nothing to do with the fact that she said you’re not her type?”

He blew raspberries into the air. He couldn’t lie to Jimin even if he tried. The man always managed to see right through him. A consequence of nearly ten years of friendship. “I’m just trying to get to know her better,” he insisted.

“Why?”

“Because she’s nice.” Which wasn’t the complete truth, but if he admitted that he thought she had stars in her eyes he’d never hear the end of it.

“She’s a lot more than nice, so you need to be careful.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that she’s one of the best people I know, but she’s stubborn and once she has an idea in her head it’s very hard for her to let go.”

“So you think I should stop?”

“I think you shouldn’t go into this blind, is all I’m saying. Whatever you’re doing, probably won’t be easy. And, I don’t want you to get hurt. Or hurt her. What do you plan on doing if you manage to make her like you? If you’re not serious then I think you should stop.” Jimin patted his shoulder, then got up leaving him to his thoughts.

Jungkook heard what he was saying. He did. And, he was right. He hadn’t been thinking too hard about what he was doing. Honestly, he was just following the skip in his heartbeat and so far that led him to her. There was a very real possibility of him getting his feelings hurt. She was very strong willed. Couldn’t budge her mind with a bulldozer. So, if she was dead set on being against this, there wasn’t much he could do anyway.

Still, this wasn’t something he could let go of easily. He had no intentions of hurting her. It wasn’t just some conquest for him. That much he was sure of. He would hate to get closer to her, have her catch feelings for him, then dip because he wasn’t feeling it. But, he seriously doubted that would happen. It’s not like they were complete strangers. He was just seeing her in a new light now. And as much as he didn’t want anyone to get hurt, at this point he didn’t know if this was something he should even avoid. It didn’t seem like it.

Truthfully, he didn’t feel this way often. This pull he now felt toward her. He was usually much too caught up in trying to be the best version of himself he could be to entertain thoughts of others. However, right now she had his attention and he didn’t want to look away. He opened his text thread with her typing and finally sending a message before he could overthink it.

[10:53pm] jk: lunch tomorrow?

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

By Your Doorstep (Part 4)

Summary: The reader and Dean celebrate Tessa’s birthday with a big surprise before making a drastic change to their relationship...

Pairing: Doctor/Neighbor!Dean x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 4,100ish

Warnings: language, angst, mentioned past sexual assault (not graphic)

A/N: Parts of this series are told from two different POV’s. Dean’s POV are written from limited third person. Reader’s POV are second person (like a typical reader insert). Enjoy!…

_________

Dean’s POV

Two Weeks Later

“Oh fuck yeah!” said Dean, jumping up and down in the driveway as he read over the letter in his hands. 

“Dr. Dean that’s a bad word,” said Emily, the five year old three houses down. Dean slapped a hand over his face as she rode past on her bike, her father laughing to himself.

“Hope it’s good news, Dean,” said Chris.

“Very. Sorry about that,” said Dean, Chris waving him off as Dean jogged back inside. He read over the letter again and looked through the packet. “Alright. As long as you keep a B average or above you’re golden kiddo. You get straight A’s anyways so that shouldn’t be a problem.”

Dean smiled and gathered up all of the documents, getting them together with Tessa’s birthday present. Y/N had tried to tell him that giving away his old iPhone was too much but all it did was sit in a drawer now when it worked perfectly fine. He was pretty sure she wasn’t going to be thinking about the phone at all once she found out about the grant.

He looked back at the bag on the table and frowned. Maybe she’d take it the wrong way, like he was trying to save her sister or their family or something like that. He could have given them the application and had them fill it out. They would have probably gotten it still. Dean knew his letter he’d included didn’t hurt but he didn’t want to be that guy. He was already a doctor, already helped Y/N with a job, already paid for dates and things. It was no issue for him at all and he knew she didn’t care about the money but he didn’t want to rub it in her face that he could help more than she could.

Dean grabbed his phone and called Cas, Sam stuck in some network client thing all night he’d told him. It rang a few times before it picked up, the echo in the background telling him he was on speaker.

“Deano!” said Benny. “Gonna make it over tonight after all?”

“Hey guys,” said Dean, sitting down on his couch. “You got the crew together?”

“Nah, just us and the girls. They’re still out shopping. What’s up?” asked Cas.

“You know Y/N?” asked Dean.

“The girl you’re clearly in love with? Yes we know her,” laughed Benny. Dean was quiet and heard them shift on the other end.

“Everything okay?” asked Cas.

“I think I fucked it up. I think I’m going too far too fast.”

“What do you mean?” asked Benny.

“Tessa, her little sister, she’s in high school and I applied for a grant on her behalf for her college and she got it,” said Dean.

“That’s a problem how?” asked Cas.

“I don’t want it to come off as me trying to save them or anything. I’m nervous she’s gonna get mad at me,” said Dean. His friends were quiet and knew a teasing comment wouldn’t come. “Guys.”

“Tell her you applied on a long shot and a grant is what helped you with school. You’re not saving the day, just sharing a benefit you got,” said Benny. “Shit I wish I’d had someone do that for me.”

“What’s going on Dean? You’re normally the last person to freak over shit,” said Cas. Dean sat back and stared up at the ceiling. 

“Talk to us bud,” said Benny.

“I like this girl and it’s been years and years since I had a girlfriend. You guys know I’m not good for more than a fuck,” said Dean.

“Lisa was a super bitch and you know that’s not true,” said Benny.

“I am in my thirties and I’ve never had a real relationship. I don’t even know how. I’m gonna fuck this up so bad. I know it.”

“Contrary to how often I call you a dick, you are one of the best people I’ve ever met,” said Cas.

“I agree and you know all our friends and especially Sammy would say the same thing. Brother you gotta relax. This girl from what you’ve said and everybody else says, well we ain’t never seen you so happy so stop freaking, go get ready for your date tonight and put some faith in this girl that she’s not gonna hurt you back,” said Benny.

“I didn’t say-”

“Dean, we’ve known you forever. We know when you’re scared. I know most people in your life end up hurting you but take it from us, not everyone will. I got a good vibe from her,” said Cas. 

“Me too,” said Dean quietly.

“You doing okay?” asked Benny. “In general you know.”

“Yeah. Most of the time I’m great now. The past few weeks have been awesome. I think maybe that’s why I keep freaking out over this girl. It’s like, fucking finally, I understand what a good relationship can be.”

“You been to Ketch lately?” asked Cas.

“No, not as a patient. I’m okay.”

“Well still go for a tag up every once in a while for us,” said Benny.

“I know. Never would have gone without you assholes getting on my back in the first place.”

“That’s what friends are for,” said Cas, Benny chuckling. “So where you guys going tonight?”

“Monico’s.”

“Fancy,” they both said and Dean rolled his eyes, smiling to himself.

“Goodbye assholes,” said Dean, hearing them laugh before he hung up. He sat up and took a deep breath. “Alright. Shower. Shave and fingers crossed tonight goes well.”

Reader’s POV

“Okay, presents before or after dinner?” you asked as you carried in a bag to Tessa’s room. 

“Before, obviously,” she said. 

“Alright, well I know you wanted something really badly this year,” you said. “Why don’t you open the green one first?”

“This feels like an iPhone box…” she said with a big smile. She tore off the paper and grinned. “Awesome! What one is it?”

“It’s a ten. It’s used but in really good condition. I got you a case and extra charger too,” you said. “We can swing to the store and activate it tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Y/N, really,” she said. She grabbed the card next and her eyes went wide when she saw the cash inside. “Y/N.”

“It’s your money you gave me. It’s yours. Buy whatever you want, okay?” you said. She nodded and unwrapped a few more small things, a book she’d been talking about, some make up you knew she’d use, a new pair of her nike running shorts that’d been on sale thankfully. You smirked when she picked up the last two presents in the bag. “Alright. I hope these are...suitable for you.”

She tore off the wrapping on one and started to laugh.

“It’s hot pink,” she giggled. “Why is it hot pink?”

“Cause vibrators come in a variety of colors,” you said with a laugh. “I will let you read through the charging instructions on your own and same for the other box. There is toy cleaner because yes you need to wash these things properly and I got some water based lube. Go with water based. It dries up faster but it works better to me. Oh and wash everything like five times before it goes anywhere near anything, okay?”

“Okay,” she laughed. “I can’t believe you actually bought me this stuff.”

“Can’t get pregnant off a toy,” you said.

“Definitely can’t do that,” said Dean, Tessa wide eyed as he popped his head into the doorway. She shoved the boxes back into the bag and he laughed. “I’m a doctor. Sex doesn’t bother me and I think your sister has a point.”

“Oh my God, I forgot he was here,” she said, running her hands over her face.

“I was wondering where you two ran off to,” he said. He stepped inside and pulled out a box from behind his back. “Happy birthday, Tessa.”

“Thanks,” she blushed. She undid the bow and paper, smiling as she opened the box. There was an envelope inside but she picked up the headphones and shook her head. “Dean I can’t accept this. It’s too much. I already know the iPhone must have been yours.”

“You are smarter than you look,” he said. “But I can’t accept your refusal of my present. I have new ones and those never get used and I’m bigger than you so you’re gonna lose this argument one way or the other.”

“I’d listen to him, Tessa. He gets his way when he wants it,” you said. She rolled her eyes but smiled.

“Thank you. People haven’t been nice to us the past couple years,” she said. You glanced down to the floor, Dean leaving his arm wrapped around your waist. 

“People weren’t all that nice to me either for a long time,” he said with a nod. “Someday when you’re able, you help somebody else out, understand?”

“Yeah,” she said with a nod.

“Open the envelope. This one’s a present to you both,” he said. You cocked your head as she tore it open, reading for a long time before she pulled out a paper and handed it to you.

“Dean,” you said, sitting down on her bed after you’d read it a few times. “Dean this…”

“It’s a grant. It’s very similar to a scholarship. I’m an alumni of Elmdale and the medical school there. Tessa you qualify and so I applied on your behalf a few weeks ago and you were accepted. The grant will cover half of four years of tuition,” he said.

“What does that mean?” asked Tessa.

“It means we will have to pay very little with financial aid,” you said. She was beaming and you shook your head. “You applied weeks ago?”

“After I met you two. This house seemed familiar to me for some reason until I remembered. Y/N I told you someone helped me when I was eighteen?”

“Yeah?”

“I think his picture is hanging in the hall,” he said.

“Our dad?” asked Tessa.

“He got me a job and helped me pay for part of my school. I came here once when I needed his help. Your father was a very good man and it’s clear his daughters are the same. Neither one of you deserves to go through all the pain I did. I don’t want you to. It was no trouble at all to do, I swear.”

“Tessa, I work at Dean’s office as a lab tech,” you said. She turned her head and you saw Dean nod. “I lost my job before. We were scraping by. Barely. We’re okay now but without this grant...it would have wiped out our inheritance. That was for weddings and down payments for houses. We can keep it now...we can keep the house now.”

“You hate this house though,” she said. “I hate this house.”

“Tessa-”

“We can downsize,” she said. “Y/N, every night you stare down at their bedroom door. It’s like we live with ghosts or something. It doesn’t have to be so tight. Do we really need a five bedroom house?”

“It’s not as tight anymore. We’ll talk about it. Let’s go celebrate all the good news,” you said. “I’ve been dying for a Monico’s steak.”

“She seemed pretty happy tonight,” said Dean as you sat on the front porch a few hours later. You hummed and rocked in your seat beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. “Did I overstep?”

“No. You were the boy in the mailroom, weren’t you. Dad used to talk about you sometimes. Mostly when I didn’t want to do something. He told me some people my age have it so much harder.”

“True. But you can’t compare one person’s struggles to another’s. It’s not fair to either one.”

“Would you sell this house if you were me?” you asked.

“I like that you live close by. I’d miss that. But it’s a lotta house for the two of you and it sounds like a change might be a good thing. You could downsize to somewhere else in the neighborhood and probably bank a good chunk of money for later on.”

“We could.” Dean was quiet, gears turning in his head. “What are you thinking of?”

“My house is a five bedroom too.”

“Yours is also newer,” you said. “And bigger.”

“Tell me if I’m crossing a line but...you guys...could stay there if you decided to sell this place. Temporarily. Or not temporarily,” he said. You stared up at him and he looked away. “Like I said, I’m sorry, I know it’s...I should go.”

“Hey. I’m not afraid of you.” His head turned back towards you and he swallowed thickly. “Tell me another secret and I’ll you one.”

“I think I I’m falling in love with you and I’m afraid I’m going too fast and that you think I’m creepy or weird deep down and I’m up to something when all I really see is me and my brother in you and your sisters places and I know how much it sucks and how much it hurts and I know you protect her from stuff she doesn’t even know about. I’m sorry for saying that about the house just now. I’d still like to see you though if that’s okay.”

“I think this is fast too but I also think that part of me fell for you the day you carried her home. You don’t want anything from us. Just to help and it’s not because you pity us or anything like that. If I’ve learned anything yet in life it’s that you don’t know when it’s gonna stop and there’s no use in wasting time.”

“What are you saying?”

“You willing to put up with a teenager, a service dog and someone who has not had a moment to themselves in two years?”

“As long as you don’t snore,” he smiled. You laughed and kissed his cheek. “Are you serious?”

“I don’t like this house anymore. If she doesn’t want it, I don’t want it. Maybe we can do some test runs, stay over for a weekend or two, see if we want to make it a not temporary thing.”

“That sounds great,” he smiled. “We’ll figure it out, sweetheart.”

Two Months Later

“I’m home,” you said on the way back from the store. You’d been staying at Dean’s for two weeks now after a nice couple closed on your old house. So far it’d been great and you were perfectly happy to stay there with him and Tessa for the foreseeable future. “I picked up some-”

“He is not my dad. I am eighteen,” said Tessa as she stormed over to the foyer. You glanced back to where Dean was over in the kitchen and sighed. “I want to go to Paulie’s tonight.”

“Who is Paulie?” you asked as you kicked off your boots.

“A friend,” she said.

“You’ve literally never mentioned him before,” you said, carrying some groceries through the family room and to the kitchen.

“That’s what I said,” said Dean as he peeled a potato at the island.

“I thought I said you’re not my dad so you can shut the fuck up.”

“Hey!” you shouted, Tessa freezing up. “Apologize to Dean.”

“He-”

“We are stable for the first time ever because of him. I trust Dean to make decisions for you when I’m not home. If he said no, then the answer is no. Go to your room,” you said. She grumbled and pounded her feet upstairs. You washed up and gripped the countertop. “I’m sorry. I can’t believe she said that to you.”

“It’s okay. I’ll be the bad guy,” he said as he picked up another potato. “Paulie what’s his face doesn’t sound like he wants anything other than in her pants so she can swear all she likes at me.”

“What’d she say exactly?”

“She wants to go over to Paulie’s tonight to hang out with some friends but I overheard her and Hailey talking earlier this week about a party and I don’t need a medical degree to put it together.”

“If she sneaks out I’ll kill her,” you said. You glanced down to Toast’s dog bowl and paused. “Dean what would happen if she drank on her medication.”

“She can’t drink alcohol on that stuff,” he said. 

“What would happen if she did.”

“She could have a seizure,” he said. 

“Tessa!” you shouted. You jogged upstairs and found her bedroom empty. “Tessa!”

The house was quiet and you put your hands on your head. 

“Toast!” you shouted, the dog trotting out from Dean’s bedroom. You immediately ran inside, Dean already upstairs and you saw her sitting out on the balcony in a chair, her face in her knees. 

“Can I…” said Dean and you nodded. You followed him outside, Dean walking over and squatting by her seat. “Tessa, what are you doing out here?”

“I wish I was normal, didn’t have a fucked up head.”

“I got one too,” he said.

“Do you have to take medicine for seizures? No?” she said.

“No but my dad used to beat me up,” he said. She turned and he nodded. “He would try to beat up my little brother too sometimes but I would take the hits when I could. Tessa, you can’t drink when you’re on your medicine. You just can’t.”

“I know that,” she said.

“You can’t sneak out and leave Toast behind either. It’s not safe.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

“Y/N and I get scared too is all.”

“You just pretend to like me cause you fuck my sister.”

“For the record, I don’t fuck your sister. Relationships are complicated. You might not realize this but I care about you for you. If I didn’t I would not want you in my house, in our house, and I wouldn’t get scared about you going to parties with guys that just want to use you for sex. I give a shit about you Tessa whether you believe me or not.”

“You don’t care,” she scoffed. “You feel sorry for us. Nobody on earth would ask two strangers to move in unless you-”

“Tessa you can think whatever you want about me. I’m not your father and I’ll never try to be him. But I sure as shit know how to be an older brother. So be pissed off and be rude and whatever else you want to. I’ve done this before with my own brother. You don’t scare me. The only thing that does is you getting taken advantage of or you getting hurt and Toast isn’t there to help. Someday you’ll get it through that thick skull of yours what the truth is but until then, I’ll be the asshole who doesn’t let you go to parties you’ll get hurt at.”

“You pity us.”

“I’m jealous of you.” She stared at him and you swallowed in the doorway. “Your parents loved you. Mine didn’t. You want to talk about being fucked up? I’m here anytime.”

She nodded and he sat up on the bench with her. You went inside and finished preparing the potatoes, mashing them up and saving them for later. It was nearly ten by the time you heard the stairs creak and Dean walked down them.

“Y/N,” said Tessa. You got up from the couch and walked to the bottom of the stairs, Tessa glancing down. “I’m sorry for how I’ve acted today and treated Dean lately. I was…”

“It’s okay,” he said quietly as he rubbed her back.

“I was scared when we moved in here a few weeks ago. I don’t want to lose you too and Dean takes up time that it used to be just us and I know the accident wasn’t my fault but I feel guilty still sometimes and I know your life is different because of it too and I want you guys to be happy, I do. I just get scared you’ll forget about me. I don’t wanna be alone. I’m not ready.”

“You don’t ever have to be alone, Tessa,” you said. She nodded and looked up at Dean.

“I know. I was silly. But I’m better now,” she said. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” you said.

“I know,” she said. 

“Why don’t you head to bed, Tess. Tomorrow I can come to your session with you like we talked about,” said Dean. She nodded and walked upstairs, Toast trotting into her room. You walked upstairs and into your bedroom with Dean, shutting the door after yourselves. “I should have...change is difficult on kids with PTSD. I should have realized that’s why she’s been so snippy. I thought it was just hormones.”

“Probably both,” you said, climbing onto the bed. He lay down next to you, staring up at the ceiling. “You care for her.”

“You two are a package deal, sweetheart,” he said with a light chuckle. “Can’t love one without loving the other.”

“Like you and Sam,” you smiled. “I can’t wait to meet him in person.”

“Me too.”

“Is Tessa okay? You guys talked a really long time.”

“She was afraid I would replace her, push her out. Granted I do like spending alone time with you and everything but she needs you and I’m not here to take you away from her. I think she understands that now.”

“Dean why haven’t we had sex?” you asked. He sat up and you shrugged. “We’ve dated nearly three months and you don’t even try to cop a feel. For how fast certain things are between us, that one feels a little slow. I just want to understand. I don’t...I’m not saying it’s a problem I just want to know.”

“You asked me on our first date, or you made a comment, that I don’t seem like the shy around women type.”

“Yeah?”

“I didn’t use to be. A smidge, especially if they were the one that seemed to be controlling the situation but it was always good. I had some girlfriends, had some hookups. More than my fair share of hookups. The girlfriends…”

“The bitch one?” you said, getting a chuckle out of him.

“I stopped thinking I was relationship material for a while. So I did hookups for a long time and that was good. Until about two years ago. I haven’t had sex since.”

“Did someone hurt you?”

“No. I just...I asked her to stop and she didn’t.”

“Dean she hurt you.”

“It’s not that big a deal.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Well I don’t want to talk about it anymore, okay?” he said. He put his back to you and you took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I know we sleep in the same bed and…”

“And I don’t need to have sex with you. Would I like it? Sure. But my sister and I aren’t the only ones in this house that need to be taken care of. You’ve done a really good job of that lately and I’d like to start pulling my weight in that department. When you’re ready for sex, you tell me, otherwise, I will just cuddle you real hard until then, okay?”

“Alright,” he said quietly. He reached behind himself and wrapped your arms around him. You kissed the back of his neck, Dean taking slow breaths. “I don’t really know how to let someone take care of me though.”

“We’ll take it slow,” you said. “Like maybe with you being little spoon tonight.”

“Alright. I can try, sweetheart.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 5 here!

[omnicycleuwu]

So I keep coming across Percy Jackson fanfics where someone from our world has been reincarnated as Percy and their reader inserts.

Bestie, if I was reincarnated as Percy you best be ready. You though Perseus Jackson was a simp before? Well I’m about to make it his middle name.

I would be simping for Annabeth from day one and if she didn’t kiss me when I’m about to blow the fuck outta a volcano I will just jump into the lava to quietly cry myself to the Underworld.

I would hands down beef Luke for what he’s done to my baby girl, he should be wishing that he did die when Thalia booted his ass off the cliff cause not even the curse of Achilles would save him when I jump him on site. (I’d also be high key/low key jealous cause yeah he’s hot but how can one simp for this pasty man-child? He ain’t no hero he a villain, that I plan to drown in his own bodily fluids)

The Hunters of Artemis would keep getting mail from me on which men they should just shoot off the face of this Earth. All of a sudden all these famous politicians and celebrities have mysteriously vanished off the face with only a statue of them left behind. (I’m totally not talking about Prince Andrew or Donald Trump, hah hah hah….unless)

Hestia would be the only god/goddess I pray to, she the only one that hasn’t fucked up his life so gets all the respect given.

If I haven’t asked Annabeth to step on me multiple times in a day am I really okay? If I haven’t waxed out poetics and novels by the time the sun sets am I perhaps having a mental breakdown? If expensive architecture books don’t appear on her bunk at the end of every week that I totally didn’t beg Rachel to buy for me am I possibly being mind controlled?

Percy already heavily hinted that he would be happy being a househusband and I would defo go to town with that. Imagine Annabeth coming home after a long day at work and I’ve cooked dinner and then she like fucks me against the counter or smth while wearing a suit. Like bitch, please peg me. The idea of Annabeth pegging Percy actually makes me cry with happiness. They’re both switches or Percy is a bottom. I don’t care, he’s such a fucking simp (well so is Annabeth but she’s more of a low-key simp but she shows it sometimes, like she put him on house arrest to pass a test to be able to go New Rome with her. If that isn’t simp behaviour then I don’t know what is)

Athena could try all she wants but after she tells me to leave her daughter tf alone I’d sweep Annabeth into a dance and respectfully kiss the hell outta her right in front of her mother. Ain’t nobody keep me from giving the best girl all the love and respect she deserves.

The dates I would take this girl on, everyone would hate me cause they’d constantly compare their partners to me. You thought you were romantic with your boo before? then you clearly haven’t met me yet.

Don’t even get me started on Sally Jackson. Every Saturday I will wake up and make her breakfast in bed. The house will be clean. Dinner cooked for the weekend. The shopping done. I will do a whole at home spa for her.

The gods thought that Percy was an issue from before, hah, I would be starting problems from day one. Hurry up and pay your fucking child support. You traumatised too many single parents by dumping them with a danger magnet without a warning. Who needs society when you can have distant, inhuman parents that only use you as their pawn and constantly sending you on life endangering quests in order for them to remain in power while all you get in return is mental health and not being voted to be killed by the ‘good guys’ for saving their asses😍😍

I would have adopted half the camp tbh, like ‘Nico wtf u already looking like you are with the dead? Get your ass to my apartment so I can cook food for you, if you don’t I’ll track you down and spoon feed you. I don’t give a shit.’

Anyone wanna disrespect Annabeth, Sally or women will have to deal with me. I will throw hands without a warning, there’s no homophobia in my household Karen. And if I hear your racist comments coming anywhere near my children Hazel, Piper, Leo or Frank then we will have problems, which will be seen on your pale ass mayonnaise skin.

Ngl I would have learnt how to control blood, poisons and have decent control of my powers by the third/fourth book for scientific reasons and not because I totally wanna look like a hot anti-hero as I completely annihilate my enemies . My death glare would be perfected to the point that people would just faint on sight when I give them the look. (On the assumption that Percy could have gained the ability to manipulate events outside his godly parents domain without having to journey through Tartarus)

Mate if I was Percy Jackson I would not stop looking in every reflective surface I pass for at least ten seconds cause damn do I look good. I look fine, refined, divine, sexy. I am a mother fucking SNACC. But I would grow Percy’s hair out cause Percy with long hair resides in my dreams at night.

I don’t see why I would need to ask Athena or Frederick to marry their daughter. She is her own independent woman who raised herself without their help so she can decide whether she would accept a matrimonial union with a measly peasant. (And if Annabeth doesn’t propose I would be severely upset cause who doesn’t want Annabeth Chase to propose to them) Our wedding would take out all the stupid traditions because Annabeth Chase is not an object that is being passed from father to husband but is a being so divine that I can’t help but melt in a puddle every time I look at her. (If we were to do any of the traditions I would be the object being handed to her cause damn do I wanna be fucking owned by her, Perseus Chase….. Perseus Chase-Jackson….. Perseus Jackson-Chase….)

And I’m gonna stop myself before I go on another rant that instead, being Annabeth Chase and getting the privilege of being in a relationship with Percy Jackson. Cause these two aren’t just dating their are in a committed, loving relationship that teaches me what a healthy relationship should be like and how to get better at communicating with one another and respecting each other.

[imaginesupply]

Homecoming - Chapter One

Chapter Two can be found here

(Gif’s not my own.)

Summary: The day has arrived, Captain Syverson is going home. For good, this time. He is going home to a civilian life he can hardly remember and a wife he barely knows, with memories of the war still fresh on his mind. Love might not be able to heal everything on its own, but it’s a good start.

Genres: Romance, drama.

Story warnings: Smut (always fully consensual), mentions of PTSD and nightmares and mental health, angst, hurt and comfort, fluff, mentions of war (minor), mentions of cheating (minor), mentions of pregnancy (very minor), police appearance (very minor), violence (very minor).

Notes:

It’s my first time writing for one of Henry’s characters and I’m unsure I did Sy’s character any justice.

This is a Capt. Syverson x OFC (Ada) story, written in 3rd person POV but OFC’s physical description is very limited so it could also be read as Capt. Syverson x Reader, I think.

English is not my first language, so there might be some mistakes. Proofread, but not beta’ed. We die like men and all that.

Timeline is a little wacky: The movie takes place in 2003 and the U.S. forces were withdrawn from Iraq in 2011, but I never set a precise date because I don’t think it’s essential for this story. However, some elements might not be realistic because if we set this story in 2003: Phone cameras  quality was not as good as it’s now, but for the purpose of the chapters, I will need you to imagine you could film great videos with your flip phone haha. Plus, it says Sy is coming back after being deployed for more than three years which makes no sense unless we set this in 2006 or later. I am asking you disregard any time inconsistencies 

Also: I am not American. I only lived in the US for six months and it was in the Midwest, not Texas so please bear with me if I write something stupid.

Finally: This is pretty much a Christmas fic and I intend to post the last chapter (there will be seven in total) on or before Christmas. However, religion is never mentioned in this story and the Christmas-sy elements of this story are limited to family gathering, gift giving and tree decorating.

Chapter One starts after the cut. Let me know if you wish to be tagged in the new chapters.

Chapter One

Chapter warnings: Badly written smut (consensual), marriage awkwardness, alcohol consumption. Maybe OOC Sy, I don’t know. We never saw him being casual.

Sy checked his phone again as he waited for his bag by the baggage carousel. The airport was even busier than usual, it was taking ages and he was impatient to get out of there... and maybe even never set foot in an airport again for the rest of his life.

He read her text again, short and sweet. He sometimes called her that, short and sweet, just to tease her. Ada was considerably shorter than him and full of sugar, when she wanted to be, that was.

'I'm waiting by the gate for you, with a warm cinnabon :) So excited to see you again <3.'

Just then a notification popped up from Harper. It was a photo of the soldier at the airport, finally reunited with his wife and his two rugrats. It made Sy all the more excited to see Ada again, and then as if on cue, his camo bag appeared in the carousel and he groaned with relief.

He stood restless amidst the line, it seemed people in front of him were dragging their feet, but when they noticed his green beret uniform, most parted and let him through. Sy tipped his head gratefully.  

His wife was there, just outside the gate. Sy spotted her instantly in the crowd of people. She was wearing a red dress under her open coat and her hair looked fresh out of the hairdresser. He caught himself grinning at the sight of her. Then, once she spotted him making his way over to her, she started waving her hand excitedly as if there was any way his eyes hadn't already landed on her. He wished he still had his phone in hand to capture this moment for all of eternity, but his memory would have to do, he decided before casting his arms open for his wife. Fuck, did he love her!

°°°

Ada had been biting her nails nervously for the past two hours. She had arrived at the airport way too early. The parking fee would hurt but she couldn't find it in herself to care at this point.

Three weeks ago, she had received a call informing her that her husband and part of his unit had been ambushed. There had been an explosion in some building they were scouting only God knows where.

Only a full week after that did she receive a call from Sy himself. He was coming home. For good, this time. They were sending him home early, a full eight months earlier than what he had originally negotiated with his superiors. She hadn't been prepared for the news. She had spent the days following the call asking herself whether she had heard him right, making sure her mind wasn't playing tricks on her.

Now he was here, stopping right in front of her, his thick arms inviting her right in for a hug. Ada wouldn't have been able to resist the invitation even if she had wanted to. Within a second, she was enveloped in his embrace, her cheek pressed against his chest. She was overjoyed to feel his heartbeat again. Sy kisses the crown of her head before putting her down, his hands never leaving her lower back, his fingers big enough to reach the swell of her bum from there.

They pulled away a few inches to take each other in. His beard has grown a little long, but it was not enough to hide his apparent dimples as he smiled. He looked a little older too, she hadn't seen in seven months, except through a shitty quality facetime call once or twice. Her careful gaze spotted the new scar by his temple, it was the only visible physical evidence of the explosion he had been caught in. She dreaded what she might under his uniform.

Sy caught her eyes and she found herself blushing under his stare. It was always like that the first few hours when he was back, until she got used to his overwhelming presence again and to the fact that this handsome bear of a man was indeed her husband.

"You're looking good, darlin'," Sy grinned, making her spin for him. "I missed you."

Ada couldn’t resist his smile. "I missed you too, Sy." She confessed, handing him the still warm cinnamon roll in its paper bag.

He accepted the pastry with a smile and started eating it immediately but not before throwing his arm around her shoulders as they began making their way to the parking lot. Sy was eager to get her out of the crowd and have her just to him himself.

"So, what's the plan, darlin'?" Sy inquired with mischief to his voice, balling up the paper bag with his free hand and throwing it inside the trash can. "Did you book that hotel with the jacuzzi in the bedroom again?"

It had become a tradition of some sort between them. They would always spend his first night back at that hotel: they'd order some room service and eat in the jacuzzi. Though, usually, they would first end up on together on the bed.

Ada stopped suddenly in her tracks, making him still behind her. She smiled sheepishly. "Don't be mad," she started, his smile falling at once, "but your family is waiting for us in the parking lot. Your mom insisted that we celebrate your homecoming at the restaurant. Something about you missing Thanksgiving just by a couple days."

Sy groaned, thinking about the evening that now expected him. He'd been flying for God knows how many hours, all he wanted was a warm bath and Ada whichever way she'd let him have her, not a damn dinner party.

"I'm sorry, Sy."

He shook his head and leaned down to kiss her forehead again. "Don't worry, darlin'. I know it ain’t your fault."

As soon as they reached the open-air parking lot, Sy's nephew and niece start running up to him, having escaped their parents' grasp. His family was waiting for him with cheers and a 'welcome home, soldier' banner. Sy hated that kind of attention and she found it cringy as well, but she had been unable to stop his mother. Ada watched him hug the kids and lift them up into the air, making them laugh as she walked up to the machine to pay the fee.

Her hand trembled as she inserted the ticket into the slot, missing the opening a few times. She was happy - no, scratch that - she was ecstatic to have her husband back. It's just that, could you really say 'back' when there was never truly a 'before', a 'there'?

They had met when he was already deployed, but on a short leave back in Austin. They spent three weeks together, got married and he returned to Iraq. Since then, the longest stretch of time they had been together had been twenty days. Neither of them had ever gotten settled into married life and now he was 'back'. For good. Which was wonderful and foreign and overwhelming all at once.

Ada paid the fee and returned to join them, finding Sy hugging his mother. She smiled at the sight. She walked over to greet her sister-in-law and her husband, confirming that they'd meet up at the restaurant. With that, she went to the car, deciding to give Sy some more time with his family, and herself an occasion to take a few breaths and calm her buzzing heart.

"You didn't tell me my mom had gotten herself a boyfriend." Sy grumbled immediately as he sat down next to her in the car, putting on his seatbelt.

Ada turned on the engine and backed out of the spot. "I knew you wouldn't like it," she defended before casting a side glance at him. "Besides, I figured it wasn't my place to tell you."

Sy hummed noncommittally, removing his cap to rake his hand through his cropped hair.

"Though, as much as I don't exactly like your mother," Ada added quietly, "she's been on her own ever since your dad passed a couple years ago. With your father gone and you away, she must have felt lonely.”

°°°

Sy spent the rest of the drive mulling over her words in his head. The fuck was that supposed to mean? As soon as a woman feels lonely, she takes up a boyfriend?! Was Ada lonely too while he was away and… He wanted to ask if she was implying anything but then one look at her and he decided against it. Breathing out deeply, he forces himself to relax. He was just stressed out and on edge.

It was inevitable that things would have changed while he had been away. That was something he thought about frequently late at night when he got to be alone. Still, he hoped things hadn’t changed all too much. Ada still looked just as she had on their road trip to Vegas, focused on the road but leaning back on her seat, just one hand on the wheel with a grin on her lips. His wife loved driving.

"You got your nails done." Sy commented, already hoping the whole dinner thing would be over quickly so that he could go home with her.

Ada turned to him with a chuckle for a second, wriggling her graceful fingers and red painted nails, her wedding band reflecting the light. "I wanted to look pretty for you."

Sy huffed. "You always look pretty to me, Ada," he said and then watched her scoff.

"Or maybe, I just wanted to make sure I'd be able to scratch you up nicely," she wife winked.

Yeah, this dinner thing couldn't be over fast enough.

°°°

Ada saw him eat so much over dinner, she couldn’t help but wonder if he was going to be sick later. And, of course, the double serving of smoked ribs had to be accompanied with generous amounts of beer and whisky. She didn0t blame him, though. Out of curiosity, she once researched what they ate while on deployment and it looked anything but tasty. If she had been in his shoes, she'd have been eating her own weight in pizza and brownies right now.  

It also didn’t help that his brother-in-law and his mom's new boyfriend, Phil from the hardware store, kept asking him about Baqubah and even touching on the subject of the explosion. It was obvious how uncomfortable the subject made him, his grip tightening around his knife and his jaw tensing up so tightly, she could imagine his teeth grinding.

So, Sy kept asking for refills, raising his glass, and giving them vague answers, but it seemed they didn't get the hint. At least, the subject changed when his sister interrupted the conversation to announce she was expecting again. A little girl.

Ada used the moments of cheer that followed to excuse herself from the table and go to the restroom. She was still somewhat nervous and her face was damp. She would have given anything for a glass of scotch at that moment but she was driving tonight.

Helen, Sy's mom appeared right behind her just as she was washing her hands. She hoped the woman would just disappear inside a stall but she wasn’t that lucky.

"Jack is back." Helen stated, arms crossed. A shiver ran through Ada's spine, damn she hated that woman. "For good."

Ada dried her hands with a paper towel, looking back at her mother-in-law through the mirror. "He is."

"Now's the time to prove yourself to this family and show us that Sy was right in marrying you.”

Before Ada could ask what the hell that was supposed to mean, Helen finally disappeared inside a stall. Rolling her eyes, Ada went to leave the restrooms when Helen decides to add some more venom. "Maybe a good start would be calling him by his first name, as a wife would."

°°°

"When do you start at Camp Mabry?" Ada asked, looking away from the steering wheel to glance at him for a second. Sy looked exhausted, not that she could she blame him after three different flights and a seemingly endless dinner. They had finally called it a night once the kids had started getting fussy.

"January 15th." He replied. "But they want me to stop by before then to have a look around the base and sign the contract."

"You're going to boss the hell out of the new recruits," Ada laughed, getting him to lighten up and even chuckle.

"You'd be surprised to know I'm actually a fair and considerate captain," Sy defended himself.

Next to him, Ada huffed as she tried stiffing the bubble of laughter, trying not miss the right exit off the main road.

"I just value discipline and compliance a lot," he added, his tone growing teasing.

This time, she was unable to stop her laugh. "Believe me, I know you do."

The drive was a short one to their house in the suburbs and she was soon parking her in their driveaway.

Ada fumbled with the key as she tried opening the front door, nervousness setting back in as she felt Sy standing behind her, holding his duffel bag. He followed in quickly after her, once she had finally managed to open the door.

"Welcome home, captain!" Ada cheered in her silliest tone as he discarded his bag on the floor.

Then, before she could even react, Sy was on her. His arms lifted her up, his body caging hers against the wall before capturing her lips in the most ferocious kiss she could imagine.

Out of instinct, her legs locked around his waist and her hands dug into his shoulders, unwilling to let go of him now that he was finally there. Sy grinned against her lips, amused by her fervour, not that he felt any different.

He broke off the kiss as he pulled them away from the wall, freeing a hand to shrug her coat off her shoulders. "You ain't gonna need that, darlin'," he promised, throwing the coat in the direction of the kitchen, not caring where it landed.

Then his mouth latched on to her throat, forcing a delicious moan out of his wife as he carefully manoeuvred them upstairs, still steady on his feet despite the alcohol. Sy was almost surprised when he pushed open the door to their bedroom with his foot and it didn't squeak, but that thought was fleeting as Ada started rolling her hips against his. Suddenly, nothing else mattered. Not the war, not the explosion or his guilt, only the woman in his arms.

Unceremoniously, he let her fall on the bed, the urgency now flowing through his blood keeping him from doing things the gentleman way. Ada didn't mind, giggling as she unzipped her dress and slid the red thing over her head, along with her bra. Apparently, she had decided to forego panties. Sy stood there, almost mesmerised as he watched her, suddenly not certain if he dared tainting her with his touch but Ada quickly made that decision for him as she got up on her knees.

"A little less staring and a little more undressing, captain," she purred with a smirk, her fingers determined as they made quick work of the buttons on his shirt.

"That's it, darlin'. You're in for it now," Sy roared, pulling her in for another furious kiss before pushing her back against the mattress, making her land on her back as he got undressed in record time. Fuck, was he hard.

"Open up for your captain." Sy ordered and Ada complied instantly, her legs falling open for him as she peered up at him, holding herself up on her elbows and worrying her lower lip between her teeth. "That's a good girl," he praised.

Without losing another second, Sy settled in between her legs, wrapping his strong arms around her thighs and parting them to their limits. He wanted to worship her body the way she deserved, show her exactly just how appreciative he was of her, how much he craved her, but it had been months and Sy was a starving man who had just been presented with the perfect meal.

"Fuck Sy!" Ada screamed out, her back arching off the bed the instant he licked her just where she craved him most. He chuckled against her, marvelling at how wet she already was for him.

She tried closing her legs around his head, rejoicing at the feeling of his beard rubbing against her sensitive skin and never wanting him to leave again, but his arms were too strong for her clenching thighs. She was left defenceless against his assault, with no choice but to obscenely moan her pleasure and let herself cum against his tongue as his thumb expertly massaged her clit.

The coil inside her snapped and her body tensed up before letting go just as suddenly, her now damp back falling back on the mattress. "Fuck, Sy." Ada breathed out, her chest heaving as she tried to reopen her eyes only to find her husband playfully gazing up at her, smirking with her arousal glistening on his beard. The sight alone almost made her cum again. "I'll never let you leave again!"

He smiled in response, placing a kiss on her lower stomach before crawling up her body. "I've no intention to, baby," he promised.

Ada caught a glimpse of his hard, flushed erection as his body slid over hers, realizing in her post-orgasmic haze that she was in for an even bigger treat now. She could taste herself in his mouth as they kissed, his hand slithering behind her back to seize her shoulder and hold her closer. Teasingly, he started rolling his hips, his hard clock rubbing against her slick cunt, coating himself with arousal before finally, he found his way inside her, burying his head next to hers in the pillow.

Ada whimpered as he did so, her eyes tearing up as his clock slid inside her. She had evidently grown unaccustomed to his girth and length in his absence. Sy paused immediately, his muscles tense as he looked at her with concern. “You okay?” She nodded in silence, wanting him to start moving but Sy looked unconvinced, using all his strength to keep still despite his desire to fuck her right into the mattress. Without a warning, Ada tightly wrapped her legs around his hips, making him go deeper. Sy let out a reverberating groan. “God, darlin’. I missed you.”

He started thrusting into her with such vigour, such determination it felt as if he was trying to bury himself so deep inside her, no one would ever be able to pry him away from her again. It did hurt, her cervix was getting battered with each of his hard movements but she found herself enjoying the pain because it was him; it was Sy and he was right there with her, back in her arms, and she could feel his heart beat beneath her fingertips as her hand gripped at his chest.

"Fuck, I'm... I’m," Ada gasped incoherently, her nails now scratching the skin of his back. Sy was sure there would be marks there in the morning which made him enjoy the sensation even more.

"I got you," he rasped. If possible, he pulled her even tighter to him, his pubic bone now rubbing against hers in that delicious way only he was able to do. Her slick walls were now contracting around him, her second orgasm impending. "Fuck," he groaned, his breath coming out in a stutter. "Are you...Can I...?"

Sy didn't have to word it, she knew what he meant. "Cum in me, Sy. Please," she almost begged.

Her words did it. His hips stuttered as he pushed in deep just when his orgasm washed over him, exploding inside her. His face contorted with pleasure and that sight alone had her fast tracking her fall over the figurative edge. He had his face buried on the crook of her neck, muffling his groans and moans against her skin as the dam gave way within her.

°°°

Sy grunted against his pillow, slowly waking up the following morning. He was convinced he was just rousing after a very nice dream and he was ready to toss his alarm clock across the room, furious at the object for interrupting his dream, that for once, had been a good one. With a startle, Sy realized that no blasting alarm had woken him up but the sunlight on his face. Opening his eyes, he felt almost as if on foreign ground. He was home.

As quietly as he could manage, Sy turned around in bed, seeking his wife only to find her side empty. Just at that moment, he heard cursing coming up from the kitchen and scoffed. He’d bet his life Ada was cracking eggs, something she hated.

Feeling rested and in a much more relaxed mood than the previous day, Sy got out of bed and started searching for a pair of boxer briefs so he could go join her downstairs when he caught a sniff of himself. Fuck, did he stink. How Ada hadn’t thrown him out of bed, he didn’t know.

Out of habit, Sy hurried to the en-suite bathroom, wanting to shower as fast as possible before realizing that this time around, it was different. He wasn’t going back, he didn’t have to rush, their time together wasn’t counted. With that in mind, Sy forced himself to take his time, enjoying the act of brushing his teeth in a bathroom that smelled nice and showering with warm water. Ada had purchased his usual brands of shower gel and toothpaste, he noticed, even putting a red bow around his brand-new toothbrush by the sink. Even though he initially wanted to take his time to enjoy it, Sy still ended up rushing as he dried himself with a blue fluffy towel he didn’t recognize from his previous stay. He didn’t bother putting on anything more than his boxer briefs before heading downstairs. If he was lucky, he wouldn’t keep them on for long either.

Sy walked into one of the best sights he had even seen, when he entered the kitchen. Ada was standing in front of the stove, rhythmically tapping the black spatula against her naked thigh as she focused on the eggs and bacon she was preparing. The thin negligee - or whatever she called it, he always forgot - barely covered her ass and that outfit alone was one of the reasons he never minded that she always cracked up the heat so high, he felt like he was back under the hot desert sun.

Silent and stealthy like a predator despite his stature, Sy sneaked up on her from behind and wrapped his arms around her waist, feeling her startle before relaxing once she noticed it was him. She smelled heavenly, Sy thought, resting his chin on the top of her head. "Watcha got cooking, darlin'?"

"Obviously breakfast," she sassed, making him softly pinch her ass in response. Ada squealed and jumped up. "Good morning to you too, Sy," she said but not before slapping the handle of the spatula against his thigh. He decided to let it slide... for now.

"Morning darlin'," he answered, kissing the crown of her head before darting his fingers into the pan and picking up a piece of bacon. It was sizzling hot, but the taste was worth it. He had missed being home! Speaking of being home... "What do you say we take the food and coffee upstairs and have ourselves breakfast in bed?" His tone failed to hide his true intentions.

Ada scoffed, the back of her head rubbing on his hairy chest and she shook her head. "Nice try but I actually intend to feed you. Your mother will have my head if I let you go hungry."

It was Sy's turn to laugh, his hands now roaming her body as she leaned forward to turn off the stove, pressing her ass against his crotch and eliciting a husky groan from him. "I'm hungry enough to eat both breakfast and you, don't worry."

Ada turned around, a huge grin on her angelic face. "Alright, you win. What do you say, we have breakfast, we do the kinky and then go grocery shopping?"

Sy tried hiding his smile but it was a lost cause. He loved it when she talked like that. He loved her, point. "Yes, ma'am."

[douxspider]

— 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞. (3)

‘ARVIN RUSSELL x READER INSERT’

( spoilers for “the devil all the time” ) — Waking up at Reader's place, we finally get a glimpse at Arvin's POV. Though, while their relationship seems to be moving forward, it seems like the whole 'running away into the sunset' deal only happens in fiction.

+ this is the third part to peachy keen! (ao3 link)

warnings: angst, almost smutty but nothing explicit is written, mentions of murder, preston teagardin lmao, rated mature word count: 4,244 published: 9/24/20 ao3 link — part 1, 2

— — • — — 

When Arvin woke up leaned against you, he felt his face turn into a beet shade of red. Slowly parting from your leaning form on the couch, he rubbed his eye, unaware that he had an actual decent rest in such a cramped position. He hardly ever felt comfortable enough to sleep in his own bed. Usually, attempts at sleep were mostly met with staring at the ceiling blankly, recalling haunting memories on repeat in his head.

His thoughts were blank when he fell asleep. Arvin was met with nothing but the television’s staticy audio and the sound of your quiet breathing.

He looked over to take in your features— what amazing features, he thought— and found his hand carefully creeping to the side of your face to brush the knuckle of a finger near your ear, tucking a strand of hair behind it lovingly.

Arvin loved you.

He knew he shouldn’t— he knew he had no idea what love was— but within the few months spent together, Arvin knew he liked you too much to be calling it ‘liking’ and ‘platonic’.

That one stormy evening alongside memories of beating the hell out of Lenora’s bullies, blood and bruising splattering his knuckles like paint, he needed a place to clear his head. He needed a place that was quiet in every way shape and form. Arvin had been driving with a foggy haze before his eyes had locked onto McCann Boys. Arvin wasn’t hungry. He wasn’t anything, he just needed to sit somewhere other than a damn car where he could swerve into a building and die.

When he stepped in, the immediate smell of sweetness overloaded his senses, and he found himself hesitantly sitting down in a booth, wringing the cloth against his knuckles in a patterned fashion.

Then you approached.

And by God, had you been the prettiest sight to see. If it were on any other day, Arvin would’ve been sure to come up with better words than asking if he had to buy anything.

That’s not how you talk to a pretty face, his father would scold in his head, y’wanna smile at ‘er, and make her feel all sorts of butterflies. Y’gotta make her feel like the only girl in the world, son.

Arvin often had his father’s coaching in his head when it came to things like this. Though, it didn’t really make sense most of the time. His father didn’t live long enough to meet Arvin in his ‘girl phase’. This was more than a phase, he promised himself, looking at your resting form. And my, had the universe been so forgiving of him, making sunlight drawing from blinds rest on your features, highlighting your skin and making you look like a pure, unadulterated angel.

He wanted you.

Arvin bit his bottom lip. He wanted you so bad. He wanted to keep you forever. He wanted to take you away from this lowly place in Ohio and bring you somewhere nice, somewhere with beaches and sunshine, away from disgusting preachers, dried blood and judgmental eyes.

Realizing the first time you went to that church, Arvin could see the way that no-good priest looked at you. He knew what that man did to Lenora. He knew everything. Arvin got up from the couch, his fists turning stark white as he paced towards the apartment door, red building at the sides of his eyes. Arvin had to protect all the girls in town. He had to. For Lenora, for Y/N. He had to go and—

“Arvin?”

Hearing a voice that reminded him of bells, Arvin turned around, seeing you slowly rise up from the couch and looking over to make contact with him. “Where are you going?”

Your sleepy tone was so amiable. Your eyes were so dazed, blinking as you gave a small sniffle, scratching at your shoulder.

“I was…” Arvin trailed off before coming back towards you, kneeling in front of the couch and giving a smile as he took your hand. “I was gonna get you breakfast. As a thank you.” A lie, but it was fine. He was planning on watching the priest. Though, breakfast didn’t sound too bad. Time with you was worth more than anything else. You were all he had, next to his grandmother and uncle.

You smiled. He melted a little inside.

“You don’t need to get me anything,” you murmured as you clutched onto his hand. Your eyes were studious, flitting around his body, and he suddenly felt small. “Are you okay? I’m sorry about the sleeping stuff… if your neck was stiff, I mean, I’d feel bad—”

“Y/N,” Arvin spoke sternly, “that was the best sleep I’ve ever had in my life.”

Your eyes turned round, diluting slightly once they met the sunlight.

Arvin could hear his father’s berating tone in the back of his head. Say it. Be a man. He looked at the ground, holding onto your hand for dear life, uneasily balancing his weight on his knee. Though, Arvin couldn’t say anything. Nothing was coming out. There you were, waiting so patiently, being so patient with him, and he was at a lack for words.

Words wouldn’t fix this. Only action. Action would fix everything, Arvin knew this. He was taught this. He was always better physically expressing his thoughts and feelings than vocally or emotionally.

Releasing one of his hands from yours, he curved one underneath your palm and pulled your soft, untouched knuckles against his lips, giving a kiss. These knuckles have never hurt a soul. This being had never hurt anyone. Arvin would make sure it would stay that way.

He glanced upwards, his cap altering his view slightly, and he could make out the way your cheeks turned a different shade, inviting lips gaping slightly.

Smiling against your skin, Arvin moved his free hand to the top of yours and gazed at you. To his surprise, he watched as your thumb rolled circles against his own. You were smiling, and it was a smile to take in. Oh, it was.

“You’re sweet, Arvin,” you giggled so beautifully and he wanted to listen to his name coming out of your mouth on repeat, “...I kinda want donuts.”

Arvin couldn’t help but give a laugh under his breath at the change of moods. He stood up, continuously holding your hand as he refused to let it go, and said, “Let’s get donuts, then.”

—

He was angry. He was a pot boiling. Staring at Preston from afar, he watched from his car as the man interacted with a female shopowner who was fresh out of highschool. Arvin’s leg bounced within his vehicle, the sun setting, and he continued to survey.

Preston would interact with girls other than his wife. He would bring girls into his car and do unspeakable, unlawful things with them, then proceed to go back to the place he calls home and force himself onto his wife.

Arvin clutched onto the wheel.

While Preston was a horrible man who deserved the worst punishment from all graces of any lord, he found himself growing frustrated. Not even just about Lenora or all the sweet innocence the man took, Arvin found himself growing frustrated at his own damn self.

He would think about Y/N.

No, not doing such acts as those forcefully, imagining the same power dynamic, he would never. He meant it when he said he didn’t hurt girls. Arvin despised the man. He despised him and he wanted him gone. He wanted that man to suffer for what he did to his sister. Though, at points, he would drive up to your apartment and stare at the window that belonged to you. He would lick his chapped lips and his hand would shake as it reached the door handle. Then, Arvin would grow a clear sense of mind, he would receive clarity, and he would drive to the opposite side of town just to avoid even thinking about touching you in such a passionate way.

After a few days, Arvin decided.

He’d have to leave you behind.

He loved you, but he also loved Lenora, and Lenora deserved justice. Arvin could hear her voice already, pleading for him to let it go. To just let the man be. To leave. Do anything else. Settle down with you somewhere far, far away, start a life, start a family. Be free.

“I ain’t ever let anything go, ‘Nora.”

The priest was dead.

Arvin’s blood rushed through his veins as the sun set on the horizon, him zooming through the city streets, eagerly approaching your apartment.

God, it was a thrill. The adrenaline coursing through his veins after watching the damned predator fall onto the church floor bleeding from his wounds was cathartic. It made Arvin’s head whirl and turn dizzy. He had no moral thoughts, he was no longer moral, no longer a man that could be forgiven. Arvin felt the rage that built up within him for years be released with three gunshots, the guilt and agony of being alone and misjudged by any person left behind within the church.

Sitting in the car and hearing the blinker click at him, he turned it off once pulling into the lot. He took off his cap, carding his fingers through his hair, debating if he was really going to let you go.

Y/N offered a future he couldn’t take. It hurt more than anything.

Arvin glanced up at your patio, seeing you move from behind the window. You were only a silhouette. You were yet to be discovered by him in this manner, this new Arvin Russell. You wouldn’t recognize him, he thought, he wouldn’t recognize you.

It would be a completely different take on his life. He was no longer himself. Was he better, or worse? Was he a criminal, or a vigilante? Arvin didn’t know what to do. It hadn’t set in yet that he was no longer only capable of beating bullies shitless. He was so much more than that. He was more.

Arvin could do anything.

It was dark out. He finally found the courage to yank open the door handle and step out of his car. He didn’t bother to lock it, he had nothing to lose.

Entering the apartment’s doors, smelling various spices of cooking or hearing children laughing from very muffled walls, Arvin found himself stomping up the steps, his heart beating against his ribs uneasily.

Staring at the room, noticing that the others around were vacant, Arvin could just about do anything. No one would know.

He clenched his fists a few times before finally knocking on the door with his knuckles. It was like the first time you two had met, his very knuckles expressing his pain and anguish, and you read onto the signs of a lonely man seeking solace. Arvin was still bruised and broken; just not in any place where you could see it.

You opened the door, and your mouth opened before closing abruptly. Arvin knew he must’ve looked like he just killed someone. Well, he did, but you didn’t know about that.

Arvin wanted you. Though, he’d be careful, you were the one delicate thing in his life. He had to treat you with care. He had to treat you so gently this night, for it would be your last with him.

Taking a step inside, he moved his hand up and cupped your cheek, moving his thumb— once holding a gun used to kill— so that it wiped gingerly beneath your bottom lip. Your jaw fidgeted slightly as you were attempting to find words. Though, your hand didn’t disagree with his actions. Instead, it met the back of his palm, planted gently on top of his own hand that held your cheek.

Confident, Arvin moved in closer and pulled you towards him, meeting your lips with his. You made a soft noise in your throat and it set Arvin’s mind on fire. Flames danced between your faces, and he felt you eagerly kiss back, your arms snaking across his shoulders as he found himself kicking the door with the back of his heel to close it shut.

Your hands found themselves on the surface of his head and pushing off his cap to knot fingers in his hair. Arvin didn’t even care. His body was burning underneath your touch as he found himself pressing you against the nearest flat surface, which was your dining room table that held a vase with hand picked flowers resting inside and a sweet floral mat keeping it level. You were so adorable, he swooned in his head, you were so precious to him and oh so good. You’re so good.

Wife material, Arvin’s head was screaming, he wanted to steal you away and marry you. You were lifted onto the mahogany table, Arvin’s tongue swiping at your bottom lip. You were so good, submitting your mouth to him, letting him roam the inside and clutch onto your hips so tightly it could bruise. Feeling your soft, untouched, blessed hands clutch onto his belt line had him push his pelvis closer to yours.

“Arvin—” you attempted, but he wouldn’t let you. No, he wouldn’t let you worry. You didn’t need to worry about anything, not with him around. He was your protector, he would keep you safe, he wouldn’t let you die or leave. He wouldn’t let you be hurt by anyone. Thinking about keeping you close to him in his arms, just this close, making you sigh from pleasure as Arvin plastered kisses down your jaw and to your neck to test the waters of what made you quiver; it was enough to drive him insane.

He found his teeth scraping at your flesh and you gasped, arching your body upwards and he felt your hips grind against his middle. It made him give out a guttural growl of need.

“Arvin, wait— wait, honey, stop—”

Arvin didn’t want to. Though, he would, just for your sake. He lifted his head up to meet yours, and once you made eye contact with him, your expression changed from flustered to concerned. Nurturing. Your hand met his cheek, your thumb gently rubbing itself underneath his eye, and he moved a hand to hold your wrist and gently kiss your palm.

Your voice was so soft, so sweet, as if you raised it any further it would blow Arvin away. “What’s going on?”

He wanted to tell you everything. You were so kind, you were everything, you were the sun and stars and sky. Nuzzling into your hand, he murmured, “Nothin’...”

“It’s clearly something if you come into my apartment and start kissing me like this, Russell,” you spoke, his last name strong in your city accent. Your voice was so stern, so dead set on uncovering him, and Arvin gazed at you, still high from revenge and loving you.

He hesitated. Arvin pinched his lips together, licking them faintly, still tasting your lip scrub on them.

Your warm hands met his burning face, handling them so sweetly. “You don’t need to give me specifics,” you started, “...just give me something, Arvin, so I know you’re in your right mind.”

Your name made his eyes flutter shut, nudging his nose against yours. “Say m’name like that again, sweet girl…”

“Arvin.” Your tone was more of a warning. It pulled him back from the sea of desire.

Arvin sighed, mumbling, “I had a revelation, darlin’…” his thumb rolled circles into your wrist, “I had a good day… ‘m a free man, Y/N. I wanna share this with you.” He opened his eyes to see you gazing at him so sweetly. “Let me have this night with you, pretty girl. I wanna make you feel as good as me. I’m sober, I promise, ‘m just intoxicated by the thought of you.”

“Such a flirt,” you whispered against his lips, and he felt himself smirking.

“Only for you.”

Your beautiful, reflective eyes stared into his. Then, they shut, and you moved your head forward to slowly encapture his lips. Arvin was more than eager to requite this. Fervor filled his loins as he clutched your thigh once it was squeezing against his side.

“Sweet baby girl,” he whispered into your ear, “Can we move this to your bed?”

—

When Arvin woke up, he had never felt more exhausted. He was hit with a newfound clarity. There was a soft gray shade leaking from the windows, and he squinted at the clock from across the room— wiping the fogginess from his eyes— and took notice that it was in the early hours of five a.m. Arvin went to move, but was barricaded by something clinging to his side.

His eyes were round as saucers as he took a hold of your nude bodies entangled.

Flushed, he quickly whipped his head back ahead, staring at the ceiling.

The confidence he had last night was almost embarrassing. Though, he licked his teeth and looked back to you, his fingers carding through your hair. Your hair was so soft to the touch, so perfect for someone like you, never missing the latest trends.

Arvin gave a hum of contentment, taking in your features in the early morning. Last night was full of unbridled desire, a fervor that the both of you had been bottling up for who knows how long. Perhaps, since that rainy day in the bakery, there had been that weird spark that compelled you both to do this.

He buried his nose in your sweet scented hair, pressing his lips against your warm forehead, hearing you shuffle and murmur under your breath. You were still very much asleep.

Taking in your sleeping face for the last time, Arvin gave a pained smile. He didn’t want to leave you at all. He wanted to keep you forever— he wanted to wake up to this every day— but he couldn’t let you become an accomplice. Arvin had to protect you.

With that, he managed to sneak his way out of your koala arms and legs and get dressed in his old clothing. Reading over the letter he wrote yesterday, Arvin felt his heart break with each word. You didn’t deserve this. You deserved better than him— someone who could keep themselves together, who wasn’t so haunted by the past. You came to this city to escape yours, and he couldn’t drag you into his. He had to escape too. Some part of him knew you would understand that with time.

Arvin had stopped by a bakery quickly, ordering a lemon and poppyseed muffin with the most bittersweet feeling, coming back to your room to see you were still dead asleep.

He placed the muffin box down on the nightstand and folded the letter so that it stood up with your name on a proud display. Arvin’s hand wringed its way through his hair before he stared at his ragged blue cap for a moment, placing it alongside the muffin and letter.

Arvin leaned down to kiss you on the lips briefly, you giving a sleepy hum, pursuing your lips lazily before drifting unconscious again. He noticed that the sun was just rising.

The sunset brought a bit of hope. He watched you sleep for a bit, the purple turning into a golden on your features, before he made his exit.

—

Your body felt like jello. Giving a groan, your hands scavenged the sheets for the warm body that accompanied you that night, but you were left with a cold absence. Cracking your eyes open and grunting at the shine of the sun, the clock spoke nine a.m, and you were surprised Arvin was not with you.

You licked your lips and sat up. Stretching your spine, you noticed you were nude and blushed, pulling the sheets up your chest. “Arvin?” You called, noticing the lack of your friend— lover? Boyfriend? Friend with benefits?— and gave a long exhale. Luckily you had the day off, as convenient as that was.

Looking over, you noticed the hat, muffin box, and letter. Your name was in bold pencil, and you tilted your head curiously before leaning over and peering through the plastic cover. You smiled and saw the dark spots of poppyseeds on the treat. It was sentimental, and your heart nearly burst.

Gazing at the hat, you were inquiring if he just managed to leave it behind.

You decided to take the letter, opening it up and not preparing for what you’d read.

Y/N,

You’re probably wondering where I am right now. I am too. If you asked me right now, I wouldn’t be able to give you an answer.

I did something that can’t be forgiven. Maybe not by the Lord, definitely not by law, uncertain by you. I don’t want you to worry. I’m safe. I can’t come back. I can’t give you a number or address. I don’t know where I’m going, I don’t know who I will be.

The world ain’t been kind. I know it ain’t been kind to you either. I don’t want to make things even worse for you, sweet girl. You’re everything I didn’t deserve. You said to me a long time ago that I deserve good, but I don’t. You are such a good girl, so much so I can’t have you. A part of me wants to be selfish and keep you. I know I can’t. I can’t do that to you.

You’re gonna hear about that preacher man. You’re gonna hear things about me, probably. I just want you to know I did it because I had to. You need to know that. I couldn’t be alive knowing Lenora wasn’t and he was. I’m sorry, baby.

I’m sorry for leaving you. I don’t want to. There’s nothing I want more than for you to be with me right now, pretty girl. I’d give everything just to see you every morning, every afternoon, every night. Ever since that day where you forgave me for the first time for my sins, smoking and drinking black coffee, I know what else I could fight for. I know what I could have just for myself. The sad part is, God is a sadist, and he won’t let me have you.

You asked me if I like Puppy Love, and I do. I’m listening to music for once as I write this, and I understand all the stuff they cry about on the radio. I know what it means to love. My heart ain’t ever been this broke before, sweetheart. 

I love you, Y/N.

As I said, we’ll be seeing each other again. Look out for postcards from my initials.

A.R.

When you finished, wet spots had been dotting the paper, and the last two initials were the final nail in the coffin. You let out a choked sob, leaning over to clutch onto the paper close to your chest. You collapsed onto the sheets, weeping, unable to comprehend. You kept asking why, why, why, even though it was right in front of you.

You flipped the page, noting the sweet lyrics on the back.

I cry each night, my tears are for you, my tears are all in vain, I hope, I hope and I pray, that maybe someday, you’ll be back in my arms once again.

Sniffling and wiping at your nose, you gave a few sobs, pressing your palm against your damp cheeks until they turned red.

You folded the paper and placed it back on your nightstand, curling in on yourself, clutching your sheets that still had Arvin’s presence lingering on them. Pressing them against your wet, hot face, you gave a few soft wheezes.

How could you tell Arvin you loved him, too? How could you write back to him? How could you sleep at night, not knowing he was okay? That there was no way you could tell him you’d wait forever for him?

You must’ve managed to doze off, as the sun was no longer as golden as before. The skies were a clear blue, and you managed to tug on tolerable clothes. Standing on your patio, you clutched the metal railings, staring down at the town with dismay. He was no longer here. This town no longer held that charming spark that you’d learn to love.

Walking back inside, you gazed at the letter, muffin, and hat. Leaning over, you grabbed the blue cap and rubbed your thumbs against the torn fabric, pressing the lid against your lips and kissing it. At least you had this— something you rarely saw him without. He gave you this, and your heart soared at the thought. Placing it on the top of your head, you took the lemon and poppyseed muffin and headed towards McCann Boys.

Marilyn perked at your presence, speaking, “Sweetpea, it’s not your workday.”

“I’m here as a guest,” you murmured, gazing at her, and Marilyn’s eyebrows rose at your expression. She gave a sorry nod at you, continuing to swipe down the counters.

You sat in the booth you and Arvin met at, and you took your seat, gazing at the ashtray emptily. Picking at the muffin, you fixed your cap to hide your face.

The radio near the coffee player began to sing. Your heart dropped, and you recalled the oh-so familiar lyrics.

...This is not a puppy love.

[jeonsjiddies]

animals (m) | jhs

Summary-  after four years, you run into your ex Hoseok e2l

rating- explicit / 18+

word count-  5k

pairing- hoseok x reader

genre- smut

Warnings-  a little angst, oral (m and f recieving) , road head, car sex, not really edging but like, teasing?, exhibitionism if you squint?

A/N: I got the idea from Animals by Nickelback, so I’ve inserted some of the lyrics that go along with the story, accompanied by “🎶” <3 

🎶🎶🎶 I got this feeling in my veins this train is coming off the track. I'll ask polite if the devil needs a ride, because the angel on my right ain't hanging out with me tonight. 🎶🎶🎶

*four years ago*

“Y/N!” 

 You turned towards the sound of your favorite voice, a grin spreading across your features when his bright eyes met yours. 

 “Good morning, baby.” you giggled as Hoseok wrapped his arms around you and spun you around, holding you close to his chest.

 “Good morning, beautiful!” he smiled, leaning down to place his soft lips on your own.

 You hummed in appreciation, arms entangling themselves around his neck so that you could card your fingers through his silky hair. You felt him grin against your lips before he started peppering small kisses all over your face. You squealed and tried to dodge his antics, though you didn’t really want him to stop.

 “Hobiiiii.” you whined but couldn’t wipe the smile off your features.

 “Don’t pretend you don’t love it.” he chuckled, opting to sling an arm around your shoulders instead.

 One of your favorite things about your boyfriend was how affectionate he was. Whether it was cuddles, kisses, or gentle brushes of his skin across yours, Hoseok had to be touching you at all times. Almost like if he wasn’t holding onto you, you’d disappear. His gentle caresses always made you feel safe, wanted, comforted. 

 “Hoseok!” another familiar voice ripped you from your internal monologue and an arm appeared around Hoseok’s shoulders as Jimin joined the two of you.

 “What’s up, Jiminie?” Hoseok grinned, messing up Jimin’s perfectly styled hair.

 “I told you not to call me that.” Jimin huffed, fixing his hair.

 “When have you ever known me to follow directions?” Hoseok laughed.

 “True. Speaking of…” Jimin grinned, stepping in front of the two of you and walking backwards, ensuring he had Hoseok’s full attention, “Have you thought about the Senior prank?”

 Hoseok threw his head back in laughter, making your stomach flutter and your chest fill with warmth.

 “I have it narrowed down. Setting 4 pigs loose, numbered 1, 2, and 4 and watch them look for pig #3. Or… we could dress the statue in the courtyard up in drag?” Hoseok grinned evilly.

 “I love your mischievous little brain.” Jimin grinned.

 “Hobi… aren’t you already on academic probation for sneaking into the principal’s office and covering everything in post-its?” you asked warily.

 “Technically…” he trailed off.

 Hoseok was the sweetest, most caring boyfriend in the world. However, he was a terrible student. He was smart, too smart. He got bored and that’s when his gears started spinning. Hoseok loved being the center of attention, especially if it got a good laugh out of everyone. This got him in more trouble than he should’ve been getting into, and you knew he was on thin ice with the administrative office already.

“Please be careful, baby. This is your senior year, you’re almost out of here. Please don’t get in trouble and jeopardize that…” you sighed.

 “Y/N, it’ll be fine! I won’t get caught. Plus, don’t you want to see the look on their faces? We’ll go down in history as the greatest Senior class ever!” he grinned with excitement, making you shake your head and smile. 

 What could possibly go wrong?

 That’s how you found yourself, dressed in all black, playing lookout while Hoseok, Jimin, and the rest of your gang snuck into the school a few nights later. They crept through the halls to get to the cafeteria, which was lined with beautiful glass walls that led to a courtyard in the middle, where there was a large statue depicting the very first principal of your small high school.

 You could tell who was who even though they had masks covering their faces so that if the school checked the security tapes, they wouldn’t be identified. Hoseok led the group, of course, he was the most impulsive and the most excited to play the prank. They set the shopping bags on the ground and got to work. 

The boys started dressing the statue in women’s lingerie, stuffing the bra with pads (that they’d drawn nipples on). They had an awful, tacky wig they added to the statue, and added bright red lipstick to the stone lips. Hoseok glued a dildo to one of the hands, and you rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop laughing. 

There was a loud clang from the doors and you froze. Your head whipped to the direction the noise came from and you saw the light of a flashlight coming down the hallway. You tried to silently wave down your friends, but they were too busy putting a ridiculous amount of blush on the cheeks of the statue. 

“Guys!” you whisper-yelled, but when they couldn’t hear you, and the light was getting closer, you had to give up and scream. “RUN! SOMEONE’S HERE!”

All the boys froze, then took off in opposite directions. A voice boomed from the hallway after your outburst and the flashlight pointed right into your eyes, momentarily stunning you. A hand grabbed yours and dragged you out of your spot you were rooted to in your haze. You let Hoseok lead you away, running as fast as you could to keep up. 

“Stop!” screamed the voice behind you, and you didn’t dare look back for fear of tripping or worse, finding the police officer chasing you had caught up. 

You spotted Jimin up ahead, and not even two seconds after you spotted his figure, he tripped and fell. You flinched and Hoseok stiffened as pained groans left Jimin’s lips. 

“Go get the car. If I’m not there in two minutes, leave without us. Okay?” Hoseok held your shoulders, looking more serious than you’d ever seen him.He pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“Hobi-” you began.

He shoved the keys into your hands and took off towards Jimin. You watched him go for a moment before sprinting towards the door and towards his car. You threw yourself into the driver’s seat, your entire body shaking with adrenaline. Your fingers shook trying to shove the keys into the ignition, and you started it up, waiting outside the door you’d exited, watching for Hoseok and Jimin. 

Two minutes passed. Three. Five. You heard police sirens in the distance.  Your whole body went cold, you glanced back at the door, begging Hoseok to come bursting out with a victorious grin plastered on his handsome face, but there was no movement. The sirens got closer, and you began to panic. If you stayed, you could be arrested. Expelled. You could kiss your dream college goodbye. But could you leave Hobi and Jimin? He did say two minutes… and there wasn’t much you could do if they were already caught.  When the sirens turned into flashing blue and red lights, you knew you had to go. 

You didn’t sleep that night, wracked by guilt. You wished you had talked him out of the stupid prank, though you knew you couldn’t have changed his mind. Hoseok was stubborn, and he wanted the last laugh. You sighed, glancing at your phone every two seconds. You didn’t hear from Hoseok that night. 

The next morning, you found him waiting outside the principal’s office. You ran up to him and flung yourself into his arms. He held you against his body, inhaling deeply to surround himself in you. 

“Are you okay? What happened? Why didn’t you call me back?” you fired off all the questions without giving him a chance to respond.

“We got caught, they took us to jail, just for holding don’t worry, they made our parents come get us. My parents took my phone, that’s why I couldn’t call you.” he sighed. “They took the lingerie off the statue too.”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” you narrowed your eyes at him.

“I got caught for nothing.” he laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

You sighed, curling yourself into him until the front office secretary cleared her throat.

“Mr. Jung, the principal will see you now.” she spoke. 

Hoseok was suspended through the end of the year. He was allowed to graduate (if only so the school statistics didn’t drop) but wasn’t allowed to walk at graduation. Jimin got a similar punishment, but was allowed to walk since he didn’t have quite as many points against him. He did however, have to serve detention and help the janitor clean the school during that time. 

Hoseok didn’t even frown, just accepted what happened with a smile and a poorly-timed joke. His positivity helped those around him to feel a little better about his situation, but you were gutted.

Hoseok broke up with you three days later.

“Hobi please don’t do this.” you begged through your sobs, your body shaking as the tears freely fell down your face. Unlike every other time he’d seen you cry, Hoseok didn’t wipe them away.

“Y/N, you’re going to college across the country… I’m not. Long distance is hard. I don’t want to hold you back.” he sighed as you clung to his shirt for dear life.

“You won’t hold me back. Please, I’ll come visit every weekend or you can fly out to me. We can video chat every night, I’ll do anything Hobi please.” you sobbed.

“How do you expect to make friends if you’re constantly running back and forth to see me?” he reasoned with you. 

“I don’t need friends. I need you.” you cried.

“You’re going to make something with yourself, Y/N. You don’t need me. You are strong, smart, competent… You’re going to be okay. I promise.” he said softly, peeling your hands gently from their death grip on his collar. “I’m sorry…” he trailed off.

If you hadn’t been so consumed in your own grief, falling in a heap on the floor of your bedroom, you might’ve noticed the way his ever present smile fell from his face, replaced with a broken, hollow look. You might have noticed the way he hesitated, reaching out for you before pausing and pulling back. You might have noticed the single tear streaming down his face before he turned away and walked out of your life.

*present*

You dropped your duffel bag on the bed of your childhood bedroom, flopping yourself onto the freshly washed sheets your mom had prepared for your visit. You’d avoided your hometown like the plague for the entirety of your college career. You’d left immediately after graduation, avoiding Hoseok or anyone who would ask you about him. You were completely heartbroken and needed a fresh start.

It had taken a few months to get to your new normal, and over the past few years, the pain had dulled from a roaring fire to flickering embers. You still thought of him from time to time, you could never truly forget him, but after four years you weren’t as hung up on him as you had been. 

So you finally came home to visit after graduating college with your hard earned degree. Your parents had been over the moon, finally free of the hotel rooms they had to stay in to visit you, and your slightly unsavory roommate. Aromas of your favorite food wafted through the vents and made your mouth water. You couldn’t wait to taste your mom’s cooking again.

“Y/N!” your mom smiled as you walked into the kitchen. 

“Need help?” you asked. 

“Actually, we’re out of butter and you know how your dad won’t eat his rolls without it. Could you pop by the store and grab some?” she pleaded.

“Sure. Anything else?” you wondered.

“No. Thank you babydoll.” your mom smiled, reaching for her purse but you waved her off.

You drove to the store and found the butter, and debated grabbing a bottle of wine to enjoy with dinner. You walked to the liquor aisle and froze in place, hiding behind the end-cap. Stood in front of the whiskey was a familiar head of soft black hair. There was no way it was Hoseok, right? You’d heard he’d moved out of town! 

You covered your face with a magazine you grabbed off the shelf and crept forward, trying to get a better look at the man staring thoughtfully at the whiskey selection. Too busy staring at his calves and how they looked eerily familiar, but also a tad more muscular, you accidentally lowered your shield, and jumped when a voice you could never forget spoke your name for the first time in four years.

“Y/N? Is that you?” he grinned, setting the whiskey down and turning, placing his full attention on you. 

Your breath left your lungs when your eyes met his, the familiar depths of them pulling you in just like they had all those years ago. His plush lips quirked up into a smile, displaying his perfectly straight teeth.Your gaze traveled over his chest, more defined and much broader than you remembered it. His thighs were certainly thicker, and his calves had indeed gained muscle. You ripped your gaze back up to his face, where he had a satisfied smile.

“Hoseok.” you greeted uncomfortably, annoyed with the fact that you could already feel dampness pooling in your underwear.

“How have you been? Did you just get back in town?” he questioned, leaning against the shelf and looking far too good while doing so.

“Yeah, I just graduated college. How have you been?” you asked, eyeing the wine display like it was to blame.

“Good. I’m staying with my parents while I finish building my house.” he explained, and you nodded.

“Ah, that’s nice.” you smiled.

“Yeah. Well, I don’t want to take up your time, but I would love to catch up. Would you be free for coffee sometime?” he tilted his head as he asked the question, one of the things you used to find so adorable you wanted to throw up. It still had the same effect.

“Uh… sure.” you agreed warily.

“Give me your phone, I’ll put my number in.” he reached out.

You handed him the device, captivated by the veins running up his forearms as he typed his number in. He handed it back to you, fingers brushing in the process, sending a jolt of electricity through your entire body. You looked up at him in shock and he seemed taken aback as well. Your eyes met and you both froze for a moment before he cleared his throat and sent you a pained smile and a “see you later.”

A few days later, you received a text from Hoseok. Apparently he had texted himself from your phone whilst putting his number in. You gasped and threw your phone when you saw the name pop up, and your father sent you a strange look from his recliner.

“Sorry, one of those pop-up spider videos.” you chuckled nervously, picking the phone back up and reading the message.

Hobi [[3:16 pm]] Hey! Are you free for coffee today?

You stared at the screen, contemplating your options. Should you meet up with him? Four years had passed, surely you could both be mature adults and get along. Before anything ever went down between the two of you, Hoseok was your very best friend. Despite the fact that he broke your heart, you really did miss his company. Could the two of you be friends again? Or would old feelings bubble up to the surface and undo all the months of work you’d spent picking up the pieces of your shattered, lonely heart?

You [[3:20 pm.]] Sure. Four sound okay?

Hobi [[3:25pm.]] Yep, see you then! 

You scrambled up to your room and started digging through your clothes, desperate to find something that both made you look amazing, but didn’t make it look like you were trying to look amazing. You mentally kicked yourself for putting so much thought into it, as Hoseok had already seen you with no makeup and no effort at the store the other night. You shrugged off the thought, pulling on your clothes and putting on simple makeup, just enough to hide your redness and under eye bags. 

You bid your parents a goodbye, your mom asleep on the couch and your dad offering a disinterested wave as you exited the front door. Your small town only had one coffee shop and it wasn’t far away so you decided to walk and give yourself some time to calm down before having to face Hoseok after all these years. Your short encounter in the liquor aisle was enough to rattle you, and you weren’t sure you could handle being face to face with him, all of his attention on you. 

Did he still take his coffee the same way? Did he still make obnoxious jokes? Did his laughter still light up the room? Was his smile still as infectious? Did he still smell like home? You shook your head and opened the door to the small coffee shop, an excited Hoseok lifting his head and waving you over, pearly white teeth on full display. He stood up and enveloped you in a warm hug. His fluffy sweater pressed against your skin was soft and inviting, and he smelled like cinnamon. You stiffened at the action, but soon found yourself melting into his embrace. He pulled back and held onto your shoulders while surveying your face.

“Your hair is longer! You look so grown up. It’s been so long!” he grinned, his appraisal of you stopping when his eyes met yours and a soft smile graced the curve of his lips.

“You grew up too. Have you spent the whole time in the gym? Geez Hobi.” you giggled, conversation easily flowing.

Sitting across from Hoseok, you watched his face light up with that contagious bubbling laughter and it felt like no time had passed, like your best friend had never left you, like everything was back to normal. You felt more at ease than you thought you might have after everything that had gone down between the two of you, but being around Hoseok, basking in his light… it felt right.

“I do a lot of manual labor for work, so I’ve bulked up a little since high school. I didn’t think it was that noticeable.” he trailed off, a light blush dusting the apples of his cheeks. 

“Well, you look great.” you smiled, a little awkwardly.

“So do you! How was university? Did you major in creative writing like you wanted?” he asked, resting his head on his hand and watching you with curiosity.

“I did. I actually double-majored in creative writing and business management.” you explained, a smile adorning your features. 

You couldn’t help yourself. Hoseok just radiated positivity, even after all this time, and being around him was an instant mood boost. 

“What about you? What do you do now?” you wondered, “You said manual labor?”

“I own a construction company.” he grinned proudly, “I think I told you that I was staying with my parents while I had my house built, right? My team is building it, we just got the framework done yesterday actually.” 

“Hobi, that’s so cool!” you praised him, the nickname rolling off your tongue out of habit.

The two of you spent hours tucked away in the quiet corner of that coffee shop, talking and laughing and reminiscing together even as the sun dipped low into the horizon and slowly disappeared, allowing the stars to appear and take its place, illuminating the night sky. You were lost in Hoseok’s eyes and he seemed to be drowning in yours just as much. Neither of you noticed the apprehensive young employee who walked up to the table to inform you they were closing. You jumped back, startled out of your little haze you’d been in. 

She apologized profusely but you’d just giggled and shrugged it off, telling her it was fine. Hoseok grinned at you.

“You’re still so jumpy. You haven’t changed at all.” he chuckled.

“Neither have you. Still bullying me.” you stuck your tongue out, following him as he held the door open for you.

“Where did you park? I’ll walk you to your car.” he smiled.

“I walked here, it’s okay.” you shrugged.

“Oh, there is no way I’m letting you walk home alone in the dark.” he tsked, grabbing your hand gently and leading you over to his car. 

Your skin tingled where it met his, shooting sparks of arousal straight down to your core. Hoseok let go of your hand and cleared his throat, his eyes searching yours for something. You bit your lip nervously at his intense gaze which caused a distressed groan to pour from his lips.

“You still drive me crazy when you do that…” he whispered, almost like he didn’t intend for you to hear it.

“Hobi.” you breathed, air leaving your lungs at his admission. 

His eyes snapped up to yours and both of you seemed to move in slow motion. He stepped closer to you tentatively, his fingers gently brushing your cheek as he cupped it in his large, calloused hand. Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling, your breath coming out in shaky exhales. You opened your eyes and gazed into his as he slowly leaned forward, giving you time to stop him. When you made no move to do so, he pressed his lips gently to yours.

Suddenly, wildfire seemed to break out between your bodies as Hoseok moved forward and caged your body between the car and his own, fingers carding themselves into your hair. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, your tongue sliding across his bottom lip and he deepened the kiss, letting his wet muscle explore your mouth as he’d done so often all those years ago. 

He brought your bottom lip between his teeth and nibbled on it, earning a low whine from you. A low sound emitted from the back of his throat and he moved his assault to your jaw, moving down to your neck, licking, biting, and sucking on the skin until red-purple marks dotted your skin. Hoseok had always been skilled with his mouth, but damn he’d gotten better over time. You wondered if he’d gotten better in other areas as well… What was the saying? Aged like fine wine?

He rocked his hips into yours, letting you feel exactly what you were doing to him. You moaned quietly, letting your head fall to the side to give him more access to the spanse of your neck and chest.  His kisses grew hungrier and soon he was pulling away, panting as he stared into your eyes.

“Need you.” it came out as almost a growl, the carnal need apparent in his lust-darkened eyes.

“Take me.” you whispered, your voice as sultry as you could manage.

“Fuck. Where though? We’re both staying with family.” he groaned, letting his forehead meet the glass of the vehicle beside yours.

You deflated for a moment, thinking neither of you would be able to act on your desire, as the closest motel was at least an hour away. You perked up as an idea popped into your mind.

“Does anyone ever go to that cliff by the old railroad tracks anymore?” you asked him.

Back in high school, you’d both go out by the railroad tracks and sit on the cliff by the willow tree and watch the sunset over the skyline of your small town, wrapped up in each other's arms. Soon, the railroad tracks had stopped functioning and your town didn’t see the need to repair them, just halting the trains that came through altogether in favor of semi trucks instead. 

“I don’t think so.” he answered, looking at you with confusion.

“Your backseat looks pretty roomy…” you trailed off suggestively, a smirk finding its way onto your kiss-swollen lips.

Hoseok didn’t miss a beat, tugging you over to the passenger seat and opening your door like a gentleman, slapping your ass playfully as you entered his car. You squeaked in surprise and he only smirked in response, returning to the driver’s side and taking off towards the old abandoned railroad tracks on the other end of town. 

🎶🎶🎶You’re beside me on the seat, got your hand between my knees and you control how fast we go by just how hard you want to squeeze.🎶🎶🎶

You loved Hoseok at every angle, but one of your favorites had to be his profile, the sharp edges of that jaw just did things to you. Your eyes wandered over his face down his arms, the veins dancing their way up to his large hands. You licked your lips, he looked so sexy driving. You let your hand trail slowly over the center console onto his thigh, rubbing seemingly innocent circles along his jean-covered flesh. Hoseok’s eyes trailed over to you for a moment and you only smiled.

He focused back on the road and your hand trailed farther in, brushing over his clothed length. You palmed him through his jeans and his hips jerked at the action, his alarm causing him to swerve slightly. 

“Y/N.” he voiced a warning.

“Yes?” you giggled.

“I really want to fuck you, but we have to be alive to do that.” he hissed, with no real venom.

“So don’t crash.” you shrugged.

“You’re making it kind of difficult to concentrate.” he shot back.

“Oh?” you grinned mischievously, popping open the button on his jeans and slipping your hand under the waistband of his boxers.

“Oh fuck.” he groaned as you wrapped your hand around his velvety length, swiping your thumb over the tip to gather the precum that had spilled from it.

You leaned down and let your tongue swipe at the path your thumb had just followed and Hoseok shivere, tightening his grip on the wheel. You licked a stripe from his tip down his shaft as far as you could reach in your current position, then took him in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down, allowing your tongue to circle his tip each time you moved back up. Hoseok’s knuckles had turned white with the amount of force he was gripping the wheel with, fighting the desire to grab your hair and use your mouth the way he so desperately wanted to. 

It took every bit of Hoseok’s willpower not to crash the car, fighting as hard as he could to keep his attention on the road and not on the way your mouth felt wrapped around his throbbing member. He thanked his lucky stars as he saw the cliff come into view. He threw the car into park and scooted his seat back so he could watch you work your magic on him. He was seconds away from losing it, which you could tell by the clenching and unclenching of his abdomen and thighs. 

“Fuck, just like that baby, I’m so close…” he moaned, head thrown back and eyes shut. 

You relaxed your throat, breathing through your nose and took him even deeper. When Hoseok hit the back of your throat, he was done for, shooting streams of warm cum down your esophagus. You swallowed it all and sat up, licking your lips seductively. Hoseok was panting, sweat dripping down his face and he laughed, pulling you closer and crashing his lips into your own.

“I’ve missed that filthy mouth of yours.” he purred. “Almost as much as I’ve missed that pretty cunt.” 

His hands trailed up your thigh and under your skirt, brushing his fingers over your panty-covered slit. 

“So wet already and I’ve barely touched you.” he mused. 

“Please. Hobi.” you whined, bucking your hips into his touch as his hot breath fanned over your ear.

“Mmm.. I don’t know, you’ve been a very bad girl…” he teased.

“Don’t act like you didn’t just have the time of your life.” you shot back.

“True.” he shrugged. “Get in the back.”

You obeyed immediately, climbing over the seat and giving him a (mostly) unintentional view of your ass in your lacy panties as you did. He swatted at your ass before joining you in the backseat.Your back up against the door, legs spread for him, Hoseok made himself comfortable between your parted thighs. 

You watched with avid attention as Hoseok began kissing up your exposed flesh, starting at your ankles and moving tortuously slow up to the apex of your thighs, giving you slit little teasing licks. You groaned at his teasing, shooting him a glare.

“Patience, baby.” he laughed. 

“Jung Hoseok, I swear if you don’t-OH.” you gasped as he pushed your ruined panties to the side and dove into your heat like a man starved, sucking and licking at your swollen clit like it was the last thing he’d ever do. 

Using your throbbing bud as a distraction, Hoseok worked two fingers into your hole, moving them into a come-hither motion against your g-spot. 

“Fuck, Hobi, right there!” you whined, bucking your hips up to meet his tongue as it circled around your nub and he added a third finger, thrusting them in and out of you vigorously as you careeneed closer to the edge. 

“You’re doing so good for me baby, come on, cum for me.” Hoseok purred, bending down and giving a harsh suck to your clit, grazing the sensitive bud with his teeth.

Your orgasm crashed over you, your moans filled the small space as you cried out his name over and over while he worked you through your high. Panting and sweaty, your whole body fell lax against the backseat of his car and he chuckled, moving up to kiss you. 

Hoseok wrapped you up in his arms, holding you close to his chest, which was rapidly rising and falling after the intense physical exertion. 

“Holy shit.” you giggled, completely spent and satiated. 

“Yeah… Y/N, I know it’s been a while and we should probably talk, but… I miss you. Things are different now. Do you think… maybe… we could try again?” Hoseok asked, chewing on his bottom lip nervously.

You smiled up at him and nodded, allowing a finger to gently trail down his arm. “I miss you too, Hobi. I’m willing to try if you ar- what’s that?” you shot up from his arms, clutching his discarded shirt to your chest.

🎶🎶🎶 We were parked out by the tracks. We're sitting in the back and we just started getting busy when she whispered what was that? The wind, I think 'cause no one else knows where we are, and that was when she started screamin' that's my dad outside the car. Oh please, the keys, they're not in the ignition. Must have wound up on the floor while we were switching our positions. I guess they knew that she was missing as I tried to tell her dad it was her mouth that I was kissing. 🎶🎶🎶

Hoseok sat up too, just in time for a flashlight to be shone directly into your eyes, momentarily blinding both of you.

“We found her.” you heard a man say into his radio which beeped after he’d let go of the button.

“Y/N Y/L/N!” you heard your father shriek in disbelief.

“Oh shit.” Hoseok breathed.

🎶🎶🎶 Look at the trouble we’re in. We’re just a couple animals. 🎶🎶🎶

[danielleslegacy]

Soulmates || Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

MASTERLIST

Request: yes / no (but they are open always)

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Summary: Just a wedding fic, that no one asked for bahaha, but yes, wedding. 

Word Count: 2,404

Warnings: it is just fluff that is all, its tooth-rotting, you’ve been warned.

Pairing: fem!Reader insert x Spencer Reid

All writing is my own, so please don’t steal this. Also, I would appreciate any feedback/comments/requests! xx

*GIF IS NOT MINE SO CREDIT GOES TO THE OWNER*

I smooth my hands down the front of the laced front of my dress, casting my eyes back up to the mirror in front of me. Makeup done in such a beautiful way that my eyes pop, the soft blush that lays on my cheeks making me seem younger and more innocent than I am. Behind me I notice people walking into my dressing room. 

“Oh Y/n,” the voice of one Emily Prentiss says, causing me to turn to face her, “You look absolutely gorgeous.” 

My eyes flash over the girls quickly, their beautiful dresses, similar but not the same, adorning their bodies. My eyes fill with tears as I let out a soft laugh. “Thank you Em.” 

“That boy is going to die watching you walk down the aisle in that,” Penelope gushes, her own voice thick with unshed tears. The group lets out a laugh. 

“Thank you for being here,” I say, reaching my hands out to hold the sides on JJ and Penelope, as they are standing on the outside of Emily, “I just wish my parents were here too, you know?”

The girls nod, “They are here, Y/n, they’re always with you.” JJ says, giving my arm and encouraging squeeze. 

“Alright no crying missy, we’ve got a wedding to do,” Eemily says offering me a tissue, which I take and dab underneath my eyes softly. I let out a breath and turn back to the mirror, admiring my dress one last time, with a firm nod of my head, I turn to the dresser and pick up a bracelet. 

“I need some help with this part,” I confess, holding out the bracelet and my wrist to the girls, JJ takes it and clasps it. A multitude of pendants hang off it, each one for a different person in my life. 

“It’s beautiful, was it from boy wonder?” Penelope asks, obviously catching onto one of the charms on the bracelet, a silver book, it was tiny but it was there. 

I nod my head, a smile coming to my lips, “A wedding present, you guys are on here too.” I say gesturing to the four leaf clover. “The whole team is on here,” a small set of handcuffs on the other side of the clover, a reference to our job. “Mum and Dad too,” I say, finally pointing to the two angels. 

A soft knock at the door frame draws us out of our bubble, “Sorry to interrupt ladies, but it's time,” Hotch’s face is painted with guilt at having to pull us away. A wave of anxiety rushes over me, but it’s gone almost as quickly as it came, and it’s replaced by pure excitement, excitement at the fact that it’s finally time to marry my soulmate. 

The girls slip out the door sending words of encouragement, and waves as they exited. 

“How do I look, boss?” I ask doing a twirl for Hotch, my dress spiraling around me. I stop back to face him and he has a wide, proud, grin on his face. He gives me a nod in response.

“You ready?” He asks, extending a hand out towards me, which I take readily. 

“Yes,” I put simply, it was an easy answer because yes, i am ready to marry Spencer, i am ready to start the rest of my life with the person that i cannot live without. We walk down a hallway in Rossi’s house and just before we walk out and into the garden, we stop. Rossi had offered his house as the venue once again, as it was practically assumed that after JJ’s wedding to Will that Spencer and I would inevitably marry here too. I’m not in view of the group yet, but I can see the garden, lit up in beautiful lights, and a few seats scattered around the yard. Lanterns litter the grass, like the scene from Tangled. A fairytale coming to life. 

The music begins, a classical wedding march, a giggle erupting from my chest. “In a few minutes I’m going to be married, Hotch,” I say as he opens the door for us to walk out of. 

“Yes, yes you are Y/n.”

We step out on the lawn and I feel everyone's eyes on me, but my eyes are only focused on the end of the aisle, only on Spencer. His beautiful all black suit makes him appear even taller than normal, and his hair is styled to perfection. His eyes shine with tears, and in that moment my refill again. I continue walking, my smile staying spread across my lips, and when I eventually meet the end of the isle, I give Hotch a kiss on the cheek. 

“Thank you Aaron,” I say softly. The kiss is returned and he places my hand in Spencer’s. 

“You have something truly magical,” He says, taking a step back to join the rest of our team. No, our family. For the first time I looked over all of their faces, all red and tear filled. 

From beside me Rossi clears his throat, “Welcome, Welcome everybody, we are all here today to celebrate the union of two beautiful people.”

My eyes gather with tears and I flick them up to Spencer’s, his own filled too. I squeeze his hands, my excitement evident on my face. 

“We have all watched these two souls find one another against all odds. I’m sure Spencer could tell you the odds of their meeting, and I asked him once, and he told me that day that it’s a 1 in 10,000 chance that he would meet his soulmate. To which I followed up by asking him, and she’s the one right, kid? The boy just nodded his head. Later that same week I asked Y/n if she believed in soulmates,” He lets out a little chuckle, “See what I did there? She didn’t really answer me, but she did look over at the doctor and smiled. I knew what she meant by that. I am by no means an expert on marriage or soulmates.” 

“Ain't that a fact,” Derek mutters from the small group, referencing the italian’s multiple divorces and we erupt into a fit of laughter. My shoulders shake with laughter and tears fall down my cheeks. Spencer’s eyes focus only on me, his own shining with tears, and I can tell that he knows that this is a memory that he will be looking over for years to come. His fingers dance along my wrists and connect with the bracelet. 

“What are you gonna do?” Rossi continues with a shrug once the group is quiet,”But as I was saying. I am no expert, but you don’t need to be to know that these two souls were made for one another. They share this deep and beautiful understanding of one another, their differences and similarities. The two truly complete one another. I am so lucky to have been able to watch your love blossom from an awkward mutual pining to what I see before me today. I am also honored to be able to marry you to one another. So without further ado, let’s get to the important part. You have both prepared vows, Y/n, you first.” 

I nod my head excitedly, my smile widening as if that was even possible, “So like Rossi, I also asked you the odds of us meeting, and I got the same answer. Only, I asked you after our first date, we had probably known each other for six months at that point, eating ice cream in my apartment while watching Hercules. And it was that day that I fell for you. You couldn’t just sit and watch the movie, you kept telling me facts about ancient greece and greeks gods and goddesses, and I knew that I only wanted to experience movies with you being able to tell me about them.” His eyes twinkle and a tear slips down his cheek, I raise my hand up to wipe it away, “That night I called my mum, and i told her that I had met the man I was going to marry,” My voice catches in my throat, “I told her all about you and how you made me feel and she told my dad, and they both instantly loved you, because i was happy and excited.” 

His finger toys with the bracelet on my wrist, tears streaking his face. “And Spence, if they had met you, I know that they would be all about me marrying you. So my vow to you is to always love and savour every moment we have together, and to never go to sleep angry, and to listen to you always. I also promise to take care of you and to love you forever.” 

Spencer unlinks a hand from mine holding up his pinky to which I link mine around it, letting out a watery laugh.

Tears fall from my eyes, when Spencer begins his own vows. 

“I am a man of science and logic and numbers and facts.” He begins, “When you start falling in love, your brain releases chemicals like vasopressin, adrenaline, dopamine, and oxytocin that light up your neural receptors and make you feel both pleasure and a euphoric sense of purpose. That’s the facts of what love is. And before you, that was an easy enough understanding. I had thought I knew what love felt like. But falling in love with you was unlike anything I have ever experienced before in my entire life. And it took me so incredibly long to figure out why. It’s because all logic went out the window. My first and last thought every day was of you, I worried about you constantly and I could not figure out why. But then I noticed that I just wanted to be around you all the time and I didn't want you away from me. And then I got it. Love, this was falling in love. All those other times in my life where i thought i was experiencing love were test drives in comparison to falling in love with you. So today I vow to you, to continually throw logic away and to love you with all of my being for as long as life permits it. And if the Buddists are right, then the meeting was actually 500 years in the making, and I promise to you that in 500 years I will find you again.”

“Oh Spence,” I whisper to no one by him, reaching up to try to wipe the tears off my cheeks. 

“This ceremony will not create a relationship that does not already exist between you. It is a symbol of how far you have come in these past few years. It is a symbol of the promises you will make to each other and continue growing stronger as individuals and as partners. No matter what challenges you face, no matter how much you succeed, you now succeed together. The love between you joins you now as one. Now for the exchanging of rings,” Rossi states, handing us each other's rings. 

"Y/n, I give you this ring as a symbol of my love. As it encircles your finger, may it remind you always that you are surrounded by my enduring love," Spencer says softly, slipping it onto my fourth finger. 

"I give you this ring as a symbol of my love, my faith in our strength together, and my covenant to learn and grow with you,” I reply, sliding the plain gold band onto his fourth finger. 

Rossi clears his throat, “You two are officially the first members to marry within the BAU, you may now kiss.” 

My smile only widens, as my hands reach up to cup his face softly, and my lips press to his. I feel the corners of his mouth lift in a smile. From behind my closed eyelids I see a flash, but I take no notice lost in the kiss with my now husband. Our lips move against one another, he dips us down slowly yet romantically,, and once we pull apart I miss it, so I quickly press my lips to his and then move back. My smile permanently on my face. The others are clapping and hollering from around us. It is then that I finally notice the camera grasped in Penelope's hand and I’m already so grateful for the pictures that she must have been taking.

My eyes flick back to Spence, “We’re married.”

“Yes we are,” He grins, wrapping his arms around my waist and spinning me around. The group lets out a chorus of laughs and Rossi’s voice breaks through. “Now we eat.” 

We share a beautiful meal, some pasta that I assume Dave made and the conversation flows freely. 

“Remember when you called me on your way to your first date with Y/n?” Morgan teases, “You were so nervous that I actually debated calling an ambulance to make sure you didn’t have a heart attack.”

The group laughs once more and Spencer buries his head into the crook of my neck, clearly embarrassed, “Yeah, well I had reason to be.” 

“Oh wait, that reminds me,” JJ begins, “Y/n called me the day Spence finally asked her out, and you guys, I wish you had been able to hear the excitement in her voice. I know I’m a profiler, but you didn’t need to be to see that the girl was already crazy for him.” 

I let out a soft giggle, reminiscing on that day, and I bring up mine and Spencer's conjoined hands and press my lips to his. 

The soft sounds of Jason Mraz’s ‘I Won’t Give Up’ begins to chime through the air, I stand up, and pull Spencer along with me. 

“Dance with me?” I ask him, and he just nods in reply, pulling me in closer to him. One of his hands rests on my hip and the other encloses mine. I rest my head onto his chest, I can hear the stop patter of his heart beat, as we sway together. He unloops our fingers, and my arms wrap around his waist and his other hand falls in my hair, holding me as close as possible. I feel so protected by the man who I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. 

~

TagList (let me know if you want to be tagged!) 

@saucybeeches​

[secretpeachtea]

Onigiri Miya Tidbits Ch 3

Title: the unexpected reunion

Genre: gen fic, reader insert

Word count: 5.1k

Summary: Onigiri Miya is now hiring and you just happen to be the right person for the job. The business has been gaining popularity since its grand opening, and many customers travel from different cities just to have a bite of Miya Osamu’s delicious recipes. You did expect some craziness from working in food services, but what you didn’t expect was to be bombarded with frequent tomfoolery from a bunch of attractive volleyball players during your shifts.

disclaimer: manga spoilers

A/N: I uhh went a little overboard with the word count this time, but im a hoe for msby so whoops. hope you enjoy!

Previous///Next

“Good work today, (Name)-san!”

“You too, Osamu-san!”

Your boss walks up to the entrance and switches over the sign to display ‘Closed’. You let out a deep yawn as you grab the broom to start your nightly cleaning routine at Onigiri Miya.

It’s hard to believe that it’s already been a month since you started working here. You can honestly say that this is probably the most enjoyable job position you’ve had in a while. You were able to learn new onigiri recipes and even started recognizing some of the regular customers that have fallen in love with Osamu’s cooking. This includes a very kind, elderly woman who always makes sure to give you a peppermint every time she stops by.

Your friendly relationship with Osamu has definitely been one of the most obvious reasons why you’ve been able to juggle everything in your life along with working for your expenses. He’s become a trustworthy and reliable person even though you’ve only known each other for a short period of time. Although it was a bit awkward calling each other by your first names in the beginning, you both got fairly comfortable addressing each other since you practically see him almost every day. 

Though he doesn’t necessarily count as a customer, Osamu’s troublemaker brother is another frequent guest at Onigiri Miya. Atsumu comes by to visit at least once a week to eat or stop by after practice. By default, that means you’ve had the pleasure to deal with his antics every week since the kitchen massacre incident. He’s even gotten into the habit of calling you ‘sweetheart’ just to get some reaction out of you. You have to admit, it’s pretty fun to watch the twins banter back and forth, especially since Osamu always makes Atsumu pay for whatever he eats (“But, I’m your brother!”/”Yeah, so you should support my business.”).

Despite the chaos that follows Miya Atsumu, you always end up striking up a decent conversation, usually revolving around volleyball and his team. He always brings up how he’ll bring over the team eventually, but it’s just been a bit busy lately since they were preparing for tryouts. He actually hasn’t come by for a couple days now for that reason.

You snap out of your thoughts when you hear Osamu’s phone ringing. Judging by the slight scowl on his face, it’s probably his brother. You just continue to sweep under the counter, assuming that the call isn’t that important.

“You’re what? Right now? Seriously?” Osamu questions with a slightly peeved tone. There’s a brief pause as the other person on the other line starts whining. Your boss just sighs in defeat. “Fine. Only this one time since it’s been a while.”

Osamu ends the call reluctantly and you’re slightly concerned at his reaction. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, ‘Tsumu just told me that he’s on his way here with some of his teammates. Apparently they’re celebrating the new player on their team but everywhere else is closed or too crowded.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised that he told you last minute,” You sympathized.

“They’re gonna be a bit rowdy, so I guess I’ll just apologize now for bringing you into this mess. You can just continue doing your own thing and not worry about them.” The man just let out another tired sigh before making his way back behind the counter area and setting up any ingredients he may need to make more food. You let out a chuckle and waved off the unnecessary apology before continuing your sweeping.

It seems like the guys really told Osamu last minute because before you knew it, the front door flew open and a group of boisterous male voices rang through the air. You were so startled that you almost dropped the broom in your hands, turning your focus away from the guys that just walked in.

“Hey, ‘Samu! We’re here to party!”

“It’s been a while!”

“Wow! This place seems really nice! Your brother's pretty cool, Atsumu-san!”

Your body froze. You were caught off guard with the last person who spoke and couldn’t help but turn around quickly to confirm your suspicions. You were faced with four males clad in the yellow tracksuits you’ve become used to seeing since it’s the only thing you’ve seen the blonde Miya twin wear. Each held onto their own gym bags, so you assume that they just got out of practice. You recognize Atsumu and Bokuto. The one wearing a mask has never visited Onigiri Miya, but you can assume he’s Sakusa Kiyoomi, or better known as ‘Omi-Omi’ since that’s the nickname you hear from Atsumu’s stories. However, what you didn’t expect was to come face to face with a familiar mop of orange hair.

“Sho-kun?”

Everyone’s eyes shot towards your direction at your sudden interruption, including Hinata Shoyo’s. “No way! (Name)-san?!”

You placed your broom against the wall and the two of you made a beeline towards each other. Once you were close enough, Hinata engulfed you in a big bear hug. Even though he isn’t much taller than you, his muscular build entrapped you in a warm and comforting embrace. He rocks the two of you back and forth gleefully and you can’t help but squeal from the cute gesture.

Once the two of you separate, you both face each other with curiosity completely ignorant of the other people in the room who are looking back and forth between you guys in a state of bewilderment and shock.

“I didn’t know you worked here!” Hinata exclaimed.

“I actually only started working here about a month ago!” You responded back just as excitedly. “When did you get back to Japan? How’s Pedro? I didn’t get the chance to swap contact info before I left.”

“About a week ago! I tried to settle in and fix my sleeping schedule before I went to tryouts for Black Jackals and I got on the team! And, Pedro’s doing great! I can give you his social media account if you want!”

It seems like Atsumu was the first to get tired of watching without understanding the situation, so he just decides to break the ice himself, “Now, hold on a sec. You two know each other?”

“We actually met in Brazil!” Hinata replies.

“BRAZIL?!”

Osamu decided to join in on the questioning, albeit in a bit more of a reserved manner than his brother. “(Name)-san, why were you in Brazil?”

“I studied abroad for about 6 months lasts year,” you start to explain and then begin to ruffle Hinata’s hair. “I happened to run into Sho-kun after his bike broke down in front of the apartment I was staying at. Poor guy looked so lost, and his phone was out of battery so he couldn’t call anyone.”

The boy just laughs at your friendly gesture. “Yeah! (Name)-san helped me find the nearest repair shop and even patched up my injuries! I was really surprised to find someone else who spoke Japanese!”

“Same here. I didn’t know anyone in Brazil, so it was a bit lonely. We actually met up quite a few times to share a meal or watch a volleyball match at the beach whenever we were both free.”

The rest of the guys listened on with interest, except for maybe Sakusa who just walked over to one of the empty tables and wiped down the chair before taking a seat. Atsumu makes his way over to where you and Hinata are standing and throws an arm over the younger boy. “You guys seem pretty close if you’re on a first name basis, Shoyo-kun.”

Hinata just looked up to his fellow team member with innocent eyes. “Well, everyone called us by our first names in Brazil, so we just decided to go with it since it was getting a bit confusing for some of our friends.”

“That’s pretty cute. You guys are basically best friends already.” Atsumu just hummed in acknowledgement before turning his head towards Sakusa. “Him and I are also on a first name basis ‘cause we’re the best of friends. Ain’t that right, Omi-Omi?” 

You could hear a faint “tch” come from the masked figure. “Don’t associate me with one of your fantasies, Miya. And, I only called you by your first name that one time when your brother delivered food to the gym.”

“So cruel, Omi-Omi.” 

“Okay, guys. Take a seat! Food’s ready!” Osamu announces. “(Name)-san, you mind helping me bring some of this stuff?”

You nod your head and take some of the warm food into your hands following your boss to where all four of the guys are now seated. Similar to when you first met, Bokuto’s lips slightly glisten from the drool pooling at the sight of the tasty meal. Sakusa pulls his mask down and places it in a plastic bag so that it doesn’t get messy from the food. Once all of the food is set on the table, you and Osamu stand off to the side to give the guys some space as they eat. However, before anyone could take a bite, Atsumu stands up from his chair.

“Alright, guys! Before we start eating, we gotta remember why we’re here! Captain and the other guys were a bit busy, so they couldn’t make it tonight, but it’s important that we do this today!” The blonde pats Hinata on the head. “Welcome to MSBY Black Jackals, Shoyo-kun!”

Bokuto lets out a loud whistle. “WOO! Welcome to the team, Hinata!!”

Sakusa just nods his head at his new teammate, the usual frown he sports is now absent from his face. If you squint hard enough, there’s a miniscule curve at the corner of his mouth.

“But, that’s not all!” Atsumu remains standing as he dumps the rest of his speech on everyone in the room. He points at the two-tone haired male sitting in front of him. “Bo-kun! The bag, please!”

Bokuto snaps his fingers as if he just remembered something. The owlish man shuffles through his gym bag and produces a heavy plastic bag. You can hear the clinking of glass as he raises it higher. “I’ve got the good stuff!”

Atsumu looks ecstatic. “Can’t have a celebration without a little bit of alcohol to spice it up!”

Slightly concerned, you look up to Osamu to gauge his reaction towards the introduction of alcohol. He looks a bit uneasy, but just lets out his third sigh of the night. “Just don’t break anything, or I will make sure none of you make it out alive from this building.”

Completely ignoring the threatening tone, Atsumu and Bokuto start popping open bottles of who-knows-what. Sakusa just opts for a glass of water since he has no intentions of partaking in the silly shenanigans between the two most eccentric volleyball players. Hinata has no choice but to comply as Atsumu pours his glass to the brim. Eventually all the guys start to dig into their food as well.

With nothing else left to help them with, you and Osamu get back to cleaning the other areas. It only takes about 15-20 minutes to wipe down everything and gather the trash. You step into the back room to get everything together so that you’re prepared to leave whenever the group outside finishes their meal. You smile as you hear muffled laughter and loud conversations through the closed door. Your boss had let you know that he’ll clean up after them, but you didn’t have the heart to make him do all of that work himself. 

You step out to the main room to have an idea of where everyone’s at with their food but stop in your tracks as you witness a significantly more irritated Osamu watching the table of four with a twitching eye behind the counter. You’re about to ask what’s wrong, but you can pretty much guess what the problem might be. 

The table is littered with empty alcohol bottles and half-full glass cups. Surprisingly, there isn’t much of a mess in terms of leftover food, but it doesn’t make up the fact that there are three very drunk men hovering over the table. 

Atsumu’s upper body is entirely flushed pink from the bottom of his neck to the tips of his ears, and he’s fanning his face with the top of his shirt. Hinata practically has flowers oozing off of his figure as he sways back and forth next to the blonde, a permanent carefree smile plastered on his face next to his red cheeks. Although not as obvious as the other two, Sakusa has a glossy shine to his eyes above his own pink cheeks and hiccups occasionally in his seat, focusing his eyes on a tiny speck on the table. Not sure whether to be surprised or not, your eyes move onto Bokuto, who was completely sober. He heartedly laughs at the state of his drunk friends, enjoying every moment.

“I thought Sakusa-san wasn’t going to drink?” You ask Osamu.

Your boss just shakes his head. “‘Tsumu switched his glass when he went to the bathroom and he didn’t notice until it was too late.”

You’re not sure whether you want to pray for the blonde’s safety once Sakusa is in his right mind, or if you wanna ask Hinata to record the poor man’s fate in the hands of an angry, hungover Sakusa.

Osamu just turns around with heavy steps and makes his way to the back room, probably to do the same thing you went to the back room for a couple minutes ago. You look back to the table when you hear a chair scraping against the floor. Atsumu seems to have moved his chair right next to Sakusa because before you knew it, he was leaning against the tall spiker with his hands in the air.

“Omi-Omi! Can I borrow your sanitizer? My hands got dirty!” Wrong choice of words.

Sakusa immediately shoves his elbow backwards and it slams right into Atsumu’s chest, forcing his breath right out of him. The setter doubles over clutching his chest, while Sakusa simply pulls out his sanitizer and applies it to wherever he has come in contact with the man next to him. It seems like drunk Sakusa is a bit more violent about his way of rejecting people.

Remembering how tired your boss looked before he left the room, you felt the need to try and intervene to encourage the group to start thinking about calling it a day. As you approach, the first person to notice you was Hinata. As soon as he realizes who you are, his eyes light up as if he was a child that just received a birthday gift. 

“(Name)-san!”

You don’t even get the chance to make it halfway to the table when the boy jumps up from his chair and stalks over to where you are. Without warning, Hinata throws his arms over your shorter figure and smothers you with another hug. It takes all of your mental fortitude to not think about how muscular his arms feel around your shoulders or how strong his grip is on your back. He was definitely not this fit the last time you saw him.

“You’re awfully affectionate today, Sho-kun.”

“Hehe~ I’m just glad to see you, (Name)-san!” Hinata starts shuffling around a bit until his cheek is able to nuzzle with yours. You giggle at how adorable he is. 

Although you appreciate his affection, Hinata was slowly suffocating you with his tight embrace. You signal to the only other sober person in the room for help. Bokuto continues to laugh at everything going around him but complies and makes his way over to the two of you before peeling off the orange haired male from your body. Luckily, Hinata was too drunk to actually keep his grip on you and just fell into his teammate’s arms. 

“Thanks, Bokuto-san.” You’re able to stand up straight again and Bokuto gives you a thumbs up with a wide grin. He takes Hinata back to the table to sit him down and you follow suit. Osamu walked out of the back room at this time and just began tying up two large trash bags next to the sink, not even batting an eyelash in the group’s direction.

You should’ve expected it, but you were still startled when you suddenly felt a heavy arm sling across your shoulder. “So, you come here often, sweetheart?”

You blankly stare at Atsumu’s smug expression as he continues to nestle his arm comfortably around you. His flushed appearance was definitely not helping his attempt at flirting with you. “Come on, there’s no way a goddess like you could resist my divine qualities.”

“Lame.” Osamu was quick to comment on his brother’s cheesy words while walking towards the exit with the two garbage bags in his arms. He stepped outside and closed the door to keep any insects from wandering inside as he took out the trash.

You were about to swat Atsumu’s body away but noticed the deep, dark circles under his eyes and came to the conclusion that he’s probably going to pass out from exhaustion at some point anyways, so you just let him be. His attention span seems to be a lot shorter too since he suddenly let go of you and lunged forward towards Sakusa’s hand sanitizer bottle that was now sitting neatly on top of the table. 

Although he’s usually good at completely avoiding Atsumu’s attempts at stealing his things, Sakusa’s reflexes were a bit deterred due to his tipsy condition. Instead of snatching the bottle away from the blonde’s vicinity, Sakusa ended up knocking the bottle to the ground with his own hand. 

Luckily, Bokuto was able to stop Atsumu from crashing onto the table headfirst with one arm still holding onto Hinata. Afraid that Sakusa would possibly slap the setter or drag Hinata into the crossfire in a drunken stupor, he pulled Atsumu close by and slung his arm over his two drunk teammates. 

Sakusa just let out a disgruntled groan and sent a nasty glare to Atsumu. He stood up to look for the fallen bottle but misjudged where he stepped. Luck decided not to be on his side as the tall spiker placed a foot directly on top of the sanitizer bottle causing his balance to shift. The world tilted in his vision and his body began to succumb to gravity and fall...on top of you.

You tried to stop both of your bodies from losing balance by wrapping your arms around his torso, but your shorter frame was no match for Sakusa’s much bigger body. You can hear shouts of concern coming from the other three guys as the both of you crashed to the floor in a mess of limbs. The air is knocked out of you and you wince at the heavy weight laying on top of you.

During the fall, your eyes shut tight automatically to brace yourself, so it takes a moment for you to reopen them. As soon as your eyelids flutter open, your breath hitches. Sakusa’s face is mere inches from your own and he looks just as stunned as you do. You realize that his thighs are on either side of you and somehow he was able to quickly place a hand under your head to make sure it didn’t come in direct contact with the hard floor after toppling over together. Your heart is beating fast and you can only hope that Sakusa doesn’t notice.

While the two of you are stuck in a brief trance, the rest of the group is just watching in a huddled position. Even they were mostly keeping silent, perhaps anticipating whatever was going to happen next. Hinata's face held a mixture of confusion and wonder, while Atsumu’s expression held obvious annoyance. Bokuto's eyes danced with fascination as his mouth hung loose. 

All of a sudden, the front door slid open and everyone’s head snapped towards the entrance. Osamu stood on the other side wiping his hands on his jeans. 

“Alright, guys. It’s time to-” He stopped speaking once he took a good look at the scene in front of him. It was a bit difficult to figure out what was going through Osamu’s head because he just held a deadpan expression. 

Not liking the bit of tension in the air, you clear your throat. “Um...I could use a little help.”

At your pleading, Osamu steps back inside the shop and grabs Sakusa by the shoulders to slowly take him off of you so that the spiker doesn’t end up falling over again from any sudden movements. You sit up and see that Bokuto had gotten up from his seat to lend you a hand. You take it gratefully.

“I guess now would be a good time to go home,” Bokuto mentions sheepishly. “Do you guys need any help with cleaning?”

Osamu gave Sakusa a glass of water to sober him up a bit then turned to Bokuto. “Just keep an eye on these guys and (Name)-san and I will take care of everything else.”

With that, you and your boss spent the next couple of minutes clearing the area and washing all the used dishes. In the meantime, Bokuto kept an eye on all of the other guys and even called up a taxi to arrive soon. Atsumu and Hinata seemed to have fallen asleep while waiting, and Sakusa just slouched in his chair quietly grumbling about how his sanitizer is undoubtedly contaminated. 

Once everything was set, all of you grabbed your things (Osamu shouldering his snoring brother; Bokuto piggybacking a snoozing Hinata) and locked the door to Onigiri Miya. The taxi was already parked in front of the shop, so all that was left was to figure out how everyone was getting home.

“You only called for one taxi?” Osamu questioned.

“Oh yeah, Omi-kun doesn’t want to ride the taxi,” Bokuto replied as he hoisted Hinata’s body in the back seat of the taxi. “I thought we could all just squeeze into the back since most of us are on the way anyways.”

Sakusa, who is slightly more sober than before, took out a new mask from his bag. “I live a couple blocks down, so I’ll just walk.”

“Oh, actually, I live a couple blocks down too, so I was just planning on walking as well,” you respond. “You all have to go in the opposite direction, so it’ll be a hassle to drop me off.”

Osamu’s eyebrows furrow with unease. “It’s pretty late. I don’t think it’s a good idea to walk around in the dark alone at this hour. Where’s your place?”

“Ashita Complex*.”

“Seriously?!” Bokuto suddenly exclaims, startling everyone. “Omi-kun lives there too!”

“No-”

“That’s great,” Osamu interrupts. “You guys can walk together.”

Bokuto’s hair flairs up along with his arms in satisfaction. “Man, I love it when everything works out and everyone’s happy!”

There seemed to be no room for objections by the germaphobe himself, so he just sighs in defeat. The rest of you just say your goodbyes and Osamu finally shoves Atsumu into the back before taking the front passenger seat himself with Bokuto offering to sit in the back with his sleeping teammates. As soon as the taxi is out of sight, you turn around to see that Sakusa had already started walking ahead.

“Hey! Wait up!” You rush to where Sakusa was and eventually match your strides with his.

The taller man doesn’t slow down his pace and just continues forward. He does, however, glance at you from the corner of his eye. “You know, if you live so close by, it would’ve been fine if they dropped you off.”

“And, leave you to walk home by yourself? No way.” You shake your head to emphasize your resolve. “You’re still slightly tipsy, so I feel more comfortable seeing you get to your apartment in one piece.”

“I’m fine.”

“You say that, but then why are you still swaying as you walk?” You point out. “I know you’re not acting like a typical intoxicated person, but your mind is still pretty cloudy, right?” 

There was no way to counter that argument because even Sakusa knew that he wasn’t exactly walking straight since he wasn’t completely sober. “Then, walk at least six feet behind me.”

You pout a bit at his pettiness. The only way to fight fire is with fire. “Yeah? But, what if you lose your balance and bump into a street light that hundreds of people have probably touched throughout the day?”

Silence. You know you’ve won this time, but you still try to be a bit respectful and stand at least an arm’s length away. 

The rest of the walk is fairly quiet, only the sounds of your footsteps echoing across the empty streets. You didn’t mind, though, since you were able to just enjoy the cool night air that refreshed your tired mind. Once you reached the apartment complex, Sakusa stepped back as you scanned your ID card and opened the door. You figured he just didn’t want to touch anything, but didn’t say anything since you were just too tired to question him.

The only elevator in the building was under maintenance, so the two of you had to take the stairs for today. 

“What floor are you?” You ask.

“3rd.”

“Oh, you live on the floor right below me.” You were a bit surprised at how you haven’t run into him at all since you’ve lived in this apartment for a while. To be honest, it’s probably because he doesn’t go out much unless it’s for volleyball.

As the two of you step onto the 3rd floor, Sakusa starts heading for his apartment door. You didn’t really expect anything from him, so you were taken aback when Sakusa stopped in his tracks to look at you briefly.

“Thanks.”

 A small smile forms on your lips at Sakusa’s simple gesture. “Good night, Sakusa-san.”

The said man just raises a hand over his shoulder without looking back and takes out his keys with his other arm. You standby to make sure he goes in safely and hear the lock click. Satisfied, you climb the rest of the stairs to your floor and make your way to your own apartment. 

As soon as you're inside, you shove off your shoes and make a beeline for the couch. Taking in a deep breath, you eventually exhale willing your exhaustion to leave your body as well. It probably won’t do you any good to fall asleep in your uniform, so you decide to change into more comfortable clothing and prepare for bed. 

Clothed in your favorite gym shorts and oversized T-shirt, you hop into bed. Your eyelids are practically closing in on themselves as you scroll through your phone one last time. Despite your initial tiredness, your eyes shoot open when you catch a glimpse of a certain YouTube video.

“Kodzuken posted a video today!” You squeal out loud. There’s no way you can sleep without watching it now. Kodzuken was your favorite Youtuber, and you’ve never missed a single one of his videos. You even went as far as buying merchandise from his athletic wear company, hence the Bouncing Ball shorts and shirt you were currently wearing as your pajamas. 

If you ever met him in person, you honestly don’t know how you’d react. You’ve heard that he used to play volleyball in high school, so maybe with all the volleyball players you’ve been coming across, fate will find its way to you.

But, a girl could only dream.

Leftovers:

Bright light glares through the blinds of Sakusa’s room to indicate that the sun has already risen quite a bit. A loud doorbell rings through the apartment causing Sakusa to stir. The man opens one eye and groans at the obnoxious headache that was already set to ruin his morning. His mouth is incredibly dry, and he doesn’t feel that he’s gotten nearly enough sleep last night. Sakusa was most definitely feeling the symptoms of a mild hangover.

“I’m going to kill that blonde gremlin.”

With much reluctance, the tall man drags his body to a standing position. He makes the bed as neat as possible before walking out of his room towards the front door. Sakusa makes the effort to look through the peephole to see if he could make out the person who decided to disturb him from the comforts of his bed but is confused when he can’t see anyone outside. 

Normally, he would just walk away and assume it’s just someone who rang the wrong doorbell (it’s happened multiple times before), but there’s a nagging feeling at the back of his brain to just open the door. Sakusa clicked the lock loose and opened the door wide enough for him to peek outside. A slight shuffling noise startled him and when he looked down he saw a plastic bag hooked onto the door handle. 

A little skeptical, Sakusa grabs two disposable gloves from the box he placed next to the entrance of his home and slides them onto his hands. He has no idea where this bag has been, so he’s not taking any chances in coming in contact with potential germs.

Shutting his door closed with his leg, Sakusa makes his way over to his kitchen countertop and places the bag on top of it. He considers just throwing it out, but notices a pink slip of paper at the top of the contents inside. Curiously, he pulls it out and realizes that it’s a written note. He doesn’t recognize the handwriting, but skims through to find any hints of the sender, and surely enough, he sees your name printed in the second sentence.

Hey, Sakusa-san! It’s (Surname) (Name). I’m on my way to work, so I thought I’d just drop this off really quick. You drank quite a bit, so I made you some soup to counter the hangover. Don’t worry! I thoroughly washed my hands and put on gloves before making it! Feel free to throw it out if it makes you uncomfortable. I also put in an extra sanitizer since I know you were upset about the one yesterday. Have a nice day at practice!

Sakusa just stares blankly at the piece of paper for a couple seconds before putting it down and analyzing the contents in the plastic bag. Just like you said, there’s a large blue thermos and a travel-size sanitizer bottle that looks almost identical to the one he dropped yesterday just in a different color. If he were to be completely honest, he probably has the same bottle somewhere in his cleaning supply shelf, but you can never have too many sanitizers. As he took out both items, his nose caught the familiar scent of disinfectant. You must’ve wiped down everything before placing it in the bag.

The stoic man stares at the thermos and sanitizer in silence. After a couple more moments, he simply turns towards his stove and starts heating up the soup.

Ashita Complex: I made it up :D (If you’re curious, ashita means ‘tomorrow’ in Japanese)

***Please do not succumb to peer pressure when drinking, folks! Drink safe!

A/N: the #1 Cockblock Award goes to...Miya Osamu, everyone! Hehe, just kidding~ I also added a ‘Leftovers’ part to this chapter as sort of an ‘extra’ or an ‘omake’! I don’t know how often I’ll add these, but I really wanted to write this one, so I hope you enjoyed it too!

[smolbeandrabbles]

Almost Maybes - Ralph Anderson x Jeannie Anderson (The Outsider)

@wltz-bby​ @happyskywhale​

Happy Birthday @mandy23b​ 😘💕

May I proudly present to you, your babies!

Author’s Note: Pretty much entirely book canon and references, which is how we like things in this house!

I’m not gonna lie, when I very first heard this song (in... April?) I thought about it as a Ralph song, and then a Ralph/Jeannie concept and I knew that if I was going to do it - I would write it for you for your Birthday, so, it’s been a little while in the making, to say the least!

I hope you enjoy, and that you don’t mind that it’s not a reader insert for your birthday 🎁💙

Love you lots @mandy23b​! 😘😘

Almost Maybes - Jordan Davis

Disclaimer: Show watchers only, a whooole bunch of book references ahead / The Outsider & characters belong to Stephen King / gifs & lyrics not mine

Premise: Ralph reminisces on everything that has led to him being right here, right now...

Words: 1452

Warnings: N/A - literally there is more swearing in the lyrics than there is anything in the story.

_______

I had one saying we were done In a Baton Rouge college bar It kinda came out of nowhere Man, I took that one pretty hard And I had another one in another town And I spent a whole lot of nights missing her 'Til it all went black, she stopped texting back And I finally got the picture So here's to the almost, so close It's over out of the blues Here's to the "hey, I think we need to talk" And the "it ain't me, it's you" Here's to the tears and beers and wasted years On the weeds that looked like daisies I wouldn't be sitting here next to you If it weren't for the almost maybes Here's to the one that my family thought Was gonna make me drop to one knee And I tried like hell, but I couldn't help My mama loved her more than me And to all those July crushes Turning into September leavin's Goodbyes that didn't feel good back then It happened for a real good reason Wouldn't be no all alones Wouldn't be no sad songs Wouldn't be no had enough Pick yourself up and get to moving ons From the didn't work outs The girls next door and the bat shit crazies There wouldn't be no you and me right now If it weren't for the almost maybes No, it wouldn't be no you and me right now If it weren't for the almost maybes

---

It was a fairly quiet day in the Anderson household – which all three of them could be glad of. Derek had been to Summer camp again this year and, having only been back a few weeks, Ralph was trying to encourage ample family time. Today, though, he’d let his son off and let him sleep in until 12pm (probably). Ralph was sitting out in the backyard, staring out across the grass even though he wasn’t really looking at anything. Instead, and probably why he was letting Derek sleep in, Ralph was doing some reminiscing. It wasn’t often he thought about his life before his family; probably because there wasn’t much to think about. Nothing particularly worth highlighting: he and his brother had drifted apart and only shared the occasional holiday or birthday card. There wasn’t really anything of note in his career either, sure he had plenty of horrifying stories from his early days at Flint City PD – but that was all overshadowed by the events of the previous summer. (And who in their right mind would want to reminisce any of that?!) The only good thing about last summer was meeting Holly. Instead Detective Anderson was reminiscing on how exactly he got to be right here, right now. How did he arrive at this moment in time, with the son he was allowing to sleep in… and Jeannie. Ralph wasn’t really one to go around proclaiming his love from the rooftops, but if he felt the need to ever get sappy… Well, there wasn’t any other words for it, she was the love of his life. Arguably the only love he’d ever really had. Which is what he was thinking on right now. Sure he’d had crushes, high school girlfriends, college girlfriends… summer romances and then the kinds of ‘love’ that lasted about as long as Spring Break. Geez, that’s too long ago to want to think about! But Jeannie was like none of those, there was no all-consuming passion or ever the belief of holding onto something and making it work just because… Sure he’d had those fast-heart-beat do-not-screw-this-one-up-Ralph! Your-life-depends-on-it! moments when he’d first met her. But Jeannie always made everything so easy; Ralph worked hard for her because he loved her, because he wanted to be impressive – not just good boyfriend material, but husband material… and then father material. Now he could think back to 15 years ago when she’d come rushing to him to announce the result of her pregnancy test: as scary as the Outsider? Well it had been to him at the time. Jeannie was his best friend; she had been for 25 years. And to him, that was what really mattered. They had stuck together through everything: good and bad, the very toughest of times – and Ralph could also count a fair few of those. He laughed to himself, suddenly remembering some of the break ups. He and Jeannie had had many an argument and disagreement but they’d never fought; not in the way that had ever had him thinking they wouldn’t make it. Ralph fretted more that they wouldn’t make it because he wasn’t good enough for her; worried over that one for years, even when they’d first got married. He’d probably never been more nervous than asking her father for his blessing… then more terrified that she’d simply say no. But some of the other break ups. Sometimes the arguments were just plain funny to think back on – even if they hadn’t been at the time. Ralph had taken plenty of rejections pretty hard, that when he examined them in hindsight revealed he’d probably dodged bullets. Oh, he’d done his fair share of breaking up with people – some had even been pretty amicable! – but there was some bad mixed in too, one so awkward that Ralph hadn’t even been able to tell her he was breaking up with her because she wouldn’t stop crying. Yeah, probably best not to reflect on that one… It took a little time for him to realise she’d been calling him. “-Honey, are you alright!?” “Oh!” He smiled instantly, “Yeah, sorry, I-” She shook her head at him gently, there was no need for an explanation, Jeannie already knew. “Would you like coffee?” He nodded, “That would be great!” “White and sweet?” “Like me!” Ralph beamed, stealing Jeannie’s favourite phrase – it’s what she always said. He at least raised a laugh from her as she headed back inside and he watched her go, still beaming. That immediately set his mind to good things, for they had shared many more of those. In fact, Ralph wasn’t the only one with previous horror story relationships. He and Jeannie had had many a giggle together about some of her own. When he was a little younger Ralph used to joke about arresting anyone who had formerly broken her heart – if he were honest with himself, he’d probably still do it. She joined him then, placing his coffee down on the garden table she sat beside him, hands around her own. Jeannie sighed contentedly as she took her first sip – comfortable in the silence and Ralph’s presence as they observed their garden together. “So, what’s on your mind today, Mr. Anderson?” “Oh…” He shifted with a shrug, “Nothing exciting, previous relationships. Everything that lead to me being here.” She looked across to him with a raised eyebrow, almost choking on her next sip, “Lord, that seems a little deep for a Sunday morning!” “I can be deep, sometimes!” She laughed at that, the way Ralph folded his arms but couldn’t keep that scowl up. Eventually instead he held his hand out for hers, and Jeannie was only too glad to slip her hand into his. Ralph squeezed hers gently, “I love you, you know that?” “Hmm, occasionally.” She couldn’t help her tease, taking another sip, “What’s gotten into you?” He sighed, “I dunno… I just…” “You know that Derek isn’t going to rise until early afternoon too, right?” It was past time for Ralph to drag him out of bed, anyway. “Well that’s part of it.” “What is?” Jeannie tipped her head gently at the way her husband was chewing the inside of his mouth. “Spending time together… Y’know? He’ll be heading to college before we know it and I just don’t want to miss-” “Ralph, Ralph!” She calmed him, “Sweetie, we have years yet, first you think too much on the past and then too much on the future! Don’t you give that brain of yours a rest?” She knew the answer, but Ralph shook his head anyway, “Can’t.” Her voice was soft, and she placed her mug down to gather his hand between both of hers, “You can.” “Okay, but… I was thinking about you too, you know?” There was suddenly that smile he loved so much upon her face, “Of course I do.” And his face lit up too, “I know exactly what you’re thinking, Ralph, I know you.” “Better than anyone.” He agreed, “Sometimes it’s scary.” Jeannie laughed again, “Well I figure sometimes I gotta be scary, or nothing would get done.” “Eh.” Although he wouldn’t quite disagree, “…I’d rather you be scary than some of our exes!” This time her laugh was infectious and he couldn’t help but chuckle as she placed a hand to her temple, “Oh, please! NO! Ralph-! I haven’t had to think about ex loves in 25 years, I shouldn’t like to start now!” “I just got thinking, if it wasn’t for all these people before you and everything I learned, I don’t think I’d ever be with you.” He’d screwed up before, more times than he’d probably care to admit, but Ralph couldn’t ever have afforded to with Jeannie. You know when you know; and Ralph had, almost immediately. Jeannie wasn’t about to let him take all the ‘credit’; “I messed up a bunch of times too.” She was as glad for it as he was, and despite her words, she knew he was right. Without all that, she wouldn’t be here holding his hand and wishing that Derek would wake up a little earlier without being forced to. “It was only ever really you.” She nearly blushed, “It was only ever really you, too.” “Oh?” He raised an eyebrow with a cocky grin, “That good, am I?” Jeannie shook her head, leaning across the table, Ralph leant in too, to accept her kiss. As sweet as their very first, and just as unforgettable as every kiss she’d ever given him. He chased her; one kiss wouldn’t be enough this morning. She had no complaints, he tasted just like the sugar in his coffee. That only had Jeannie laughing again, “You’ll do!”

---

Thank you for reading!!! 🥰🥰

[meowdymista]

In For A Penny - Arthur x Female Reader

Notes: Adult content for an adult game.

Words: 5220

Arthur Morgan x Female Reader

Now on AO3!

Riding in to camp at Clemens Point, it quickly becomes clear a celebration is underway. The upbeat music and loud chatter advise a steady flow of alcohol, long before Bill staggers up to the hitching posts with a whiskey bottle in each hand.

“Mr Morgan! Have a drink with us!”

Arthur chuckles, rolling his eyes as Bill shoves the emptier of the two into his hand. “Thanks, Bill. What’re we celebrating?”

“I don’t really remember,” he slurs, continuing on past to his horse and raiding its saddle bag. “Sean saw some working girl in Rhodes…?”

Dismounting, he scans the camp and spots you by the fireside with Tilly and Karen. “A working girl, you say?” he asks, but Bill has found the opened bottles of fine brandy he robbed off some travellers earlier and is swaying his way over to the medical tent. 

He removes his hunted gains from his horse’s flanks and takes a large swig of the honey coloured spirit, not averting his gaze.

“Hey, Arthur!”

“Hey, Lenny, how you doin’?” He slams the carcass onto Pearson’s table and drains the bottle, joining the young man leaning against the tree trunk.

“I’m good. Hey, you heard about Sean?”

“Something about him and a working girl?” He looks over to you again, surprised by the camp’s reaction to you. Usually when an outside woman is brought in, the camp splits down the middle, with the women and Strauss on one side, and the more confident, virile men closest to the poor soul brought in for the evening’s entertainment. Somehow you have found your way into the former, with the exception of Javier who is singing on the dirt by your feet.

“Yeah, a girl he met in Valentine! He-”

“Art’er Morgan!”

“Mr Macguire.”

“Pour yerself a drink!” Sean pushes a tin cup into Arthur’s chest, raising his own into the air and sloshing it down on the group. “We’re celebratin’!”

“Tha’s clear enough to see,” he growls, smirking “But the details are still a little hazy.”

“Oh, it’s a good story, Mr Morgan! It’s a good’un. See, back in Valentine after you boys picked me up from them bounty hunters, I borrowed a few dollars of Bill to get meself cleaned up see-”

“Not that the smell changed much,” winks Lenny, earning himself a laugh. He pats Arthur on the shoulder and moves off to join the fire.

“Bastard,” scoffs Sean, scowling. “Anyways, where was I? Oh yeah, I found myself talkin’ to a lovely lady with a beautiful face and, you know-” He gestures at his chest with his hands spread, laughing. 

Ignoring him, Arthur sniffs the cup. “What’ve you put in this? Stinks of moonshine!”

“Nah, it’s whisky! Maybe gin… Maybe bit of everything, but you’re interruptin’ me there! Again! Do you want to know what we’re celebratin’ or not?”

“Fine.” He takes a swig and almost spits it out. Definitely moonshine.

“Well see, of course I needed to support the local economy of that muddy town, so I take her up to bed and we have a grand ol’ time! Honestly, it’s up there as one of the bests!” (“One of the few in total,” comments Charles on his way past.) “Anyways, after we say our goodbyes and I throw her the I’m too young to be settlin’ routine, I ride back to Horseshoe. Tha’s the end o’ tha’, bla dee bla, and then we come crashing into this place.

"All’s well, Mr Morgan. It’s been a coupl’ o’ months and I figure, hey, we’ve had some good scores, I reckon I’ve earned meself a wee pat on the back since none th’ rest o’ you fellers are doin’ it for me. I decided to get me revolver all done up nice at the gunsmit’ in Rhodes when I see her fanning herself outside the parlour house.

“You could have knocked me down wit’ a feather, Arthur! She’s leaning up against a pillar, with her belly out here!” He gestures again, his hand two feet from his untucked shirt. “I thought I’d had it, Morgan! Saw my life flash before me eyes! Sean Macguire, washed up at twenty t’ree!”

“So, we’re celebratin’ you becoming a daddy?”

“Oh no, Mr Morgan! No, we’re celebratin’ that I’m not going to be a pappy, and Ol’ Scar Face gets to keep his title as shitty dad of t’year!”

“I can hear you, you son of a bitch!” cries John from the poker table. Sean waves a hand in his direction dismissively.

“What makes you so sure?” asks Arthur.

“Because she was knocked up before she met me!” He grins widely, trying to instill the same excitement in his audience. Instead Arthur shakes his head, taking another swig, before cursing at the cups remembered contents and tipping it into the grass. “I’m just going down in history as a motherfucker! Not a pappy! How great is that?”

“For the kid? Oh, I’m sure he’s thrilled to pieces!” he says coldly.

“Ouch! Would you rather have another Jack in camp?”

“I would rather you stop risking becoming a father if you ain’t ready to be one!”

“Is that what you told Marston?”

“It’s what every boy is told when he becomes a man!” Arthur grabs a beer from a nearby crate, trying and failing to hide his frustration. “I guess no one ever thought you grown up enough to say.”

The redhead staggers, clutching his shirt. “Ooft, Mr Morgan, you're pulling me heart out me chest! I thought you’d be happy for me!”

“Mm, more like happy for the kid in question.” He looks back over to you, watching you laugh. Immediately he feels himself relax. “So who’s she? You bring her in to celebrate, or somethin’?”

“Who? Y/N?” Sean tops up Arthur’s cup, but he doesn’t notice. At that same moment, you look up and meet his gaze. He holds it hungrily, but Karen interrupts, offering you another drink, forcing you to look away. “Nah, she joined us couple nights back. Musta been the first night you was off huntin’ if you’ve not met her yet.”

“Y/N? That her real name?”

“As far as I know, but you know me, I don’t ask much.” Sean laughs and walks away, leaving Arthur to drain his beer in one.

“Everythin’ alright?”

He starts, pulling his eyes off you to find Abigail getting herself a bowl of stew. Unable to remember his last meal, he follows suit.

“Yeah, just gettin’ lost in my head I guess.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t mean it. Sean, I mean.” She gives him a sad smile. “Think he’s just scared of what could have been and relieved it isn’t.”

“Well, like I said, if he ain’t ready to be a daddy-”

“No one’s ever ready to be a parent. Hell, I was scared shitless when I found out I was expecting Jack, and then John…” “John’s scared of his own reflection.” This earns him a laugh as he tears them each a chunk of bread to go with their meal.

“You can’t tell me you weren’t scared when you found out about Eliza?”

“Oh, Miss Roberts, you don’t know the half of it.” They chuckle quietly, the warm evening air suddenly sombre. “Terrified is more like it, but I guess that went away soon enough.” His eyes drag back to you and how your smile lights up by the fire. “Say, who brought in Y/N?”

Abigail follows his gaze to where you’re sat and shrugs. “I don’t know exactly. Probably one of the fellas since we ladies don’t go out much.”

He takes another drink from the cup in his hand, but it no longer strips his tongue of tastebuds. “Hey, you not sitting down to eat that?”

“Not tonight,” she smiles, walking away. “Jack’s already in bed. G’night, Arthur, don’t make too big a fool of yourself, y’hear?”

He doesn’t. There’s something about you that draws him in, something about the whole situation that isn’t quite right, but he can’t focus when his jeans are tightening over his hips. He shakes his head, trying to clear it, but when Karen leaves her seat beside you, his untouched stew hits the ground and his spurs clink towards the fire.

********

“And who might you be?”

You look up from the flames, surprised. The man towers over you, his face unreadable and his thumbs tucked into his gun belt. Before you can answer, he has lowered himself next to you, nodding at the guitar playing mexican by your feet.

“Javier.”

“Arthur.”

“Didn’t take you long to serenade the newcomer, huh?”

You blush as Javier chuckles. “Usted me conoce bien.”

“Am I supposed to know what that means?” The stranger laughs loudly, drunkenly, his knee knocking yours.

“We’ve been running together long enough, haven’t we?”

“Ah, s’true, you got me there.” He shakes his head, chuckling as he shoves a cigarette between his lips. You watch his strong hands fumble with the small yellow box. His broad thumb pushes the insert too far, losing the majority of the sticks to the turf between his boots, but he doesn’t seem to notice. You grow more and more awkward as you’re forced to watch him drop or snap matches by the handful. He curses and drinks from the tin cup he brought over with him.

You notice Javier watching as well, his fingers continuing to dance over the strings. He mutters something in Spanish, and the smirk spreads enough to flash his teeth. You can only guess it is a friendly insult of some kind, but Arthur seems to come to another conclusion. He nudges you, and nods at the Mexican.

“Have you met the tough Mexican freedom fighter? The one that ran away when things got nasty?”

You hesitate, not sure how to respond. Luckily Javier shakes his head, his tightening jaw the only thing betraying his irk. “Let’s not play this game again, Arthur. It gets messy too fast.”

He grumbles, distracted when he finally gets a match to spark. He tries to hold it to the tobacco, but it burns out before his hands steady. He grunts in defeat, tucking the crumpled cigarette back into his breast pocket and turns to take you in. Somewhat satisfied, he leans forward, his hot breath moving the hair you have tucked behind your ear.

“So how much do you go for?” Your eyes widen with surprise. You try to speak, but no words form. For some reason, this tickles him. “Well? Cat got your tongue?”

“Leave her alone, Arthur.”

“Aw, Miss Tilly, I’m only playing.”

“Is he bothering you?” she asks gently. You can’t answer, your head is reeling with the way he spoke to you so bluntly, like you’re a whore looking for work. She sighs and gets to her feet, pulling you along with her. “C’mon. Let’s get another drink, and leave these assholes alone.”

“What’d I do?” he asks innocently.

“What didn’t you do?” mutters Javier.

“Wha’s tha’ supposed to mean?”

Tilly walks you away to a quieter corner, apologising, but you laugh it off. After all, you can think now. His proximity had put your head in a spin, but away from the heat and the physical contact you could think clearly again. You assure her no offence has been taken; he’s drunk, and something about his breath made you believe his drinks were much stronger than yours.

You clink a couple of fresh beers in cheers, and when Karen swoops round again, you let her pour you another shot of whisky directly into your mouth.

“Take it easy, huh?” Mary Beth says, touching Karen’s arm, but the blonde is already travelling again, this time towards the Irish man in the green bowler hat.

“Remind me again why I put up with you?” she slurs.

“Because you love me, darlin’!”

She laughs loudly, prodding him in the chest. “If I loved you, would I do this?” A crack reverberates across the lake, leaving the red head with a flaming red cheek.

“What was tha’ for?”

Mary Beth sighs in defeat, shaking her head at you. “She’s not normally like that, I promise. That boy is an exception.”

“Funny! I was just saying the same thing about Arthur!” You try to stop her, but she’s quickly confessed your strange encounter. Trying to hide your embarrassment, you find yourself infinitely grateful Tilly hasn’t heard everything he said. You like this group and don’t want anybody thinking less of you because of some drunken remark.

“Odd, he usually keeps to himself when there’s a new lady in camp,” muses Mary Beth.

“Abigail travelled with us a full month before he spoke to her.”

You set aside your empty bottle, feeling a little light headed. The two women muse, silently conversing in front of you until they’re interrupted with a shout.

“Where’s all this moonshine come from?” coughs Arthur, throwing aside a bottle he had found in the grass. “Is Sean trying to get everyone black out drunk?”

“Ah, not this time. That moonshine’s mine,” chuckles Hosea, walking over to pick up the bottle and return it to his tent. “I kept a couple back after we took it up to the Braithwaites. It comes in handy when making fire bottles and the like.”

“Well hide it somewhere more discrete, would ya?” Arthur splutters some more, following him. “I reckon Sean has already broken into your stash.”

“That would make sense,” sighs Hosea. You notice what had been five large bottles under the medical wagon has somehow dwindled to two. You also note that they are the same size and shape of the stuff Uncle had been drinking that morning, but you say nothing.

Following the women away from the campfire towards your beds, you see Mrs Adler close one of Mary Beth’s books she was reading by the lantern.

“It’s no good over here, ladies,” she grunts with disgust. “The boys are loud wherever you go.”

“Guess we had better wait it out by the water,” sighs Tilly.

“Hey, Y/N! What do you think of this?” Karen barrels her way to your side and, before you can greet her, she has tilted the contents of a tin cup into your mouth. The smell of alcohol alone is enough to bring tears to your eyes, and the other girls complain as you cough up a lung.

“Is that moonshine? And… tobacco?” you manage to gasp. 

“I can’t tell no more,” she slurs, squinting at the bottle. She turns around and pours you a cup from a different bottle. “What ‘bout this one?”

Mary Beth grabs her arm. “Karen! What’s gotten into you?”

“Leggo of me!”

Whilst they argue, you take the cup from her outstretched hand and drink it down in one. “Wow!” You shake your head, looking into the cup as though expecting it to contain flames. “This one... raspberry?”

“Who knows?” She yanks her arm free and begins to stagger off. “I found two men making Moonshine outside of Rhodes. Think they’re experimentin’, or at least that’s what Arthur said.” She hiccups and laughs at you as the world begins to spin.

“Y/N, are you ok?”

“Sure,” you say, trying to blink your way back to single vision. Taking a deep breath, you squeeze your eyes closed and reopen them. Mary Beth and Tilly are looking at you with concern. Mrs Adler’s face is unreadable. You can feel your cheeks burning, but also feel the confidence blossoming in your chest. “Yes. I’m fine.”

“Have you had moonshine before?” asks Tilly with concern. “It’s strong stuff.”

“A couple of times,” you admit, smiling despite yourself. None of the women look best impressed, but Karen rescues you, wrapping her arm over your shoulders after an about turn and drags you back to the party.

“Have all of you met my friend, Y/N?” she slurs.

“You’ve been with us two days now, is that right?” asks Charles gently. You nod, cheeks still scorching hot. You spot the brooding figure stood at the back of the group and somehow your cheeks grow hotter still. The distance allows you to see him in his entirety - his legs thickening at the thigh from the horse riding, the faded blue shirt tucked in at his narrow hips and stretching up to the thick broad shoulders. The crackle of the fire reflects in his eyes, and suddenly it’s not just your cheeks that are uncomfortably warm.

You don’t resist as Karen pushes another bottle into your hand.

“Who was it that found you?” asks Lenny.

“I wasn’t found as much as-”

You’re interrupted by a snort. “LENNAAAAY!” cries out Arthur suddenly.

Lenny groans. “Oh, not that again!”

He laughs that loud laugh to the group, staggering over to clamp a hand on the young man’s shoulders. “Here, we go out for one drink and I swear the next day the bartender tells me I asked every single person in the saloon if they were Lenny.” He doubles over. “But most of ‘em were white! And half of ‘em were women!”

“It hurt to find out what you think of me, Arthur,” teases Lenny.

Charles is watching the blonde man as he staggers, trying to calm himself down. “How much has he had to drink?” he asks no one in particular.

“Oi! Karen!”

“Uh oh,” giggles Karen, elbowing you.

“Where’s me moonshine gone?”

“Your moonshine?” Hosea intercepts Sean before he can reach you. “I think you’ll find that moonshine was camp supplies!”

“Yeah, Sean! Camp supplies.” She lifts your hand holding the bottle. “Thought you liked sharing?”

“Miss Jones.” Hosea turns around, voice stern. “Is that my moonshine?”

“No, sir,” she answers sweetly. “S’camp’s moonshine.”

He rolls his eyes as she takes another big swig, sloshes some into your cup and throws the rest onto the fire which immediately burns up. You can’t help but laugh at the degree of disapproval radiating from him. Taking the opportunity of your mouth agape, she tips the cup into your mouth and makes you swallow.

“First rule of drinkin’ is to never drink alone,” she states proudly.

“I feel like you’re supposed to ask first,” you gasp.

“Nah, that’s how you end up stuck in camp. If you want something, you have to go get it!”

“Mr Matthews!” squawks Miss Grimshaw from her bed. “God help you if you do not get that girl to bed!” “Shut up you old hag!” Karen retorts, stumbling as Hosea leads her away.

“Apologies, Miss Grimshaw. I’m on it!”

Blinking you realise you are the only one standing this side of the fire. The men are quiet, watching the flames eat at the logs, each of them in their own head. You can feel something watching you, and when you look up, you spot the same cowboy staring at you. As you lock eyes, he blinks and shakes his head as though coming to his senses. 

With a big sigh, he ambles towards the shoreline, dropping his beer on the ground as he passes. The world is swirling, but without his eyes on you, you suddenly feel invisible. Taking a deep breath, you follow him as best you can. You aren’t graceful and you certainly aren’t quiet, but the sound of deep sleep comes from the tents you have to pass, undisturbed even when you almost fall on top of them.

When he reaches the water he stops and leans his head back, looking up to the night sky. “You fool, Arthur Morgan,” he mumbles. “Why’d you have to be such an idiot? No wonder the women hate yer.”

You clear your throat and he flinches so hard, he almost falls over. You apologise, rushing forward to catch him. He grasps your outstretched arms and somehow manages to right himself. It takes a moment to realise you’re still holding on to one another.

“I’m sorry about before,” you begin, dropping your arms.

He mirrors you, shaking his head. “Nah, s’my fault. I ain’t ever been the best drunk.”

“I’m- I don’t mean that. I’m just…” You force yourself to take a deep breath.

“Listen, it was my mistake. There’s a lot going on, we gotta lotta plates spinnin’ and then I saw you, and...” He trails off, looking out at the water, sighing sadly. “I’m sorry for jumpin’ on yer like tha’.”

You follow his gaze out across the shore, listening to the waves lap gently over themselves. Dark smudges of geese fly through the moonlight and into the wisps of clouds that are starting to crawl in across the inky sky. Somewhere a laughing gull cries out, repeating itself like a grandfather clock on the hour.

“We’ve had… a lot to drink.” You close your eyes, but the world spins. He must see you wobble, because a hand touches your back before your eyes open again. You look up to thank him and find his eyes tracing your lips. You realise you’re biting your lip.

With a deep breath you straighten yourself up out of his arms. He doesn’t stop you, if anything it snaps him out of his trance.

“We’ve had a lot to drink and I don’t want to give you the wrong idea.”

“O’course, Miss. I understand.”

You turn your head to look up at him, to learn more about the stranger, but instead you find yourself staring at the muscles in his arms and the soft halo surrounding them. You swallow, and try to drag your gaze upwards, but you’ve already seen the bulge in his trousers, and you don’t make it to his face before noticing the skin radiating from the top of his shirt. His chest, his shoulders, his entire torso looks strong. You wonder if it feels the way it looks…

“You were saying, Miss?”

You feel the words vibrate through your fingers and rumble right down your arm. It takes a moment for the sound to wake you, and when it does you realise your mouth is open and your hand has found its way into the V of his shirt.

He’s already looking down at you. You feel the pulse of desire between your hips and the warmth spread as his grey gaze transfixes you. “Y/N?”

Grabbing his upper arm in one hand and his neck in the other, you pull yourself up to kiss him square on the mouth. With no need for encouragement, he returns the pressure, pulling you flush against his body.

Your body purrs as his trousers tense against your skirts, and a groan escapes your chest as his teeth brush your neck. Your head falls back, your lungs already panting, your nails dig into his shirt. When something brushes the back of your head, you open your eyes to see that you’ve moved a little away out of sight of those still at the fireside. He has you pressed up against the wall of eroded dirt, kissing you deeply, squeezing your breasts and you accept his worship.

His hair is thick between your fingers and you hook your leg around him to pull him closer. The move takes him by surprise, but he recovers quickly, providing you the weight you yearned for. He returns the motion, one hand breaking free from between you and rustling up your skirts in search of your ass.

You lower your leg and shove him hard in the chest. He falls back, confused until your undergarments land beside his head. You try to dispose of his trousers the same way, but the suspenders won’t allow you access. Realising your intentions, he pulls them off of his shoulders, cradling your head in both hands as he continues to nibble your lip, your hands fumbling over his union suit.

Coming up for air frustrates you until you see his exposed chest. You trace your fingers over his skin as his grip moves to your hips, pulling you down onto that bulge.

“Get this thing off me now or so help me,” you moan. Eager to obey, he pulls the waistband of your skirt, making it crack as the buttons pop off. With help, you manage to lift the skirt over your head, your blouse already unbuttoned half way.

He pulls his arms free from the cotton as you tug his trousers from his legs, his feet wrestling clumsily as he tries to kick off his boots. You try to scoop the loose change back into his pockets, but he’s pulled you back on top of him, kissing you again, his hands exploring your exposed skin and tugging at the strings of your corset. You try to help him, but the thick member rubbing against the inside of your thigh wipes any pre-existing intentions

Your entire body stiffens as he slips inside you with a long guttural groan. Suddenly the urgency has dissipated and is replaced with a low throbbing tremor deep into your core. Instinct forces your hips to grind deeper onto him, forcing air out of your lungs to make room.

You can feel yourself building, feel his fingers digging into the bare flesh of your hips, your pelvises trying to make contact with each other. You lift your arms behind your head, stretching your upper body as though somehow you can make more room for him inside you and cram more of him in. He pushes your body up and brings you slamming back down before you can object, and you feel it again, the throbbing of your core as he slowly bounces you over his shaft, groaning.

Before the bubble can burst, he throws you off. You open your mouth to argue, but he’s scrambling to his knees, reaching for your hips and pulling you back into him. You don’t really understand until you’re on all fours and he pushes himself back inside. He begins to build up speed, and you can feel his balls slapping against your clit. You don’t know what to do with yourself, he’s hitting all your sweet spots, your hands reaching for anything to hold onto, but instead returning fistfulls of dirt, sand and seaweed.

Your eyes roll as the bubble of pleasure which has grown ever larger inside you bursts. You can feel your muscles squeezing, then pulsing and squeezing again as though milking him. You can hear him choking at the sensation and as the edge of your orgasm softens, you push back hard and pull away, lengthening each stroke.

Arthur cries out into the night as he empties himself of weeks of pressure. You can feel it pouring into you, feel him twitching against your walls, and you lean back greedily. Eventually there is nothing other than your shared panting. No snoring, no birds, barely any tide.

You land on your front, exhausted. A muffled thud confirms Arthur has also hit the ground. You can barely summon the energy to lift your eyelids - the orgasm far exceeds anything you have achieved on your own or past partners.

Eventually you roll onto your back. The purple of the night is retreating in favour of violet and soft pinks. Following the colours, you see the first trickles of the sun bleeding over the shrine of the camp. You let it wash over you, feel it cleansing your spirit.

Wondering if Arthur is still breathing, you lift your head. He is also watching the serene sunrise, tranquility smoothing the lines of his face.

The bark of a dog snaps you back to reality. People are stirring in camp and you are as good as naked on the beach. As though summoned by the horror, a chuckle ripples over the water.

“Have yourselves a good evening?” asks a man rowing past. You grab your skirts and whatever else is at hand and flee.

************

“What were you thinking?”

Arthur groans, pulling the blanket over his face, but it gets yanked straight back to his waist. “Not now. Please, Hosea.”

“Not now? Put your trousers back on, boy, before there’s a mutiny!”

He tries to reach to see if there’s evidence for the battering, but he vomits spectacularly over the edge of the bed.

“What the devil took over you last night? You! Of all people!”  Arthur is barely able to breath between retches, the remnants of the moonshine, spirits and bile, splashing against the crates. “You take the one girl here without a history and- what’re you doing over here? Go find your mother!”

“Calm down, she’ll get paid,” he groans, wiping his mouth as a loud giggle knocks another nail into his brain..

“Why has Uncle Arthur got his bottom out?”

“Ooft, mark the day, young Jack! Eyewitness accounts report that the sun does not, in fact, shine out of Arthur Morgan’s arse cheeks! Who’d’ve thunk!”

“Mr Macguire, make yourself useful and take the boy with you! And tell the women to stay the other side of camp too!”

“Aw, but they’re already gigglin’ about it.”

“No one will be gigglin’ when I’m finished! Now git!”

“Alrigh’, alrigh’, keep your pants on!” Sean’s cackle splits Arthur’s head open. He tries to move the blanket, awareness creeping in amongst the hangover as the infamous chortle sounds.

“Not you too, Dutch. Go see to the women.”

“My boy, you have royally outdone yourself this time.” His laughter booms off the trees. “Come along, Miss O’Shea, nothing to see here.”

“I think a lot of t’girls will disagree with you there, Dutch.”

“Especially Y/N if the stories are true!”

“Ain’t no stories to be tellin’! Everybody heard them!”

“Shee-yit.” Arthur groans, his memory hissing at the scratch marks on his back..

“Trousers on. Now. Before more people come ogling.” The chest by his feet creaks open, and clothes begin to rain on him. “And for the love of God, sort out the mess you made on the shore! Last thing we need is Pinkerton’s following the trail of bloomers to camp!”

He sits up with a grunt, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, eyes squinting at the bright light of the tent. Hosea kicks a lone worn boot away from the puddle, cursing.

“A little privacy?”

“Don’t make me laugh! You might not be a teenager, but I’ll throw you out by your ear!”

“What’s your problem?”

“My problem?” The old man gestures to the heavens. “Where to start? Disrupting the camp with your racket! Littering belongings for others to find! Playing buckaroo with the girl who’s here for her protection!”

“Her protection?” He scoffs, his hands shaking too much to button his shirt, but his stomach sinks.

“She didn’t tell you?”

He winces. “We didn’t do much talking,” he admits.

“Dutch found her robbing the trailers just above Rhodes. He was going to give her a ride home - to that run down place, Lonnie’s Shack - but Sean had scoped it that morning. Said some bandits rocked up and took out the father living there before setting up camp. So Dutch brought her here instead.”

“Bet you’re going to say she’s not even a whore at this rate,” he groans, trying to push himself off the bed, but the sight of his adopted father’s scowl knocks him back. “You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me.”

“Get up and clean up, mister!” Hosea kicks the chest and stalks away. “Before I give Bill his gelding tongs back!”

[buckthegrump]

Charcoal Drawings - 20

Summary: You are an art student and are forced to take a life drawing class which will include nude modeling. One little problem, the model is super fucking hot.

Word Count: 1846

Warnings: Fluff, minor angst, smutty smut smut lol, unprotected sex wrap it before you tap it, oral f receiving

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F! Reader

A/n: i know i’m bad at writing smut but it ain’t gonna stop me. so sorry it’s bad

The art room was hot, even though it was December and the middle of winter, it was boiling. The heater was broken and Y/n wanted nothing more than to just call the whole thing off. To text Bucky and tell him not to bother because it was too hot to work. 

But she needed this drawing finished and they could’ve just done it at one of their places. . .If Y/n trusted herself in an empty apartment alone with Bucky Barnes while he’s naked. But she most certainly did not. And yes she was going to be alone with him while he’s naked anyway, but at least while they’re in the art room there’s the possibility of someone walking in on them.

Y/n shed most of her layers leaving her in a dark blue henley and her black leggings. But she was still sweating and the lights in the room were not helping the situation.

Bucky walked through the door and immediately groaned.

“God it’s fucking boiling in here,” he complained.

“Yeah well, this needs to get done and we have to do it here,” Y/n told him. She walked over to a window and cracked it hoping that would help. It barely did anything other than let in all the noise of the quad, and there was some protest or another so it filled the room with unpleasant noise so she closed it again.

Why they were staging a protest so late at night Y/n couldn’t say, but they were. 

Bucky was already in the robe and stood next to the platform where he posed. He was giving Y/n a look, she was too preoccupied with her own discomfort and annoyance to register the look he was giving her.

“You know I won’t mind if you wanted to take more layers off,” he said nonchalantly.

Y/n looked over at him while she tried to fan herself. “What?”

“If you wanted to take off more of your clothes, I won’t mind. It’s not like you’ll be any more naked than I will.”

“I’ll be fine,” she lied and sat down in front of her canvas. She had to keep reminding herself that he was just a friend, that he wasn’t interested in her like that but damn if she didn’t want to jump his bones.

“Suit yourself,” he muttered. Bucky dropped the robe and posed.

The charcoal piece that Y/n held in her hand smeared much more than usual so that both of her hands were covered in the black substance. She kept taking breaks to find a way to cool herself down before giving in and taking off her shirt. 

She was really only half paying attention to Bucky so she missed the lustful look that passed over his face when she stripped down to her bra. She left her leggings on because she felt that would’ve been too much.

“No music today?” Bucky asked.

“Stop moving,” she teasingly glared at him. “No, I was too uncomfortable to even think about music.”

“How do you feel now?”

Y/n measured a part of his body with her thumb before looking back to her drawing. “Fine, but now that you’ve pointed it out, I kind of want to play music.”

“So do it,” he told her. Y/n smiled at him and connected her phone to the Bluetooth speaker. “How long do you think this will take tonight?”

Y/n looked at him with wide eyes. “Do you have somewhere you need to be? Because I was planning on getting this done tonight. But if you have somewhere you need to be we can stop when you need to go. Of course, that means that we’ll have to set up another time to get this -”

“Y/n!” Bucky cut her off. “I was just wondering. I can stay as long as you need me.”

She let out a sigh of relief and gave him a grateful smile. “Ok good because I really want to get this done tonight.”

They fell back into silence, perfectly content to listen to the music. As Y/n lost herself in her project she began to sing along with the song that played.

She didn’t notice the small smile Bucky had on his face as he watched her work. He was trying to figure out how to tell her that he thought she was amazing. And not in the ‘we’re just friends’ way but in the ‘I might be falling in love with you’ way. 

“Sorry,” Y/n apologized stopping herself from singing.

“Don’t be, I don’t mind.”

“Ok, you need to stop moving your lips now, I’m working on your face,” she told him ignoring his comment.

Y/n always got flustered when she drew Bucky’s face. It always seemed like he was staring directly at her when he was modeling for her, whether that was in class or not.

“Ok,” Y/n put down her charcoal and rubbed her hands together beaming, “All done.”

“Can I see?”

She almost said no. But when she looked at him, he was looking at her with puppy dog eyes and she slowly nodded her head. She turned her head back to the picture as he got up and put the robe back on. She smugged part of his arm in the drawing as he walked up next to her.

“It’s really good,” he said.

“You’re just saying that because you’re the subject.”

“No, I’m not. I’ve seen plenty of drawings of me that are, quite frankly, ugly. It’s beautiful.”

But when Y/n turned to him, he wasn’t looking at the drawing. She turned her face away from him, suddenly very painfully aware of both of their clothing situations. But Bucky put his finger on her jaw and guiding her face to face him again.

He took a step closer to her and slowly leaned down. She knew what he was about to do, and she should stop it. It could make the next few classes awkward if he kept going. But she was a weak and selfish person so she didn’t do a damned thing to stop him.

His lips met hers in a hesitant kiss. Y/n stood, not pulling away in the slightest, and deepened the kiss. Bucky put his hands on her waist and pulled her body flush against his. Y/n cupped his neck with her charcoal covered hands then slid them down under the robe.

Bucky pulled away just enough to say, “it’s not fair that you still have pants on.”

Y/n grinned, she pulled her pants down and off her body. Bucky attached his lips to her neck as he unclasped her bra and kissed his way down to her breasts. She tugged on the bow of the robe to open it and Bucky let it drop to the floor.

“Bucky,” she moaned.

He placed his hands under her ass prompting her to jump and wrap her legs around his waist. He stumbled back over to the platform and laid her down. 

Bucky took one of her nipples in his mouth and sucked lightly as he hooked his fingers on her panties and slid them down her legs. He left a trail of sloppy wet kisses down her stomach then hovered over her heat. 

“James, please,” she begged, looking down at him. He looked up at her with a smirk.

His tongue flicked and rolled over her clit and he inserted a finger into her cunt. He moaned into her, the vibrations making her gasp.

“You’re already so wet for me,” he said. He thrust his finger in her a few more times before adding a second. “And you taste so fucking good.”

Y/n tangled her fingers in his hair, he sucked her clit into his mouth and in response, she pulled his hair.

“You have such a pretty pussy,” he told her pulling away for the briefest of moments.

“Fuck, Bucky!” She gasped loudly. Bucky’s free hand clasped down on her mouth.

He lifted his head. “Baby you gotta be quiet or someone might walk in.”

We should’ve just done this at one of our places, she scoffed at her previous careful planning.

She could feel her orgasm building up.

“James -” was the only word her brain could manage but he got the message.

He pulled away and removed his finger. She whimpered. Bucky licked his fingers clean and crawled up so his face was right above her.

“Y/n,” he whispered. He kissed her then nipped at her bottom lip.

Bucky teased her entrance with his tip. He slid into her slowly giving her time to adjust to him. She gripped his shoulders when he started thrusting she dragged her fingers down his back leaving dark streaks.

In fact, Bucky’s body was covered with charcoal streaks and spots, some darker than others. The marks were like a work of art itself. But Y/n still attached her lips to his neck and left a different kind of mark on the base of his neck.

Bucky’s thrusts were getting quicker and less rhythmic. He snuck his hand down to her clit and started rubbing circles into it.

“Jesus fucking Christ, James,” she said and repeated his name like a prayer.

Something about her saying his real name and not his nickname made him feral and he sped up. Y/n started getting louder so he kissed her to swallow her moans. She wrapped her arms around her, one hand digging into his back the other pulling his hair.

She gasped and pulled him closer to him as she came. Her orgasm triggered his, he thrust a few more times before collapsing on her barely able to hold his body weight up with arms on either side of Y/n’s body.

“Ok,” Y/n said breathlessly, “not how I saw tonight ending.”

She looked up into his eyes, she hoped he could see the question in her eyes as she was too chicken to say it out loud.

“Did you -” he swallowed and brushed his thumb over her cheek, “was that good for you?”

“Yeah,” she answered with a nod. She stared at him wide-eyed. “You?”

He smiled. “Yeah.”

“Cool.”

His smile widened and he pressed another kiss to her lips, it was slow and sweet. Too soon he pulled away.

“We should probably get up and leave,” Bucky whispered.

Y/n pouted as Bucky lifted himself off her. He offered her his hand to help her up. They got dressed quickly and once they were done Bucky waited around while Y/n packed up her art things.

“And to think I avoided doing this at one of our places because I knew if we did I’d try to jump your bones,” she said while shoving her things into her bag.

“And you ended up doing it anyway,” he teased.

She turned to him. “Excuse me? You clearly jumped my bones.”

Bucky shook his head and reached his hand towards her. “C’mon I’ll walk you home.”

[mileycyprus-hill]

How would Arthur react if male s/o is Doctor who take cares of everyone in the camp, and Hosea has been having bad cough fit and s/o doctor has been taking extra of Hosea and doing all his chores??? Something sweet and wholesome.

Thank you for requesting this! I couldn’t decide between headcanons or a one shot. So I hope you like this wholesome story. It is a reader insert but I also gave our doctor a last name, I hope you don’t mind.

This will also be my final fic I’ll write as I’ve decided to take a break from Tumblr. I apologize to anyone who has sent in matchup and fic requests, as those will be on hold. Updates on my series will be on hold too until I decide to come back.

Arthur Morgan x Male Doctor Reader

Warnings: none, just good ole fluff

——————-

“You need to rest, Hosea. Unless you want that cough to get any worse,” you say, placing your stethoscope back into your leather bag.

The gang felt blessed to finally be out of the cold mountains and back to green grass and warmer temperatures. Though the weather still felt frigid at Horseshoe Overlook at times, especially in the early morning hours before the sun rose.

Hosea buttons up the top buttons of his shirt before replying wth a slight hoarse, “I’ll be fine, Doctor Miller.” he says, holding back a cough. “Especially since I got you and Arthur watching over me at all times. I hardly believe I’ll keel over anytime soon.”

You can only chuckle in response. You do feel lucky to be a part of a family like the Van der Linde gang, a group of people so understanding, without judgement for the kind of man you are. Or for the man you’re currently with.

You state warmly, “Well, Arthur ain’t here so it’ll just be me making sure you don’t keel over...Nevertheless, I request that you stay off your feet and rest for at least a couple days. Anything that needs doing, you can just send over to me.”

With a chuckle, Hosea replies, “Rest? You know I—”

He’s soon cut off by a stern glare from you. You would rather not put the man through a lecture right now.

Hosea nods, “Alright. Fine,” he says with his hands up in defeat.

———-

It was a tough 3 days without Arthur around. Everyone came to you with some sort of injury: bullet wounds, knife cuts, sprained ankles and joints that needed to be popped back into place. Not to mention the additional work you took on to relieve Hosea.

On the third day, as the sun went down, you collapsed on your bed inside your little tent. Your heavy leather bag clunked as you dropped it on the ground before dropping to your knees and plopping onto your bed roll. Your eyelids fell shut as soon as your head hit your pillow.

You didn’t even hear the thundering hoofbeats riding to camp, just several yards away from your tent.

Arthur quickly dismounts his horse before hitching it to the post. He’ll take all of the tack off later, he thinks to himself. Maybe he ask Kieran to do it. Because right now all he wants is to see you.

Where are you? He wonders. The sun has only just begin to set and he has so much he wants to tell you about. His eyes scan the camp and he sees no sign of you, which is odd. You’re always up and about, tending to the gang. Perhaps Jack has you preoccupied somewhere regarding a tummy ache or a splinter.

Arthur chuckles at the thought.

As he peruses through camp looking for you, he’s constantly reminded of how much you care for the gang: John’s cuts appear to have been recently cleaned and checked for broken stitches, Pearson’s cut finger is tenderly bandaged, and Hosea rests in his tent with a bottle of cough medicine on the table beside him.

“Hosea,” Arthur greets him. Hosea breaks his focus on his novel and looks up at Arthur, already guessing what he’s about to ask.

“Doctor Miller’s in his tent, I believe.” Hosea says.

Arthur smirks bashfully at how well Hosea can read him.

He asks the old man, “Why so early? Is everythin’ alright?”

He suddenly feels worried. If there was anyone like Arthur when it came to overworking, it was you. You had a hard time following your own advice and would work yourself sick.

If it wasn’t for Arthur, you wouldn’t be here right now. That rugged outlaw saved your life from the angry mob runnning you out of town and burning your establishment. Throughout your life, you had to hide who you were. Living behind a mask to appease the backward-thinkers of the small town you presided in. But Arthur? He accepted you for who you were, because he was the same.

That was a year ago now and your life has never been the same. In fact, it was better.

Arthur already begins to step towards your tent as Hosea replies, “He’s alright. Just tired. I don’t think the man slept since you first left. He’d been so busy lately.”

Hosea’s voice grows faint as Arthur steps towards your tent, cursing himself for not checking there in the first place.

He steps in and holds back a small chuckle at the sight of you, laying exhausted on your stomach in an army crawl. Moving your bag out of the way, Arthur kneels down beside you.

You’re quickly roused from your sleep at Arthur’s presence and nearly leap off your bedroll.

“Oh no! Have I fallen asleep? Did I see Dutch yet? What time is it?” You blurt, ready to get back outside. Arthur shushes by pressing a hand to your chest.

“It’s alright, it’s alright. It’s nearly 7:00.” Arthur coos.

“In the morning?!” You ask, worried you had slept the whole night away.

With a deep laugh, Arthur answers, “No, P-M. What’s got you so worried anyway?”

He keeps his palm pressed to your chest, making sure you lay back down and raises his other hand to your shoulder, rubbing it gently.

Those hands that reached out to you in the dark that night you first met him. Those hands that pulled you up onto Arthur’s horse with their iron grip, and held you close as you rode off into safety. Yes, those very same hands that give you the security you craved for so long. The same hands connected to those hefty arms that wrap around you at night, letting you sleep soundly without worry. Except of course, for those O’Driscolls that lurk out there...those are your only worry now.

With a tired sigh, you explain everything. How Hosea’s been feeling under the weather and you took it upon yourself to do his work in addition to yours.

Arthur breathes a sigh alongside you, taking off his hat and running his fingers through his thick hair.

“I wish you wouldn’t volunteer like that. Thought by know you’d learn your lesson in taking on too much work.” Arthur says, taking off his boots and getting comfortable.

“That’s rich, coming from you. Mr. Workhorse.” You chide.

Realizing his own hypocrisy, Arthur scoffs lightheartedly, “Well, I got you to look after me.”

He turns to you with those ocean eyes, glistening despite the lack of light.

“That’s twice now I’ve heard that...from two people,” you state, “Question is, who’s looking after me?”

His expression changes to a mix of confusion and hurt while his gaze on you doesn’t falter.

“Well...me, of course.” He replies. “You know that.”

“Yes, sorry....I know.” You say, looking away in embarrassment at your self-pity.

Arthur leans closer, his warmth permeating through his clothes as he gently grasps your chin to turn you back to him.

He stares for a moment, almost reluctant to speak before his chapped lips finally open.

“I love you, (Y/N).” he whispers, “I’ll always take care of you.”

Your heart flutters at his words. It wasn’t the first time he’s said it, and you know it will never be the last.

“I love you too.” You repeat, before accepting his kiss upon your lips.

[mournthewicked]

Electic Moves--Montgomery Scott x Reader (ToS/AoS compatible)

This is the LONGEST insert I have ever written holy MOLEY. Here it is at a whopping 5,423 words. I mostly wrote this with ToS!Scotty in mind but I think it also works for both ToS and AoS! I’ll also pop this up on Ao3. Fic is based off my favorite band The Orion Experience and their song Electric Moves

Warnings: Kissing

Electric Moves

“Alright that’s the last of the wires!” you yelled to your superior wiping your safety glasses clean of debris.

“Alrigh’ let me take a look at ‘em,” Montgomery Scott said, crouching next to you. He examined the junctions of the circuit boards and nodded in approval. “Not bad…not bad at all Lieutenant. No bubbles… joints are solid. This soldering is better than some of my own. Must be those steady medical hands.” He winked at you and you put your safety glasses back on to conceal a blush.

“Thank you Mr. Scott,” you replied.

“Lass, I’ve told you already just call me Scotty. Don’t make me order you now,” he joked.

“Sorry. Thank you Scotty,” you put your tools back in the small box and hand it back to the older man. His hand brushed over yours as he takes it from you making your breath hitch.

“No thank you for lending us a hand down here. Doctor McCoy said you were a fast learner but neglected to tell me you were a near genius with mechanics. I ought to have a word with him, keeping a talented lass like you all to him—_______, you alrigh’?”

Scotty must have noticed your face morphing into a deep red from underneath your goggles. You run the back of your hand across your forehead, hoping he’d buy the redness from the heat down in the engineering room.

“Yeah I’m…I’m fine just warm. Goodness how do you live like this down here all the time? It’s hotter than Vulcan!” You exclaimed, earning a chuckle from Scotty.

“Well I s’pose we just get used to it eventually, ain’t that right Kern?” A man slightly younger than Scotty nods in agreement, through you’re pretty sure he didn’t hear what Scotty asked. “Well I think we’re all done down here. Thank you again. It was an absolute pleasure having you down here. I hope we’ll see each other soon.”

He held his hand out to you and you took his surprisingly gentle hand in your own. “Any time, Scotty. It was an honor working on her.”

“Her?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“It! Her—uh the Enterprise!” You ran your hands over your face. Surely your blush was obvious by now.

Scotty belted out a hearty laugh. “Lass, I thought I was the only one who referred to the ship as a lady, other than the Captain of course.”

“Well—yeah it’s like in those old stories about sea mariners and pirates and even in early space exploration. Their ships were always referred to as female so I just kind of let it slip into my vocabulary. Besides,” you gestured to the warp core. “The Enterprise is like a human being. She has a heart, a circulatory system, a brain…All sorts of anatomy. It’s just made of metal.”

Scotty looked at you full of admiration. “Lieutenant _______ I believe you and I are going to get along quite well.”

You turned to him and smiled. “I sure hope so Scotty.”

The next few days you doubled back and forth as both Assistant Medical Officer and engineer. Though most of your time was spent in med bay assisting Doctor McCoy with patients and testing, you also assisted Scotty with warp core diagnostics and repairing small details on the lower decks. You grew fond of the crew down below becoming friends with Ensigns Kern and Russell but your admiration mostly resided with Scotty. If fact, your admiration was becoming even more: each time you passed him your heart would speed up and you could feel yourself going red. Your stomach flipped and your knees weakened and if your eyes met his, oh stars your words would catch in your throat and you could barely keep yourself from stammering. Eventually, though your heart still raced when he got too close, you managed to get used to his sweet conversations about the starship and his daily life.

Two weeks after the two of you met Captain Kirk announced there would be a week-long shore leave after a recent encounter with Harry Mudd left the Enterprise in disarray and in need of refueling.

“Can’t believe we nearly lost the ship in a bet. Mudd would have had us floating through the galaxy if you hadn’t gotten that gauge recalibrated Mr. Scott,” Bones said as he stepped off the landing pad and onto the Federation sanctioned planet.

“Aye, but I can’t take all the credit Doctor. In fact it was your assistant who wrote the equation. She’s the real star of the show,” Scotty said clapping a hand on your shoulder.

“Well Lieutenant, seems like we owe you a drink or two,” Bones said.

“That’s very kind of you but I plan on curling up with a good book and working on some small projects I’ve been meaning to get done during leave,” you replied.

“Ach lass you have to take a bit of a break. You’ve been working plenty,” Scotty said.

“Thank you Scotty but I’m going to sit this one out.”

“I understand,” he replied. You didn’t catch the sadness in his eyes as you turned to head to your hotel room. “It won’t be the same without you!” He called after you.

You turned around and threw him a dazzling smile. “Enjoy your evening gentlemen!” You responded with a mock bow and disappeared into the crowd.

As soon as you were out of sight Bones turned to Scotty. “You really have it bad for her, don’t you?”

Scotty scoffed at the doctor. “I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean!”

Bones rolled his eyes and retorted, “Oh please. ‘It won’t be the same without you’?”

“Well I simply meant we would miss her.”

“You’ve been looking at her like a lovesick teenager. It’s sickening,” Bones responded. The two of them began to walk to a small diner, serving refreshments from different parts of the galaxy. “One bourbon and a scotch on me.”

“Doctor you aren’t going to get me drunk and have me spill my secrets.” Scotty said as a Betazonian male placed his drink in front of him.

“You don’t need to spill anything it’s written all over your face. You get all goo goo eyed with her. Nurse Chapel noticed it, Uhura noticed it, hell, even Spock has mentioned how you’ve been talking about her nonstop.”

Scotty sighed and took a sip of his scotch. He ran his hand through his chestnut hair for a moment before saying, “I don’t know what to do McCoy. She’s on my mind constantly. Working, off duty, hell even in my dreams. The first day when she came down to work on the circuitry she was so kind and sweet, a wee shy too, but she’s also smart and creative. The way she figured out the equation to save our ship was incredible!”

“Then what seems to be the trouble, Mr. Scott? You aren’t technically her reporting officer so there aren’t any regulations against it.”

“That’s not the problem I just…I don’t want to make her feel uncomfortable. She’s a quiet woman and she hasn’t made any indication that she wants to pursue anything outside of work. I, well, I don’t even know if she considers me a friend,” saying that out loud broke Scotty’s heart and McCoy could see it on his face.

Bones waved the bartender over and ordered another round for his friend. “Listen Scotty, I’m a doctor not a love expert. But I do know my assistant pretty well and she talks about you a lot. She sings your praises. Hell, she’s been spending more time with you than in her own office. The girl likes you she’s just too shy to make the first move.”

Scotty shook his head in doubt and McCoy sighed. “Come on Scotty. Let’s finish up our drinks and we can talk about this some other time. I know Jim was thinking about going to a little hole in the wall club of some sort and I’m going to need someone to help carry his miserable behind back when he out drinks himself.”

Scotty stared into his glass and said, “Aye.”

 ***

Meanwhile you began to unpack your shore leave bag, distracted by Scotty’s words.

‘It won’t be the same without you.’ What could he mean by that? He’s never been out with me before, heck I’ve never been out with anyone on the starship before. Could it be that he had hoped I would come out?

“This is all so confusing!” You yelled to yourself, throwing down a towel. “Stupid feelings.”

You flopped on your bed and stared at the pastel purple ceiling weighing your options. You could continue to pine after Scotty in secret, watching him as he eventually fell in love with someone else and—no that felt awful. You could tell him how you feel, get rejected, and never be able to work in the same room with him—that felt even worse.

You sat on the edge of your bed and sighed. You needed to do something to keep your mind off Scotty. The clock on the computer on your desk flashed 20:00.

“Computer, what is there to do on this planet during the evenings?” You asked. The computer whirred to life, ticking with calculations.

“Sources for entertainment near your current location. There are six bars within walking distance. Two are karaoke bars, three are exotic stripping clubs, and one is a dance club.”

A dance club? You thought excitedly. It’s been so long since I’ve been dancing. “Who’s performing at the dance club? Anyone good?”

The computer whirred again before stating: “Popular intergalactic band The Orion Experience will be performing live throughout your shore leave.”

“Thank you Computer. That is all,” you said and the computer powered down. You sat on the edge of your bed staring at your luggage in front on you. If I’m going to do this, I’m going all out tonight.

You sprung up in excitement and grabbed your bag. “Screw sadness, screw the rules, I’m about to be Cinderella at the ball.”

An hour and a half later you checked yourself out in the mirror. You purchased two dresses, your choice for this evening was a jeweled emerald green dress that stopped mid-thigh and white boots. You even splurged on some makeup and changed your hair. At a glance you could barely recognize yourself.

Shooting a wink at your reflection you strutted out of your room and out the door not even noticing the three Starfleet officers you passed on the street.

***

“Mr. Scott, Bones is right. You need to just come right out and say it. Quick, like a band aid. It will be over in a minute.” Captain Kirk tried to persuade the Scotsman.

“Thank you, Captain, for the sage advice. And thank you Doctor McCoy for telling the Captain about my personal affairs, I greatly appreciate it,” Scotty replied with a glare to the brunette.

McCoy rolled his eyes. “Well I’m sorry but I wasn’t going to let you look like a depressed Sehlat the whole shore leave.”

“I do not look like a depressed Sehlat!” exclaimed Scotty. Bones and Kirk stared at him intensely and he relented. “Gentlemen, I thank you for support. But I’m an old man—much older than __________. And she should be with someone else her age. As beautiful as she is, finding someone else wouldn’t be a problem.” Scotty’s eyes began misty and he blinked back tears.

Kirk clapped a hand on his friends shoulder. “Now Mr. Scott there will be no tears tonight. The night is young and there is a bar just down the streets with all sort of intergalactic alcohol. Let’s forget about our problems even if it’s just for the night.”

But I don’t want to forget about her. Mr. Scott thought to himself, but he knew voicing his opinion would get drowned out by his two friends. “Aye, where are we going lads?”

“Well,” Kirk began rubbing his hands together. “I thought we would check out that bar I was telling Bones about earlier. I���ve heard that they have these dancers that—“

Kirk was cut off as a woman walked past in a short green dress and white boots. The three men stared after her as she sashayed out the door into the crowd.

“Jim…who was that?” McCoy asked staring after her.

“I’m…not sure. I don’t recall ever seeing her before,” Kirk replied.

“She has to be on the Enterprise though. This hotel was booked for us by Starfleet and no other ships are docked so it’s just us,” Scotty said.

“She couldn’t be a Romulan spy could she?” McCoy asks.

“A Romulan, spy or not, would never—could never—have that strut in their step. Especially in those shoes,” Kirk responded.

“Of all things you could comment on you mention her footwear?” Bones joked.

“Of all the things I could comment on her shoes were the most appropriate. Do you have anything to add Doctor McCoy?”

“Not at all, Jim.”

“Good,” Kirk began to follow the woman but was stopped by Scotty.

“You don’t plan on following her do you?” He asked.

“Scotty, the three of us have no idea who she is and we know our crew better than anyone else. Whoever she is, she’s obviously gotten through our security systems and we need to know how. Besides aren’t you two a little curious to see who she is?”

Scotty sighed for what seemed to be the hundredth time that day and he followed his two friends through the street after the mysterious, and yet oddly familiar, stranger.

The bar pulsed with the beat of the band and you were bumping and grinding your way through the crowd. You felt different, alive, on the dance floor. A cheer went through the crowd as you spun through a dance circle. Each move was filled you with energy, you were electrified by the music and you sang out with the rest of the crowd.

“Somebody told me, you got electric moves. Out on the floor you’re like lightening striking,” you sang off key with everyone as the band went into the final chorus. You turned again as the song began to transition to another but froze mid step as you spotted McCoy, Kirk, and Scotty staring in your direction whispering to themselves. You made eye contact with the chief engineer for a brief second, both confusion and recognition evident in his eyes. He slowly got off his chair and began to walk towards you, startling you out of your trance. You turned your back towards him and ran out the door.

***

The three men sat down at bar scoping the dance floor for the mysterious woman.

“You sure she went into this one Jim?” McCoy asked the blond sipping a drink.

“Positive. Keep your eye out for anything suspicious,” Kirk said surveying the dance floor. “Mr. Scott, have you given any more thought to what Bones and I were saying earlier.”

“Now Captain, I told you I don’t want to pursue anything—“ he was cut off by a cheer and applause on the dance floor.

“There Jim! She’s over there,” McCoy exclaimed. The three men stared in her direction, watching as she danced sensually, hands in the air laughing and stomping her foot to the beat.

“She looks familiar. I just can’t put my finger on it,” Kirk said. McCoy and Scotty nodded fixated on the woman. She did one final turn as the song transitioned into a new one but, as she looked in their direction she froze.

“It can’t be…” Bones mumbled.

“Is that…Lieutenant ___________?” Kirk asked still staring at her.

Scotty watched her intently as they maintained eye contact. It was _________ there was no doubt in his mind. Seeing her with such fire in her soul was intimidating, there was no doubt about that. She radiated confidence and seeing her with such energy made Scotty’s heart swell in infatuation. Clenching his fists, Scotty knew he had to take a chance or he was going to have a heart attack. Taking a deep breathe he stood up, knees weak not from the alcohol but from the nerves. He steadied himself and began to approach her gaining confidence with each step. However about ten steps in the woman who held his soul broke eye contact and ran out the door, leaving the shattered pieces of his heart where she last stood.

***

Morning hit you like a Bat’leth; your mouth was dry and every vibrant color of the wall sent a wave of nausea through your body. The headache you had was unsurmountable and you grabbed the hypo you left on the table and injected it. Moments later your headache was gone and your nausea was slightly more manageable.

You revisited the events of last night grinning s the memories came back to you. You looked at the dress that was discarded on top of your suitcase with a fond grin, eagerly thinking about the second number you had waiting for tonight. However your feelings of excitement were smothered as soon as you remembered who saw at the bar watching you. McCoy. Kirk. Scotty.

“Oh my God,” you cried out to yourself putting your head in your hands as you tried to erase that memory from your mind.

They must have thought I looked ridiculous, you thought. I made such a fool of myself. Tears pricked at your eyes and you tried to will them away. Even though you knew none of them would make fun of you—well McCoy might tease you but you could handle him—you knew it would impact how the other two would look at you. If there was a black hole close enough you would jump right into it.

Your stomach growled and decided to get something to eat to keep your mind off of everything. Throwing on your blue Starfleet uniform you walked across the street into a diner. Beings of different races, genders, and ages sat throughout the establishment and were even peppered with Enterprise officers and crew.

Walking to your table you heard the voice of someone you didn’t want to hear: Captain Kirk.

“Lieutenant _________! Come have a seat with us,” he said.

You sighed and though you could have rejected his proposal you also wanted to have a moment to explain yourself—to explain you didn’t always look so uncoordinated and dramatic.

“Good morning Captain, gentlemen,” you nodded to McCoy and Scotty as you sat beside the latter. He didn’t greet you with the usual smile he always had around you. In fact he didn’t greet you at all.

“We were just discussing this woman that we saw dancing last night. It really was something else,” Kirk said.

Oh God here it comes, you thought to yourself.

“She was fantastic, _________, you should have seen her. She had this control over the floor. It was almost supernatural,” McCoy exclaimed. “At first glance we thought she was you,”

You nearly choked on your water. “You thought she was me?” They didn’t realize it was me?

“We certainly did. Then Scotty said you planned on working on some projects during shore leave,” Kirk replied. “How did they turn out?”

“O-oh. Fine. They weren’t anything too difficult,” you replied, relieved.

“And your reading? How was that?” Scotty asked bitterly.

You were taken aback by the harshness in his voice. “It was…fine I guess. Scotty are you—“

“I’m fine Lieutenant __________,” Scotty said. Kirk and McCoy exchanged looks as Scotty got up from the table. “Lads I have some work that I need to catch up on so I’m going to head back to my room. Have a good day.”

The three of you watched as Scotty left the diner without as much as a goodbye to you. You looked down at your plate of food that was just served suddenly nauseous again.

“What the hell was that all about?” McCoy asked in shock.

“I have no idea,” Kirk replied. “But I intend to find out.” He and McCoy followed the Scot out the door leaving you behind, your food hardly touched as tears welled in your eyes.

***

“Scotty! Hey Scotty!” McCoy pounded on the door to the Chief Engineer’s room. “Open up we know you’re in there.”

“Step aside Bones,” Kirk said, punching an override code. The doors slid open to Scotty’s room revealing the Scot seated at his table a bottle of scotch in hand.

“Hello lads, I wonder what brings you here?” Scotty asked sardonically, taking a hearty swig of his drink.

“You know very well what brings us here Scotty. What the hell is your problem? You’ve been in a crappy mood since we got back to the hotel last night and now you’re taking it out on _________?” McCoy asked, arms crossed over his chest. Kirk watched Scotty, slowly putting pieces of the puzzle together.

“I don’t feel like answering that question, Dr. McCoy. Frankly I don’t want to discuss anything with anyone. I wish to be left alone with my scotch,” Scotty said.

Captain Kirk sat at the table to level himself with Scotty. “Scotty,” he said. “Mr. Scott, look at me.”

Scotty sighed and turned to Captain Kirk. Kirk studied him for a brief moment.

“We were right weren’t we Mr. Scott?” Kirk asked softly and put a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

McCoy looked between the two. “Right about what, Jim?”

“The woman at the bar last night. It was Lieutenant __________, wasn’t it?” Jim asked.

Scotty stared at the Captain for a long time before whispering, “Aye.”

The three men waited in silence, waiting for someone to say something. The room was filled with nothing but the ambience of chatter in the halls and the echo of Scotty’s affirmation.

“She ran from me,” Scotty said mournfully.

Kirk nodded.

“Why? Why would she run?” Scotty asked.

“I can’t answer that for you, Scotty,” Kirk said.

Scotty stood up and walked to the window, looking out at the city below. Midday had approached by then, the sun high up in the cyan sky. “I don’t know what I was thinking going up to her. She was having the time of her life dancing and singing. What would she want with an old fool like me?”

“That’s horseshit,” McCoy said, going over to Scotty.

“Bones…” Kirk warned.

“No, Jim I have to say it. Scotty what you’re saying is pure horseshit and you know it. You’re making assumptions and that’s all you’ve done this whole time. Have you even talked to ________ about your feelings yet? I bet you haven’t and I guarantee you have her feeling like complete crap after the way you ignored her this morning.”

Scotty contemplated everything his friend said, knowing he was right. He hasn’t talked to ________ since they docked and not giving her a chance to explain herself wasn’t fair.

“But why would she run from us. From me?” Scotty asked.

“Hell if I know. Maybe she was embarrassed that we saw her, you know how shy she is. And I’m not saying what she did was excusable, but dammit talk to her. Ask her why she ran away and tell her how you feel. Because if you don’t you’re going to lose any chance to have with her, and that will be a damn shame,” McCoy said.

Scotty nodded his head, understanding that everything McCoy was saying was tough love. “Do…do you have anything to add, Captain?”

Captain Kirk waved his hands innocently. “No…no I do believe Bones covered it all.”

Scotty grabbed some glasses from his cabinet and poured drinks for the three of them. “Well then let’s have a drink shall we? And then…well then I’m going to go make a visit to ________’s quarters.”

***

You wrapped your hair in a towel as you stepped out of the shower and threw on some loungewear. Your hangover was completely gone by now but in its place was a heavy heart. You messed up really bad, running away from him last night and then not explaining yourself this morning. You looked at the dress laid out on your bed and sighed, debating whether or not you still wanted to go out when you heard a knock on the door.

“Who is it?” You called out.

“It’s Scotty. May I come in lass?” He asked.

You nearly tripped over yourself running to the door, pressing the button to open the door to let him in.

“Mr. Scott, good evening,” you said hoping the waver in your voice wasn’t as prominent as you thought.

“Back to calling me Mr. Scott are we?” He asked gruffly as he stepped inside.

You winced at his tone. “Sorry…Scotty—“

“I was joking _________,” he said with a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Oh.” The two of you stood in silence trying to figure out what to say next. Moment’s passed, then you two both began at once.

“Lass, I—“

“I’m sorry.”

The two of you looked at each other at the same time before letting out nervous laughs.

“You’re sorry?” Scotty asked in slight confusion.

You nodded. “Yes I…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have run from you. I didn’t…I didn’t want anyone to see me dancing and I was so embarrassed when I saw you…” You were so overwhelmed with everything your lip began to tremble.

“Now, now ________, don’t you start crying,” Scotty said as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to his chest. “You have nothing to be sorry for, this is my fault. I jumped to conclusions.”

You allowed yourself to be held by him for a moment, relished breathing in his scent of scotch and oak, and savored the feeling of his one hand stroking your hair while his other hand rubbed circles on your waist.

After a moment you pulled back to look him in his eyes. “Jumped to conclusions?” You asked.

Scotty took a deep breath and took your hands in his. “Yes I…I may have thought you didn’t want to have a dance with me. Thought that you thought the idea would be repulsive.”

Your hand flew to your mouth. He was going to ask me for a dance?  “I thought you were going to tell me that I looked ridiculous,” you confessed.

Scotty’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Now why in heavens would I do that?” He exclaimed.

“I mean…I probably did look ridiculous flailing around like I was,” you said.

Scotty laughed. “You looked nothing of the sort. You…you were incredible! You dance beautifully, hell McCoy and Kirk didn’t even recognize you until I told them today. We thought you were a spy.”

“A spy?” You shout in laughter.

“You have to admit you looked a lot different last night.”

You chuckled and nodded. “I certainly did.”

You two stood in silence for another moment. “Why would you think I wouldn’t dance with you?” You asked.

Scotty sighed, “It was a little foolish of me. I’m so much older than you are—“

“Not by that much,” you cut in.

“But still old enough. I thought you were repulsed by the thought of it. I should have known better,” he said.

“Scotty, I would have very much liked to have danced with you had I not run away,” you said placing a hand on his cheek.

He put his hand over yours, rubbing it slightly. “________ I believe we both are foolish.”

You nodded in agreement your eyes captured in his gaze.

“I—also was going to tell you something last night.” Scotty said hesitantly.

You nodded for him to go on.

“Seeing you dancing there—every time I see you as a matter of fact—I get so overwhelmed in your beauty. That day you first came into engineering you were just a ray of sunshine without saying anything. Then you finished those wires and talked to me and I thought I was going to pass out. You talk about the Enterprise like she was your child and I know you can’t see the way your eyes light up when you talk about her but I do and it can make even Klingons blush. You can imagine what it does to my heart.” Scotty paused to take a breath and you could feel your heart racing.

“_________, I know this might be wishful thinking but I need to tell you that I like you. That I am falling head over heels for you. And I don’t intend on making you feel uncomfortable in any way regardless of how you answer my question. If you want to just be friends and never speak of this again I will. If you want me to leave you alone for the rest of our time on the Enterprise together I will. I just want to ask if maybe you would like to go out with me?”

Your breath hitched head absolutely spinning with every word he said.

“Scotty,” you began. “I would like it very much if you would kiss me.”

A chuckle of relief escaped Scotty as he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you in for a gentle kiss. It was neither long nor short, just enough for the two of you to lose yourselves in each other’s touch of your lips.

You both pulled away, light blushes on your cheeks.

“I would love to go out with you Montgomery Scott,” you told him.

Scotty was so overjoyed that he let out a boisterous laugh and hugged you, lifting you a few inches off the ground.

You laughed, body feeling like it weighed only feathers.

“Would you like to go on a date right now?” You asked boldly. “I was thinking about going to the dance club again.”

“Now how could I pass up dancing with the most beautiful woman in the universe?” Scotty said, pecking your cheek.

You blushed, realizing you would never get used to being showered with complements. “Wait here,” you said. “I’m going to change.”

“You could always change right here.” Scotty joked, laughing as your face turned crimson. “I’m teasing you. Go ahead and get ready.”

You shook your head and grabbed your dress of your bed. “Go ahead and sit down. I’ll be right out.”

Scotty sat down and waited in anticipation. He took in all the details of your hotel room wondering what kind of stuff you kept in your room on the Enterprise. He saw your dress from last night peeking out from your suitcase and he chuckled thinking about the last twenty-four hours. You were his; he was yours even with how ridiculous you both acted.

A few moments later, you poked your head out the door. “Hey Scotty, would you mind zipping me up?” You asked holding the front of your dress up.

Scotty looked at you, mouth open in shock. Your hair and makeup were styled the same way you did yesterday but the dress was different. It was a dark blue glittery dress with three quarter sleeves. The dress was short in the front and long in the back and flared out beautifully. You wore black pumps with it.

“Scotty?” You asked, snapping him out of his trance.

“Sorry lass, you just…you look stunning.” Scotty said as he walked over to you.

You turned and he slowly zipped up your dress his fingers occasionally brushing against your skin, leaving your skin burning where he touched you.

Once zipped, Scotty kissed the nape of your neck making you go weak in your knees. You turned to him and pulled him in for a searing, passionate kiss. His hands pulled you tight, dipping you slightly, and ran them across your back. You ran your hands through his mahogany hair gasping slightly at his desperation. He took that moment to slide his tongue in your mouth increasing the passion of the kiss.

The two of you pulled away after a moment, blushes evident in your faces.

“I do believe you owe me a dance.” Scotty whispered to you.

You smiled and pulled him towards the door. “I certainly do. I believe we have time to finish this later if you want?”

“For you, my love, I have all the time in the world.” Scotty said, squeezing your hand as you led him to the club.

We believe in love, and love saves the day—The Orion Experience

[babbushka]

Two’s Company (3/5)

1989 and New York City is a mess. Life was shit for all but you and Pale, who found that among the rubble and rubbish, there existed peace and calm and hard hot fucking. That is, until, an unwanted visitor makes themselves known, throwing this happy dream into a tumultuous nightmare.

Pale x Reader ; Chapter 3 of my sequel to Blue Moon!

Word count: 7.3k ; Warnings: Angst, drug mention, minor violence

                                                   ---------------

You almost wanted to laugh when you saw her.

Almost.

Not because she’s funny, just because she’s almost exactly how you pictured her. She’s standing at the door, at his door, at your door, in a long brown fur coat, hair teased to high heavens, pearl necklace around her neck and pretty white heels on her feet. She’s standing there smokin’ a Virginia Slims, has it stuck between her two fingers that are manicured and polished with long red acrylics.

She may have moved to Miami, but she was still very much a Jersey woman.

A Jersey woman who, while neither in Jersey or Miami, was standing there, at the door, staring you down.

“That’s right, I’m his fucking wife.” She sneered, shifted her weight back and forth making her hips bob up and down like she’s hot shit. She appraised you, looked down on you up up up in those heels of hers, smoked her cigarette. “And what are you, his whore?”

Well, you thought, Jersey women have nothin’ on the women from Queens.

“Yeah,” You said, stepping around Pale from where you had been holdin’ him back, stepping around him and stepping into her space, crowding her, teeth bared at her, “I am his whore.”

Her eyebrows shot up at that, not expecting you to be proud of it. But how could you not? How could you be anything other than proud of Pale, of your man? You’d shout it off the fire escape for all the city to hear, you didn’t give a shit.

She looks like she’s distraught then, right in that moment, and she barreled further into the apartment, threw herself down onto the couch in the living room. You wanted to scoff because fuck, you’ve never seen someone acting so badly, crocodile tears running mascara down her cheeks.

“God, Jim, did you have to stoop so low? I leave you for what, three years? And you stoop this low.” She wailed and wailed, loud and mighty, accent thick and voice pitched high, “Shacking up with some tramp, how much do you pay her huh? How much does she get for suckin’ your cock?”

And just like that the tears are gone, replaced with the hard stare of a woman scorned.

Your patience had worn out, officially drained at the accusation, the assumption, and you marched over to the living room, yanked her off of your couch by her ankle, sent her crashing to the floor with a sharp, hey!

“Nothin! He gives me nothing! And I don’t ask for anything unlike you!” You shouted, losing it, losing your patience. You had been having such a good fucking day, such a wonderful fucking evening, before she crashed it and ruined it like she did everything else. You had never even met this woman, and she had already ruined everything.

“Unlike you I love this man. I love him more than you ever fucking did, could, or would. I chose him and he chose me and I love him. I don’t go abandonin’ him for three fuckin’ years – do you even hear the words comin’ outta your mouth?” You snapped, all in her face, and she’s standing again, scrambling to not let you have the upper hand.

She jabbed you in the shoulder again and again, antagonizing you, and you only could grit your teeth.

“Oh yeah right you love him, bullshit. Bullshit, how much is he paying you?” She demanded to know, hysterical, absolutely hysterical.

“I’m not a fucking prostitute!” You didn’t know how many times you were going to have to fucking explain it, but you were getting sick of trying. “And you know what, even if I were, I’d have more dignity than you.”

You almost didn’t register it when she slapped you, hard across the face with those nails of hers. All you knew was that you were on the floor, a stinging burning pain already numbing your cheek.

Without a second fucking thought, you swiped her leg, sent her crashing down to the ground, and an all-out brawl began.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had to fight someone, the last you had ever even thought about fighting someone. It had to have been in high school, had to have been years ago. But like most things in life, it all came rushin’ back when you needed it, when you had to put up your fists and defend yourself. And it was defending yourself, but it was more than that – it was defending your man.

Your man, who, was standing stunned for all of one minute before inserting himself into the middle of where the two of you were goin’ after one another.

“Hey get the fuck off of her!” He pried Barbara away from you, grabbed at the back of her neck and hoisted her up like she was some feral cat, “Why are you here – where are the kids?”

“They’re still in Florida you piece of shit, God, how’d I know I’d find you like this?” Barbara was out of breath, panting, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand to smear away some blood from where you had clocked her pretty good.

You were still on the floor, and Pale unceremoniously dropped his seething wife to come to your aid. He crouched down next to you, so tender, hands all over you to check for serious damage. You could feel the sharp sting of scratches from her nails, and your scalp hurt where she had yanked on your hair, but other than that, the most overwhelming thing was the adrenaline thudding thudding thudding in your ears, in your brain.

“You don’t get to fucking call him that, not after what you did to him.” You said, voice hoarse and angry, so angry for him, for Pale.

“What I did?” Barbara scoffed, already reaching into her purse and pulling out a fancy golden compact, checking her appearance.

“Yeah, what you did, you cunt.” You scoffed right back, absolutely fucking incredulous at this woman, at the gall of her, the nerve of her. Pale helped you stand up, and you indelicately re-tied your robe, concealing your body from where the sash had come undone in the scuffle, all the while continuing, “You think I don’t know? You think I didn’t find out about all the shit you did to him, said to him, made him do?”

“Jimmy didn’t do nothin’ he didn’t want to do.” Barbara shook his head and that’s when Pale decided to speak up again.

“That’s a fuckin’ lie and you know it.” And now he’s shouting, now he’s angry angry angry, and you sigh, because fuck all you had wanted for tonight was for him to relax, him to enjoy himself. “What do you want from me, how come you’ve been blowin’ up my fuckin’ phone this whole goddamned time?”

“I thought it’d be obvious you jackass, I’m here to take you back!” Barbara shouted, leaving both you and Pale speechless.

You looked at one another, and then at her, and then back at one another, both of your mouths agape.

“…What?” Pale asked, not even angry, not even yelling, just…so fucking confused.

You were both so confused.

You needed a drink to deal with this, needed something.

Without another word, you left to go into the kitchen, to rummage around for a bottle of whiskey and two clean glasses. Barbara and Pale were still arguing in the living room, but thanks to the new modern open plan design, you were still privy to all of it.

“Yeah, you know. I’m here to bring you back home.” Barbara tried explaining to an only dumbfounded Pale.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” He asked, asked seriously, like he was worried she had hit her head too hard when you had knocked her to the ground.

“Pale is home.” You tried getting that through her thick skull, but that only started up the yelling again.

“Pale Pale Pale!” She shouted, yelled, snapped, spit, “That’s not his fucking name, his name is James, Jimmy if you’re friendly – if you’re his wife.” She was close to hysterics again and you were genuinely worried that the cops were gonna get called, that the neighbors were gonna file a noise complaint.

You had half a mind to call the cops yourself, but no, there was too much drug shit out in the open, and that could get the both of yous in trouble. So you poured the drinks instead, handed a shakin’ glass to Pale who downed nearly half the cup in one big gulp.

“Yeah well you ain’t my fuckin’ wife no more Barbie, don’t you get that?” He asked, sat himself down on the couch.

“What are you – ” She started, and he only sighed, sick of yelling.

He motioned for you to come over to him, to sit on his lap, and you did, of course you did. You carried the second glass over and settled right on his knee, sitting sideways and loopin’ your arms around his neck in the way you always did, kissed at his cheek in the way you always did.

You wondered how that looked to Barbara, who stood all by herself, awkwardly on the other side of the room. You hoped she felt uncomfortable, hoped she felt awful, for coming in here and starting this shit.

“Do you see a ring on my fuckin’ finger? Huh?” Pale asked, “Do you see your ugly mug all over the walls, do you see your clothes in my closet? No. I meant what I said down in Miami. I can’t believe you burned my money to fly up here just to piss me off and attack my girl – that’s a real new fuckin’ low for you.”

“Last time I checked I didn’t sign no divorce papers.” Barbara crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a challenging stare, but he wasn’t having any of it.

“Because you had to be the biggest fucking cunt you could!” He sounded truly exasperated now, and you let your arm stroke up and down his chest where it too was exposed from the robe starting to fall open, “I begged you to fuckin’ sign them, don’t think I wanted to stick around, I didn’t have a god damned choice, you didn’t give me a choice.”

“So you cheat on me.” Barbara pouted, all sad eyes that you all knew would get her nowhere. Jesus, you thought, what a fucking manipulator, especially when her chin wobbled with false sorrow and she began to cry again, “You don’t cheat on someone you love, Jimmy!”

“Well maybe I don’t fucking love you anymore!” Pale threw up his arms, let them fall back down with a smack on his muscular thighs, “Maybe I don’t love you anymore.”

You wondered just then, in the dark of the living room, if they had ever talked about this. If this was the first time any of this discussion was actually coming to light. The way Barbara’s expression began to change and shift from anger to sadness to confusion said that maybe they hadn’t.

“What?” She asked, quiet in a way that was loud.

You just sat there, on Pale’s lap, watching his hand clench and unclench, watching his chest rise and fall as he took a deep breath and gave her a hard stare right back.

“Maybe I haven’t loved you for a real long fuckin’ time.” Pale said, and you could see the way she visibly flinched, could see how those words stung. “How is it cheatin’ on you when I ain’t hear from you for 11 months outta the year, huh? How is it cheatin’ on you when you’re a thousand fucking miles away? You told me, Barbie, you told me.”

“Oh yeah, what’d I tell you?” She asked, defiant.

“’I can’t do this anymore. I’m tired of being here – tired of you.’” Pale recited, a line from a letter you had read a year ago.

It hurt you to know that Pale had it memorized. You wondered how many times he had read the letter she left, wondered how many times he had scanned the lines again and again. You wondered how it felt, to come home after working a twenty hour day, and finding your family packed up and gone away.

You never wanted to find out.

“Yeah okay okay, sure, paint me as the bad guy.” Barbara grumbled, lit up a cigarette, and your temper came back, all sympathy for her gone.

“You are the bad guy! Are you delusional? Are you high? Did the flight fuck up your braincells?” You asked.

Pale’s grip on you tightened, which you thought was kinda funny, because it was like him preventing you from lunging at her throat, preventing you from springing off of his lap and tackling her to the ground. You didn’t know what had come over you today, why you were so aggressive.

You were just so annoyed at this woman.

“Did you know?” She asks instead of answering you, not that you really wanted an answer anyway.

“Did I know what?” You shot right back, even though you do, you did.

“That he was married? Did you know.” She clarifies, and you do laugh then.

“Yeah of course I fucking knew.” You said, said it like she was stupid, because really she had to be stupid. “I knew and I didn’t give a shit because I figured he ain’t got a good marriage anyways, if he’s out here fucking me all day and night.” You pointed out, and maybe she didn’t expect that either, because her eyebrows shot up and she turned her attention back to him.

“You fucked her?” She asked Pale, but you didn’t take too nicely to being talked over, talked about like you weren’t even there.

“We were fuckin’ just now, and havin’ a real good god damned time about it too until you came to ruin the mood.” You said, and she looked so confused, as if it were a shock anyone would enjoy sex with Pale.

“Why is it his birthday or something?” She asked, and Pale got up then, shifted you off of his lap and stood up, downed the rest of the whiskey and sighed out real low and long.

“Sixteen years we were together and you don’t even know it’s my birthday.” He said, swirling the last stubborn drop of the drink round and round in the glass before setting it down on the coffee table. He turned away, fully intending on heading back to the bedroom, tired of wanting to deal with this insufferable person anymore. “Why am I not surprised, you selfish bitch.”

He got only a couple steps in, before Barbara lit a new cigarette and blew the smoke out through her nose like some ugly beast and said,

“I wish you had died instead of your queer brother.”

Pale stopped walking then, his legs coming to a screeching halt, like he had been struck by lightning, lost in time and space.

“Get out of my apartment.” You said, turning to face her.

“Your apartment?” She challenged, but you weren’t in the mood to entertain her, not now or ever again.

“Get out!” You snapped, your heart breaking for Pale who was still so quiet, so still, frozen frozen frozen.

He’s still frozen when she finally realizes that she’s unwanted, unwelcome.

When she leaves, she leaves all the tension in the air. It’s so thick you felt like you could cut it with a knife, and that loud silence is back. It’s just you and Pale again, in the penthouse. Just you and him, together and alone at last, and Pale still hasn’t spoken, and that’s more unsettling to you than anything else, because Pale never shuts up.

“Honey, don’t listen to her.” You said softly, taking a careful step around to the front of him, to see how he aches, how his face is pinched with sadness.

There’s wetness in his big brown eyes, a shine that’s reflecting all the lights from the city outside, and when you go to cup his cheek, you can tell he is torn between embracing you and pushing you away.

“She’s right.” He whispers after some time, after deciding to embrace you, after letting you smooth your hand over his cheek, rub small circles there.

“Pale, she isn’t.” Your voice cracks, and then you’ve got tears in your eyes too, because his are sliding down his nose.

How had everything gone to shit in so short of a time? Only moments ago it felt like you were both in paradise, on top of the moon. Now, the world felt dark and grey and the familiar face of grief has reared its ugly head in your man’s chest, has stoked the fire of his mourning, has caused that sick guilt to surface once again.

Pale fell to his knees before you, wrapped his arms around your legs. He let out a long, anguished shout, one that had you gasping, one that had you cradling his head against your stomach, desperately trying to soothe him as those wracking sobs hit him once again.

You’d kill her, you decided, right there in that moment, if she ever showed up again. You’d go to the fancy knife block and kill her, for what she’s done, what she did, what she’s doing.

Pale shudders and shakes beneath your palms, and you want to kill her.

“No, she is. She’s right, it should have – it shoulda been me.” He shoves his face between the soft plush fabric of your robe, shoves it up into your skin, buries his face in your flesh as he hiccups and cries, “I shoulda been the one to kick the fuckin’ bucket, not Robbie, it shouldn’t have been Robbie – ”

He’s wrecked, wrecked from this, and you cursed under your breath because he had been doin’ so good lately, hadn’t been so raw lately.

But now, now it was nothing but raw, grief pure and brutal and angry.

You’re angry for him.

You’re heartbroken for him.

“Come here, come here.” You say, voice soft and gentle. He needs soft, needs gentle. God knows he never got it, never got it when he needed it, from Barbara or anyone else. “Let’s go back to bed, okay? It’s cold out here, you’re going to get cold.”

And you know he doesn’t, won’t, not really. He runs so hot, but still. Something about sadness made people grow cold, and though his skin is sweating and warm, you know inside he’s gotta be feeling the chill of it.

“(Y/N),” He sounds so young then, so young. Not like the nearly-forty that he was, and you only keep trying to coax him up up up into your arms. He finally rises, winds his arms around you, holds you so tight as he cries into your shoulder, “(Y/N) it shoulda been me.”

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” You assure him, wanting him calm, needing him calm. Calm before he hurts himself somehow, mind flashing back to a year ago when he had stumbled in, drunk and high out of his mind, bleeding all over your floor. You hug him, ground him, soothe him, all the while telling him, “Come on.”

He lets himself be led into the bedroom, and you sigh.

All around the carpeting are scraps and pieces of black lace where only an hour or two prior, he had been so happy, so eager to tear them off of your body, a birthday gift just for him. Now the whole evening was destroyed, and you watced with sad eyes as he collected himself enough to strip off his robe, let it fall to the ground.

He sat naked on the mattress and you watched as it dipped under the sturdy weight of him. He patted his lap but you hesitated only for a moment, deciding he could probably, desperately use a cigarette. So instead of going right to his lap like you normally always would, instead you walked to the night-table where he always kept a few extra packs of Barclays.

You stuck one in between your teeth, holding it just long enough to light it. Only when it was lit did you shuck your robe off too, did you move to where he was waiting for you, did you give it to him and climb into his lap.

“Here.” You said, pressing the cigarette between his own lips, and he eagerly sucked down the nicotine.

“Thank you, thank you – fuck – oh god, fuck.” He said, tears stinging stinging stinging has he smoked and smoked, trying to let the flood in his lungs soothe him from the inside out.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” Is all you said, not wanting to push him, but wanting him to know he was safe with you, could let it all out with you.

With his grip on you tight, he moved the two of you backwards so you were lying down, on top of the messed up covers, greyish blusish smoke wafting up into the air.

Pale was crying into your hair, but it was a quiet cry this time, not the shuddering gasping mess he had been only a few minutes before. You in his arms soothed him more than the cigarettes ever did, but you knew they helped, were glad that they helped.

“He didn’t deserve to die,” Pale said, sighed, eyes pinched shut, “It shoulda been me. No one woulda cared if it was me. No one would be surprised, they’d say ‘oh yeah that’s about right’ if they’d heard it was me. Family fuckup, that’s me. Not doin’ nothin’ with my life, failed career failed marriage failed – ”

“That’s not true.” You shook your head, craning your neck up to look at him from where you were curled against his chest, a familiar comforting weight on his body.

“It is! It is.” He insisted, flicked his ash onto the carpeting, “Robbie was gonna be somebody. Anna…Anna said he was good, he was the best. He was gonna be somebody, (Y/N). What am I? How am I better?” He asked, and you frowned.

You didn’t know who Anna was, didn’t know, didn’t care. She didn’t matter, it’d been a year and he’d never mentioned her, so you figured she couldn’t matter much. Robbie mattered -- but Robbie wasn’t Pale’s fault.

“We’re all gonna be somebody. All of us in our own way, doing our own thing. Your career ain’t failed, it’s just gettin’ started. You have so much ahead of you, and you know that. You know it.” You said, and he pinched at your nose, smiled sadly at you. You smiled right back, sighed and with a nasal voice you said, “I would have cared.”

“You wouldn’t have known me.” Pale let out a deep big breath then, and you could feel the tension starting to melt from his shoulders, could see the tears starting to slow.

“I still would have cared.” You insisted, rolling onto your back and tugging him against your chest, letting him settle his head on your breast, letting him smoke and smoke and breathe just how he needs to. You carded your fingers through his hair, lightly scratched against his scalp and licked your lips, wet your dry throat, “I woulda felt something out there, in the great big unknown. I woulda felt it, you goin’. I would’ve cared.”

“C-can you keep talkin’? Please? Fuck, I can’t – please just – please?” Pale whispers, eyes closing, mouth sucking down the last of the cigarette all the way down to the filter.

You nodded, let your own eyes close too.

“You know I heard once, a long time ago, maybe I read it, I dunno; that when a person dies and there’s no one to mourn em, the sadness has nowhere to go. So it wanders around and around, lookin’ for somewhere to live, someone’s chest to be there to feel it. I think the same is true for love, you know? When someone’s got all this love to give and no one to give it to, it wanders too. I think you were wanderin’, your love was searching, and it led you to me. And I’m grateful for that, that I get to house your love, instead of your mournin’. But I would have taken your mournin’ too.”

In your head it was calm and peaceful, all the rage you had felt long gone.

Outside, snow began to fall. Soft flurries that whirled past the window, wind whipped in pretty swirls. You felt like you were in a snowglobe, felt like this penthouse was you and Pale’s own personal world, kept safe and warm and contained, away from the big bad world outside.

Pale was breathin’ against you, gently, softly, but you knew he wasn’t asleep.

“I ain’t got many people, you know? Before you, I had a couple of friends I saw every month or so, a couple regulars at the diner. I got Fish and Chaya but they’re like parents to me, my parents in a suburb a suburb away. I think I had too much love too, and it was wanderin’ too, and there you were, angry and big and crass and willin’ to take it all.”

You continued, let your fingers twist in and around his soft locks, glad that he had washed his hair with you that morning. You loved the way it feathered and fell through your fingers, silky wavy and black as midnight.

You wondered if it was midnight now, if it was later. You couldn’t see the clock, didn’t want to even open your eyes to look.

“You didn’t have to take it all, but you did. You coulda fucked me and been done, a one night stand with a stranger, but you stayed. And you kept comin’ back, and I kept lovin’ you. Right from day fuckin’ one I loved you.” You said, quietly, voice so quiet and yet loud enough that there was no way to miss what you were saying, “I woulda cared.”

You and Pale laid there for a long time, the two of yous just soaking in the feeling of one another.

You wondered if he had been scared, when Barbara showed up. If he had been worried. Maybe he thought that once you saw her, you’d be angry with him, you’d want to leave him. Maybe he thought she’d convince you to leave him, like she had done years and years ago.

You wondered now, if he was relieved, that you hadn’t. That you weren’t planning on going anywhere, nowhere at all. You were his, pure and simple.

It snows outside, and Pale sighs, but this time it’s not so shaky as it had been. This time, it’s more resigned than anything else, as he pinches the cigarette between his fingers.

He gets up off of your chest to stick the butt of it in the ashtray, to squash it down. You take the opportunity to get more comfortable, to get onto the bed properly, instead of having your legs hanging down over the side of the mattress like the had been.

Pale puts out the cigarette and slides under the covers, the two of you facing one another.

“You woulda loved him.” Pale said finally, after a real long time of being quiet. “Robbie, I mean. You two woulda gotten along like two fuckin’ peas in a pod. You both have that light. Some people are real dark, heavy. But not you, not…not Robbie. He was light. You woulda loved him.”

“Where’s he at?” You asked, reaching out a hand for him.

“How’s that?” He frowns just a little, taking it nonetheless, rushing to grasp it in his own hands.

His hands were so much bigger than yours, and you smile a little at the sight of it.

“The cemetery, which one?” You clarified, and he hums, trying to think.

“Jersey City,” He replied after searching through the memories in his brain, “He’s in Jersey City.”

“We should go, one day. One day soon, I think. We should go visit him.” You suggested, and his eyes widen just a little.

“You would go do that? You’d go with me to see him?” He asked, and your heart broke all over again, at the sheer surprise of the question.

“Yeah, I would.” You nodded, squeezing his hand real tight, scooting yourself forward on the bed enough so that you can press your forehead up against his, “I’d do anything for you.”

Pale didn’t say anything to that, just nodded his head up and down real slow, leaned in to kiss you even slower.

His lips felt like the words coolest drink against yours, and you wondered how anyone could be so cruel to him, so heartless. He was tough, yes, rough around the edges, even more so. But underneath all that – and not even very deep underneath – he was just another kicked dog desperate for love.

And as you settle against him, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up to you, all the aches and pains from the hard fucking all coming rushing to your joints, you decided that no matter how rough around the edges he was, you’d always give him that, that love.

                                                    ---------------

You don’t remember falling asleep, but then again, does anyone? You don’t remember waking up either, and that’s always a little strange; that fleeting moment where you’re fighting the day, trying desperately to cling on to whatever little sleep you managed to get.

But the day has won, and sleep has lost this round, and you’re stretching your limbs out and rousing Pale in your wake, as you stick your freezing feet between his legs and he groaned to life.

“What day is it?” He grumbled, making you have to do mental calculations for a minute.

“Sunday?” You said, not entirely sure, but that sounded right.  

“Thank fuck.” Pale huffed, making you chuckle. Sundays were your day to be wholly and completely together, without a care in the world. Monday could be dealt with when it arrived, and all the baggage and bullshit that went with it, but Sundays were special, just for the two of you. Pale reached down and grasped your ankles, making you laugh and laugh as he pried your cold feet from his overly warm skin, asking, “Did yesterday really happen?”

“Yeah.” Your laughs died down a little, “I’m sorry.”

The both of you finally succumbed to being awake fully and completely, getting up out of bed to go walk barefoot and naked to the bathroom. Pale always let you use the toilet first, something of a gentleman. You both brushed your teeth side by side, pinching and poking at one another to make the time go by just a little bit faster, so that you could crawl back into bed together feeling more like humans.

“Why the fuck are you sorry?” Pale asked after spitting out toothpaste and rinsing his mouth, gargling alcohol disguised as mouthwash, blue into the sink.

“Because she ruined your birthday.” You replied, following suit.

“She ruins every birthday.” Pale sighed, before turning to you more fully and groping your tits right there in the bathroom, pinchin’ at your nipples as he let a small smile grace his lips when he asked for a, “Kiss?”

You were glad to see he wasn’t still so fucked up about it, last night had you worried, more worried than you’d been in a long time about him. But he was okay now, looked okay anyway. And you kissed him, with no hesitation, no thinkin’, just love.

He smiled against you more fully, pushed you up onto the bathroom counter. You winced a little as your bare ass hit the cold marble, but that shock only lasted for a moment. Pale was already wriggling his way between your legs, prying your knees open.

Surprisingly though, he didn’t shove his cock right into you like he was wont to do most mornings. No, you knew he’d fuck you later in the warm light of the living room, languid and slow. He wasn’t gentle, but he could be slow.

No, instead of fucking you right there, he instead used the grey morning light to inspect your body. A long time ago in a leaky bathtub you had once joked that a wild animal had mauled you, and you couldn’t help but feel that way now. You were covered in marks and bruises, ones he pressed his thumb into and made you hum out in pleasure-pain.

His hands roved across your skin, searching for something, you didn’t know what. You just watched his face, looked at him. You loved him like this, sleep-rumpled. His hair was a train wreck, and his face a little blotchy and red from the night before, but he was handsome and at peace, at least for the moment, before he started bitching and moaning about whatever it was that was bugging him.

You knew what he’d be bitching about today.

Eventually, he found what he was lookin’ for – scratch marks on your arm from where Barbara had grabbed you and tried to shred you up with her long acrylics. She hadn’t broken the skin or anything, but the lines were puffy and red, and he sighed.

You cupped his cheek, a silent affirmation that you didn’t care, that she wouldn’t scare you off that easily.  

“What are we gonna do about her?” You asked, and that familiar frown came back as he got all aggravated.

It was kind of a funny sight, him standing there naked, hair angry and face angry as he rummaged in the medicine cabinet, looking for a cigarette. You helped him light it, his hands a little shaky from the lack of nicotine in his system.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what the fuck she was thinking, coming here. She wants me back? Yeah fucking right, she needs something from me and is going to be a real bitch about getting whatever it is. I just don’t know what that could fuckin’ be, especially since I don’t got none of her shit in the apartment.” He said, rolling his eyes.

“How’d she even find you?” You asked, hopping down from the counter.

“Right?” He asked, shaking his head and smacking your ass lightly as you headed back into the bedroom, plopped yourself down onto the mattress. The clock read eight in the morning, slept in late once again. “It’s not like I told her my address or nothin’. But she’s been calling everyone I know tryin’ to get a god damned hold of me and it’s pissin’ me off.”

“Yeah she called here too.” You said, realizing that the woman who you had thought was the commissioner’s secretary, hadn’t been no secretary after all.

“She did?” Pale’s eyebrows shot up, and he groaned, scrubbed a hand over his face as he crawled back into bed next to you. “She called the diner, Fish thought…”

“What, did he think you were cheatin’ on me?” You grinned, so fond of that old man, of your friend. He was always looking out for you, Fish was.

“Yeah.” Pale said with a big huff and puff, puffing on his cigarette before grabbing your jaw in his hot hot hot hand, palm sweaty against your chin, “You know I’d never do that, right?”

“I know.” You want to nod but he’s holding you in place, crowding into your space, licking into your mouth. “I know. I meant what I said yesterday.”

“Which part?” He asked, voice soft.

It was a wonder, sometimes, how he could be so vulnerable. And then other times, it only made perfect sense.

“All of it.” You replied, kissing and licking right back into his, not minding the taste of Barclays one bit. You hummed against his lips for a long while, kissed and kissed, let yourself get wrapped up in the all-consuming feeling of Pale, before pulling away slightly and asking, “Do you send her money?”

“’Course I do.” Pale said, “She’s got the kids and everything, I can’t let them fall through the cracks.”

“How much do you send her?” You wondered, because you thought, had an inkling, that this is what it was all about.

He had gotten a lot more money recently, from his commission work. He had composed some scores for some big blockbuster movies, and was now in a deal with the Philharmonic, and you knew, you just knew, that she was here to take advantage of that – of him.

“It depends. Like two grand a month, but more for the holidays.” He scratched the back of his neck, and you froze right there in his arms.

“Holy shit.” You whispered, feeling your entire stomach sink. “Pale that’s a lot of money.”

You unwrapped yourself from his arms and sat up in bed, suddenly feeling the huge gap that there was between you and him.

“Yeah well, she got used to a certain lifestyle when we were married, me workin’ my fuckin’ ass off. And I didn’t want her accusing me of desertin’ her with nothin’, so I figured it’d just be easier to send her whatever she needs.” Pale shrugged, like it was nothing, like throwing away two grand was no big deal.

“How much does that leave you with?” You asked. You had never really asked about his finances, because you had figured it was never really any of your business.

You knew he had to be well off, because of the way he dressed and this penthouse and his car, but you had never figured it was this much.

“A little over six a month.” He said real quiet, catching on to why you were beginning to grow quiet.

“Christ.” You said, looking down at your fingernails, picking out something that wasn’t there from underneath them, just because the sudden realization of just how well off he was hit you deep in your chest, ���That’s as much as I make in a year.”

Pale stubbed out the cigarette and sat up with you, chased you with his lips. You had never been embarrassed before, about anything. But for some reason, now, now it did.

“I know sweetheart, I know.” Pale said, shuffling to sit cross-legged in front of you, taking your hands in his and holdin’ em real tight as he tried to get you to look at him, “Now do you get why I want to give you nice things? Buy you nice shit?”

“I just…” You sighed, “I ain’t used to any of it, you know? Any of this. I’m comfortable with what I got, what I work for and earn. It’s more than enough for me. I can’t imagine having that kinda money, not in a million years.” You said, because it was true.

“Anything I got is yours now, you gotta know that.” Pale said, said like it was obvious, like it was the understatement of the century, “Any of my shit, my money, anything. It’s yours. I’ve been doing some thinking, and when I kick the bucket I want it all to go to you.”

“Pale I don’t like you talkin’ like that.” You shook your head, not wanting him to spiral, not wanting him to get it in his head that he’s dying any time soon.

“No no, I’m serious. I’m bein’ practical. I’m gonna get it in writing and give it all to you. God willin’, you won’t need it, because I’ll be here to give it to you. But, heaven fuckin’ forbid, if I, I dunno get shot or hit by a truck or somethin’, no one’s gonna fight you for it, it’ll all just be yours.” He said, put his hand on his heart like he was swearin’ to something he didn’t believe in, just for you.

“What about your kids?” You asked, looking at him, really looking at him.

“They got trusts set up, they’ll be fine.” He waved them off, and you bit your lip, casted you gaze out the window, to wherever Barbara was staying, spending the night, spending the day.

You wondered if she had gone right back to the airport, or if she was up running her credit card somewhere in some swanky hotel in Manhattan. You figured it was probably the latter, figured you weren’t done with her yet, not yet.

“What about your wife?” You asked, but Pale only kissed you.

“Who?” He asked, playfully, trying to get some humor back behind your eyes.

“Pale.” You said, trying your best and failing to be serious.

He cast his gaze out the window too, and then looked back at you, really looked back at you, through you, into you in that way he sometimes did when he was high off his ass and too honest.

“As far as I’m concerned, I’m lookin’ at her.” He said, and you sucked in a breath. “Don’t get me wrong, I ain’t ever gettin’ married again, no fuckin’ way. And I ain’t really about having any more kids. I did the whole American nuclear fuckin’ family white picket fence green lawn bullshit, and well. You saw how it all turned out. But you, us, this? This is more than enough for me. You wearin’ my chain and suckin’ my dick and holdin’ me and laughin’ at my jokes – that’s more than I ever got when I was married, you’re more my wife than she ever was.”

You used to think you’d be used to it, these passionate declarations of his, but you never are. You felt like the wind had been knocked out of you, and you wondered, wondered how long he had kept that speech locked inside his chest.

Outside the snow falls, but in the snowglobe, you’re safe and warm, warmed from the inside out.

You kiss him, because you can’t resist, can’t prevent it from happening, not that you want to. You kiss him because you’re afraid if you don’t, you’ll cry.

Maybe you cry a little anyway, but who’s there to judge?

He curls his hand against the nape of your neck and breathes into your mouth and you breathe back in the way that you know makes him dizzy dizzy dizzy, and your eyes are shut but still, somehow, you can see him, can see his soft brown eyes and the glint of gold around his neck, the same gold that you wear, that you’ll always wear.

When you pull apart, you’re grinning, because the words have settled deep into your bones and you feel like you’ve accidentally done a bump or two.

“I ain’t gonna force you to do anything you don’t wanna do.” You said softly, whispered against his lips, smiling smiling smiling, “But…you sure you don’t want no more kids?”

Pale huffs out a laugh against your mouth, makes a face, one you can’t really read. But it’s playful, and it’s considerate, in Pale’s own way.

“Maybe one day.” He settles on with a grumble, rolling his eyes when you laugh, but then he’s pinching your nose, your cheek, your ear, smacking a kiss to your lips as he says, “But not today.”

“Good enough for me.” You beam, moment interrupted by the loud grumbling of his stomach, which only makes you smile wider when you asked, “Breakfast?”

And when you looked at him, and he looked back, you knew that you’d be able to get through all this together. You’d figure it out, figured out what Barbara wanted, and then she’d go away, and everything would go back to normal.

But until then, until you had a plan, there really was only one thing to deal with, and Pale knew it just as well as you, and he nodded when he agreed,

“Breakfast.”      

                                                  ---------------

Tagging some Pale lovin’ pals! As always, if you’d like to be put on the taglist or taken off of it, just let me know :) 

@fullofbees​​ @spinebarrel​​ @dreamboatdriver​​ @thecurlycaptain​​ @bourbonboredom​​ @driverficarchive​​ @rosalynbair​​ @redhairedfeistynerd​​ @adamsnackdriver​​ @glitzescape​​ @adamsnacc-kler​​ @kyloxfem​​ @fallin-for-youreyes @kylo-renne​​ @attorneyl​​ @jedihbic​​ @bens-rose​​ @callmehopeless​​ @formerly-anonhamster​​ @thepilotanon​​ @hippieface​​ @tinyplanet-explorers​​ @satansstrawberry @riseofkylo​ @whiskey-bumblebee​ @helloimindelaware​

[shaekingshitup]

Grindin

A/N: EEEPP. This is my first attempt at a reader insert. Reader is always gonna be black. I missed a many of days. Here is the day 3 prompt because I liked this idea! Kind of based off my favorite coffee shop. Maybe I’ll do more for this lil story? 💁🏿 The chime for the door is literally from this song here. 

Summary: Reader goes back home to open a coffee shop and meets a man that stirs some things in her. 

“I love the concept,” you commented, “ I know we were only interested in black and blue originally. But can you do a mock up with gold lettering as well?”

“YAS! THAT! I like THAT! exclaimed Ray

“Already done,” Lulu noted and pulled out a secondary growler mock up from behind the print that you were assessing.

“You know me so well,” you smiled.

“Yeah, your ass is kinda predictable” she smiled back which earned her a tongue out.

This was your first meeting of the month and so far everything was going great. You loved that you could live out your dreams with the two people you trusted more than anyone in the world. Lulu had been by your side since you both realized you were the only two Spelman freshmen who were both from Cali in your class.  By your second semester y’all were so inseparable that everyone thought you were sisters. And by year 2 you were already living together. Thank God y’all had separate interests which kept your friendship and now your business in a healthy and ever growing state. You were engrossed in the world of science. You had been a bio major who often volunteered at the local greenhouse. That helped you establish your small but busy coffee shop a year and a half ago. Lulu was a graphic artist whom also was in charge of all Grindin social media and the unofficial pastry taste tester. Ray had come along when the ladies were rooming together off campus. He was a community college to 4- year transplant at Clark Atlanta but the boy was born and raised in Macon, Georgia and he’d never let you forget it. It was evident that once he met the girls at a mixer in his first week, the friendship was a wrap. That spawned regular visits back to his parents’ homes on the weekends and even some holidays spent in the south. After graduation, the bond never broke. You and Lulu returned to Cali with Ray in tow so that he could use his business degree to help birth Grindin.

You glanced over to Sherell. The Brewista Lead for the morning shift. You knew that Sherell had been strugglin to keep up a healthy sleeping schedule with finals right around the corner and the nerves of her impending graduation from Lincoln. She was a sweet girl and you couldn’t stand to see her bare any more stress. You were so caught up in your thoughts about Sherell that you had missed the very clear topic change amongst your friends.

“Okay, but that nigga’s arms? They biggg. You know what that mean!” sad Ray pointedly at Lulu

“HA” she cackled, “ that don’t mean nothin’. My guy has really soft eyes and you know Y/N loves a guy who is easy on the eyes,” Lu quips

“Bitch, you see the caterpillar above those eyes? We don’t nee her birthin the next Helga Pataki in these streets”

“Ugh” you groaned as you rubbed your temple. “I don’t know how many times we have to have to do this but I do not under any circumstances want you two meddling in my love life,”

“But” they chorused.

“BUT NOTHING! Every human with an assumed penis and who looks like they got more than $150 in the bank becomes a contestant for your little game of ‘Win a Date with Y/N’! I run a coffee shop! Not a dating service. I’m done explaining shit to y’all. Stop harassing my customers and let my ass worry about who I am with! I mean that shit.”

“I told you we should have started addin females to the list,” whispers Ray as you walk over to the counter.

“Raymond Johnson the IV and Eyeluta Nicole Hathaway, if I hear one more word from either of y’all you both gone be banned from any pastries for the rest  of the month” you spat feeling like the unofficial mother of your group yet again. You took a deep breath and continued toward the counter. 

“Sherell, how’s it going?” you asked a you approached the register.

She sighed heavily.

“You know what? You need a break. Go in the back and relax your eyes a bit. I’ll man the front”

“Oh no. It’s really-“

You cut her off. “Get back there and relax a little. I think I know how to run a register,” you winked.

You were on the register and Antwon was pouring at the bar. You two were in a good rhythm. It was either bustling or there was one customer to tend to today. There didn’t seem to be any in between this morning. 

GRINDIN rang out as the next patron entered.

“Welcome!” Antwon called out as you were assessing the stock supply up in the floor.

When you turned around you were met with... Well, you weren’t quite sure how to describe him. Fine was an understatement. Standing six feet tall was a milk chocolate wonder with a physique that his dark turtleneck and three piece suit couldn’t hide.

Keep it professional y/n

Before you could even get a breath out he growled “Y’all really got Clipse playin every time the damn door open?” He said this with his eyes glued to his screen as if looking up was such a difficult feat to conquer at 7:32 a.m.

“Yeah. It’s a signature touch,” you responded to the stranger. At your voice, he looked up and offered a smirk that probably made most women collapse at first sight. You still hadn’t made up your mind though.

“I’m feelin it.”

“Is this your first time here? I’m more than welcome to answer any questions you have about the menu or the store in general” you offered.

“Nah. I’ve been in a time or two before. Never seen you before,” he very openly eyed you up and down, “I normally let my assistant handle this shit though, you know Miss… “

“Y/N. Well, since you’ve been here before then you’re familiar with our unique take on the menu.” you supplied.

“Yeah, y’all rotate teas and coffees quarterly. You seem to keep a few staples- which I ‘preciate and y’all got some corny ass names for these drinks too.”

You bristled a bit at that last part. “There’s nothing wrong with a little creativity.”

“Never said there was, Y/N” At this point you couldn’t tell if you wanted to serve this man or show him the door. You chose the professional route.

“So, what does your assistant normally bring you Mr…?” you trailed off

“Just Erik is fine. My favorite is the single origin. Black.  It’s always the best way to start my day.”

“Mine too.” you smiled. Maybe he isn’t so bad after all

“If you’re into the single origin and you love that bold, black, taste something similar with just a little more sweetness is Brew Thang.”

He chuckled. “See what I be saying about these names? How you expect a grown ass man to order a drink called ‘Brew Thang’?”

“It’s good. Once you have a taste, you won’t have a hard time getting it to roll of your tongue.” you sassed.

Oh fuck . I didn’t mean it like that. I gotta keep this professional. I don’t need a bad review from this guy.

He raised an eyebrow at you. “Oh really? Then lemme get a taste,” he said licking his lips. Your eyes widened slightly but he caught it. 

“Size?” you asked looking down at the tablet screen. 

“Large” he said with a bld and dark stare, “How much I owe you?”

“This one will be on the house. I want to make sure you’re satisfied.”

OH MY GAWD GIRL? WHO ARE YOU? WHAT IS COMING OUT OF YOUR MOUTH. PLEASE LEAD WITH YOUR HEAD AND LESS OF THE PUSSY

“Antwon, let’s switch. I’ll take the bar. You take the register!” You yelled out and quckly you two transitioned so that he could help the growing line of customer and you could bang out the drinks. Erik followed as you moved to the bar where he watched you work your magic. Once you were done pouring his drink you gave it to him. You got started not the next orders not the board but made sure to keep an eye on him as he took the first sip.  

“Fuck ma. This shit good” It was your turn to smirk. 

“That’s what I was trying to tell you. So now you’re hooked on the Brew Thang?”

“Oh yeah, I’m definitely satisfied.” You failed to hide your giggle as you called out that Ricky’s order was ready. Erik stuck around for a little after that inquiring about other menu items that you told him not be too quick to judge based on their names. The initial tension had dissolved and you two were in a comfortable rhythm of commenting on both the menu and the changes you’d seen in Oakland during the last few years. Thankfully there wasn’t a rush at the moment and it was fine for your to be off to the side of the bar answering any questions he could put forth. He was attentive to your passion regarding the menu and all that went into the shop as a whole.

“Hol up. You ain’t a barista. This is yo shit?”

“I prefer Brewista and yes. I do co-own this shop with my best friend Ray and we have a great Graphic Artist, Lulu, on deck too” The more he learned about you. The more he wanted to know.

“Okay Miss Entrepreneur. I see you. Damn, does that mean that you tha one that come up with these corny ass names then?”

You scowled playfully. “You keep talkin on my name and you gone catch these hands. I’m a professional. But I grew up on these streets. I can throw blows Erik,”

“My bad baby girl. I respect your grind.”

“Okay. So who really is the corny one here?”

“Whatever,” he smiled. A genuine smile with teeth and this made you want to melt right there. “Anyways, speaking of Brew Thangs, you got  a ni-“

His phone rang and he glanced down cursing. He put up his index finger and gestured that he just need one moment. You nodded your consent.

“What up T?”

In that time that he took his call, you looked up and saw that you had a line out the door. Sherrell came back out to the floor and your two were in a great rhythm getting through the 16 drink orders that had come up. When you looked up again, Erik was no where to be found. Now that the shop was stable you let Sherell do her thang and went into the back to re-convene with Lu & Ray.

“Y/N we need to get you an award for best employer. You really be out here goin the extra mile for your staff,” Lu said. You lifted the corner of your mouth in a weak attempt at a smile.

“Uh uh. Hoe what’s wrong?” Ray said noting your dejected spirt.

“Now? Now you listen to me?!” you yelled. “ALLL the time, I tell yo asses not to intervene in my love life and the one time it may have actually been beneficial y’all were no where to be seen!”

“I know she didn’t” Ray said.

“Yeah. She did” Lu, retorted. “I’m gonna ignore your funky attitude because I can see you’re going through something sis. What’s the deal?”

“I was talking to this guy. This man. And y’all he was so charming and sexy as hell and he wasn’t afraid to talk about shit that matters and I just turned away to make some drinks and he disappeared! I really thought he was gonna make a move. Or at the very least that you two would move in on him and make me sit through another awkward date. But nooooooo, you two finally decided to respect my wishes for once and now Imma die alone!” you monologued.

“You done?” Lu asked.

“Yes” you pouted.

“Aww come here baby,” Ray said with his arms outstretched, “I’m sure he’ll be back.” He hugged your frame tightly and rubbed some circles into your back. “Especially if you turned around when you were in front of him, cuz BABY GOT BACK!!” He yelled.

You and Lu laughed as he started smackin your ass and shakin his own. Soon enough you were all in the back twerkin like it was the first night y’all meet all over again. Hopefully he’d be back.

I’m sorry I forgot who to tag! Soooo if you got tagged and didn’t wanna be I’m sorry. The inverse is the same 😁

@twistedcharismaaa @raysunshine78

@ghostfacekill-monger @yoursoulstea 

@shewrites02 @sarcastic-sunshines

@thadelightfulone