#he is still hot as hell in the newest season but oh my god. he was so fine in the previous ones too

[angelofbloodlust]

dad bod Hopper >>>

[tennessoui]

Please give me the TA scene where Vos takes Obi-Wan to a bar to get drunk and forget about Anakin and pick up some hotties but oh no Anakin is there and Obi-Wan is a little tipsy and doesn’t want to be rude so he goes to say hi. Then for the rest of the night when he tries to go Anakin pulls him back into conversation because he doesn’t want Obi-Wan going home with someone else

yes!!!!!! TIS THE SEASON (halloween)

(2.3k)(the first TA obi-wan snippet!!)

The thing about Quinlan that Obi-Wan hates the most is that his friend is the only person in the entire world that can out-stubborn him. That’s usually not a problem. But sometimes it is. Sometimes it results in Quinlan forcing Obi-Wan into doing something he’d rather not do.

All those people that say peer pressure isn’t really real have never met Quinlan Vos.

Obi-Wan sort of wishes he’d never met Quinlan Vos when the man shows up at his door on Friday evening carrying three different bundles of clothing.

“Because I’m nice, you get to choose what you want to be for Halloween,” Quinlan announces, laying out the options on Obi-Wan’s coffee table.

“Drunk and alone in my apartment,” Obi-Wan says. “That’s an option, right?”

“Just for that, I’m taking Indiana Jones off the table,” Quinlan replies, not sounding sorry about it at all. “I’ll be that one. I think I could make the whip look hot as hell.”

Obi-Wan crosses his arms and peers at the costumes. “Sexy nurse or sexy….Red Riding Hood? I’m not wearing that. I doubt it would even fit me.”

“Bullshit, you have a very dainty waist, Obi. But hurry up and choose because we’re going to be late.”

“We’re going tonight?” Obi-Wan splutters. “It’s not even Halloween!”

“It’s the Halloweekend, Obi-Wan. It’s like you’ve forgotten all of our sophomore year.”

Obi-Wan’s tried to block most of it out, that’s true. The parts he remembers, at least. “I think we’re a bit too old for Halloweekend, Quin,” he protests, staring down at the costumes. “And I--”

“Have been obsessing over this so-called hottest professor in existence, yes, I know.” Quinlan holds up his hand when Obi-Wan starts to disagree. “No, you know I’m right. I don’t want to hear your excuses. I’ve never heard you casually talk about someone so much and I’ve been there for all of your co-ed crushes. So what we’re going to do tonight is go and get your hot professor fucked out of your head, and the best way to do that is either sexy nurse or sexy Red Riding Hood. So.”

“I do not want this,” Obi-Wan reiterates slowly. “I very much am not aboard this plan.”

“Don’t make me invoke the BFFFOC, Obi,” Quinlan threatens.

The BFFFOC, or Best Friend Forever Failsafe Override Code, was thought up between them one night their first year of college. If ever one of them was going down a path that the other deemed unwise, they had the right to invoke the override and talk some sense into them.

“I don’t think me not wanting to dress in a slutty and offensive nurse outfit counts,” Obi-Wan protests loudly.

“It’s not about the costume, Obi, and you know it. It’s about this professor. You know you need to get over him. So get under someone else. I’d offer, but that would be in complete violating of--”

“BFFNBTBT,” Obi-Wan finishes with him, rolling his eyes. “Yes, I recall.”

That one, Best Friends Forever No Below The Belt Touching had been resurrected after a very unfortunate one night stand. The grounds for that code are some of the ones Obi-Wan is still trying to forget.

“Fine,” he snaps and hates himself for it. One day he’ll learn how to say no to Quinlan. “But I’m going with Red Riding Hood.”

“I thought you would!” his friend cheers. “The cape’s long enough to cover more of your upper thighs and you’re a bit of a prude.”

Obi-Wan snatches up the packaged costume from the table. “Fuck off,” he says, quite pleasantly in his opinion. “And I’m not paying you back for this.”

“You should shave,” Quinlan tells him as he turns towards his bedroom. “Really commit to the role!”

Perhaps tonight Obi-Wan will strangle Quinlan with his own length of Indiana Jones whip. The thought puts a smile on his face.

In the end, Obi-Wan does end up shaving. It’s not something he does often, but he’d looked at the costume. The dress doesn’t even come down to his fingertips. The hooded red cape somehow just a little bit longer.

And he thinks making Quinlan wait for thirty minutes while Obi-Wan gets ready is the very least of what he deserves.

Dragging out the process, however, doesn’t magically give Quinlan enough time to realize how stupid this is, because when Obi-Wan peers around the edge of his door, Quin’s on the couch in full Indiana Jones costume regalia, flicking through his phone.

“I look like a pervert’s idea about what Swedish barmaids looked like in the 18th century,” Obi-Wan complains, trying to flatten the hem of the flared out dress as he regretfully leaves the safety of his bedroom.

“That’s what the hood’s for,” Quinlan says sagely, looking up from his phone to take in Obi-Wan. “What, no makeup?”

“I need you to know that my biggest regret in my entire life will always be that I sat next to you on our first day of chem,” Obi-Wan tells him placidly, adjusting the cape around his bare shoulders. He hates to admit it, but the feeling of the inner fabric of the hood feels good against his skin. Soft.

“Oh, don’t say that, Obi, I’m sorry. You’re pretty without makeup.”

“I’m about to throw a punch,” he warns.

Quinlan grins and slings an arm around him. “Well then, looks like it’s time to go.”

----

They slide into two seats at the very crowded bar only thirty or so minutes later. Everyone around them is wearing some sort of costume, some so wild or revealing that Obi-Wan doesn’t even necessarily feel bad about the amount of skin he’s showing off.

Someone walks by in a golden speedo and Obi-Wan takes a gulp of his drink. At least this place does some heavy pours.

Quinlan leans into his ear. “See anyone?” he yells of the din of loud music and voices.

“I see a lot of people,” Obi-Wan reports back immediately.

“One more tongue-in-cheek response out of you, and I’ll make you do tequila shots, young man!”

Obi-Wan narrows his eyes, but then a girl in a french maid costume smiles at him flirtily from across the bar. His first thought is that he likes Professor Skywalker’s smile a lot better. Then he wonders about what Professor Skywalker’s doing tonight, if he likes Halloween. If he’s dressed up. If he’s alone.

“I would like two tequila shots,” he tells the bartender when she passes them.

“Obi-Wan, you shouldn’t have!” Quinlan tosses his arm around his shoulder and pulls him in for an awkward, but enthusiastic hug when the shots arrive.

“They’re both for me,” he responds. “You can choke.”

“You wound me so precisely,” Quinlan shakes his head, and flags down a bartender to order his own. Obi-Wan decides to ignore him, licking at the back of his hand quickly before sprinkling the salt onto the damp skin.

The first shot goes down easily, but he doesn’t even wait ten seconds before he’s brought his hand back to his mouth for another lick.

Halfway through, he looks up at the feeling of eyes staring at him. He follows his own instincts until his eyes latch onto bright, familiar blue ones across the way.

If he’d taken the shot, he would have choked in this moment when confronted with Anakin Skywalker, out of the lecture hall and looking so intensely at Obi-Wan that he feels strangely vulnerable. Examined.

He breaks eye contact with his professor when Quinlan’s arm tightens on his shoulder and he knocks their shot glasses together.

It’s second nature at this point to do shots with Quin, and he drinks his down automatically as his eyes can’t help but to dart back to Anakin--Professor Skywalker--at his table.

He’s sitting alone. Not even that dressed up. Obi-Wan has no feelings about this.

Quinlan, who is frighteningly observant at the worst times, clues into Professor Skywalker’s presence before he thinks he should, after only ten or so minutes have passed. “That guy is staring at you,” he whispers very loudly to Obi-Wan, taking a pointed sip of his newest drink. “Or maybe me, but he sorta looks angry whenever I touch you.”

As if to prove this, Quinlan moves in to place a sloppy kiss on Obi-Wan’s cheek. Obi-Wan can’t shove him off quickly enough.

“Yep, definitely looking at you.” Quinlan concludes. “Looks blond, older than us, but like. Not ancient. What are you thinking? Wanna go over? I think you should, he looks like he’d give you a good time.”

Obi-Wan stares down at his drink. Quinlan doesn’t know what Professor Skywalker looks like. He doesn’t know that he’s actually cajoling Obi-Wan into the arms of the one person he’s set against him seeing. If Obi-Wan were a better friend, he’d tell him. But Obi-Wan isn’t. Obi-Wan’s feeling a little tipsy from the drinks, and his legs are all smooth, and he wants to talk to Professor Skywalker. He wants to see if maybe the man could want him if he’s wearing this. If he looks like this.

“I’m gonna go over and talk to him,” he decides in a rush, already lifting himself out of his seat. Quinlan crows in delight and reaches out to steady him when he stumbles a bit.

Water next, Obi-Wan thinks. He’s going to have water next.

It’s a short trip across the room to where Professor Skywalker is sitting. It just feels longer because of nerves. God, what is he doing? Why is he doing this?

But suddenly he’s at Anakin’s table. Suddenly he’s standing right in front of him, drink clutched in both hands, very aware of how much skin his outfit is showing off.

Anakin’s eyes dart down and the back up again before lingering at the exposed skin of his thighs. If it were anyone else, Obi-Wan would think he’s being checked out, but it’s his professor. And no matter how much Obi-Wan may want Anakin’s eyes to stick on him like a brand, he knows the older man would never want that same thing.

“Professor Skywalker, hello,” he finally says, fiddling with the straw in his drink. A few seconds later, he takes a sip, conscious of the way the man follows this motion. If it were anyone else--

But it’s not.

“Obi-Wan, I’ve told you to call me Anakin,” the professor scolds. “Especially outside of the classroom.”

“Sorry,” he says immediately. “Um. Anakin.”

Anakin’s arm drapes itself over the back of his booth as he sits more comfortably in his chair. “Please, sit.”

“I don’t want to intrude or anything, I just saw you and thought I would say--”

“Obi-Wan, sit,” this is a much clearer instruction. Obi-Wan drops into the other chair. Anakin looks him over again. “I have to admit, I didn’t have you pegged for being into this holiday,” he says roughly. “Or so committed to it.”

Obi-Wan thinks he’s probably blushing as red as his hood. “No, I um. You’re right. My friend, I--he wanted me to come out with him, and he only got me two costumes--I wouldn’t, but he--”

“Indiana Jones?” Anakin cuts in to ask sharply. “Sounds like a bit of a controlling boyfriend if he made you do something you’re not comfortable with.”

There’s an air of protectiveness in Anakin’s voice that makes Obi-Wan feel warm on the inside. Even though the professor couldn’t have been more wrong.

“No, no,” he corrects him anyway, even though a part of him is yelling that Anakin really doesn’t care that much about the details of his personal life. “We’re just friends. And I….”

He trails off, and Anakin arches one of his thick eyebrows in expectancy.

It may be that expression, the knowledge that Obi-Wan could give Anakin the answer he’s looking for, or the drinks in his system, but he finds himself continuing, admitting quite quietly, “I like it.”

Anakin straightens in his seat and takes a long pull of his own drink. “You like it,” he repeats. “Am I to assume you’re just a fan of the fairytale?”

Obi-Wan bites at his lip. He knows he shouldn’t say anything more, but....but they’re so far from the lecture hall here. It’s hard to remember why they shouldn’t talk about this. It’s hard not to let his mind wander to what he would say if the person he was talking to was not his professor, but a man he was interested in spending the night with, someone he was trying to seduce.

He shakes his head shyly.

“I like the hood,” he admits, because once he’s thought of it it’s incredibly difficult not to say it. He hardly even tries, if he’s being honest. “The cape is just long enough I can feel it on my thighs. And I like the skirt and--” he hesitates here, but it’s not called liquid courage for nothing. “The lingerie it came with.”

Anakin freezes with his drink halfway to his mouth. Slowly, he sets it back onto the table again and studies Obi-Wan with darkened eyes. His expression is unreadable and it makes Obi-Wan squirm in his seat.

“Fuck,” Anakin breathes out, the word almost lost to the roar of noise in the bar.

Obi-Wan fidgets in his seat. “Actually, sir,” he says suddenly. “I’m sorry, I should go, I only meant to say hello--”

“You should stay,” the professor interrupts, leaning forward and placing his hand on Obi-Wan’s forearm. The touch is electrifying. “For a drink.”

“Just a drink,” Obi-Wan agrees probably too quickly, a part of him responding to Anakin’s pleading expression perhaps more than it should. “My, what big eyes you have,” he jokes in regards to his professor’s begging look.

“The better to see you with,” Anakin replies immediately. For a second, his hand on Obi-Wan’s arm doesn’t move. Then his thumb strokes over the smooth skin there before he pulls back. “My dear.”

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S3:E3; Chapter Three, The Case of The Missing Lifeguard - [Pt. 1]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

𝘌𝘭 𝘨𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘉𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘥, 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘔𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘋&𝘋. 𝘋𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘺 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘙𝘰𝘣𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦��𝘪𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘙𝘶𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘨𝘦.

⚠️: more Billy/Mind Flayer shenanigans, more Y/n being Not Straight™️ and slight, whatever the huffy, whiney hell Hopper was during a majority of the season

📝: yall, idk how to describe hairstyles so I'm gonna clear it up now; the hairstyle Y/n is doing on El is the coil ponytail she wears at the end in That Scene™️ 🥲🚚👋📝🛣

Yes, I regret the whole "sisters" failsafe I put in specifically to stop myself. But as it turns out, no I cannot suppress the gay. So innocent, mutual pining ahead! 🥳🎉🌈

||𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

A pair of sock-covered feet bounce happily on the carpeted floor as Madonna's Angel blasts through the radio on the dresser. Max jumps back and forth on El's bedroom carpet, singing into the hairbrush she had found on the nightstand. Beside her, sitting on the bed is the girl herself, sporting her new colorful look; engrossed in a selection of teen magazines that are splayed out before her.

"You must be an angel,"

El bobs her head along with the tune, careful of Y/n's hand weaving through her hair from where she's kneeled behind her on the bed. She grins up at Max before going back to her work, her lips moving as she silently sings along.

"I can see it in your eyes,"

Y/n finishes the last coil behind El's left ear, and pulls it together with the other, merging her hair into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. After she tightens the bright blue scrunchie one last time, she mutters a defeated, "Alright. I tried," before she maneuvers around El across the mattress and allows herself to fall back on the right side of the bed, her head propped up on the rows of pillows. She grabs a magazine, boredly sifting through it while El delicately feels around the back of her head with a smile, admiring Y/n's work.

"Full of wonder and surprise,"

El's attention quickly returns to the magazine in her hands when she flips the page. She has to turn it sideways to see the whole thing. A young man, who El guessed to be just a little older than Steve, was smiling back at her.

Max's singing and dancing come to a slow when she notices El lingering on the page. With a chuckle, she discards the hairbrush from where she found it and kneels beside the bed.

"Oh, you found Ralph Macchio," Max simpers.

"Macchio?" El asks with a smile.

"Yeah," Max nods. "he's the Karate Kid,"

Both and El and Y/n jump when Max suddenly cuts the air in a mock karate chop and yells, "Hai-yah!"

They giggle and Y/n just rolls her eyes playfully. Particularly, at what comes next.

"He's so hot, right?" Max asks.

An amused grin glues itself to Y/n's face as her eyes peek out over the top of magazines to catch El's reaction. Y/n's smile spreads, buried under the pages when she sees El's face lit up in a blush.

"I bet he's an amazing kisser, too," Max says, drawing out a funny look in El's eyes. "Hey, uh,"

Y/n finds her eyes drawn to Max when she feels the old mattress dip a little under her weight. She notices a funny, almost intrigued look on her face.

"is Mike a good kisser?" She asks.

Y/n lets out an involuntarily "Blech!" At the question, discarding her magazine back to the pile with her nose scrunched up in disgust despite the smile still on her lips.

El laughs at Y/n, lightly shoving her knees that sat propped up above her as she shoots her a smile. "Not 'blech',"

Y/n has to readjust her head on the pillows to gawk up at El properly, a funny look hidden in her eyes.

"Wait, so is he like, actually," Y/n makes another face, failing to get through the sentence with a straight face. She laughs a little, putting a mocking tone in her voice. "'good' at kissing?"

El doesn't answer right away, much too confused with the direction this conversation had gone. She blushes again, giving her awaiting friends a bashful shrug.

"I don't know. He's my first boyfriend,"

Max is quick to correct her, but she does so gently. "Ex-boyfriend,"

El's face falls.

But Max is also quick to console her. She lands a gentle hand on El's shoulder, her voice going soft.

"Hey, don't worry about it. Okay?" El still doesn't seem too sure. "He'll come crawling back to you in no time, begging for forgiveness."

Y/n subconsciously fiddles with the ring pop still on her finger, a thin sheet of plastic still covering the candy diamond.

"I guarantee you, him and Lucas are, like, totally wallowing in self-pity and misery right now," Max's face scrunches up as she mocks the aforementioned exes. "They're like, 'Oh, I hope they take us back!'"

Y/n laughs, her left hand lightly smacking Max's arm, grabbing her attention.

"Yeah, but, Mike's probably more like," Max fights a sudden laugh when she catches the knowing look in Y/n's eyes. "'I hope they take us back! They have to—'"

Neither Max nor Y/n can fight the grin breaking out on both their faces as they finish in perfect sync.

-"take us back! Nyeh-nyeh-NYEH!"

Once again delightfully confused, El's stare travels between her newest best friend and her oldest; a warm feeling burrowing deep in her chest and gut, her stomach aflutter as she laughs with them.

"God, what I wouldn't give to see the look on their stupid faces," Max says, shaking her head wistfully.

El goes quiet, something neither of her friends miss.

"What is it?" Max asks.

That seems to snap everything into place, and Y/n props herself up on her hands. There's enough mischief in her eyes to match El's, and she quirks a brow.

"Wait. Are you serious?"

El only smirks, shrugging her shoulders.

"Will someone please tell me what's going on?" Max asks, only to find herself under two impish stares.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

El sits cross-legged against her dresser, the radio switched to static sitting just above her head. In her hands is the multi-colored headband Y/n had gifted to her over the holidays when her hair started to fall in her face. They both knew it could also double as a comfortable, makeshift blindfold in case she ever found herself traveling to the void again.

As she prepared to do now.

She hooks the headband over her head, pulling it down over her eyes as Y/n and Max took a seat.

"Is this really gonna work?" Max asks excitedly from where she's perched on the edge of the bed.

El nods, and Max's face lights up in awe.

"Holy shit, this is insane-!"

"Max."

"Right, quiet. I'm sorry,"

Y/n chuckles up at her noiselessly, completely understanding the excitement of it all. Particularly, since she had never once witnessed El demonstrating these powers unless it had been necessary.

Then came the waiting part.

Y/n had forgotten about the waiting.

It was all they could do. Wait as they watch El draw in a deep breath, allowing her mind to reach out to the person it had most.

She feels the imaginary water at her feet first, as she always did. It didn't take her as long as it used to to fine-tune the distorted voices cutting in and out, much like what she found her radio to do sometimes. But she did it soon enough.

She's back in the void, for the first time in a long while.

Part of her was worried it would be harder without as much practice as she got last year, but it wasn't.

The image that lay ahead of her was clear, the voices even clearer.

"What did I do wrong? What could I have done wrong?"

Mike.

He was laying on the couch. The one from his basement. El recognized it immediately.

And he wasn't alone, that much she  had suspected.

"Do I have to go through this again?" Lucas asks, sounding tired.

He was pacing around the couch, rubbing his face. Will was with them, he was hovering over the small table she had sat at only years ago.

"I see them," El says.

Max lowers herself to the carpet, sitting next to Y/n who leans in curiously.

"What are they doing?" Y/n asks.

"Eating."

The crunch of Dorito chips Mike had shoved into his mouth was loud enough to echo out across the entire void. He continues through an obnoxious mouthful.

"I just don't understand what I did to deserve this,"

El has neared them now, and she turns her head curiously to Will when he scoffed. He looked frustrated, and he sounded it too. But El could tell he was trying to fight it for the sake of his friends' feelings.

"Look, it sucks that that happened," he says. "But why don't you guys try and take your mind off of it for-"

"For the last time, Will. No! Not now," Lucas says, turning away just in time to miss the boy's shoulders slump. He back to Mike, releasing a heavy sigh. "You didn't do anything, Mike. That's my whole point. You're the victim here."

El's eyes fall back to Mike, not all sure about what she was feeling.

"I know," he cries out. "It's just, why is she treating me this way?"

"Mike-"

"I don't know." Frustrated, he shakes his head. "What did I do wrong? What did I do wrong?!"

"Mike, stop it!" Will has to yell to be heard, but his friends eventually turn their attention his way. "you know what you did wrong!"

They watch him carefully, as does El.

Just grateful to have their attention, he softens just a notch "You messed up, alright? But there's just not much you can do right now,"

"He's right," Lucas sighs, bending over to move Mike's feet out of to make room before taking a seat. "I mean, we told the truth and everything,"

Will let out a bitter laugh. "No, you didn't! You got caught! You told them you were shopping for them, but that's it. You still kept lying about your Nana,"

Max and Y/n watch El carefully, the only indication something had happened came from her angered sigh.

"They lied about Nana," she says finally.

"Oh, I knew it," Max hissed.

Y/n merely placed her forehead in her hands tiredly as she waited for more information.

"But we still tried! That's gotta count for something," Mike cries, stuffing more food into his mouth. "I mean, shouldn't that count for something?"

"Mike, relax. Just... relax," Lucas sighs into his hands yet again, clearly exasperated. "And stop asking rational questions."

"I know, I know. You're right," Mike sighs. His expression quickly turned bitter as he sent his friends a sour look. "Because women act on emotion and not logic,"

"Precisely," Lucas nods. "It's a totally different species."

El's breathing grows deeper and for a moment the pair of friends fear the worst. But the truth was, while El didn't quite exactly know what they were saying, she knew it was foul.

"They say we are 'species'."

-"What?"

-"Come again?"

"'Emotion, not logic."

-"What?"

-"Come again?"

Will shifted on his feet, looking unsure as to what to say, or if he should at all.

"Will is upset,"

Y/n scoffs, looking between Max and El. "He should be if they're saying that shit." She fires, worry briefly taking over her anger over the doubtful thought seeded in her mind. Quickly she leaned forward.

"Wait, he wasn't saying that was he?"

Relief sweep over her when El shakes her head.

She finds her eyes on him again, looking as if he was trying too hard to fit in and not say the wrong thing. El hadn't known him for terribly long, but she knew enough to realize this shouldn't be normal.

"Guys," he says, his eyes darting to the small table he had been setting up. "Come on, it's ready. You already said you'd play a month ago when Dustin got back. I've been planning ever since! And I really think it'll help take your mind off of all this."

Lucas groans.

"Will! We already told you. Not right now," he shakes his head as if scolding a small child.

"They are upset with him."

"Why?" Y/n pressed, sharing an equally concerned look with Max.

"They broke up with you, what else is there to talk about?"

"Easy for you to say, you still have a girlfriend!" Mike throws back.

"'Easy for Will to say,'" El repeats.

Y/n could only imagine what they were putting Will through right now. Or just what her words could mean. Her guilt from having to cancel weighed heavier and heavier.

"He says..."

They all watch, El included, as all his frustrations boil over.

"Well, none of that matters now, does it?!"

Shocked at his outburst, Lucas and Mike break into matching, sour grins nevertheless.

"Then join us, Will," Mike says, sharing a smirk with Lucas. "Join us in trying to figure the greatest mystery of all; the female species!"

"What? What's he saying?" Y/n asked.

But she receives no answer. El had fallen quiet.

El cocks her head, her glare thrown to each boy like daggers, feeling an anger of her own. As well as a protectiveness.

That didn't last long, however. Not moments after, Mike seemed to be challenging his own foul behavior. His mouth opened up wide, letting loose a deep and billowing belch.

"Dude," Mike laughed lazily, gesturing around him as he grinned up at his friends. "You can smell the nacho cheese,"

El recoiled, her upper lip hooking in a grimace both in and out of the void.

She's relieved to see even one of them disgusted by his antics — Will, but it doesn't change her annoyance. But it was better, and far less confusing than Lucas who broke out in a sly grin.

"I get that beat,"

"What?" Mike mumbles in between picking his teeth with his tongue.

Baffled, El looks to Will again whose face pales. He quickly shakes his head, his words pleading.

"Oh, no."

"No, Lucas," Mike says, jumping in. "No!"

El watches curiously as Lucas's grin stretches wider — "No, Lucas!" — and he lifts his right leg — "Lucas! LUCAS!" — and...

El stumbles back in shock when the sound hits suddenly. It echoed louder than the burp had — far louder — and only grows louder as Lucas lifts his leg higher.

El rips the headband off her head to reveal her widened eyes, her shoulders moving and falling in a panicked-like state.

Never blinking, her mouth still wrenched open in shock, she turns to gape at her friends.

"What happened?"

She didn't answer.

"Are you okay?" Y/n pressed, fearing the worst.

She breaks out in a grin, a fit of sudden giggles sent her slouching into the carpet and her head landing in Y/n's lap. Max and Y/n welcomed her reaction with open arms, her infectious laughter spreading to them despite the utter bewilderment they were feeling. Y/n looked down at her friend, trying not to laugh.

El managed to peel her eyes open long enough to see Y/n's crooked smile poking into her view of the ceiling and she loses it all over again.

"What?" She laughs.

"What happened?"

El clutched her aching sides. Every time she tried to speak, the silliness of it all stole her words all over again.

It had been completely revolting and

angering. But it was also the most fun she'd ever had in that horrible place. This also being why it was so hard to wipe the smile from her face.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Will stumbled back as far away as possible from the massive stink cloud he was sure would drown him. Mike had stumbled off the couch, waving at the air as Will buried his nose in his shirt.

"Oh, man," Mike groans. "what the hell, Lucas?"

"Come on, that was impressive,"

"So was Will," Mike shoots him a knowing smirk. "Finally realizing the frustrations of the female species,"

"That wasn't what I said," he shakes his head, growing angrier by the second. "I said it doesn't matter if I have a girlfriend or not right now cause I can't see her! Both of us have to clean up your messes and it's the same reason why we missed our six month anniversary last month,"

Both Mike and Lucas wince. "Congrats?"

Will sighs, throwing himself in his seat at the D&D table.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The cabin's front door was nearly thrown off its hinges as an inebriated Hopper stumbled across the threshold. The door slammed shut behind him, shaking the room as he huffed and puffed. Several times he nearly lost his balance just standing still, but despite the blurred vision and numbed senses he could still make out the muffled radio from his daughter's room.

That wasn't good. At least, that's all Hopper could comprehend right away before he pieced together why; that always meant Mike was here.

And the door was shut.

"Hey!" No response. "Hey!"

The ache of rejection and embarrassment he had been feeling all night had been drowned in bottles of wine from Enzo's, numbing a great deal when Joyce had failed to show. But it couldn't quite extinguish his anger, and that was all that was left now. And he had no problem channeling that into this moment.

In his drunken state, he manages to march across the living room without stumbling into anything and his voice rises behind his gritted teeth.

"When I say three inches, three-"

A small yelp and a short burst of hot hair stinging his sweating skin and knocking over the lamp on the desk was the first thing he registered after the boom of the door being busted open. Before him, was the sight of El and her friends lounging across her floor, flipping through magazines and gawking up at him.

He realized then what had happened judging by Y/n drawing in a deep breath, and dropping her head into her hands. She had clearly been especially startled being so close to the door and had inadvertently created a mini shockwave that swept across every loose item in the room. He could hear her cursing into her hands as Max glared up at him.

"Do you knock?! Jeez!"

"Yeah!" El repeated. "Jeez!"

At that moment, Hopper couldn't remember a time he had back-pedaled so quickly. He could hear his slurred words stringing together a nervous apology.

"Wo-wo-oh, hey," he gulps. "I'm sorry."

The three girls continue to gawk up at him from the floor.

"I thought that, uh-,"

"If you were expecting Mike, he isn't here," Y/n said.

"We wanted to have a sleepover," El says, still beyond excited at the thought of having one since Y/n told her about them almost a year ago. "Is that...okay?"

"Yeah,"

The word fell out of Hopper's mouth before he could will it, his entire demeanor melting away in relief.

"Yeah. Yeah. Yeah," he said, his voice going higher than normal as he stumbled through the tension. "Your parents know you guys are here?"

"Yup," Max says, and Y/n nods.

Blazing through the past few moments, or at least attempting to, Hopper waves his arm dismissively and his slurring intensifies.

"Uh, yeah, it's cool. Yeah. That's-That's really cool."

This was great! His "heart-to-heart" had worked. At least the way he did it. He couldn't count on his hands the number of times he had asked El about the others; silently hoping she'd take the hint and get him out of long, awkward discussion. But she never had, she only went on about Mike, and the more the summer stretched on the less he heard about Y/n or—

"Did you need something?" Max asks, snapping him out of his thoughts.

He hadn't realized he had been just standing there, swaying slightly and zoning out.

He was overstepping. He could see that now. And not just because of the embarrassment written all over his daughter's face.

"No, no," he says quickly, shaking his head and making a lazy grab for the doorknob. "Uh, I'll leave. I'll just let you... I'll leave you..."

His voice trails off before being swallowed completely when the door shuts with a click. For a moment, Hopper just stands there processing it all.

A smirk hooked his lips.

No Mike.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Pride Month Resources and Links

168 Ways to Donate in Support of Black Lives & Communities of Color

Save The Tears: White Woman's Guide

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Taglist:

@dickkwad @iblesstherainsdown-in-africa @miscellaneoustoasts @happyandlonely-blog @peeperparkour @ba-responds ​ @bibliophilesquared @blogforhoes @witch-of-all-things-soft @shawkneecaps @whothefuckstolemykeds @daughter-of-the-stars11 ​ @stranger-things4 @kpopanimegirl ​ @nightbu-g @lozzybowe @gizmofishersupremacy @spiderbitch69420

❥ Let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist! ❥

[waywardimpalawriter]

Book Boyfriend a Frankie Morales x Plus Size Reader fic Part two the final

Book Boyfriend

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Plus Size F! Reader

Characters: Frankie Morales, Reader, Santiago “Pope” Garcia, William “Ironhead” Miller, Ben “Benny” Miller, Isabella Morales (OC)

Setting: Two years after the events in Colombia (Triple Frontier)

Rating: R, NSFW

Warnings: Smut, Soft Frankie (yes that has to be a warning), cursing, teasing, unprotected sex, oral (male and female receiving), tooth rotting fluff, mixed with a little hurt/comfort, mention of abuse,

Word count: Part 1: 10,284, Part 2: 16,388 (sorry not sorry, I blame Frankie for the wordiness)��

Summary: You’ve been so engrossed in your currant book series its lead to Frankie feeling a little left out.  

Notes: This is my first Frankie Morales/Pedro Pascal Fic, so I’m hoping everyone loves it as much as I did writing it. Something a little fluffy I thought of while thinking of my own favorite book boyfriends. Using the translator Systran for my very bad Spanish translations. A grateful thank you to @icanbeyourjedi for helping me out with Frankie’s Dog tags.

Tag list: @manalg14​   @songbirdcannabe

From Part 1 

Finally, home from running errands and wrangling a very fussy Isabella though you couldn’t blame her really. Exhaustion setting into your very bones from running around town, stopping around noon at a play/girlfriend's date. Talking with the girls as the kids played, laughing over the latest things their men have done and the newest book in the series everyones reading. Heat flared to life at the memory of Frankie from this morning during your talk when things turned towards the more intimate. Though you’d refused to share the details just saying he’s better than any book boyfriend you’ve read. Getting teased by your friends up until the moment you left for the grocery store with a very sleepy little girl in your arms. 

Chuckling softly you put Isabella down for another longer nap so you could get the rest of the groceries in from the car. Pulling your cell out to dial Santi’s number putting the slim piece of tech between your shoulder and ear having forgot the buds in your purse. Not wanting to waste time on getting the steaks marinated for tonight, you decided a neck pain would be a better choice for now.  

Breathing a sigh when he picks up on the second ring, “What do I owe for this unexpected call?” smooth baritone filtering over the line making you smile. 

“I need a favor Pope.” 

Chuckling, “Finally came to your senses and dropped Fish for me huh, hermosa?” teasing quality to his voice, you picking up the sounds of water running in the background. 

Knowing he’s just playing with you though at one time you’d entertained the idea of asking Santiago out. You never got the nerve up instead one cold beer accidentally poured down your shirt later and here you were with the man of your dreams and his beautiful little girl who you’ve fell in love with. You still chuckle at how sweetly apologetic Frankie had been, cheeks stained red with embarrassment at having spilled his drink over you. Though in reality it almost hadn’t been an accident, as all three guys noticed the way he looked at you. Watching the sway of your generous hips to the music, glancing away when you scanned the bar. Never seeing your own eyes rest on him for longer than normal. Only to dart away and back to your friend on your left. 

They plotted, Will trying to talk Pope and Ben out of the stupid idea, but neither would listen, while Frankie took off to the bathroom. Coming back, he’d made a beeline for the bar to grab another mug of beer, taking up the spot right next to you. That’s when Benny tried to strike, sneaking up to Frankie’s left side looking to ask you out himself. Only to be beaten when you turn towards Frankie and he to you, a guy from behind barreling his way through the crowd and into your back. Pushing you forward and into the glass he held. Cold beer pouring down your front as a warm hand pressed against your thick waist to keep you from falling. Your eyes locked and from that moment on you’d been a goner. 

“Hello earth to Y/N you still with me woman? Or fantasizing about me,” knowing there’s a grin on his lips by the tone of his voice. 

Eyes rolling, as your hands work to finish seasoning the steaks, “Keep dream Pope maybe one day it’ll come true. Through I wouldn’t hold my breath,” snarky comment leaving your lips with a grin tugging the corners. “You busy tonight and tomorrow?” 

“Free as a bird, why you have something planned? Party? Or are you finally gonna ask Frankie to marry you?” the last question only a half joke knowing that the man in question wanted to ask that one himself. 

Gapping for a moment but finding the idea appealing, “Think he’d be okay with that if I did?” Of course, you’d thought about marrying Frankie. Hell for the last year you wanted to ask or at least hint at it. But not wanting to overstep any boundaries he set up for himself. Never brought up, though you’ve thought about it a few times. Finding yourself for the most part content having them both in your life.

“He’d die, but say yes so I think it’s a go,” smiling at the thought. You fit right in with the boys, giving hell just as much as you got. But most of all helping Frankie through his demons, not shying away when things got tough. Rather suiting up for battle with a determination he hadn’t seen in seasoned soldiers. Not to mention the way you took care of Isabella as if she’s your own daughter. “Remember I’m best man, Will and Benny bridesmaids I’m sure they’ll look good in whatever color you choose.” 

Giggling at that idea, “I’ll put them in hot pink dresses, halter tops to show off those muscles,” fully belly laugh roars from your lips at the very through of those two grown men in dresses. Santi’s gruff laughter only serves to spur yours on, making you grip the counter to keep from slipping to the floor in mirth. Sobering, grabbing the towel to dry your laughter tears away, “I’m gonna have to tell them you know that right Pope?” 

Snorting, “Of fucking course you would,” wiping his own mirthful tears away. “Anything else you needed to ask me hermosa and please I don’t do flower arrangements. Cake tasting I’m all for.”

Finished with the streaks, setting those aside to grab the potatoes to get them ready next while answering, “So noted but you might have to fight Benny on that one babe.” Pulling the aluminum foil out to wrap up the fork stuck potatoes, “That’s not why I called actually. I’m wondering if you could baby sit Isabella till tomorrow afternoon?” 

“That’s a no brainer of course I will, Uncle Santi to the rescue,” looking for the car seat and his keys. “I’ve got her bed set up and extra clothes.” 

“No junk food Pope or I’ll skin you alive when I see you tomorrow,” voice taking on a hard mama edge. Already having packed a small bag of items, knowing full well that Santi wouldn’t have them on hand. Nor did you expect the poor inexperience man to know what to feed a two almost three-year-old. “I’ve got her a goodie bag packed with what you’ll need and if anything happens…” 

“I’ll call Will and Ben, we’ll figure it out unless it’s an emergency,” placing his buds in to continue the conversation and setting to work on getting the new car seat in place. Double checking the instructions, he would never let anyone know he used, wanting to keep his goddaughter safe. The very idea of her getting hurt knocked the wind from his lungs. Shaking that thought aside, knowing you wouldn’t ask for this favor if you and Frankie didn’t trust him. “Better yet, we can three men and a baby it tonight.” 

“Oh, good Lord if my child comes back with a tattoo or piecing and drinking a Budweiser, I will have all three of your cocks mounted on my wall.” Trying to make your voice hard but wanting to bust out laughing again. Almost straining yourself from holding back the giggles.  

Fake gasp leaving his lips, “Have some taste woman it’ll be a tequila, if it's Bud blame Frick and Frack for that.” Catching the ‘your child’ comment makes him grin knowing his best friend and Goddaughter are in good hands. “Careful cariño your mama bear is showing.” 

“I’ll show you three mama bear when I’ve strung you up by your balls if there is one hair on my precious child’s head missing,” grinning, knowing that you love that little girl with all your heart. 

“Damn Y/N I didn’t know you were this blood thirsty or is it a cock and ball fascination? Bigger question does Fish know?” biting back the laughter bubbling up, triumphant look on his handsome face when he’s finished putting the car seat. 

Shaking your head small giggle leaving your lips, “Watch yourself Santiago Garcia or you’ll find out just what I keep in my purse.”  

“Now you have me intrigued. Thank packing heat in that monster bag of yours?” sliding into the driver seat phone call switching to the onboard Bluetooth. Plucking the earbuds out to stow them while driving. “When did Frankie teach you how to shoot?” 

Heat tingling your neck, as you sputter out an answer, “He actually didn’t teach me.” 

“What’d mean?” confused frown marring his handsome features as he stops at a red light. Hearing his phone ding for a text message from Frankie, deepening his confusion. “Does Fish know Isabella is staying with me tonight?” 

Thanking God for the last question, “No, I didn’t tell him just yet. It’s a surprise. Why?” 

“He’s texting me now, asking if I can watch Isabella I bet,” pulling into the nearest gas station to answer. “Shall I tell him?” smirking when he hears the low growl from the other end of the phone. “Take that as a no Bella.” 

“I swear on all that’s holy Santiago if you tell Frankie…” 

“Yes, yes you’ll have my dick nailed to the wall as a trophy,” rolling his eyes though you can’t. Light chuckle barely sounds when he reads what Frankie texted, “So, violent today Y/N.” 

Catfish: Necesita un hermano favorito? 

(Need a favorite brother?)

Pope: Nombrarlo 

(Name it.)

Not hearing anything for a moment, bottom lip trapped between your teeth standing in the kitchen worried your plan could fall apart. But trusted Santiago, “What’s he asking about Santi?” 

“Hasn’t yet, just chill Bella like I said he’s probably asking the same question.” Sure, enough the next text that comes in, has another chuckle leaving his lips. 

Catfish: Puedes cuidar hasta mañana? 

(Can you babysit till tomorrow?)

Pope: Lo que está en él para mí 

(What’s in it for me?)

Knowing Frankie’s groaning at his answer, Santi can’t help but tease his best friend. “I was right he’s asking the same thing you owe me five bucks.” 

“Fuck you Pope we didn’t make a bet,” rolling your eyes this time and breathing a sigh of relief. You set to work making the key lime pie for dessert, aiming to get everything ready before Frankie came home from work. Along with a shower and dressed in the new lingerie you bought a week ago. 

“Shame I could use the dollar bills,” shaking his head at the stupid code he and Frankie came up with for strip club. 

Chuckling, “Next time Pope I know the girls miss you raining them with those bills and sticking them in their G-string.” 

“How did…” eyes wide when the phone dinged with another text message. 

Catfish: Tiempo con tu ahijada y debía uno. Además, voy a preguntarle esta noche.

(Time with your goddaughter and owed one. Plus, I’m going to ask her tonight.) 

Forgetting all about how you knew what that code meant, Santiago let out the loudest yell of excitement. Gaining the attention of a few people pumping gas with ‘you crazy’ looks and also making you worry. 

“Pope what’s wrong? You, okay?” genuine fear lacing your tone, holding the phone tighter hand starting to shake. “You didn’t have an accident, did you? Don’t you dare ruin my plans for tonight Santiago Garcia.” 

Knowing the last threat means nothing, Santi tries to calm down not wanting to give away that he knows something about Frankie’s plan. “Yeah,” clearing his throat to hide the fact he’s lying. “Yeah, I’m good cariño just found out my team won,” hoping you don’t see through his lie. Something you’re almost scary good at.

Releasing the breath held trapped in your lungs relieved sigh pushed out along with the air. Heart broken if anything happened to him. In a relative short period of time all four men have situated themselves into your heart in different ways. The very idea of loosing them would shattered the strongest muscle in your body. The wise words of your favorite whiskey drinking Hunter comes to mind that family doesn’t end in blood.

“Don’t ever do that again Santiago or might just have to punish you in ways that won’t you won’t like,” leaning against the counter trying to calm your racing heart. 

“You wouldn’t cariño you love me too much,” grinning, leaning over to scoop up his cell phone from where it landed in his excitement to answer Frankie. 

Pope: Acerca de maldito tiempo hombre, sí, voy a cuidar a mi godhija esta noche para que usted y el pronto para ser esposa puede carajo ​toda la noche.

(About fucking time man, yes, I'm gonna take care of my goddaughter tonight so you and soon to be a wife can fuck all night.)

Chuckling, Pope places his cell phone on the cup holder and restarts the truck heading first towards Will and Benny’s place. Hearing the groan leave your throat followed by a quick ouch. “Now what’d you do?” hissing coming over the speakers in his truck making him worry this time. 

“Just nicked my finger is all Santi I’m not gusting blood or anything. Though I don’t recommend getting lime juice in the cut, hurts like a mother fucker.” Moving to the sink to clean the cut, just one more thing to put you behind in getting things ready. 

“Do you kiss Frankie with that mouth woman?” pulling into the drive giving a couple of blasts on the horn. 

“On the mouth and other places to Pope,” smirking at the disgusted sound leaving his lips. Bandaging your finger up to get back to work. Hearing a horn sound over the cell line, “You hear alright Pope? I heard you honk over the phone.” 

“Picking Will and Ben up then heading over to yours,” seeing the two brothers come out he puts the call on mute to speak with them. Rolling the window down to talk, “Suite up we got ourselves a mission.” 

Glancing between each other than back at Pope, “The hell you say man, the game’s on tonight, Ben and I were heading to the Roadhouse to watch and see how many times Benny get’s shot down.” 

“Fuck you Ironhead,” punching his brother’s arm, leaning on the mirror hearing your voice muttering something over the truck’s speakers. “Why you talking to Y/N?” 

“No thanks man you ain’t my type too many dangly bits for my taste,” snarking back landing his own punch to Ben’s shoulder.

Rolling his eyes, “Y/N called we got babysitting duty tonight, Frankie’s gonna pop the question but neither know of the other’s plans.” 

Loud cheers erupt from both men to the point Santi must bang on the side of the truck to get their attention to shut up. Having heard you ask something he goes to unmute, “What did you say Y/N I couldn’t make it out over Frick and Frack’s noises assholes selves.” 

Huffing, “I asked if one of you could start a fire for me, Frankie gets weird if he knows I did it myself.” 

“That’s cause last time you tried you almost burned the house down woman,” Pope snarked pushing Benny away 

Coming back, hitting Pope in the chest, “Of course, gorgeous we’ll take care of that for you,” Benny chimes in leaning into the window so you can hear him.  

“Down boy, or you won’t get a slice of the pie I’m making,” chuckling you put the phone down long enough to put said pie in the oven and slam the door making you jump a little. 

Playfully putting his hand to his chest, “Marry me Y/N, Frankie doesn’t deserve you.” 

Both Pope and Will snort at that, but it’s your sweet voice that answers with, “Sorry sweetheart I’m spoken for by a sweet little girl who you’ll babysit tonight and one handsome flyboy that does some very wicked things with his hands.”

Groaning, “Don’t give us any visions please I’ll need bleach to get Fish’s naked ass outta my head,” shaking to get the images out. Laying his forehead on his arms while leaning against the truck trying to rub that idea out of his mind, having come to love you like a sister. Will didn’t want to know anything about your sex life. 

“Aww what’s the matter William you didn’t see enough of it while bunking together on tour?” teasing tone to your voice plopping down in a chair to wait on the pie. “What time will you three Stooges get here?” 

Shrugging, “Twenty or thirty minutes give or take, depends on how long it takes the blond wonder twins to pack a go bag.” Santi answers getting murders looks from both men. 

“Make sure you ask them their measurements Santi,” biting your bottom lip to keep from laughing harder. “Let them know pink won’t clash with their skin tone.” 

The looks only intensify combined with a confusion at your words, “Thanks Annie Oakley.” Groaning head dropping to the steering wheel. “Which reminds me you’ll have to tell us the story of how you learned to use a gun. See ya in a few,” hanging up before you can say anything else and dig his hole deeper. 

“What exactly did she mean by measurements?” crossing his arms over muscular chest, glaring at Pope. 

Resting an arm on his brother’s shoulder, “And pink? Really, I’m more of a coral,” trying to keep from chuckling while giving Pope his own glare. Benny realizing what he’d said at the end and tries to cover with adding, “When did Y/N learn to shoot, better yet where’d she get the gun?”  

Shrugging, “Just found out today, gonna ask when we get there.” Knowing you can handle yourself more concerned that you’ve learned the correct way to handle a gun. Never wanting you to actually have a need to shoot but incase Santiago wants to make sure you wouldn’t hurt yourself. Especially if Frankie didn’t show you or know. His mind rewinding to the fact, “Coral? What the fuck dude? How the hell do you even know what that is?” 

Dying of laughter, Benny turns giving both of them the middle finger salute heading back into the house to grab both his and Will’s go bags. As promised Pope pulled into the driveway thirty minutes later, all three exist, not even bothering to knock just walking right in. Fresh baked goodies and coffee brewing meeting their noses, along with a squeal of excitement from a little blur of yellow and blue. 

“Ukcl Po,” flinging herself into his arms, as he’s crouched down to scoop her up unconcerned with his knees popping, spinning around to her delighted peels of laugher. 

Hugging her close, seeing you come around the corner with an arm load of firewood bright smile on your lips. “Good y’all finally showed up thought I’d have to start the fire myself,” joking tone. Using your elbow to wave them in. 

Will passes Pope and Isabella pausing to ruffle her hair, leaning down to give her a kiss on the forehead then going over to take the arm load from you. Making you roll your eyes reluctantly giving it over when he gives you that stern look. 

“I’m not helpless you know I can move a couple of pieces,” tossing your hands up, smacking Will’s shoulder as he passes. 

Shaking his head, “And have Frankie put us on freeze for letting his woman get hurt. Nope, no thank you ma’am I happen to like having certain body parts stay in respective places.” 

“It’s not Fish you have to worry about rearranging parts Ironhead its Y/N,” bouncing Isabella in his arms smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Ain’t that right Annie Oakley?” grin widening when you turn to scowl at Pope. 

“Careful Santi or you’ll wearing the pink dress,” crossing your arms to glare at both men, as Benny chuckles beside Pope. In between making faces at Isabella, her giggles making beautiful music. 

Rejoining the group after dusting his hands on his jean clad thighs, “Anything else you need done Y/N?” scenting the air a small growl leaving Will’s stomach. 

“You got a bear in there William?” taking Isabella from Pope to put her on your hip while walking back to the kitchen and check on the potatoes. 

Low whistle leaving all three men making heat race up your neck a small squirm moves over your body when they see everything you’ve got planned out for tonight. Steaks siting out ready for the grill along with the corn on the cob, salad finished and chilling in the fridge, and the pie cooling. Out of the corner of your eye you spy Benny going towards the pie. Quickly spinning making Isabella giggle to land a hard smack to his hand. He pulls back quickly puppy eyes in place and howls of laughter from the other two men. 

“Ben Miller how dare you try to stick a finger in my pie,” scowl firmly in place, Isabella matching the look or at least trying to its more adorable than anything. 

Unlike yours which is truly scary and has Ben raising his hands in surrender. “You sure you weren’t in the military gorgeous that look alone would’ve made plenty green recruits wet themselves,” backing up when you go to smack his shoulder.    

“Shame none of you will get a slice now,” placing Isabella in the highchair feeling a rush of air pass you by. Looking up to see all three sitting at the table with pleading looks on their faces. Shaking your head smile sliding over your lips, “You three are the worse right Bella baby?” 

“Ight mama,” nodding her head quickly, clapping her hands in excitement. 

To which Ben leans over to tickle her sides making her squeal even louder. Will and Pope both making silly faces none of them noticing when you pull your cell phone out to take a short video. Sending it to Frankie with the simple words “Our family”. Soft smile gracing your features watching them interact. Your heart expanding in love but also hurting. Wishing, not for the first time, that your own mom and siblings where here. 

“Hey,” calling from his spot. Having looked away so Santi wouldn’t see your eyes, turning to pull plates from the cabinet missing the frown turning down his lips.  Raising to go over, “You, okay?” 

Wanting Frankie there to chase away these thoughts you’ve tried to keep buried. You nod not trusting your voice right then to answer with words. Hating how your mood so quickly shifted spoiling the moment. 

Placing a hand on your shoulder to turn and have you face him, “You know you can tell us, me anything Y/N, we’re your family and family takes care of one another.” 

Taking a deep breath wringing your hands in front of you, knowing he’s right. Seeing for yourself the genuine concern in those deep brown pools. “My thoughts went to having my blood family here, my mom,” turning to look at Isabella, “she would’ve loved her so much.” Glancing up to see both Will and Benny giving you reassuring smiles that accompany nods of affirmation having heard Santiago’s words about family.

“Blood doesn’t always make family sweetheart standing by someone through thick and thin, never giving up, letting them into your heart that’s what makes a family.” Taking Isabella’s little hand in his, Ben looks at you his words making you tear up but this time in a good way. Eyes lingering on the youngest Miller for a bit longer. 

Seeing your tears, “I’d cry to if I looked at Benny’s ugly mug, got a face only a mother could love,” trying to lighten the mood. Hearty laughter filling the kitchen when you toss a balled-up towel at Will’s head. Landing perfectly over his face getting high pitched giggles from Isabella.     

“Thank you,” sincerity laced through you tone giving both Miller boys a smile once the towel is off Will’s face. Turning back to Pope to pat his chest, giving him the same smile. “Grab the coffee for me Santi please, looks like I’ve got a pie to cut into.” 

With a two-finger sloppy salute and a kiss to your cheek, Santi grabs the glass coffee pot from the maker, sugar and cream sitting nearby. “Anytime cariño, anytime.” 

Each with their hands full come to the table setting various items down, coffee poured, and pie sliced out with a heavy dollop of Reddi-whip atop. Moans of pleasure leave all three men, along with compliments and praise for your baking skills. Benny proposing once again which you turn down of course. Everyone tucking in after that first bite including Isabella who has more cream on her cheeks, chin, nose and shirt than her mouth. Her babbling on about different things while enjoying her pie. Brought a warmth to your heart, a rightness you hadn’t felt in your life till now. 

Reaching over to wipe off her face, the smile gracing your lips made all three men grin. Santi pulls his phone out to take a couple of pictures to send to Frankie later, knowing he’d want to see them. Hearing the tale tell sound of a camera going off makes your head whip around. 

Hating to have your picture taken when it’s needed, “Really I look like shit Santi and you’re taking pictures?” though you try to be mad at him, you fail knowing he’s doing it for Frankie. 

“Shit…” little voice states making all four grownups turn to look at her, eyes wide before busting out laughing. 

“You’re fault mama bear, I can’t wait till I tell Fish,” gripping the table to keep from falling from his chair laughing, fist banging the hard wood making the plates and forks jump around. 

Face going into your hands to hide your embarrassment from the boys, all of whom can’t stop the gruff laughter from bubbling up in their chests. Worried, Isabella reaches out with a pie covered hand to touch your arm. “Oh, ta mama?” sticky fingers patting quickly. 

Looking over at her you reach to taking her face in your hands, smile breaking through the embarrassment, to kiss her forehead. “I’m okay baby girl, your uncles are just evil is all,” giving her a wink that makes another peel of laughter leave her lips. Turing to Pope, “I may have to make good on that threat to hurt you by shooting you.” 

Still laughing, Santi shakes his head never feeling more at home or free than when he’s surround by his family. Eyes crinkling, he sends a wink to Isabella before fixing his eyes on you. “Speaking of which you never told me who taught you.” 

“Must you know all my secrets Pope?” teasing light entering your eyes that fixed on the man. With a heavy fake sigh, seeing the concern under the mirth, you answer. “My brother actually taught me years ago. Frankie took me to the range for practice a couple of times but we ah,” looking at Isabella she covers the little girl’s ears. “We got banned from the place,” giving them a shrug noticing the way all three were giving you a weird look. “Who knew Frankie like’s a woman who could handle a gun. He got handsy and one thing led to another…” smirk sliding over your lips. 

“Stop, stop, stop I beg you,” from Will.

Waving his hands before covering his ears, humming “It’s the end of the world as we know it” trying to get what he just heard from his head. “That’s so wrong,” from Benny. 

Santiago didn’t look to fazed just a grin on his lips, “That’s Frankie for ya. Should ah known he’s kinky as fu…” 

Whipping around to smack Pope before he can finish that word, “Language Garcia.” 

“Hey, you said a bad word,” winking at Isabella who clapped her pie covered hands at her uncle Pope. “How good a shot are you?” 

Snorting, “Not nearly what Frankie can do but I managed to land a few head and chest shots before it got a little too hot and bothered.” Laughing when all three groan while you rise to pick Isabella up, “Fire please boys and light the grill too while I get baby girl here cleaned up and ready.” 

“As long as you stop talking about yours and Fish’s sex life, I’ll do anything you ask,” Benny begs standing, grabbing the empty plates and mugs. Trying to push the thoughts running through his mind on film reel. 

 Pausing by the kitchen door leading towards the bedrooms, “Careful Ben I might have to take you up on that one. There’s gutters needing cleaned and a garage plus the house needs repainting,” giving him a mischievous smirk at his groan. Pausing to place a chase kiss to his stubbled cheek in thanks for cleaning up. 

“If anyone is evil it’s you woman, go,” waving his free hand at you. “Get our little princess cleaned up we’ll handle this,” heading to the sink to wash dishes. Will heading to the living room to start the fire and Pope out the back door to get the grill going for you. 

Standing there a moment tears pricking the back of your eyes, “Our family little one.” Heading then to her bedroom to change and clean the sticky pie from her hands and face. Coming back out ten minutes later a sugar high little girl running ahead of you and into Will. Who scoops her up holding her against his chest.  

“Y’all might be in for it tonight with sugar baby there,” giving them an apologetic look, handing off Isabella’s backpack filled with cloths and the reusable grocery bag with food to Ben. Giving him a tight hug first, moving to Pope before ending with Will and Isabella giving your little girl a kiss on the forehead. “No, tattoo’s or piercings,” jokingly said a hitch in your voice at seeing her go. 

It's the first time she’ll sleep somewhere that’s not her room it makes your chest tighten in worry. Though you know good well that all three men would protect her with their lives. 

Slinging an arm around your shoulder as you all walk outside, “Don’t worry Y/N we got this have a good time tonight and know that Isa is taken care of.” 

“Three men and a baby huh?” recalling Pope’s earlier comment. “My only question? Which one of you is Tom Selleck?” trying to shake the nerves, using jokes to set everyone including yourself at ease. 

“Who and what are you talking about?” Benny chimed in opening the back door of the truck to place Isabella in her car seat. 

“Guttenberg,” saying the same thing together, you and Pope laugh wrapping an arm around your shoulders for a half hug placing a kiss to your temple. “You’re too young to remember plus it’s chick flick,” quickly moving away from your pinching fingers. 

“They’ve finally cracked, I don’t know what did it but they’ve cracked I tell ya,” Ben playfully mourned only to have Will slam the door almost in his face. 

 “Guess that leaves you as Selleck and me Danson,” Will snarks with a roll of his eyes. “Let’s get this jalopy rollin the Roadhouse waits.” 

“Don’t you even,” giving him a dirty look to which Will just grins, closing the door before you can throw anything at him. “Keep those two in line please Santi.” 

Chuckling, “Don’t worry cariño, princesa is in good hands,” stepping away Pope turns to give you one last wave. “See you tomorrow sometime, just ah let us know when you’re done fuckin don’t want to bring Isa back too soon.” Ducking the mound of dirt you toss at him with a smile on his devilishly handsome face. 

With a wave, you watch them go sigh leaving your lips feeling a little lost without Isabella around. Pocket vibrating breaks you from those thoughts, the guitar solo at the beginning of Angel by Aerosmith starts to play making you smile. Frankie asked you when you made it his ringtone why you picked a song that’s more suited for your ringtone. Shaking your head arms wrapped around his neck explaining that he’s your angel who saved you from yourself. Showing you that despite your size, the past you had you’re worth loving worth cherishing. It took a while for you to actually believe him but once you did, having Frankie Morales as your angel did wonders for your confidence and self-love.

“Hello, my angel,” answering while heading back too inside to get the steaks on the grill and check on the fireplace.   

Leaning against the metal outside wall, one leg bend to press into the builds side, “I think you have that backwards hermosa.” Deep chuckle sounding from his lips, making you shiver despite the warmth of the house. “Pope come get our little one?” 

A shiver of pleasure runs down your body at the sound of his voice, smile blooming widely. “Nope flyboy, my angel happens to actually have metal wings,” giggling leaning against the counter for a moment. “He did, enlisted the help of Benny and Will for the night too,” checking the clock to see you have just enough time to get the steaks and corn grilled along with a quick shower. “Can I expect you at the normal time?” hoping that his asshole boss wouldn’t keep Frankie any longer than a few minutes. 

Bent knee shaking to a beat that’s none existent. His nerves shouldn’t eat at him but the small velvet box rattling around in his pocket gets heavier by the moment. Pulling it out to flip the top still a little unsure if you’ll truly like it. Sunlight caught the round cut chocolate diamond, simply done in rose gold with two trellis of white diamonds cascade down either side. Having bought the ring months back, paying it off a little at a time. Getting lucky by sneaking one of your much-loved rings out to get it sized and back before you noticed it missing. Even hint asking to find out what kind of gems you preferred. Surprised when you tell him about the chocolate diamond. Finding the beautiful stone on a birthday present run with your best friend to the local jewelry store. One that almost matched his eyes and reminded you of him. Soft blush dusted his cheeks at your words that night when you explained tucking away that tidbit of information for later. 

As later came, he went to that very jeweler finding the perfect ring he hoped you’ll love. Above that he prays you’ll say yes to being his wife and mother to his daughter. The very thought of you saying no constricts his heart in a vise grip. One he’s sure will squeeze the organ till there’s nothing left but a hole where you once resided. 

“Frankie?” frowning when no answer comes from the other side of the line. “Everything all right flyboy?” 

Clearing his throat and closing the ring box to stow it back in his pants pocket, “Yes, mi amor everything’s perfect. Sam time as usual, since all the work’s completed there’s just clean up and inventory left.” 

“Don’t be too long baby I’ll have dinner waiting for us, I’ve got a date after all,” teasing tone that’s touched by humor. Knowing you could take this one of two ways and deciding on the provoking one. “My book boyfriend is lonely without me.” 

Groaning, shaking his head and readjusting the cap covering his hair, “Woman you’re teasing again remember what happened this morning when you tormented me. The promise I made you?” Licking his lips at the very thought, “I’m getting my dessert tonight and making you scream my name for everyone to hear.” 

“Promises, promises flyboy I think you’re all talk and no action,” knowing you shouldn’t be teasing him but couldn’t help yourself. Especially when that sexy growl vibrates over the phone making you weak kneed. 

Smiling, Frankie pushes away from the wall needing to get back to work so he could get home to you. “No promise sweetheart just facts,” hating to hang up. “I’ve gotta go mi amor, see you tonight, I love you.” 

“I love you to Frankie, I’ll see you tonight. Now go finish work there’s a present waiting for you when you get home.” Biting your bottom lip, insecurities rising like bile in that back of your throat. Hope and fear warring in your mind after hanging up with Frankie.   

Trying not to dwell on those thoughts while getting the steaks and corn cooked. Once finished you add them to the oven along side the potatoes on warm. Stopping in the living room to check the fireplace and arrange the blankets laying them out for maximum comfort. Heading to the shower to clean up quickly. 

Thirty minutes later, body lotions, hair dry and lingerie in place, putting his camo robe over. You check for what felt like the hundredth time the clock on the wall. Seconds ticking by till Frankie comes home and you’re desperately trying to choose a spot for him to find you in. Laying first by the fire but figuring that didn’t look right. Choosing next to lean against the entrance wall just shy of the door, shaking that idea off as it could expose you to anyone walking down the side walk. The kitchen popped up just causally draped over a chair or the counter. Sighing in frustration when none of the places look right. Till that proverbial lightbulb goes off and your grabbing the book you’ve read for the last couple of nights. Laying on the couch, one leg bent at the knee to show off your bare legs, robe open just enough to display a touch of cleavage and the book open but you’re not really reading. 

Listening for the moment you hear the key slide home into lock, door opening, “Y/N, hermosa where you hiding?” Voice deep and soothing to your nerves a smile tugging your lips upward at the frustrated growl that reverberates from his chest. 

Itching to raise up, show yourself to him but the imp side has you staying in place on display for him. Catching the sound of boots toed off, keys dropped in the little ceramic bowel. Tracking his sock covered footsteps guessing he’s peeked into the kitchen when a soft groan meets your ears. Letting you know his nose took in the smell of dinner. Bottom lip caught between your teeth again patience wearing thin as excitement courses through your veins. Bare foot dancing to the tune of nerves as you peek over to see Frankie’s shadow in the kitchen. Hearing the oven open then close smirk sliding over your lips as another rumble of a groan sounds. 

Soft giggles touch his ears, strong legs eat the distance from the kitchen into the living room. Seeing the fireplace alight, “Please tell me you didn’t…” train of thought crashing when his eyes drop to see you laid out so beautifully for him. Pink tongue coming out to wet his lips, chocolate pools darkening, the twitching in his jeans making itself known. 

Growing even more pronounced with the slow trek your eyes take. Starting at his waist, couch hiding anything lower from your view, licking your lips to trap the bottom one between your teeth. Seemingly a permanent home for the abused lip. Trailing over his shirt covered chest, thick tanned neck that your wanting to nibble. Over his strong jaw and patchy beard, smirk in place when you see his lips parted in shock. Though a part of you worried it’s more because of how little you’re wearing, baring your thick, curvy body to his eyes. However, those thoughts died a very painful death as heat slips into its place with how he’s truly looking at you. 

Unable to keep the gasp from leaving your lips with how desire darken his eyes have become, the crinkling of leather meeting your ears. Making your eyes drop to the callused hands gripping the back of the couch so tightly, knuckles white with the tension and you wonder for a moment if it’ll be ripping soon. Returning your eyes to his, making sure he’s still watching when you return to reading that same paragraph you’ve tried to finish for the last twenty minutes. Loud growl is the only warning you get before the paper bound volume in your hands is ripped away and tossed over his shoulder. 

“Frankie,” trying to infuse a little bit of anger into your cadence. But to your own ears it just sounds breathless and needy. Swallowing hard you rise knowing the robe is opened more baring your black lace covered breasts to his gaze. Going to stand but a hand on your shoulder stops you, sliding down to your arm and tugging you to turn. Kneeling into the couch, the only thing between you both except clothing of course. “Dinner’s ready.” 

Still staring at you, drinking in the sight of your body half exposed to his eyes. Chest raising quickly with every breath you take, the soft smile on your lips that you lick and make him groan. “I don’t want dinner mi amor,” placing hands on either shoulder to push the robe from your body. 

Pooling at your waist the knot still holds fast, “Oh than what do you want mi Rey?” 

“You,” simple word never held so much need and want packed into one syllabi, eyes held to yours. Palms sliding over your skin, talented fingers brush under the lace strap perched on your shoulder. Drawing it down to rest on your bicep, breath hitching when he leans in to place a kiss to where it previously resided. 

Hands going to cup the back of his neck, toying with the short curls under the baseball cap. Head lulling to the side, giving him access to the sensitive skin of your neck. Taking advantage and rubbing his lips over the soft skin. Bearded cheek tickling, making your squirm wanting to pull away but also enjoying the slight burn. One arm stay’s at his neck while the other moves between your bodies giving a little push to his chest. Making another growl vibrate through his body and into yours. Arms coming around your waist to pull you even closer. Teeth ghosting that little spot just under your ear he knows will make you weak. Placing his lips right there to suck a mark while his hands drop to palm your ass and squeeze. A touch of frustration sings through his veins at not having you pressed against his body fully. 

Trying to gather your scattered wits, body thumping with a desperate need, “Frankie,” short whine leaving a dry throat, you try to push him back once more. Not really wanting him to move but the position your both in is only making things difficult. 

“Want me to stop?” Breathing the words into your ear, warm air making a shiver race down your spine. 

Whimpering, “No, but I’d much rather want you closer and not this couch between us.” Loosening his grip on your body, you reluctantly pull back grabbing his ball cap along the way. Soft giggle leaving your lips as you dart out of the reach of his hands. Almost slipping from the couch backwards, managing to catch yourself and get up while placing the cap on your head. Eyeing Frankie as he stands where you left him though leaning forward, as if to jump over the couch to get to you. 

Swallowing hard, heat rising over your skin in the best of ways with how he’s staring at you. An idea pops into your head, fingers going to the knot at your waist. His eyes following the path pausing for a moment to take in your heaving chest, nipples pebbled tight beneath the lace. Licking his lips at the sight before trailing lower to watch with held breath. While nimble fingers untie the knot, letting the Terry cloth fall to pool at your bare feel. Hands itching to wrap around your nearly naked form. To hide from those slowly tracing eyes. 

That make there way back up to your face, hunger, desire, love all warring deeply in those swirling dark chocolate eyes. “Hermosa esposa,” (Beautiful wife.) words spoken almost reverently. Drinking in the sight of your body, wrapped in sheer black lace that hides nothing from his eyes, wearing his much loved ball cap.  Only served to have a streak of possessiveness dance across his mind. Bottom lip caught between his teeth eyes watching caught in the trance that is your beauty with every step you take. 

Swallowing, your feet having a mind of there own as they make the short trek around the couch to stop just shy of reaching him. “Like what you see Frankie?” Worrying your bottom lip, nerves have you fidgeting under the intense stare. Keeping your hands at your sides first then clasping them behind your back. The action pushing your chest out which draws his attention, trying to keep himself from drooling. 

Knowing you’ve said something, asked him a question but his brain doesn’t fire off any response. Instead he steps forward, brushing his fingers over your collarbone, touch light as those deliciously callused digits ghost the skin of your shoulders and down your arms. Wrapping strong limbs around your thick waist to haul you against his strong frame. Gasp leaves your lips that he takes advantage of and swoops in for a kiss that’s anything but delicate. 

Fierce and demanding, pressing his mouth to yours leading with his tongue that goes in to taste and mate with yours. Toying with the muscle before sucking harshly, tasting coffee, something sweet and a flavor that’s all your own. Pulling a moan from deep within your chest that bubbles up at the same time your arms wrap around Frankie’s neck. Pulling him closer wanting to merge the two of you together. His strong body pressing you into the couch, wondering for a moment when you turned, but not caring. As his kiss stole all thought and reason from your mind, turning you to mush in his arms. 

Air becoming a needed commodity making the two of you break apart gasping and resting your foreheads together. “Cariño you can’t wear things like this when I come home.” Pulling back just a little only too groan at the innocently sexy expression in your eyes. 

“Surprise,” tugging at the curls getting a low grunt from the man wrapped around you. “So next time you rather I’m naked spread out on the kitchen table?” Teasingly running your hands up and down his back. Stopping to slide both hands in the back pockets of his jeans, cupping his ass to bring him against your pelvis. 

“Mierda,” head dropping to your shoulder, the bite of the zipper against his cock making him hiss. Needing inside you wanting to make you sing his name for everyone to hear. Panting for breath, “The guys find out about that and they will never eat at the table again.” 

Soft giggles brush his ear, turning your head to press your lips to the shell, “You did say I was your dessert.” 

“I did, didn’t I,” wicked smirk sliding over his lush lips, wrapping one of your legs around his waist to rock against your soaked panty covered folds. Letting you feel how hard you’ve made him, the throb of his shaft beating a rhythm only you can dance too. 

Head tossing back at the feeling, you use that leg to pull him impossibly closer rocking your hips slowly. Lips pressed against his neck, flicking your tongue out to taste the sweat tinged musky skin. Hands moving to his shoulders under the fabric of the red and black plaid to push it from his body down his arms and adding it to the growing pile. Tracing little patterns over his chest soft smirk in place when your fingers brush over his nipples making him hiss at the contact. Lower to the hem of his beige t-shirt clinging to his skin, sliding your fingers under the fabric to tease the warm flesh. 

“I’m your surprise baby, you’re in charge of where this goes,” low growl leaves his lips at your words, making your head spin in desire. That floods your panties with slick and a need to have the man standing in front of you. 

Hands start to dance up his chest, when he bends cupping your ass with both hands and hauling you against his body tighter. Looking over your shoulder to see blankets spread out over the floor in front of the roaring fireplace. “That for us sweetheart?” You nod as he trails one hand around to slide between your thighs and over the soaked gusset of your panties sliding two fingers under the edge and over your puffy swollen lips. “This all because of me?” 

 “You’re to smug Morales,” bitting your bottom lip to keep from moaning. Hips however have a mind of their own as they rock over his questing fingers. “You know that book boyfriend is kinda talented…” rest of the sentence swallowed by the moan exited from your throat. Dropping your forehead to his shoulder a shutter racking your frame with the teasing slide of those thick work calluses fingers through your soaked folds. 

Circling your clit with the tips to give a jolting pinch at the mention of your ‘other’ boyfriend. “Seems I have some competition,” dark chuckle leaving his throat at the same time a whimper leaves yours when he pulls his fingers free to suck clean. Helping you place the leg from his waist to the floor before taking you over to the fireplace. 

Shivers skate across your body at the deep cadence of his tone, the dark promise of what he’s got planned making slick flood your core and drip down your quivering thighs. Fascinated by how deep his chocolate browns have become while staring into those beloved eyes.  

Soft gasp pulled from the back of your throat with his hand upping your cheek, brushing his fingers over the soft skin, free arm wrapping around your waist to pull you flush against him. “When did you get this little number? Better yet why didn’t you take me with you while picking it out?” Dropping his head to the crook of your neck nose brushing over your skin, drawing in the jasmine scent that’s burned into his memory as yours alone. Making his cock throb dangerously. 

Swallowing harshly, “A few weeks ago,” head lulling to the side to give him access. Your own hands returning to that patch of skin just under his shirt. Short nails leaving little tracks over his flesh, marking him as yours. “I ordered it online, first time I’ve worn it other than trying on.” 

“Next time I’m gonna be there to watch you try things on,” nibbling kisses dot your neck and shoulder. His path haphazardly moving to the hollow of your throat, biting down on the sensitive skin and leaving his own purpling mark behind. Sweet moans leave you lips a shiver of arousal pours through your veins at the thought of everyone knowing who you belong to. 

“I’d never get anything tried on if your there flyboy,” nickname rolling off your tongue, brushing your hands higher dragging the shirt with wanting it off. Tracing little patterns with your fingers to brush over both nipples. Making another sharp hiss leave his lips that rest against your collarbone. Breath fanning out hot and moist over your body trying to focus on giving you pleasure. Yet  with each brush of those skillful hands he finds himself getting weaker to your advances. Desperately needing inside you, all those lovely noises you make music to his ears. Taking advantage of the moment you pull back to tug his shirt off tossing it somewhere behind you. Pausing to admire the man who’s captured your heart. Drinking in the sight of his tanned skin, soft yet muscular body gleaming in the firelight. 

You’re truly in awe of this man and so caught up tracing each piece of him you don’t realize he’s stepped closer till warm hands grip your waist. Inching the sheer lace up your body till he gets a peek at the lacy black matching cheeky panties your wearing. Hands gliding around to cup your ass, giving you a hard squeeze, drawing another moan from your lips. Eyes sliding closed as your body sways to lean against him. “Your right cariño you wouldn’t because you don’t need these lacy clothes to tease me. Your mire present does that. You make me rock hard and all you have to do is whisper my name.” Voice taking on an octave lower, filled with a longing and love for you alone. 

“Frankie,” voice low, filled with a deep arousal you try to contain, his words making your heart flutter with love. Knees weakening to the point your sagging against him. Wanting to state the fact he’s got the same power over you. Voice like silk over your skin, making butterflies flutter in your tummy, tingles dance through your body and heat pools low, dampening your panties. “That damn voice.” 

Dark chuckle leaves his lips, hands coming back to bunch the lace in his fists to pull it from your body, joining his shirt. He takes one step back to return the admiration of your body. Fire light dancing off the dips and valleys, highlighting the stiff peaks of your nipples begging for his mouth to worship the soft swells of your breasts and tummy.  How your shyly try to turn away but stay still at the same time. The down turn of your chin however makes a frown appear and a dangerous growl leave his chest. 

Reaching out two fingers to grip your chin raising it and making you look into his eyes. “Beautiful mi amor, you’re stunning, never think you have to hide your body from me,” letting go of your chin to trace a path down your cheek, between the valley of your breasts and around your waist. Pulling you flush against him, feeling his rough body hairs brushing against your softer skin. The satisfaction of having him pressed so intimately soothes all the nerves and dark thoughts making them run squealing back to where they came from. The affirmation of his words through his touch sets your blood on fire with a need to please him. To show him how thankful to have him in your life rises like a tidal wave. 

Cresting the moment you lean in starting to place kisses along his jawline, searching for every spot that draws a moan from his lips. However, Frankie doesn’t let you get very far instead he pulls you back, helping you to sit on the pallet of blankets before the fire. On his knees, he takes the cap from your head placing it on the coffee table behind him. Cupping your cheeks between his large hands, watching you watch him. To lean in for a kiss that’s so achingly tender it has a shiver running over your body that’s got nothing to do with being cold. Arms going around his neck to pull him against you. Teasing the tip of his tongue against the seam of your lips that you open on a sigh. 

Taking that moment to slip his tongue into the warm cavern of your mouth. Tangling your tongues together as your noses brush and angle trying to find the right place to draw in air without having to break apart. When he does your bottom lip becomes caught between his teeth, nibbling the delicate skin, gathering air to dive back in. This time it’s deeper, demanding those little moans from you. He’s rewarded with one that’s dragged from the depths of your soul making a smile tug at the edges against his lips. 

Both gasping for breath, clinging to each other, he noses your chin, running his lips over the delicate skin searching out your mouth again. Drunk on your kisses, the feeling of your hands fisting in his hair, clutching him closer. “Lay back for me hermosa,” opening his eyes to stare at you. Seeing the indecision war with the need to give instead of receive. “You said I’m in charge tonight right?” Nodding not trusting your voice to anything other than totally wrecked right now. “Use your words mi alma.” 

“Yes,” swallowing thickly seeing the desire darkened chocolate eyes bore into your own. A shiver skating across your body at the promise those beloved eyes held. “Yes, I did my love, but you don’t…” he doesn’t let you finish that thought. 

Instead pressing his lips back against yours unhurried. Taking slow sips from your mouth, nibbling your lips, dipping into the warm cavern for little tastes. Making whimpers of need push from your chest as you rub your thighs together for some kind of friction. Warm work roughen hands cup your breasts, giving the soft globes a gentle squeeze. His thumbs circle the peeking nipples before trapping it between it and the index finger. Giving a hard pinch that’s just this side of pleasurable pain. The little tug  going straight to your core, knowing you love how he’s playing you body. Making your back arch against his hand a mewl of need leaving your lips. 

Abandoning your mouth to trail nibbling kisses across your jawline, “I want to mi amor, you’re a goddess and I’m here to worship at your temple.” Breath falling over your neck as those words have a shiver running down your body. Heating the skin, heart thumping behind your rib cage he traces with those wicked fingertips. 

Moving between your legs, rough blue jean fabric abrading the inside of your thighs as he hovers over you. Watching with passion filled eyes, tongue coming out to wet those kiss swollen lips you know you’ll never get enough of. Arms go to wrap around his neck to pull him down to you, but he shakes his head taking both wrists in one of his large hands to place them above your head. 

“Leave them right there sweetheart because if you touch me now I won’t get to taste you,” desperation laces his voice making the cadence drop an octave and drawing a shuttering breath from your lungs. 

Never have you seen this look in those beloved eyes as the one right now, pinning you to the blanket covered floor. Body squirming under that dark gaze, thighs rubbing as fresh slick coats your already drenched panties. “Please,” back arching to press your chest into his hands, desperate to have him in some kind of way. Not above begging to get what you want either, “Frankie I need you,” words coming out on a needy whimper. 

“Patience mi amor I’m a starving man who’s just discovered his favorite dessert,” lips tipped up in a smirk. Resuming his path over your skin. Leaving goosebumps in his wake of teeth nibbling your flesh, sucking kisses placed in spots he knows only serve to make you moan and sigh. His name a whimpered plea from your bitten lips. 

Till reaching the mounds of your breasts, taking one taut nipple between his lips. Sucking sharply and receiving a keening moan that surges straight to his cock. The throbbing pulse robbing a grunt from his chest though he tries to stay unaffected. Your breathy gasps and mewling whimpers start to drive him crazy with passion. Switching to the neglected breast while tugging with his fingers on the abandoned one. Tip of his tongue flicking over the peeked nipple before biting down at the same time his fingers tug the twin. Remembering how sensitive your breasts are and playing them like a skilled master. 

His teasing pulls another shuttering breath from your lungs, sweat glistening over your body. Warmth filling your belly with those familiar tingles, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment drinking in the pleasure Frankie brings to your body. Short gasps and moans leave your parted lips as you try to brag air in your starving lungs. Feeling the first strings of an orgasm start to sing through your veins, knowing he’s trying to kill you sweetly with his mouth. Only to have your eyes fly open and look down when he bites the gentle swell of your tummy. Nuzzling the soft flesh with his nose, his eyes lock with yours. Fingers grasping the band of your panties to peel them down. 

Placing kisses over each inch that’s bared to his hungry gaze. Tongue swirling around your belly button to dip in and nip before placing a kiss just before your soaked, puffy cunt. Impatience rides him hard, wanting to rip the flimsy material from your body. But also wanting you to wear them again. Biting back a groan of frustration he moves to the side pulling the fabric from your body, flinging it behind him. Pausing to taking in your beauty even as you squirm under the intense look in those gorgeous eyes. 

So enrapt by your beauty he doesn’t notice your hands coming down to shield yourself feeling a little self-conscious, till they partially cover your breasts. “Don’t,” the word coming out on a sharp growl that has your eyes snapping back to his. “Don’t ever feel like you have to hide from me Y/N. You’re gorgeous mi amor,” voice rough with unspoken emotions that show in the tight clinch of his jaw. Eyes that drink in every inch of your plush body. 

One hand intertwine’s with yours to bring down against the prominent bulge in his jeans. Hissing when you cup his shaft and squeeze. “You feel what you do to me cariño, what your body does to me?” Seeing you nod, swallowing hard as your fingers tip toe up to above the waist band of his jeans. Drawing your nails lightly over his tummy, watching as he sucks in then exhales making you smile. 

Nimble fingers making quick work with the button and zipper, hand slipping inside the material feeling the throb of his cloth covered cock against the tips of your fingers. Before he pushes them away making you pout at the loss. “Put that lip away sweetheart you’ll get your chance later,” smirk making its way back over his handsome features. Hands placed over your collarbone to draw them down over your curves pausing to dip his head down. Drawing his teeth over the soft flesh of your hips, hands sliding under you to cup your ass. Giving the generous globes a squeeze while sliding down to his belly. 

Groaning when the blanket covered floor makes contact with his erection, moist breath panting over the skin of your hip. Forehead resting on your lower belly to gather himself for a moment. Savoring the softness of your body under him, filling his work roughened hands. Lips worshiping the parts of you that at times make you want to cover and hide. Dipping his tongue along your folds grinning when another keening moan leaves your mouth on a gasp. Back arching to meet his mouth, one arm presses you back down wrapping around your thigh to hold you in place. 

Using those skilled fingers to tease the pearl of your clit. Bullying the little nub with light circling pressure that has stars bursting behind your tightly closed libs. Teeth baring to sink into the flesh of your thigh, leaving marks behind for you to feel tomorrow when your walking a little funny because of him. Repeating the same treatment to the twin thigh while semi ignoring the place you want him most. Only those talented fingers keep with light touches. That serve to drive you crazy with need and want. Trying to buck against him silently demanding more but held in place by his strong arms around your thick thighs. Baring your pussy to his gaze, licking his lips he leans forward to draw just the tip of his tongue from entrance to clit through your folds. Making a soft scream leave your body, smirk sliding back into place. 

That’s still there when you raise your head to look down at him, “Pay back baby…” gasping unable to form the last few words as his fingers have spread your folds. His lips attaching to your clit and sucking harshly, tongue flicking like the beating wings of a hummingbird. Another scream bouncing off the walls as your first orgasm rushes through your system catching you by surprise. Gasping for breath, fingers fisting the blankets below you, tight coil having sprung so quickly your eyes rolled back into your head. 

“Hmm that’s one hermosa I think you can give me another before you take my cock,” chuckling the vibrations shooting through your body making you shake. You try to answer, the words disappear on another whimper, body sensitive to his touches. 

Frankie unwraps his right hand from your thigh, fingers teasing along the seam of your body where thigh meets pelvis. Watching with hooded eyes as you gasp once more trying to collect yourself. Though he doesn’t give you a moment to think, sliding one finger inside your fluttering walls, thrusting slowly. Left hand spreading your folds as his tongue attacks your clit, slowly this time. Giving light little kitten licks, circling with the pointed tip before flicking the throbbing pearl. Crooking the finger inside you to press that little spot with each pass. Adding a second to stretch you open, groaning against your folds, “So tight for me mi amor, every fucking time, God.” Eyes dropping down to watch his fingers disappear inside your tight quivering walls. Curses leaving his lips in broken Spanish his hips rutting against the floor needing relief from the throbbing of his cock. 

He stays transfixed by the sigh of your cunt taking his fingers, the wet sounds with each thrust, the way your thighs shake around him. He adds a third finger, your voice meeting his ears. Though all he can make out if his name and please. Sparing a glance upward his breath catching at what he’s witnessing. Your hands cupping and massaging both your breasts, fingers tugging and pinching the nipples in time with his fingers. The sight burned into his memory one he’ll gladly keep and try to repeat many times over. Seeing you so wanton and free like this bolsters his ego knowing he’s the reason your on display in such a manner. Even as a spark of possessiveness cuts through never wanting anyone else to experience you in this way. 

Sensing eyes watching you, you raise your head to insnare his gaze, licking your lips slowly as your breath catches. Tingles dancing over your body at the way he’s mastered your pleasure. Giving you just what you need and when. Feeling almost as full with his fingers as with his cock though you crave having him deep inside you. But also knowing he won’t give you those desires till you’ve cum once more. Head dropping your back bows when his talented lips seal over your clit. Tongue lapping at the little nub and drawing different patterns to make you see stars explode behind those closed lids. His name chanted to the ceiling while those wicked fingers draw out your pleasure with each stroke and crook. Brushing that hidden spot no man other than Frankie has ever found. A moaning, withering mess under the man’s skilled mouth and hands. That coil tightening in your belly threatening to snap any second. 

Caught between wanting the delicious torture to end but also to continue being the pleasurable pain masochist you’ve become. All at once it becomes too much and not enough, hands shoot down to clutch at Frankie’s head. Tugging his hair and pressing him closer as your orgasm washes over you, his name a scream ripped from your mouth. Breath gasping from your lungs, body shattering around his tongue and fingers. You try to push him away, cunt oversensitive  from the two orgasms he’s brought you. 

Yet he continues tormenting you, with slow thrusts of his fingers, little laps of his tongue. Drawing out your orgasm, working you through each shuttering after shock. Till your spent, hands dropping to your side, eyes closed as you trying to control your breathing. Pulling his drenched fingers from your quivering walls to suck them clean. Humming in satisfaction at your tangy essence, placing one more kiss to your quivering clit making you jump at the contact and moan at the feel, proud chuckle leaving Frankie’s glistening lips. 

Placing kisses as he moved up your body, hovering over you once more. A shutter racing over his frame when your legs wrap around his trim waist, feet crossing at the small of his back to press his swollen jeans covered cock against your tender folds. 

“You’re pretty proud of yourself huh Morales?” Lashes fluttering just peeking up at him to see the smirk forming on his lips. Wanting to be cross with him for all the teasing but couldn’t summing the energy. Fingers carding through his hair tugging at the mahogany strands to bring his mouth down against yours. Tasting the remains of your essence when your tongue dips into his mouth. Mating with his in a dance that pulls a groan from the man above you. 

Hands tracing patterns over his back feeling the muscles shift, short nails lightly digging into his skin as your hips rut in slow circles against his groin. Your own smirk forming when you feel the shutter roll down his body. Detaching his mouth from yours to rest your foreheads together, breath fanning over your face as he tries to hold back just a bit longer. “Now who’s proud of themselves hermosa?”       

Giving a small shrug, one hand coming around to glide up his chest. Brushing over his nipple before wrapping around his neck. “I’d say it’s pretty equal now. Though you’re a little over dressed my love,” free hand sliding down to his ass and giving a squeeze. 

Wrapping his arms around you, Frankie rolls the both of you over, hands going to behind his head. Dark eyes watching you sit up, straddling his waist, wet folds pressing against his throbbing cock. “Undress me princesa.” 

 “Do I get to take my time with you flyboy?” Leaning down to place a chaste kiss to his lips, making sure you rub your body against his. Knowing he’s having a hard time containing himself, catching the way his hands are fisting under his head. “I could really draw this out, pay you back,” with each word you place a kiss. Starting just under his chin, to the pulse point on his neck. Nibbling that little spot for a moment to suck a mark. Moving on to flick each nipple, giving little bites to his sternum. Feeling rather than hearing the growl vibrate through his chest. 

Glancing up to ensnare his eyes, lips pressing into his tummy more times than there are words. Nuzzling the thin line of wiry hair leading down and under his jeans. “Oh look a map it’s a little thin but it seems to lead me to what I want.” Grinning at the groan echoing from his throat, rubbing your cheek into his skin. 

Fingers making quick work of the button, slowly lowering the zipper, hands slipping under the fabric to push from his hips. Leaving his boxer briefs on for now while working those sinfully sexy jeans from his body, depositing the behind you. Sitting on your knees between his legs, drinking in the sight  of your love. Running the palms of your hands up his calves to strong trembling thighs, fingers edging the stretchy material that hides little from your imagination. Bracing one hand on his hip you lean down to kiss the very visible patch of wetness. Knowing the crown of his cock rests beneath, lips much like this morning teasing the sensitive head. As your fingers tip toe up to pull down the band of his underwear. Baring his shaft to your hungry glaze, yanking the undergarment down his legs and straddling his right thigh. Rubbing yourself over the quivering muscle that flex’s with the touch of your wet cunt against his skin. 

“Shit ba… baby please,” whimper leaving his lips at the feel of your soft lips brushing over the crown. Warm breath making him twitch in need, hands having come from under his head to fist the blankets below. Knowing he won’t last long with how your teasing and tormenting him. Eyes rolling to the back of his head when the warmth of your mouth engulfs the crown. Free hand stroking his shaft, pulling the foreskin back to reveal the sensitive cock head to your lips. Tongue finding that one little spot just under the crown which never fails to make him lose his shit.

Hips thrusting upwards filling your gapping jaw having prepared yourself for that very moment and relaxed to take him down. Saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth, coating your fingers helping to lubricate your movements. A whine leaves the back of your throat when Frankie pulls you off his cock, catching sigh of the wrecked look on his face. The trembling of his body, the curses slipping from his lips in a mix of Spanish and English. 

“Can’t wait hermosa, need to be inside you, need you to ride me,” voice desperate and cracking. Not pausing in his movements to line you up, knees on either side of his waist. Like a rag doll you let him position you where he wants, not coming back to yourself till you feel the bunt tip of his cock run through your folds.

“Frankie…” calling out to try and gain his attention through the desire fogged brain. Unsure of the position, one that you’ve never tried together. Though you couldn’t say it not one you hadn’t thought about. You just didn’t want to hurt him by being on top. 

Shaking his head, positioning your body over his throbbing length. One hand wrapping around the base, long light strokes as he lines himself up. Even with his passion hazed mind, he knows your wanting to disagree with him. Making him sit up, cupping the back of your neck, “My choice mi amor I want to feel you around me, watch you bounce on my cock. See these beautiful eyes,” tracing his fingers to your cheek, brushing over your closed lids. “I want to watch you take your pleasure from me. Please mi ángel,” voice deep and tinged with want.

Lifting your lashes to stare at Frankie, using his shoulders to raise up as he teases your folds with his cock. Brushing over your clit, making you tremble in his arms before lining yourself up and sinking down slowly. Till your thick thighs are pressed against his hips, head tossed back at feeling so full. The slight burn of being stretched by his cock never fails to make you shutter in his arms. 

“So fucking wet, tight,” muttering the two words over while burying his face in your neck. Arms wrapping around your waist as yours move to wrap around his shoulders pressing your bodies together. Letting the fullness feeling wash over you, consuming your body. The steady throb of that vein reverberating through your system making you whimper, rolling your hips against his groin. 

“Baby please I need to move,” little whines leaving you lips a gasp wrenched from the depths of your soul when he lays back pressing his cock even deeper inside you. Large hands on your hips grounding him, watching with hooded eyes. Feet planted to thrust slowly up into your quivering walls,  filling you so completely you don’t know where you end and he begins. Not that you care at the moment, as your worry melts away with the tender heated look he’s giving you. 

“Ride me sweetheart,” bottom lip trembling before caught between his teeth. Watching you place a hand on the center of his chest. Rising up till just the cock head rests in the circle of your fluttering walls. Slowly sinking back down teasing the both of you with long deep strokes, moaning when he brushes over your g-spot each time. 

Eyes rolling back a gasp leaves your lips when warm hands come up to cup and massage your breasts. Tugging the peaked nipples making your walls squeeze his shaft tighter. A groan forced from his parted lips at the feeling. Watching the way your features morph in pleasure, biting your bottom lip with eyes tightly closed. 

“Look at me hermosa,” the command is hard to ignore combined with the tugs of his fingers at your nipples making you gasp. You slowly do as he asked entranced by the way he’s watching. Tongue coming out to wet his parched lips, breath catching in his throat at the sigh you present him. Sweat coating his forehead, dripping down the side of his face, chest glistening as you take him in. Hungry eyes devouring the look of pleasure, the needy little grunts expelled from his mouth. “Lean back on my knees I wanna watch my cock disappear into that pretty cunt of yours.” 

Whimpering, pausing your movements to do as he asks. Bracing yourself with hands on either side of you on the floor. Pressing your back against his bent knees that have lowered just a fraction so your spread out backwards on display for his eyes. Hips rolling against his groin, body undulating against him the movements slow and delicate. Filled with a passionate abandonment that never fails to make Frankie smile. Head tossed back gasping breath leaving your parted lips, forgetting about everything that’s not centered on Frankie and the movement of your hips. 

“So beautiful amor,” licking his lips, hand moving down to circle the little pulsing pearl with light pressure. Watching you quiver around him, feeling your walls squeeze his shaft, almost to the point of sucking him in deeper. Eyes glued to the apex of your thighs, observing how his cock disappears while his fingers draw different patterns over your clit. The sight nearly making him cum right then combined with the noises your making he knows it’s not long before he’s falling into the arms of pleasure. 

Siting up unable to keep his hands and mouth from you any longer, Frankie wraps his arm around your shoulders bringing you down with him. Mouth’s attached in a deep tangling of a kiss that’s pulling small little mewling whines and whimpers from you. Keeping his fingers on your clit tapping and circling making you gasp into his mouth. All the more with the vise like grip of his free arm around your waist holding you in place as his hips thrust upwards. In quick and deep punishing thrusts, chasing that high only you can give him but first he wants you to see the stars. Knowing your getting closer with each thrust, the tight clinch of your walls around his shaft, making him grit his teeth. 

With that thought and a need for air you break apart, lips going to your ear, “So fucking good to me mi amor,” groaning breathless. “Taking my cock like a good girl, letting me fuck you like this. Christ the things you make me feel mi vida. I’ll never get enough of you.” 

“Frankie,” another whimper of his name leaves your lips that your bury into his shoulder. Eyes dropping closed the closer you get to your release. Trying to grasp on to your sanity with each deep, hard stroke he delivers to your body. His words only serving to make you shiver even harder and when he hits that spot you blank. Mouth gapping in a silent scream of his name, release washing over you and coating his cock that keeps hammering into your quivering cunt. 

Teeth sinking into the flesh of your shoulder sucking a mark into the soft skin. Working you through your orgasm as his own begs for release. Balls tightening against his shaft as his hips start to falter in his pace. Hot moist breath leaving his nose that nuzzles the side of your throat over the mark he’s left. Eyes clinch tightly, cock throbbing to his heart beat as he spills his seed deep inside your body. 

Both of you are out of breath Frankie moving his hips in short shallow thrusts feeling your combined juices seeping out around his shaft. Groaning when he remembers the one thing he forgot. Hearing the sound you place a kiss to his neck, loopy smile gracing your features. Raising your head to look down at him, hips finally stopped even as the pleasurable after shocks still make your body tremble. 

Kissing his chin, nosing that little spot where no beard grows, nipping the skin gently, “Shall I move baby? Am I squishing you?” 

“Fuck no you ain’t hermosa and if you don’t stop saying shit like that I’m gonna smack your ass. You feel too damn good laying there and I don’t want to move from inside you.” Realizing what he just said heat floods his cheeks staining them a soft red. “I’m sorry mi ángel, I just don’t like you talking that way about yourself.” 

Biting the inside of your cheek to keep the moan from escaping at his words, the force of his tone making you clinch around him tightly. Praying he hasn’t felt the change in your demeanor or the way your heart flutters at his words. Though you should’ve known better when thumb and forefinger pinch your chin to rise it from looking at his chest. 

“Amor?” Having felt that squeeze around his shaft, making his heart hammer against his ribs. “Does that thought excite you sweetheart?” 

Soft whimper leaving your lips with a shake of your head though you focus back on what you’d intended to ask him after hearing the groan. Trying to divert his train of thought away from a newly found kink. “Why’d you groan if not because…” biting your bottom lip when you feel the stinging bite of his hand coming down on your right butt cheek. Chocking on the moan that tries to leave your lips as his fingers rub the offended area. Burying your heated face in his chest that rumbles under your head. “S’not funny Fransisco,” pinching his side getting a yelp that brings a smirk to your lips. 

“Woman you should be wore out,” hearing your playful huff. “Hmm seems I have more work to do mi amor, your still able to think and pinch.” Running his hands over your back, rolling the two of you over so he can stare down into your beautiful eyes softening cock slipping from your warm depths. Making you both groan at the loss. “And as to why I groaned a moment ago,” looking sheepish he leans up to kiss your forehead. Leaving his lips pressed there before speaking, “In my haste to have you cariño I forgot to use a condom.” 

Thinking for a moment, small chuckle leaving your lips that turns into full giggles you can’t keep inside anymore. Holding onto Frankie tightly, burying your face back into his neck, breathless laughter ghosting over his skin. Frown marring his features when he feels the shaking that turns into confusion as those giggles reach his ears. 

“It’s not funny sweetheart we haven’t talked about…” fingers covering his lips to stop the flow of words. 

Eyes locking with the worried chocolate orbits, “Frankie my love if we happen to make a baby tonight I would be over the moon with joy. That’s why I’m giggling,” smiling, little chuckles still escaping. “I want to have your child mi rey,” cupping his cheek to bring his lips down to yours. Placing nibbling kisses before a full press slipping your tongue into his mouth, coaxing a moan from deep within. Pleased smile tugging your lips up as you draw back, “Even if it’s not tonight I wouldn’t say no to trying every night.” 

“Mi amor,” endearment spoken on the tail end of a moan. Smile so blinding its as if the sun has been captured and brought inside to shine just for you. Holding you close he crashes his lips against yours, taking your moans and swallowing them. Sloppy and fierce, a clash of teeth and tongues, each trying to dominate the other. Till air becomes needed and you break apart gasping for breath. “You sure?” Worry creasing his brow, chocolate eyes filling with uncertainty as he looks at you.

Brushing your thumb over the apple of his cheek, leaning up to place your lips over his, “I’m positive Frankie I want to give Isabella a brother or sister to play with.” 

Moving off you, hearing the whimper you make, “Don’t move baby I’m not going far.” Reaching for his jeans a nervous smile sliding over his face as he pulls the little black velvet box from the denim. Pausing to flip the lid staring at the chocolate diamond for a moment, till he feels you move soft hand coming to rest on his back. 

“Frankie?” Undertone of worry in your voice as you raise up on your knees waiting for him to turn and face you. Bottom lip caught between worrying teeth, fearful that you’ve said the wrong thing. Pushed him too far with the baby comments, Santi’s words coming back to you about marriage and asking Frankie first. Before thinking things through fully the words fall from your lips, “Marry me Morales?” 

“What?” Shock coloring his gasp, turning quickly to stare down at you. Swallowing hard, “What did you just ask me?” Trying to keep the box fisted in his hand so you can’t see it yet. 

Knowing there’s no reason for these feelings and thoughts to flow through your mind but his quick movements and no real answer causes the doubt to creep in. Eyes downcast not wanting to see the rejection in those chocolate pools you love so much. “I… I… I mean you don’t have to answer it’s just a silly question. I just thought,” biting you lip to keep the tears from slipping out of there ducts. 

“What silly question amor?” Fighting the urge to tip your chin up to see your beautiful face. Frankie waits and when you don’t answer he opens his fist in front of you. Flipping the box open, “You mean this question mi vida?” 

Gasping, eyes landing on the beautiful ring nestled into the plush black velvet, “Frankie?” Hands coming up to cover your mouth as tears slip free though they’ve changed to happiness as you stare up at him. 

“I wanted to ask you differently baby really I wanted to try something a little more romantic. Maybe candles and dinner, down the on one knee” rubbing the back of his neck scrambling for the right words.

“You mean,” hiccuping as a bright smile tugs your lip. “You didn’t plan on proposing to me naked right after we made love?” 

Rolling his eyes at your snark, free hand coming over to brush your tears away and cupping your cheek, breath catching when you place your own hand on top. Nuzzling the palm and placing a kiss to the center, “You deserve better, something special, flowers and chocolates and music playing. Not us naked…” 

Watery happy smile, placing your other hand over his mouth a moment, “Crap I don’t need Frankie I only want you and Isabella, you’re my life.” Taking a deep breath, scooting closer on your knees till your just a hairs breath away from him, “Yes.” 

“I haven’t asked you yet woman you can’t… wait what?” Chocolate eyes shocked wide by that simple little word. He’d hoped you’d say yes, dreamed of it from the moment he fell in love with you. But to hear you say yes still stole his breath and any other words he’d planned to say. 

Soft giggles leave your lips, dropping your eyes down to the ring box in his hand and back up to his. Wrapping your arm around his neck to pull his forehead down to yours, carding through the short curls at the back of his head. “Then you better ask me flyboy so you can make an honest woman out of me in case you’ve knocked me up.” 

“God sweetheart,” eyes slipping closed for a moment just breathing in your scent and warmth, savoring you, for a few heart beats, until he finally gather’s his wits. “Marry me amor, become my wife mother to Isabella and as many more child’s as you want. I don’t want to live this life without you beside me, please marry me,” whispering he last three words. Heart thumping wildly, fearful it’s all a dream and he’ll wake up back in that rehab with no proper out look for his life. 

“Yes Fransisco, yes I’ll marry you, I love you baby. Though,” watching his eyes open to stare back, so many emotions filtering through those beautiful eyes. “I’m not giving birth to five children I’ll leave at least two for you to push out of your dick.” 

Gruff laughter leaves his lips, arms wrapping around your waist to pull you against him, crashing your lips together in a hard, desperate kiss. Ring forgotten till it slips from his fingers in a bid to cup your ass and press you closer. 

“We can have as many children as you want amor,” unwrapping his arms to bring the box back to show you. Plucking the band from its snuggled confines. He grasps your left hand bringing it to his lips and kissing the ring finger. Keeping his eyes locked with yours while slipping it on your fourth digit, before dropping to look. “Prefect fit.” 

“Just like us,” leaning in to brush your lips over Frankie’s. Smirk gracing your features, “Remember we already have four kids and Isabella’s the mature one.” 

Deep happy laughter leaves Frankie’s chest, arms going back around your waist to haul you against his body. Properly sitting with his back against the couch, cradling you in his arms, playful smile on his lips, “Shame that three of them still need house broken.”

“Frankie,” your laughter joining his as you straddle his thighs settling in his lap. Letting your mirth simmer while looking at your ring, still unable to believe you’re gonna be married. “Pinch me,” soft yelp leaves you, trying to summon a glare to direct his way but failing miserably. 

“What you asked me to pinch you cariño,” soothing the pain he gave to your ass with the palm of his hand, cupping both generous globes to pull your pelvis flush with his. “Don’t worry I’ll kiss and make it all better baby unless you want something different.” Remembering the way you curved into his hand when he spanked you earlier. The memory of how tightly your quivering cunt gripped his cock, makes a moan leave his lips. Cock throbbing against your slick folds, demanding attention from the moment you straddled his thighs. 

Experimentally smacking your ass feeling you quake against him, breath hitching in your throat chocking off a moan. “Frankie,” rocking your hips against his growing shaft. Feeling his fingers dip between your folds finding you soaked and throbbing. 

“Like that don’t you baby, like when I smack this beautiful ass of yours,” low growl leaving his lips that attack your neck. Drawing another whimper of need from deep with in your body. “I know you do, can feel it you’ve soaked my fingers and I’ve barely touched you.” 

Rubbing your nose against his neck breathing in his scent mixed with the heady scent of sex and sweat. Amazed how he’s flipped from the sweet Frankie to sexual beast mode in seconds. “Don’t tease handsome please,” whimpering, all thought leaving your mind except for the way Frankie’s talented fingers feel. Strumming your body like a master to drag out moans and whines of pleasure. 

“As you wish amor,” slipping inside of you slowly, gritting his teeth at the tight squeeze of your walls. “I’m warning you now we’re not getting any sleep tonight baby. I’m gonna have you on every surface of this house I can.” 

Smirking, “Promises, promises Morales,” pulling back to stare into his molten chocolate eyes. “Actions,” gasping when he pulls half way out and thrusts back home. Hitting your g-spot, his pelvis moving to rub against your clit deliciously making stars shoot across your vision. Trying to form the rest of the words to tease him, “Speak louder than,” soft scream leaving when he dips to the side rolling the two of you so he’s hovering over you. 

Grasping your thighs to push them against your chest, pushing his cock ever deeper inside your depths. Eyes rolling back missing the smirk on his plush lips, “You’re saying amor?” Wedging his upper body between your thighs, legs draped over his shoulders, his knees braced apart for stability. Hovering over you with hands gripping your ass to lift a fraction off the ground and start a punishing pace. 

Making good on that truth, neither of you getting much rest that night. Finally eating dinner around mid-night, thankful that Frankie had turned the oven off earlier in the evening. Rewarding him for his thoughtfulness with a blowjob at the dinner table, making good use of the Reddi-whip. In turn Frankie snatched up what was left of the pie having a second helping of his dessert, with you spread out over the kitchen table. 

Reliving that moment in your mind you don’t hear the question Santi asks. Only breaking out of the smirk causing memory when Frankie places his hand on your thigh giving a squeeze. Looking from him back to Santi, “Hmm,” clearing your throat with a sip of coffee. “I’m sorry Pope what did you ask?” 

Chuckling, “Off daydreaming again cariño, hope it’s as good as the smirk on your face.” Lifting a dark brow, Pope watches you for a moment catching the subtle shift of your body, Frankie’s cheeks dusting red. Guessing the two of you spent much of the night and early morning celebrating. If the marks littering the both of you indication anything accompanied by the way your both leaning against each other. 

Thankful he called before driving over with Isabella and eager to hear weather you said yes. Though he knew better than anyone the answer which becomes confirmed while you hugging Will, chocolate diamond glinting in the sunlight filtering through the front door. After a round of hugs, claps on the back and congratulations along with very happy giggles from Isabella everyone settled in the kitchen for coffee. 

Drawing your thoughts back from this morning smirk only growing on your face, Frankie leans over, seeing the intent in your side profile, “Don’t do it hermosa.” Warning growl in his tone, hand still on your thigh giving a harder squeeze. Isabella’s little giggles the only answer he receives to the warning, wrapped in her mother’s arms and oblivious to everything except playing with your hair. 

“Well Santiago if you must know it’s even better,” chuckling evilly when Frankie groans head landing on your shoulder. Blindly reaching over to cover Isabella’s ears. “Just reliving late last night when Frankie got to have his second dessert.” 

Confused for a second, eyes widening comically as he looks from you to the table place he’s currently sitting at and back. “Your telling me,” words sputtering out as he pushes violently backward, chair scratching across the tiled floor. “You could’ve warned a guy Y/N,” shaking his head in part disgust and part amusement. “Tell me you at least disinfected it before we sat down?”

Shrugging, “Where’s the fun in that Pope, besides it’s only fair after all Frankie got to see the stars right there in that chair first.” Licking your lips glancing at both Will and Benny who haven’t caught on yet. The harsh crash of his chair makes you bust out laughing, holding onto the table for support and cleaving into Frankie who’s red as a tomato. 

“That’s just… fucking hell,” wiping at this ass and thighs like there’s something there. 

Confused till he looked between the two of you, the table and Santiago. Deep groan leaving his lips as he head comes down to rest in his hands, “We eat on this table now it has to be burned.” 

“What? Why?” Thinking for a second, comprehension clicking into place Benny jumps up scrubbing his hands along his pant legs. “That’s just wrong so fucking wrong now I have that in may head to. I take back the marriage proposal Y/N, Frankie can have you.” Though the grin on his lips speaks differently. It however doesn’t reach his normally expressive eyes. Hiding a secret he’s kept buried for far to long knowing now there’s no chance of it coming to the light of day. 

“How generous of you Benjamin,” playfully rolling your eyes, giggling when you look at Frankie seeing his eyes have narrowed on his friend. You lean over, “No worries flyboy you know you’re the only one.” 

Chuckling he places a kiss to your cheek giving you a wink, “I know.” Standing to round the table, “So you proposed to my girl huh?” Trying to infuse a touch of anger to his tone that fails miserably with the grin on his lips. “Dude what happened to the code of friendship huh?”

Stepping back, hands up in mock surrender, playful grin o his chapped lips. “You know I didn’t mean it like that Fish, Y/N’s a sister to me.” Words tasting and sounding bitter to his own ears. Looking too Will and Santi for help, finding none except fake disapproving frowns, arms crossed. Glancing at you and Isabella with a pleading look getting no help. 

“Shit,” little voice speaking into the silence every set of adult eyes land on her, giggling follows with little claps of her hands before burying her face in your chest shyly. 

Peels of laughter ring out around the kitchen Will beating the table with his fist, head hanging with broad shoulders twitching. Benny and Frankie leaning on each other as tears of mirth slip down their cheeks, Pope leaning against the island to stay standing up right his own body shaking in laughter. While you hold her close laughing, shaking your head at the sight of your family. “Your daddy and uncles are silly little one,” kissing her forehead locking eyes with Frankie when he turns to you. Seeing the love saturating those chocolate eyes, soft grin pulling at his lips. 

“I love you mi alma’s,” playfully pushing Benny from his shoulder to come around and kiss both your foreheads. 

Reaching up to cup his cheek, bringing him down to touch your lips together in a tender kiss, “I love you to my real soon to be husband.”  

Sure you still read get carried away into another world of your books. However, not so deeply that you neglect your husband’s needs and wants along with your own. Besides you know he’s so much better than any old book boyfriend.

THE END 

[miracleonice87]

Nothing like Christmas prompts to feel the season so I submit: 68 with Mat Barzal

68. winter proposal with Mat Barzal ❄️💍🎄

quick note: I took the liberty of combining two requests for Mat in writing the piece below — this one, and 22 (kissing in the snow) from @kerwritesthings. When I got the kissing request, my mind was already drifting toward a snowy proposal, so when I got the second request later on, I knew what had to be done. hope you all enjoy! (and be sure to scroll all the way to the end for a special treat. 🤗)

quick warnings: swearing. sickeningly sweet fluff. 

_____

Three winters with you. This one made four.

During those winters, Mat had learned just how enchanted you were by the season. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why, but he appreciated your enthusiasm nonetheless. He’d watched you repeat Lorelei’s sentiments about snow — word for word — along with her each time you watched that particular episode of Gilmore Girls.

“Take a deep breath. Do it. I smell snow. It’s coming. I always know. I can smell it, and I’m never wrong. It’s just my favorite time of year. The whole world changes color. Flakes, flurries, swirls, crystals — whatever form it comes in, I’ll take it. We go back, snow and me. We have a beautiful history. Sleigh rides, ice skating, snowball fights. I’ll even take curling. God, I love curling! Hot cocoa, hot toddies. Best time of the year! Welcome, friend.”

You, like her, believed that “everything’s magical when it snows.”

You were also fully convinced that you, too, could smell snow coming. You claimed it was because you had been born during a blizzard — a blinding one, in fact. One that caused your dad’s knuckles to turn white as he gripped the steering wheel on the way to the hospital with your mother.

When you first told Mat that, he rolled his eyes, laughing. Did the same even a year later.

“Sure, babe,” he’d said, chuckling sarcastically. “You can smell snow. Whatever you say.”

But now, he thought that maybe — just maybe — you really could.

Because for each of the last three winters, you’d woken him up in the middle of the night to pull him out of bed and out the front door to stand with you in the freezing cold, all so you could breathe in the sparkling flakes of the first snow of the season, just as they were beginning to fall.

“How did you even know it was snowing?” Mat asked you every time, huffing hot air into his hands to try and warm them up.

And every time, without fail, you shrugged and, with a wistful smile, said, “I just felt it.”

This year, it was his turn to do the honors.

He’d seen the forecast the night before but decided not to bring it up. Snow was rare in Coquitlam — a white Christmas in Coquitlam was even rarer. He didn’t want to jinx it.

He could hardly sleep on Christmas Eve anyway, so when he thought he might have caught just a glimpse of a flurry, he was already sliding into his slippers and peeking out the window, a smile stretching across his lips as he looked outside. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. A light dusting covered the backyard.

This was it.

Mat slowly slid back into bed next to you, gently brushing your hair away from your face, watching your eyelids flutter as you slept deeply, which only made him smile wider.

“Wake up, princess,” he whispered, stroking your temple with his thumb as he placed a tender kiss to your forehead. “It’s Christmas.”

You groaned softly, blinking in the darkness of the guest bedroom.

“Mmm, Maty, nooo, it’s still dark out,” you complained, pulling the snuggly down comforter up past your chin.

Mat breathed a laugh through his nose and continued to comb his fingers along your scalp.

“I know, baby girl, but it’s snowing,” he coaxed softly.

At that, you shot straight up in bed and threw off the covers, squealing as you ran on tiptoe to the windowsill. Getting out of bed once more, Mat watched as you pulled back the curtains and laid eyes on the long-awaited sight, the scene you waited for all year long.

“Oh, my god!” you whisper-yelled, bouncing up and down like a little girl, practically hopping into your Uggs. Mat’s heart swelled, already reaching for your coats hanging on the back of the door. He handed you yours which you yanked on only halfway before grabbing him by the hand and dragging him down the hallway to the back door.

You slid the glass door open and gingerly took those first few steps out onto the back patio, which was shimmering under a blanket of white. Slowly, you walked further out into the yard and looked skyward, inhaling deeply.

“Welcome, friend,” you whispered as you exhaled, a warm grin on your face. You watched the glittering flakes fall for a few moments, then realized Mat hadn’t caught up with you yet.

“Hey, baby…” he spoke simultaneously, and you spun around to face him, your hands immediately covering your mouth as you saw him kneeling down, right there, in the snow, in front of you, his hands tightly gripping something that you couldn’t quite make out.

“I know how much you love the first snow,” Mat began. “And I love how much you love it. You just light up when it snows, especially that very first time. It’s like you’re seeing the world with fresh eyes — like it’s all brand new.” He choked up then, his voice breaking as he sniffled, and you took a few quick steps forward to wrap your hands around his. Mat looked up at you with a grateful smile, and kissed your cold fingers before he continued.

“But baby, I want you to know that that feeling you get — that’s how I feel every single day that I get to spend with you,” he spoke, his voice falling to a whisper at the end of his statement as a pair of tears fell from his eyes. “Every single day. You make me feel brand new. You make me excited about life. You make my world a better place. And I would love nothing more than to get to share all of that with you, every day, for the rest of my life. So…”

As he paused, Mat revealed the object between his palms — a small black velvet box — and you let out a sound that was part gasp, part sob, part squeal — all joy.

“My love... even if I have to get up in the middle of the night once a year and rush out into the snow for the rest of my life — hell, even if we have a baby born in the middle of a gigantic blizzard — it would be the greatest joy of my life if you would spend the rest of your days with me. Will you marry me, baby?” Mat asked, opening the box to reveal a ring even more perfect than what you could ever have dreamed.

You cupped his face in your hands and let out a breathless laugh. “Yes, Maty, yes! Of course!” you cried as you leaned in to kiss him eagerly, unable to get close enough as the snow fell all around you, like confetti from above.

Finally, Mat stood and slid the ring onto your shaking hand. As you looked on incredulously, you whispered, “I was right.”

With his hands settling at your waist, Mat kissed your forehead and asked, “What were you right about, love?”

You threw your arms around his neck and pulled him in for another feverish kiss before you answered, watching the stone in your newest piece of jewelry sparkle against his shoulder under the faintest light of day just emerging.

“Everything’s magical when it snows.”

✨bonus:

[thedumpsterqueen]

Standards of Performance

Here it is!!!!! First chapter of my first fic on my new AO3! This is a multi-chapter, slow burn work. Please let me know what you think, I welcome screaming and incoherent asks about our fave special agent in my inbox. Full text under the cut, or you can find it through the AO3 link below.

AO3 link

Summary:  You're the BAU's newest intern, desperate to prove yourself amongst an established team of much more experienced profilers. Agent Hotchner, the seemingly infallible team leader, sets strict expectations for your performance. He commands your respect without even trying, but is there something more to your relationship than a simple desire to impress your stony-faced boss?

Chapter: 1, Coffee Stains and Neckties

Words: 2388

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Pairings: Hotch x Reader, Hotch x You

Warnings: Not much for this chapter specifically, but let’s just assume general gore and murder stuff, explicit language, and sexual content are fair game form here on out.

Enjoy! I’ll try to update weekly, if not more often. I’ll let you know when I have a more defined schedule!

“Fucking SHIT!”

You cursed as you felt the (very, very) hot coffee soak your new skirt. Grabbing as many paper towels as you could with one hand, you tried to sop up the mess on the floor. The stain on your outfit? A shame, but nothing compared to marring the assuredly expensive cream color of the BAU’s breakroom carpet.

A low chuckle sounded off behind you, and you froze.

For the love of god, please don’t be…

“Morgan! Please tell me you have carpet cleaner, oh my god. I don’t even know how that happened.”

Morgan grinned, as he typically did, sauntering into the breakroom with his hands in his pockets. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, the janitor's got it later. I was looking for you, team meeting in five. You all good? You look a little - ” he paused, probably searching for a descriptor that wouldn’t sting too bad, “ - rushed.”

You stood up, sighing. He was right, after all. You had stayed up late last night poring over psychology textbooks and only just woken up in time to leave your apartment. As the BAU’s newest profiling intern - whatever the hell that actually meant - the pressure of performing to seasoned profilers’ standards manifested in spending practically all your free time buried in research. Hence why your hair was coated in unbelievable amounts of dry shampoo, you were wearing your unflatteringly oversized glasses instead of your usual contacts, and why your frantic attempt at pouring yourself a cup of coffee when you got into work had resulted in the giant wet spot currently soaking your skirt.

At least the skirt was black.

“You’re right. Late night,” you said, rolling your eyes at Morgan’s suggestive eyebrow waggle.

“Not like that, I wish. Just trying to catch up. Don’t really want to repeat last week’s disaster,” you mumbled, referring to the first time you actually got to question a suspect, which had ended up with a wad of saliva hawked in your face. It was only your third week in the position, but damn, if that hadn’t let the wind out of your sails a bit.

“Hey, what did I tell you then?” Morgan asked, as you walked out of the breakroom together. “You’re not a true profiler until you get assaulted by a serial killer!”

“I’m not a true profiler until I finish the year long training program,” you pointed out, “so I think I could do without the spit in the meantime.”

Morgan laughed, opening the door of the team’s briefing room for you. “Well if we’d known you were gonna be so picky, we might have gone with someone else.”

“Who’s picky?” asked Emily, looking up from her seat.

While Morgan laughed and launched into a dramatic retelling of the event as if the entire team hadn’t already fucking seen it in real time, you took your seat at the table. Reid nodded in acknowledgment, and you returned it with a small smile. Damn if he wasn’t handsome, and ridiculously smart to boot, but you were pretty sure your chances with him withered and died when you asked him what he was doing after work last Friday and he answered with, “Reading.” Point taken.

Hotch swiveled in his chair to face the table and you suddenly became acutely aware of how much of a mess you probably looked. It’s not that you cared about his opinion regarding your general appearance beyond the basic standard of professional attire, but his always-intense gaze and stony expression had a way of making you second guess even your most confidently held opinions.

“Sit,” he said, his voice cutting through the rest of the team’s animated chatter.

It would have been hard not to notice how quickly they obliged, not out of fear, but rather a respect and deference so deeply ingrained that it almost gave you goosebumps. You’d never thought of yourself as a follower, per say, but if Hotch was what a leader looked like, you certainly didn’t fit into that category either.

He scanned the table, stopping on you. “New glasses?” he asked, with a single, slightly raised eyebrow.

“I, um, not really, just didn’t have time to put my contacts in,” you stammered.

“Hm,” Hotch said, “They look nice.”

Your cheeks suddenly felt hot, and you thanked him quickly, looking down at your shoes to conceal the pink that was probably spreading across your face. Hotch had a way of speaking that made everything he said sound like the absolute truth, which was probably why such an innocuous little compliment had disarmed you so much.

Still though, jesus christ. Get it the fuck together. You’re not Reid; you’re not smart enough to be this awkward.

Hotch, blessedly ignoring how painful you just made that interaction, addressed the team while JJ passed out files. “We have a new case. Three bodies, all found completely drained of blood in various woods, off hiking trails. Cause of death appears to be blood loss from severed carotid arteries, meaning they were likely strung up and drained before being moved to where they were discovered.”

Reid spoke up first. “Erm, what exactly do you mean by various woods?”

“That’s the unusual thing,” Hotch said, pulling up a map of the southwestern United States on the screen behind him. "Each body was found in a different state, one here, one here, and one here,” pointing to spots in California, Arizona, and Nevada. “However, local police discovered the bodies within hours of each other due to anonymous tip offs, and medical examiners estimate approximately the same time of death for all three.”

Morgan whistled lowly. “So what you’re saying is, this guy kills three victims around the same time and takes a road trip to hide their bodies in places he knows won't be discovered until he calls in.”

“That’s how it appears, yes,” Hotch confirmed.

Rossi shook his head, twirling a pen that probably cost more than your entire wardrobe. “So, how are we splitting this up?”

You whipped your head in his direction. Splitting up? Of course, you should have known it’d only make sense considering the ground to be covered, but your quick mental calculations told you that there were six of them, evenly split into three groups of two, and one odd man out, both in skill and number - you.

“So, who’s getting stuck with me?” you asked, trying to beat everyone to the punch. Not that any of them would voice it, but if you couldn’t project confidence, you figured self-awareness would do.

When you entered the internship as a recent college grad around a month ago, you knew you’d be in way over your head. Everyone else on the team was a seasoned expert, and you were a 20-something with a degree in psychology who somehow managed to charm her way through the interviews of the BAU’s flagship internship program. It’s not that you weren’t smart, you were, of course, but comparatively? You were pretty sure this was shaping up to be a glorified babysitting program, and you were the baby.

“Oh, hush,” JJ said, smiling and shaking her head. You smiled back. JJ had gone out of her way to make you feel welcome, which you were unspeakably grateful for. Between her and Morgan, you sometimes felt like maybe when this year was done, you could actually belong on this team.

Hotch interrupted your pity party. “Rossi, you’re with Reid in Phoenix. JJ and Emily, you’re going to Vegas. Morgan, you and I are going to San Diego.”

He turned to you. “You’re coming with me.”

Your stomach flipped at his words. You knew he had the most to teach you, and you could observe him coordinating the entire investigation from San Diego, but the idea of your performance being directly scrutinized by your boss in such a small group made you more nauseous than excited.

“Please be aware,” he continued, “Garcia is going to have to deal with three times the inquiries as normal. I recommend you only contact her if the information you’re searching for is genuinely too difficult to find yourself.” He gave Morgan a pointed look, to which Morgan raised his hands in mock surrender, grinning.

“We’ll drop teams off as we go,” Hotch said. “Wheels up in thirty.”

____________

As you settled into your seat on the plane, your mind spun, trying to review every piece of psychology knowledge you’d ever encountered. This wasn’t your first case, but it was the first one you got to travel for, which made it feel much more real.

The hours ticked by as the team reviewed the case. You contributed - not much, and nothing they wouldn’t have thought of without you - but it was something. Narcissist, craves attention and spotlight, physically confident enough to detain and murder three women at the same time. The method was throwing the team for a loop, however. Bleeding the victims out was clinical, relatively painless - uncharacteristic of the sexual injuries found on the corpses and the bravado with which the killer executed the rest of the crime.

When you, Hotch, and Morgan trudged off the plane in San Diego, you had been going at the potential profile for hours and even Morgan’s patience was wearing thin.

“Look, Hotch, let’s hold off on speculation until we see the crime scene in person, alright?”

Hotch nodded, and took that as a cue to head straight to the crime scene. You groaned internally - having barely showered this morning and spent half the day on a plane, your greasy hair and coffee-stained skirt would have greatly benefited from a stop at the hotel to freshen up.

It’s not like you have to look good to go stare at a patch of dirt where a dead body used to to be though, right?

____________

Turns out the aforementioned patch of dirt was actually a wooded grove off a hiking trail leading to a nude beach, much to Morgan’s delight. The site itself was uninteresting except for the way the body had been buried - covered up very securely, implying remorse, another characteristic that didn’t make sense with the initial profile.

This commonality between all three crime scenes was hotly debated on the video conference between the entire team when you got back to the hotel. Cross legged on the bed in Hotch’s hotel room, you listened to Reid and Rossi snipe back and forth on the laptop about what the burial method could mean for ten-plus minutes (“It’s clearly just a functional tool to properly hide the body, Reid.” “But you don’t know that, the significance of burial practices can tell us so much more beyond function, it can even tell us about his religious upbringing…”) before Hotch put a stop to it.

“What do you think?” Hotch asked you, turning and looking directly into your gaze. You were suddenly hyperware of the proximity between you two - sitting close enough on the edge of the bed that your thighs were almost touching. Morgan had abandoned his position on the other side of you to stretch out in the armchair by the window halfway through Rossi and Reid’s debate. Hotch’s eyes boring into yours from only a few feet away and the expectant silence of the other team members on the video call spiked your heart rate, and you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself.

“I… agree with Dr. Reid. I think it means something. The position of the hands, they were crossed across the chest, right? He didn’t need to do that. I don’t know if it means he was remorseful, but it was on purpose. I think.”

Hotch nodded, not breaking eye contact. “Good. Let's move forward with that theory.” He turned back to the laptop. “Let me know how interviews with the loved ones go tomorrow. Let’s find the connection between the victims. Call me if you need anything.” After shutting the laptop, he turned to you and Morgan. “Let’s call it for tonight. Meet me in the lobby at 7 tomorrow.”

Having been excused, you and Morgan made your way to your hotel rooms next to Hotch’s. Morgan wished you goodnight, and you unlocked your door and practically sprinted into your shower.

After you got out, you looked around the room, towel drying your hair. It was nice, much nicer than anywhere you’d ever stayed. The abstract art on the walls and the modern, clean white lines of the furniture were lit by the soft glow of the sunset filtering through the sliding glass doors leading to the balcony overlooking the ocean. You poured yourself a glass of wine from the minibar (a reimbursable travel expense, right?) and stepped onto the balcony, breathing in the ocean air.

“Nice night, hm?”

You jumped, nearly spilling your drink down your front for the second time in less than 24 hours. Hotch was sitting in a chair on his balcony to the left of yours, reclining with his hands behind his head. Despite wearing nothing but your thin hotel robe, you felt the urge to avert your eyes from him. His suit jacket was shucked, tie undone and hanging around his neck, and the top two buttons of his white, collared shirt were unbuttoned. You felt like you were seeing something you shouldn’t have, like the cold stoniness of his exterior had shifted just slightly and allowed you a glimpse underneath.

It’s just a couple buttons, calm down. You’re the one who’s barely clothed in front of your fucking boss.

“It is. Shame we can’t go to the beach,” you replied, keeping your eyes forward.

Oh my god, three women were murdered and I just complained to my boss about not being able to go to the beach.

“You’re welcome to get up early and go tomorrow; might be a bit cold,” Hotch replied. You could tell from his voice he was smiling.

You mumbled in affirmation, continuing to avoid glancing in his direction. “Well, I just wanted to see the view, um, I’m gonna get to bed. Goodnight, Agent Hotchner!” You ducked back into your room, and you could have sworn you heard him chuckle before you slid the door shut.

After getting ready, beating yourself up mentally for your complete social incompetence, and tucking in under the plush, white duvet, you drifted off to sleep.

[seijorhi]

asks :))

what i have learned today is that y’all wanna get fucked by some monsters...

What does nostos mean? What language is it in? 🤔 also I of course loved it, mind blown as usual queen

it’s ancient greek! it means homecoming, the idea of a triumphant return home for the hero after a long journey. i found it through looking at the root of nostalgia. in this fic of course it’s kind of a grim tongue in cheek play on it. the reader’s coming back to the mountains, but she’s running away after a bad breakup, and the welcome she gets is... shall we say less than ideal haha

Just read nostos-

First of all as a person who reads monster shit- hell ya. Mhm. That’s some good shit right there. That was DELICIOUS horror. It actually had me a bit nervous and afraid to read what was gonna happen next 😳

Secondly- omg I wanna know what happened next (at the end) 👀 know what I mean??? 😼

ANYWAY AS ALWAYS you never disappoint and your writing is fantastic (if/when you write horror yandere stuff again I’ll be there- frothing at the mouth. A+++++ work ILY💖)

you want me to write the monster porn, just say it bby ghfjdkshgfjkd but ty

Omfg that fic was so good!

Did the readers mom know about monster kuroo?? Or was she just worried because of the previous murder? And did Kuroo somehow manipulate reader into coming back to the forest or was it just a big coincidence? (👁👄👁 there's no such thing as a coincidence)

Looking forward to your future work <3

ty nonnie!! i didn’t have the right space for it, but after kohsuke was ripped apart and eaten kuroo stayed by the reader’s side until late in the night, only disappearing when he heard the reader’s parents/search party approaching. they found her lying in pools of blood (and scattered half eaten body parts), shaking and unresponsive – they knew no animal could’ve done something like that. so they knew something lurked in those woods, but considering the reader had repressed the memories, her mom couldn’t just come out and say it <33

You are an AMAZING horror writer!!!

The uneasiness I got from the conversations with the mom is just *chefs kiss*

A+++++

ahh thank you!! horror is such a hard genre to write because i’m never sure if the suspense and everything’s gonna hit right haha

I read Nostos before going to sleep last night and at the time I was like “sure hope this doesn’t give me nightmares” and thankfully it didn’t lol. But I think I’m willing to take that chance again because it’s so GOOD and I think I’m just going to have to relive it – @ohno-otome

fhdjgbfhjkdfn i’m glad it didn’t give you nightmares bby!! but i also appreciate that haha, i’m an absolute wimp with scary movies and stuff but i just can’t stop watching them haha

I just wanna say that I was listening to "You're a psychotic villain playlist" on youtube while reading Kuroo's oneshot and I can't explain the emotions I felt, but I'd let Kuroo do things to me asdfghjkl – @itishebihime-samaforyou

ooh nice! sometimes the right playlist makes things doubly as fun haha

OH MY GOD!?!?! Nostos was soooo GOOD?!?!? Like it was so creepy (but in a good way), and scary and suspenseful!! And the ending!?!? Omggg honestly one my fav fics from you!! You did my mans Kuroo justice 🥺💖💕

TYYYYYYY i was genuinely concerned i was gonna scare everybody off haha

Ah! The new fic! Chiefs kiss! Magnificent! Bravo!🧚‍♀️✨🧞‍♀️🦖🦭🌹💫

tysm nonnie!!! <33

i’m pretty sure i’m in the same/similar timezone as you? and i do be staying up late to be one of the first to read your fics (i usually stay up late anyways). so imagine my surprise when i see you post in the afternoon. in conclusion, whether you post to align with your european and american readers’ timezone, my gmt+10 arse will still be one of the first to read your fics. also nostos sjdufigyyjf i have to admit, i recently just found out about monster fucking and nostos scratched the itch😫 i feel bad for kohsuke though

bby i always post at like 2-4 in the morning please get some sleep!! the fics will be there in the morning lmao. i kinda low key forget about my aussie/gmt+10 followers because i think there’s like... 3 of you haha

Honestly if i could give u a dollar everytime i got off to your fics, you'd probably be rich by now

lmao the idea that people find my fics hot enough to get off to still blows my mind lol

your newest kuroo fic was so SO good!! its totally okay if you dont want to answer this so you can keep things ambiguous but is monster kuroo planning on killing the reader after he's...done with them

thank you, bby!! but no, monster kuroo isn’t gonna eat her – he’s had plenty of chances to do that if that’s what he wanted, but he has other plans for the poor reader

RHI, I WANT TO STATE FOR THE RECORD THAT I AM OKAY WITH MORE MONSTER FUCKING IN THE FUTURE. i also want to say im not a monster fucker, but that just feels like a lie at this point. okay, now that that's off my chest, i love it. the mystery, the connections of kuroo to a cat. kuroo's probably gonna go and batter around his prey once they're under his grip like my cat does. hopefully the reader will come out somewhat unscathed, if they are ever allowed to leave 😌 love this, love how different it is, the way kuroo just tries to weasel in. very monster and yandere vibes, very you. have i said i love this yet?? id willingly let him get me drunk on his cock, maybe never leave the peace of the mountains again

‘i want to say that i’m not a monster fucker’ bby the denial will get you nowhere haha. just lean in and embrace it hgfjkdlkfgjnkdl ahh but thank you this is such a sweet ask ILY!!!

Omg omg the monster thing kuroo was in ur latest fic is so familiar to me abdhdmfnjfjf. I remember being told abt a monster with VERY SIMILAR characteristics to it (aka the not being able to go inside a house unless invited and using fire to lure ppl out) AND JFC IT TERRIFIED ME. Esp how when i told ppl around me and they didnt recognize what it was, but it was somehow known to the kid that told me abt it.

(Some ppl thought it was familiar but still didnt know what it was)

Do u know what im talking abt? Hopefully u do

-🥚

GHFJDK so the monster in this is kind of based off the nekomata spirit in japanese folklore - they can appear like people, torment victims by reanimating the corpses of their loved ones, they’ve been blamed for forest fires, so it was just fun to use that as a basis and then go buck wild haha. anyway thanks for the ask bby!

Rest In Peace Kohsuke, you would’ve loved Haikyuu season 5😔✊– @joyvstheworld

poor kohsuke deserved better, i’m just mean to the oc’s i throw into fics haha

Monsterfucking ❤❤❤❤❤❤ a little annoyed you're making me simp for yan Kuroo though (a vibe tho tbh). You're so extremely talented!!!! &

This is probably a stupid question, but how did Kageyama react when he couldn't find y/n? How is life with yan Suga? I imagine probably awful BUT yknow maybe the stockholm syndrome set in fast lmao. Sorry, I'm going on a binge reading your stuff. - @oracleofdin

i will not apologise for making you simp for kuroo he deserves it the man’s a snacc. and as far as your second question, suga’s a very caring, very smothering kinda yandere, so i guess in some ways it’s better than what the reader had with kageyama but... pick your poison haha

That was so good. I’m so shook rn I can’t comprehend anything but how good that was and how good a writer you are

TYSM NONNIE!!! <33

Ok, so, I just read Final Girl and the lil' ticket addition to it and just---

Well, ok I've been playing Dead by Daylight a lot lately? And I'm just picturing Tetsu as the newest killer "The Trickster" and I'm positively RANDY.

Your writing is ALREADY thirst inducing and just as satisfying, but this has SENT ME- If you're not familiar, please...

https://youtu.be/iowkiPobYYQ

Understand my thirst. (I'd also like to clarify, I use a different skin for him that gives him black hair and he looks like Kuroo with an undercut.)

~ @the-casual-hedonist 🌸

i love how feral y’all got for final girl kuroo. like bo and akaashi had his fans, but i put a spiked bat in kuroo’s hands and y’all lost your goddamn minds and i love to see it. fghdjkvhfjdkls thanks for the ask bby

idk why but I love preggo reader as long as I don't pretend it's me 😢✋ I hate babies n pregnancy anywhere else other than horny haikyuu fics

i think that’s a valid thing for a lot of fans. the idea of breeding is sexy, the actual getting pregnant and having a kid thing... not so much. but especially with non-con scenario’s, it’s more about the aspect on control than the actual desire to have kids. but yeah, i feel you

Sorry to bother but uh was just wondering in fracture did Osamu kill his wife or was it actually an “unfortunate event” ? Love your work btw!!

he most certainly did :))

LMFAO RHI i totally get not liking cheating/infidelity fics (towards reader) bc IT HIRTS ME SO BAD I CANNOT HANDLE THOSE.

id be reading fics those fics like: tf you mean my yandere aimt gonna baby me and only want me??🤨🤨🤨⁉️‼️

EXACTLY! listen i get that it’s a fucked up fantasy, but in my fucked up fantasy you damn well better have the decency to be loyal smh

Finders keepers is the most beautiful thing I've read by you: I read it twice like I normally do and here's what I figured out the second time (that's when I analyze it and find the little tidbits of things that are much darker than they appear (: )

To start I LOVE THE DETAILS OF THEM NEVER TEACHING READER ANYTHING- at first I assumed "oh they might see her as a little sister or child or something" but realized thAT WAS THE ISSUE!! they infantilize her and isolate her from everyone but her group. the small details like that are what make the story amazing 😎💅

ahh thank you so much, nonnie!! pls this is making me soft 🥺

I just wanted to stop by and say that I love your writing and I hope you're doing well!!! Drink plenty of water and keep up the amazing work :) but seriously you're one of the best fanfic writers I've seen on tumblr! I read your "Imitation" piece about kuroo and i keep coming back to it, it's so good! I did want to ask if you think it'd be possible for the reader to ever escape with the baby (or at least attempt to). Or if Kenma would "help" at all just to put an end to kuroo's antics lmao

kenma would in no way help the reader, and tbh by that point if kuroo did get her pregnant, she’d be far too emotionally dependant on him to actually even want to leave, but thanks for the ask!

You know who I think would be a perfect Yandere in the JJK world? Choso.

🚨Spoilers Ahead🚨

After being locked in a glass jar for however long he was, and all that happened with his brothers, I feel like he would absolutely never let his darling out of his sight. He would be possessive. Obsessive. And Oh So delusional. Sure he’d be your anything - he truly is a softy - but to what end?🤤

choso would make an excellent yandere, ngl 😌

what au/troupe of your fav character(s) that you have written do you like the most?

(rlly hope this makes sense🙏)

i am always a slut for soulmate au’s :))

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Makayla Part Three

Sam Winchester x Reader

Words: 2149

Part One; Part Two

Summary: Tensions are high in the bunker as you make a plan of attack against the vampires. Sam tries to make up for lost time. Everyone bonds with the newest Winchester. 

Notes: Okay, writing Sam trying to figure out how to be a dad is sooooo fun. Also, Uncle Dean is possibly my favorite thing ever. I hope you guys enjoy part three to this series! I’m having a blast!

Special shout out to my amazing beta reader Sarah, @suckmysupernatural​ . I love her so much and honestly, she’s helped me so much in getting these imagines out for you and she has some absolutely killer writing of her own!

Want more Supernatural? Find it HERE

-

“Mom!” You woke up to the sound of your daughter screaming. “Mommy!” Makayla was kicking at the blankets, her little fists swinging at some invisible monster. Another nightmare. You grabbed her and pulled her into your arms. 

“It’s okay, baby. Wake up. I’ve got you.” You rocked her back and forth until her eyes opened, fat tears spilling onto her cheeks. “You’re alright, Kayla.”

“It was the monsters again. The shadow man.” 

“He isn’t here, baby.” You ran your fingers through her hair. “He can’t hurt you.” Your door flew open and Dean and Sam rushed in, Mary peaked out behind them. 

“What is it? Did it hurt you?” Sam rushed to the bed while Dean checked every corner, both holding their pistols. Mary even had a machete at the ready. 

“It’s okay, guys. She just had a bad dream.” You explained, groggily getting out of bed with Kayla still trembling in your arms. “Do you guys have any milk? That usually helps her calm down.” Sam thought for a moment, but Dean responded quickly. 

“Chocolate or white?” Sam turned and gave him a strange look. “What? That stuff is the nectar of the gods, Sammy.” Sam shook his head. 

“I can’t believe you're older than me.” 

“C-can I have chocolate milk, daddy?” Kayla sniffed.

“See, the kid gets it.” Dean scoffed. Mary smacked his arm. Sam was still processing being called dad. 

“Come on, I’ll take you to the kitchen.” Sam held out his arms to take her and you hesitated. Then you remembered that you had been doing this for four years and he had missed all of it. You tried to give him a peace making smile, but he ignored you. Makayla buried her face in his shoulder, trying to hide her tears like a tough girl. Sam sat her down and went over to the fridge, finding the chocolate milk hidden behind a case of beers. 

“I woke everybody up.” Makayla cried, covering her face with her small hands. Sam poured the milk and hurried back over to her. 

“Hey, no, it’s okay.” He soothed, gently pulling her hands away. “Here, have some of this.” He held up the glass of milk to her lips and she drank slowly, her tears eventually stopping. “Better?” She nodded slightly. Sam pulled up a chair beside her, setting the now half empty cup on the table. 

“I bet you never get scared.” Makayla looked at him, her big blue-green eyes filled with awe. Her eyes looked like his. Sam smiled. 

“I get scared all the time.” 

“Really?” She gasped. 

“Oh yeah. In fact, I have nightmares too.” Her mouth fell open and Sam continued, his tone sweet and caring. “I used to be really scared of my nightmares, but you know what I did?” She leaned forward excitedly. “I told myself that I can face anything as long as I remember that I’m not alone. So the next time that you get scared by the…”

“The shadow man.” She shivered. 

“Okay, the next time you get shared by the shadow man, you just remember that you’ve got me and your mom and your Uncle Dean and Grandma Mary. You’ve even got an angel on your side.” Her eyes widened.

“An angel?” Sam couldn’t help but laugh at her excitement. 

“That’s right, sweetie, Uncle Cas is like your guardian uncle.” Cas could barely guard himself most of the time, but she didn’t need to know that. “You can always fight your fears when you remember that you are never alone.” She hugged his arm, her cheek pressed against his shoulder. 

“My mom is right.” She beamed. “You are a hero.” And just like that, Sam Winchester’s heart melted and not just for the little girl clinging to him. Yup… he was in trouble.

-

Sam stayed up most of the night getting Makayla back to sleep so he slept in a little longer than the rest of the bunker. Mary got up first and made the coffee, followed by you and then a very disgruntled looking Dean. You were curled up in one of the chairs, looking over your journal. There had to be some way to connect all of your research to find the vampires’ nest. 

“It looks like that girl has got Sam wrapped around her finger already.” Mary smirked, looking at you as she sipped her coffee. She wasn’t your biggest fan, of course, but heart breaker or not, you still gave Sam what she had always hoped for him- a family of his own. Dean made a sound, but he was still only half awake. 

“So I’ve pinpointed the area of the nest, but not the specific location.” You slid your journal across the table to him. “During slower hunting seasons, they’ve stayed near home in Springfield, Colorado. As far as I know, there’s fifteen, maybe seventeen.” 

“Perfect,” Dean grumbled. You were about to add something when your eyes went wide.

“Dean!” You shrieked, pointing to the doorway. He turned around in confusion. 

“Oh god,” He jumped out of his chair and rushed to Makayla, who had somehow found his pistol and was now pointing it at his mother. “Hey kiddo, I’m going to need you to give that back to me.” He laughed nervously, holding out his hand. 

“How did she get that?” Mary exclaimed. 

“Hell if I know.” Dean kept smiling, hoping that Makayla would calmly hand over his very lethal weapon. 

“That’s a bad word, Uncle Dean.” Kayla scolded, shaking the pistol at him. Dean’s eyes widened frantically. 

“Makayla Mary Y/L/N, give him that gun. You know that it’s not a toy.” Your mom voice instinctively kicked in and Makayla pouted her lip, giving you her classic puppy dog gaze. You could tell that Dean’s resolve was failing to her cuteness, but you were holding strong. You put your hands on your hips. “Now.” She handed Dean his pistol and he quickly tucked it into his waistband. Mary was looking at you, blush spreading on her cheeks. 

“What did you say her name was?” She gasped. You hadn’t even realized that you said her full name. 

“It’s um, Makayla, after my best friend. And Mary… after you.” Even if Sam didn’t know when she was born, you still wanted his family to be a part of her. For the first time since you’d met, Mary looked at you without glaring. She looked really touched. 

“Piggyback ride!” Makayla squealed before suddenly jumping onto Dean’s back. 

“Son of a-” He started until you gave him a stern look. He glared back at you, but underneath his annoyance, he had a tone of affection in his voice when he spoke to his niece. “Alright kid, but only for a few laps.” You looked on with an amused smile. Dean even made a few horse noises, making Makayla giggle. You felt your phone buzz in your pocket. It was Naomi, probably just calling to check in and make sure you were alright.

“Miss me already? How sweet.” You snarked. Your smirk dropped when it wasn’t her voice on the other line. 

“We’ve been looking for you for a long time.” The man drawled. Your heart dropped. You knew that voice. That night flashed through your head. That fake southern sweetness singing your name as they hunted you, your best friend’s blood still dripping from their lips. Montgomery. 

“Where’s Naomi?” You snapped, your changed tone catching Mary’s attention. 

“She was delicious.” He laughed. You tried to focus on your anger to cover up the pain that shot through your chest. 

“I’m going to end you, you bastard.” You said through gritted teeth. He just laughed. 

“We know all about the little team you’ve assembled. It’s touching really. To think I’ve inspired a family reunion.” The vamp mocked you and you could feel the hot tears blurring your vision. “Make no mistake, Y/N. They’ll all die. Starting with that handsome tall one, the one that knocked you up all those years ago. But don’t worry, I have bigger plans for you.” His voice changed to a terrifying growl. “I’m going to turn you, Y/N. Turn you into the thing you’ve hated for so long. And that brat will be your first kill.” 

Montgomery hung up and you looked at the phone with a shaking hand. Don’t let him get to you. Don’t let him get to you. You threw the phone against the wall, watching it shatter on the floor. You didn’t even see Sam standing there. You were lucky you missed his head. Dean put a frightened Makayla down. 

“Hey Kayla, why don’t you go with Grandma Mary for a little while?” Dean gave her a little push towards his mother and Mary took her to the other room. His flashed back to you. “The hell was that?”

“They killed Naomi.” You said, resisting the urge to wreck anything you could get your hands on, especially since Dean was the closest. “They killed her because she helped me.” Naomi was a good friend. Whenever you needed someone to watch over Makayla, it was Naomi’s place that you took her to. No questions as long as you came back in one piece. 

“I’m sorry.” Sam sighed. His kind tone nearly made you break. You needed someone to yell, to blame you for letting this happen. 

“We’ve got to take this sons of bitches out.” Dean was itching to kill and he knew you were too. 

“We need a plan first, Dean. We can’t just go in swinging machetes.” Sam scoffed. “We don’t even know where they are.” 

“We can always draw them out.” You suggested. “They want me, they can come and get me.” 

“What? No.” Sam exclaimed. “That’s not even remotely an option.”

“Sam, it might be the only way to get to them.” You refuted. “They’ve been hunting me for too long. If Montgomery wants to dance, then I say ‘let’s dance’.”

“Did you suddenly forget that this isn’t just about you?” His jaw clenched and he crossed the kitchen to you. 

“I’m doing this for Makayla.” 

“No, you’re doing this for you!” Your faces were too close together and the look in his eyes made you take a step back. “You’ve gotten that sweet girl messed up in your fight for revenge when she should have grown up playing with teddy bears and Barbies.” That was the last straw. This wasn’t just about you. 

“I am not John, Sam.” You spat. How dare he stand there and call you a bad mother? Sam just glared. 

“Really, cause it seems to me you’re just like him. Makayla is growing up just like I did. A parent obsessed with vengeance, no regard for how screwed up they’re making their kid!” He barely finished his sentence before you slapped him.

 Nobody said a word. Sam jerked his head back towards you and Dean was ready to step in before this got ugly. The moment was interrupted, however, by the quiet sound of crying. Your heart dropped and a wave of guilt washed over both you and Sam. Makayla looked up at her parents. 

“We’re supposed to be a family.” She bawled. “Why do you have to fight?” Before either of you could say anything, she took off down the hall. 

“Makayla!” Sam yelled, feeling absolutely awful. 

“Kayla, honey come back!” The three of you went after her, but it was a big bunker and she was a pretty small child. “Makayla!”

“Damn that kid is fast.” Dean muttered. You stopped. 

“Okay, Dean, you go check the dungeon, I’ll go check the bedrooms, and Sam you can look in the garage.” You suggested. Sam nodded, your fight put aside, but not forgotten. His cheek still stung a little. 

“Makayla!” He called out, hearing you and Dean depart for your designated areas. He opened the door to the garage and was surprised to find the door open. “Makayla, come on out.” A cold breeze blew in and he noticed a little huddled form just outside the garage door. He took off his flannel and slowly peeked outside. “Sweetheart, what are you doing out here?” He draped his shirt around her. It might as well have been a blanket. 

“I-I don’t like yelling. The shadow man always yells.” She cried. Sam sighed. He had made his daughter cry because he couldn’t just face his real feelings for you. 

“I’m so sorry sweetie, you’re mom and I were having a disagreement. We won’t yell anymore.” 

“Why did Mommy hit you?” 

“She didn’t mean to.” He gave her a convincing smile. Makayla peeked over his shoulder. 

“Who’s that?” Sam’s brows furrowed together. 

“Wh-” His head was slammed into the ground before he could even turn around. 

“Leave my daddy alone!” Makayla cried and a person in all black picked her up. 

“No…” Sam said hazily, his consciousness slowly fading. “Makayla…”

-

Continue to Part Four

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado

Supernatural: @desimarie12; @deandreamernp; @vicmc624​; @halesandy​ @livshaes​;  @d-whinchestergirl87​;  @mrspeacem1nusone​

Sam Winchester: @theamuz;  @adeliness​

Makayla Series: @rhiannon-the-troublemaker​; @hoboal87​

[nataliedanovelist]

C-137 Vs. 46'\

C-137 Vs. 46'\ = A Gravity Falls & Rick and Morty crossover fic for @stephreynaart! I meant to finish this, like, forever ago, but I did my best and decided this has stayed hidden in my files long enough. I hope y’all enjoy it!

Stanchez for life!!!

~~~~~~~~~~

Episode Placement: GF = after the finale (season 3) R&M = Between S1E10 and E11 (In S2E2, Rick dates 1/12/2015 on the drop-off papers for Jerry. Though Alex hates dating cartoons, it can be estimated that GF took place during 2013 thanks to Sev'ral Timez, so the next summer would be 2014. So… yeah. I put way too much thought into this.)

The vast galaxy in front of them was an endless sea of stars and space-clouds of many different colors. Some were green, some were blue, some were magenta, it honestly looked like a generic Hot Topic galaxy t-shirt.

But Rick didn’t give a shit about some fucking space-clouds or some fucking shop for teenagers who were trying too hard to be goth. Rick didn’t give a shit about the fact that Morty barely knew how to drive the fucking spaceship. Rick only have a shit about getting away from the other fucking spaceships that were after the humans, but he couldn’t drive because Rick had to repair the fucking weapon to kill those fucking bastards. Fuck.

“Aw, geez, Rick, hurry it up!” Morty yelled.

“Don’t tell me how to do my job, Morty!” Rick snapped back as he tinkered with the huge ray-gun that laid by his feet.

The spacecraft jolted to the side as a beam just barely missed it. Rick caught his screwdriver as it flew in the air for a second and he finished the final turn. Rick grinned maliciously and aimed the newest invention out at the enemy. He pulled the trigger and rather than a beam of light or a bullet escaping the gun, it appeared that nothing happened, until each spaceship seemed to be covered with blood and guts from the inside, covering the windows and halting the enemies’ spaceships.

“Oh my God, Rick, what the hell?!” Morty screamed.

“Relax, Morty, you’ve seen worse. It’s just a gun that released microscopic ninjas that slice people up from the inside until they’re nothing b-b-but guts.” Rick burped through the alcohol and leaned on the big gun proudly with a monotone voice and facial expression.

“No, Rick, what the hell IS THAT?!”

Rick looked ahead to see a wormhole of pink, blues, and whites glowing brightly in front of them. Morty was trying to turn the spaceship away, but they were being pulled in by gravity.

“Well, fuck.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Mabel was bouncing like she had springs on the bottoms of her shoes as she held her Grunkle Ford’s hand. They were both wearing ponchos and on their way to the magical part of the forest. Mabel, Dipper, Stan, and Ford had only been back in Gravity Falls for two days and Ford wanted to start off this summer right by bonding with his favorite grandniece in the Multiverse.

Ford felt guilty of the little time they had spent together the previous summer. True, he had arrived home a little late in the season, but he had spent plenty of time bonding with Dipper, leaving not nearly enough for Mabel. Ford loved her very much, but with Dipper things were more predictable. The boy was a lot like him, so Ford knew what to expect and how to bond with him, like playing Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons or working or investigating an anomaly together. Ford had no clue what twelve… thirteen-year-old girls liked and Mabel’s overwhelming flood of love and affection had startled Ford like an old alley-cat.

Still, he admired her positivity and loved to do arts-and-crafts with her. They had captured time last summer for her to make a beautiful hand-turkey on Ford’s six-fingered hand; she had said that the extra feather made it special. The old scientist had no idea what he had done to deserve Mabel… no, he didn’t deserve Mabel, but she seemed to like him, so he owed her some alone-time. Mabel seemed to like the supernatural almost as much as Dipper (Dipper took a more serious approach to it while Mabel seemed to accept everything with loving arms), so Ford offered to take her out to the magical part of the forest over breakfast and Mabel nearly choked on her Stan-cake out of pure joy.

Now, as the morning sun rose and was nearly above their heads, after about an hour of traveling and quietly talking, they were starting to reach the magical part of the forest.

“So, why do we need ponchos, Grunkle Ford?” Mabel asked as she used her free-hand to play with the yellow hood that was over her beautiful brown hair.

“Because the fairies we’re going to investigate are… rather messy.” Ford landed on. The Barf Fairies used to turn his stomach, but after traveling through dimensions for over thirty years, Ford’s stomach had hardened and since Mabel also seemed to have a strong gag-reflex, he decided that he would try to learn more about the less-than-pleasant type of fairies. “I would hate for them to ruin a Mabel Pines original.” Ford added with a smile down at the young teenager.

Mabel grinned braces-free (she had them removed back in February) up at the old scientist, loving it when he called one of her sweaters a Mabel Pines original, and her eyes twinkled when she saw the blue sweater through Ford’s poncho, the one she had made for him with a golden six-fingered hand on the front, like his old journals. “So, these are…”

“Barf Fairies.”

“Right. What do you already know about them?”

“Only that we should avoid whatever they eat.”

Mabel laughed along with him and said, “Okay. Well… I’ve actually never talked to or met a fairy before, so looks like we’re both starting from square-one. Did you meet any fairies out in the Multiverse?”

“Yes, but they were very different than the one here in Gravity Falls. I once landed in a dimension where the seasons changing was caused by the fairies, and in another dimension I met a giant fairy-queen that looked more like a slug with wings covered in glitter.”

Mabel opened her mouth to contribute to the conversation, but they both heard a noise and stopped walking in the woods. The sound had made them think of clanking metal and yells. They looked up and around at the trees, but a little puff of smoke confirmed that they had heard some sort of machine.

“What was that?” Mabel asked quietly.

“I’m not sure.” Ford said honestly and started to walk them to a clearing.

The two Pines left the cluster of pinetrees so they could look around the skies more clearly. It was a beautiful cloudless early-summer day. As they looked up at the heavens above, a flying-disk of a spaceship was whizzing over their heads, having trouble staying up in the air. Ford held Mabel close in fear of it crashing down near them, but the spaceship staggered over the woods and crashed landed from a safe distance.

“Aliens!” Mabel gasped. “Dipper told me about the one under the town! Do you think this is like that one?”

Ford, whose mind was racing, shook his head to try to think straight, and he said, “No, I… I think I know what it is, but… Mabel, I’m afraid the Barf Fairies are going to have to wait.”

Mabel peeled off her poncho and shook her hair free, revealing her purple sweater with a heart and sunglasses on it that matched her red skirt and headband. Ford also took off his poncho, pocketed both of the big yellow articles of clothing in his trenchcoat, but then pulled out his gun. He opened his mouth to tell Mabel to stay close, but she already pulled out her grappling hook and was standing behind Ford, waiting for him to lead the way.

Ford crept back into the woods with Mabel behind him. He had a good idea of what had crashed into Gravity Falls, but he had hoped that he was wrong. He didn’t want Mabel to meet him. Ford was hoping he would never show up in this dimension, but if he was still traveling around the Multiverse…

A low hissing noise from a busted engine told Ford and Mabel where to go. They only had to walk a minute before the spaceship came into view, landing in between two trees and leaving a trail of up-turned dirt in its path before coming to a halt. Ford and Mabel slowly moved towards the ship with their weapons in hand, but they found it unnecessary as a boy stumbled out and coughed into a fist, on his hands and knees and ruffled from the crash.

“Oh geez, oh man, we’re dead. We’re dead. We survived, but we’re dead.” The boy moaned as he slowly stood up. He looked about Mabel’s age, had short brown hair, and wore jeans and a yellow t-shirt with white sneakers.

Mabel pocketed her grappling hook while Ford let his arms fall to his side, but he kept the weapon in hand, just in case. “Huh. That was… not what I was expecting.” Ford said, more to himself than to Mabel.

Mabel stepped forward with her hands up kindly and she cleared her throat, gaining the boy’s attention. He blinked at the two humans and Mabel said in a soft voice, “Uh, hi, I’m Mabel. Are you hurt?”

“What?” The boy asked. He seemed jittery from the crash, his eyes darting and his forehead glistening with sweat. “Uh, n-no. No, I’m fine. I’m…”

“MORTY!”

The boy groaned and squeezed his eyes shut as he tilted his head upward. “Yup, that’s my name. Morty.”

An older man in a white lab-coat with blue-white hair stumbled out of the spaceship, and not out of drunkenness for a change. “Morty, you little…”

“Sanchez.” Ford growled and covered Mable’s ears. He knew this guy had a foul tongue, and while Ford and his brother might have sailors’ mouths, at least he and Stan knew to censor themselves around the kids. Ford’s old friend didn’t.

The old man in the lab-coat looked at Ford and his eyes widened in shock before he grinned. “Oh, no way! Good to see you again, Fordsie!” He laughed, amused by the scenario in front of him. “Great, another genius. Mind giving me a hand with this piece of… erm, crap?”

Ford groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine, the sooner I can get you out of my home dimension, the better.”

The man Grunkle Ford had called Sanchez appeared shocked again and he dug around his coat. “Wait, wait, wait. Your home dimension?” Sanchez pulled out a white flat gun with a green bulb on top and he seemed to be reading off a tiny screen. “Huh. Dimension 46’\. This one’s way out of the loop. There’s no way I could’ve gotten you home with this thing. How did you manage to pull that off?”

“Long story.” Ford said and pocketed his hand in his trenchcoat.

“Grunkle Ford,” Mabel piped and smiled up at the visitor. “Who’s this?”

Ford looked down at his niece and decided to share this piece of his thirty-year-long journey in the Multiverse with her. “Sweetie, this is my old acquaintance, Rick Sanchez. Rick, this is my great-niece, my brother Sherman’s granddaughter, Mabel.”

“Oh, hey, nice to meet you, little lady.” Rick said with a small smile and then jabbed a thumb back at Morty. “That little screw-up is my grandson, Morty.”

“Oh, yeah, like you could do any better, Rick.” Morty huffed with crossed-arms over his thin chest.

“I could do better, Morty,” Rick said and rounded on his grandson. “You know what else I can do? I can also leave you behind on Asteroid 3924987, but I won’t. I can also feed you to a five-headed mega-bird from Bird-Person’s homeworld, but I won’t. I can also send you to the citadel and trade you in for a new Morty, but I won’t, as long as you quit being a pain in the ass.”

“Rick, please!” Ford hissed.

“It’s okay, Grunkle Ford, I heard worse when I went to get a snack and Stan was watching football.” Mabel giggled, remembering the other night when Stan’s team was losing and he let out a long stream of colorful swears that made him turn red when he realized Mabel had heard him.

“Of course you have.” Ford groaned and shook his head. “Well, let’s see what the damage is, Sanchez. What caused the crash? Did your micro-verse battery finally start a rebellion?”

“No, because they know if they do, I’ll get a new battery, Genius. When we came to this dimension through a wormhole we hit a mountain side and a part broke off here…”

The two old men examined the spacecraft and were discussing ways to fix it, meanwhile Morty walked up to Mabel and rubbed an arm nervously. “So, uh… I guess they met out in the Multiverse, huh?”

Mabel nodded; she didn’t know how these two old men knew each other or why these two humans were in a spaceship, but based on context clues, Morty’s guess made the most sense. “Wait, so you two are from another dimension?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Morty said with a shrug. “This is 46'\, right? My dimension is C-137.”

“Wow, cool!” Mabel said with shining eyes that threw Morty for a loop. “So, what’s different over there? Was Benjamin Franklin a man and never accomplished anything? Are dinosaurs still alive? Oo! I bet your sky is lavender-purple all the time, right?!”

Morty laughed a little and rubbed his arm again. “Uh, no. It’s, I think, pretty much the same as yours. My Grandpa Rick says there’s an infinite number of realities that are just slightly different from one another. M-M-Maybe the difference between C-137 and 46'\ is so small and unimportant it’s not obvious.”

“Oh, okay,” Mabel peered over to watch Rick and Ford work together for a little bit and then she smiled back at Morty. “So, do you always go on adventures with your Grandpa Rick?”

Morty sighed in a shaky puberty-voice and nodded. “Yeah, he’s always making me go on these stupid adventures with him.”

“What?” Mabel gasped with a smile. “They’re not stupid! I’d love to go to a different dimension with my Grunkle Ford! I’ve already been on one with him and Grunkle Stan when they had to rescue me from Dimension Mab3L. The other mes were a little self-centered, but it was a lot of fun to punch myself in the face and rescue my great-uncles.”

“Yeah, but from the sounds of it, your - what did you say, Grunkle Ford? - is nice to you.” Morty pointed out. “My Grandpa Rick treats me like garbage all the time, but then again he treats everyone like garbage, so at least he’s only signaling me out to stay hidden from the Federation or whatever.”

“Oh.” Mabel said quietly and held her hands behind her back bashfully, unsure of how to respond, but she decided to try to make Morty feel better. “Well, my other great-uncle, Grunkle Stan, is a little tough sometimes, but that’s only because he cares about his family and is toughening us up for a tougher world. He’s my hero!”

“That sounds nice.” Morty said with a small smile. He didn’t think Rick cared about his family like this Stan guy, but Morty wasn’t in the mood to kill Mabel’s optimism. “I like your sweater, by the way.”

“Thanks!” Mabel grinned proudly. “I made it!”

Morty’s eyes widened. “Wow, really?” Mabel held out her arm so Morty could feel her sleeve. “Oh my God, that’s amazing! You’re really talented.”

“Hey, thanks! If you want, I can make you one!”

“R-R-Really? You’d do that for me?”

“Sure! What’s your favorite color?”

“Uh… y-yellow.”

“Got it!”

Ford and Rick walked up to the teenagers and the six-fingered researcher said, “Well, I’m afraid the ship lost a part we need, but luckily I have the materials we need to build one in the lab back home.”

“Great!” Mabel said and grinned. “Let’s go! So, how did you two meet, anyway?”

Ford and Mabel led the way with Rick and Morty closely behind. “We met about twenty years ago in a high-security prison. I remember feeling relieved to see another human. I had been without human contact for a little under two years at the time since I had been stranded on some desert planet.”

“Yeah, this nerd got into big trouble for the extinction of a few million species on Planet 8824816.”

“What?!” Mabel gasped and looked up at her great-uncle, unable to believe that he would cause such mass genocide. “Grunkle Ford, you didn’t?!”

“Of course I didn’t, Mabel.” Ford quickly reassured his niece. “That was the planet I thought was a sandwich. Anyway, at least I didn’t do what Rick was in for…”

“What did he do?”

“I purposely caused mass genocide on Sector 56, Dimension “”113.” Rick said in a scaringly monotone voice.

“What?!”

“Rick!” Ford and Morty both scolded at the same time.

“Hey, it was either me or the Valakawns!” Rick snapped back. “Those bloodsucking leeches didn’t see what hit them, until the Federation caught me hanging from a tree upside-down, passed out and drunk.”

“Alright, enough!” Ford said firmly. “Let’s just build the part we need so we can get you two back to your home dimension. And, Mabel, once they’re gone we’re going to patch the wormhole with alien adhesive.”

“Okay. Last thing we want is for Dipper to get stuck in Dimension Dipp-3R or something.”

“Who’s Dipper?” Morty asked quietly.

“My twin brother!”

“Oh, cool! I don’t have a twin, but I have met multiple versions of myself.”

“Hey, me too! I’ve met Table-Mabel, Explainble, Threebel, Military-Expert-Mabel, Brainbel, T-Rex-Mabel, Fire-Mabel, and even Anti-Mabel!”

“I’ve met an Evil-Morty with one eye-patch who worked for the worst Rick in the Multiverse. I’ve also… Well, let’s just say I’ve met a lot of mes.”

The two teenagers talked while the two old men chatted on ways to fix the ship as they got closer to the Mystery Shack. Rick looked up and down the place and then snorted, amused. “Huh. Not the kind of place I’d expect from Mr. Stick-In-The-Mud over here.”

“My brother had to make some… changes in order to pay off the mortgage.” Ford explained and led the way to the back door. He opened it and said, “My lab is downstairs behind the vending machine in the gift shop. I believe Soos is giving a tour, so it should be safe to enter.”

“Gift shop?” Rick laughed and poked Ford’s shoulder. “When did you get so soft?”

“I am not< soft.” Ford said dignified.

“You’re wearing a blue sweater with a gold six-fingered hand.”

“My niece made it for me!” Ford said proudly and puffed out his chest.

Mabel rolled her eyes with blushing chubby cheeks and a smile and decided to let the old guys fight. She took Morty’s hand and said, “Come on! I’ll show you my room! I have a huge sticker collection you’ll love!”

“Oh, okay!” Morty said and allowed her to drag her up to the attic; it was nice being dragged to something nice and safe rather than some new monster of a different dimension.

“But hey, you turned your lab into a gift shop.” Rick was saying while the teenagers did their own thing. “Least you’re making a profit.” Ford wasn’t sure if Rick was being sincere or not.

“Actually, it’s all my brother’s.” Ford said and waved the subject away. “We’re getting off track. Let's just get you and your grandson out of my dimension.”

“Geez, you used to be way more fun.” Rick said with sagged shoulders. “What happened to the guy who ranked up million on Lottocron Nine and got tattoos with octopus-armed piglets? What happened to the interdimensional criminal who once shot fifty Bureaucrats to save a fellow scientist’s ass?”

“He discovered what was most important, Sanchez.” Ford growled with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Oh, HO!” A voice laughed as he shook his head and left the kitchen. “I know this guy isn’t talking about Mr. Goody-Nerds-Shoes!”

Ford pinched the bridge of his nose. The last thing he wanted was for his twin and his old friend to meet, but it seemed like some greater being(s) really wanted this to happen, so here we go.

Rick grinned at the sight of a conman in his suit and fez, with a can in his hand, instantly giving Rick the vibe that this guy couldn’t be trusted but would be a hit at parties and wasn’t a total snitch. “Now THIS is what I’m talking about! Name’s Rick, Ford Two.”

Stan barked a laugh and shook his hand. “The name’s Stan, Genius. And please for the love of Moses you weren’t just talking about my brother?”

“Are you kidding, this guy was a total badass!” Rick jabbed a thumb back at the fuming scientist. “He was a total idiot, had no clue how the Multiverse worked, but he was always willing to barrel into whatever crap was out there and destroy some shit!”

“Okay, you and I need to talk.” Stan tossed him the can of soda and went into the kitchen to get some snacks. “I wanna hear more about what kind of crazy violent nomad Ford was back in the day!”

“You got it! Just tell me how the hell he ended up with a cool twin? What, did you inherit all the fun traits leaving him with hobbies like collecting alien stamps?”

Stan barked a laugh and was back, looping an arm around his skinny neck. “I love this guy! Now, please tell me you were there when he got his stupid tattoo.”

“Stanley,” Ford scolded. “We’re supposed to be working on building the part he needs so he can go home. Rick and his grandson are stranded here…”

“Please, I can make that piece of shit from scratch in my sleep.” Rick said. “And Morty’s fine. That niece of yours will keep his small brain entertained for hours.” He turned to Stan and asked, “You got any booze, we had a rough crash here and I need a drink.”

“I got a secret stash in my room,” Stan muttered. “I don’t like drinking with the kids here, but I guess you can have a shot of whisky to relax. Want some soda?”

“Sure, why not. There’s a bit in my flask to last.”

And the old men walked away for the ‘Employees Only’ part of the house, leaving Ford to grit his teeth in annoyance and then bite his lip in discomfort. This could only end one way and he was not looking forward to it.

To be continued...

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

It’s The Avengers (03x06)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Season 3 Episode 06: Mrs Silvertongue

Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline   Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.

Warnings: one of those tropes. one of those hnnghh tropes

Word Count: I was supposed to post this four hours ago but my colleague called me to play and that dumb dork was drunk while I was laughing throughout. So, here it is. Also...I’m hot. No, I am actually hot. The temperatures are going up! I need some cool breeze.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

"Everybody stay together. Do not make eye contact with strangers. Do not buy stuff you don't know about and definitely do not leave your eatables unattended."

The camera switched from Loki's barely composed face to your stuffed one strapping the backpack securely behind you before looking at Loki and the sandwich sitting on the seat between the two of you.

"Wha," you stated, still not swallowing, "iss wight hea. Sop bein a wowwie wat."

The camera in Javi's hand caught the bustle on the 'station' where you all were supposed to board shuttles to be on your way to another galaxy before travelling to Knowhere. The area was thousands of square feet wide made in a dome shape outside a planet currently under the supervision of the soldiers form Andromeda. After the War, the security had been tightened around galaxy travel to monitor any remains of the Radicals who had supported Thanos and were currently the most wanted criminals in the universe. Screens everywhere showed the flights and timings along with various commercials for products all around the galaxy. Some you were able to read thank to the translation glasses the Hardy boys provided you, others were a jumbled mess of strokes and illegible patterns. Creatures from all around the wonderful black expanse moved about in this station while soldiers who looked like they had been overly tanned scanned them and their belongings before sending them on their designated shuttles. It all worked as an airport. Except for one thing.

"Well, at least there's no random selection here that is not based on some 'racist profiling'," you quoted, getting a nod of agreement from Javi.

"Oh, there is racist profiling here," Loki interrupted your blissful thoughts, "but ever since the war, it has just been bent towards the ones who helped Thanos."

"Huh, even space isn't free from such mindsets then."

An announcement on the screens caught Loki's attention. "That's our shuttle. Come on. Lulu, up."

Lulu jumped and settled on Loki's shoulder and the camera caught a full grin on your lips.

You: *smirk* And he was the one who didn't want me to take Lulu from the desert *tilt your head* you know what... he is exactly like a choco lava cake. Sturdy looking outside but soft, mushy and melting aaaaall on the inside *giggles*

 Loki: she was talking about me, wasn't she? *narrows eyes at the camera* What was she saying? Javi, tell me. Javi, we're good friends. Come on, Javi. You're stuck with me. Javi. Javi. Hey. I'm the only one who can get you out of this hell hole. Javi. *looks at Javi's figure walking away* Javi. Javi! Come on! Javi!!

The creature scanning your line seemed to come out of some American writer's stereotypical description of a green alien except for the part where her huge beady black eyes had slits, just like a cat. She was stoic as a feline too, going about her job without any emotion on her face. And when it came your turn to stand underneath the scanner, her ignorance of your greetings did not help your nerves.

"You are a...terran," she stated more than she asked.

"Yes, ma'am." You blinked like a dumb animal and tried to remember to smile.

"Your business in the galaxy?" Her slow and positively raspy voice interrogated.

"Just travelling with my-" you blinked again while trying to innocently shrug with a hint of shy, looking like a questionable human-"boys. You know, sight seeing."

Those silver slits stared at you for solid five seconds, not even breathing apparently, before stamping a token and handing it to you and diverting her attention to the next passenger- Loki.

You and your bags moved to the other side of the scanner, waiting for Loki and Lulu while Javier made it next to you from the scanner next to yours. The creature looked at the information the scan brought on her screen in a language neither you nor the camera understood. But one thing that was catching the camera's focus was this text blinking in red next to Loki's picture.

"You are Loki," she stated to the God, scrutinising him from head to toe in those black scruffed jeans and t-shirt underneath a deep maroon long jacket.

"Hm," you forced out a light chuckle, "guess Tony and Clint are not the only ones who are weirded out by seeing him in anything other than his New York attire."

"Of Asgard," Loki added with an 'at your pleasure’ smirk.

"A Frost Giant," the lady acknowledged in her raspy voice. "Have you travelled to the Andromeda before?"

"I have, yes. But not in the recent years."

"State your purpose for the visit to the galaxy."

"I am-" he paused to throw a quick look in your direction before going back to his interrogator- "going there on some unfinished business with an old friend."

The lady, stoic like a rock, looked at Loki for the next ten seconds before pressing a button underneath her screen. Somewhere behind you, you and the camera could hear synchronised footsteps. The camera turned to catch seven aliens- five bulky, one bulkier than all the others, and the last one a leaner and less appeasing version of the lady- walk past you towards Loki.

Lulu, who could feel the change in the atmosphere around him, felt himself shifting on Loki's shoulders while his fur stood up like a frightened cat. But never once did that little fluffy boy leave Loki's side.

"Loki, of Asgard," the leaner one announced, "you are to come with us. Please carry your belongings with you. Please refrain from using any means to resist for you will be charged against the law of the peace fleet. Please put your hands forward so we may put diluters on your wri-I see you already have some version of them on your wrist. Very well. Please follow me."

The camera caught you, mouth gaping open and eyes out in refrained horror, looking at Loki while trying to keep your breaths as calm as possible.

"Oh fuck," your breaths forced out, "what the fuck is happening? Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck fu-"

Loki was already moving behind the lean one, the parade of bulky Captain Gantu’s following him with their synchronised boot work. One of them looked down at the camera, sending a glare of yellow through those hollow eyes before turning back, entering what seemed like an elevator. Loki stood right in the middle, his eyes shifting from the lean alien to you for a few seconds before white doors closed and he disappeared from your view.

The camera now came back to your face, which was still staring in that direction, the colour from your skin a little faded, the pupils contracted to their limit, the breaths paused since God knows when. "Oh fuck we're gonna die."

.

There was a rhythmic pulse beating four times a second while the camera kept shifting- and vibrating a little- between two windows. Out of one window one could see those bulky dudes in attention standing at one door each, not shifting even a muscle while other aliens went about their business. The other window showed the lean guy standing with another alien that was bulkier in the middle. The lean one turned to the window at the rigorous tapping coming from the window.

"Calm down, Lulu," a soothing but tired voice came from out of the frame, making the little one turn towards Loki's figure sitting in what looked like a white chair beside an oval-shaped white table floating in the air, "they're not going to let us out. Not yet at least."

Lulu, who had paused to listen to the God suddenly found himself whimpering till its outright wails were catching everyone's attention outside the room.

"No, n-Lulu stop crying, Lu-" Loki got up from the chair and came to stand beside Lulu in two strides, picking the furry lump in both his hands while keeping his head away from those deafening wails. Slowly but surely, Loki brought the hysterical little lump to his chest, mostly to suppress the noise and wave uncomfortably at the judgmental eyes in his direction. At one point the fly camera-that had sneaked in with events yet unknown- caught an expression on Loki's face that reflected nothing but murder in his eyes. But the very next moment he sighed and brought his hands to stroke the frightened ball of fluff. "Hey, hey, hey," he shushed him, his hands being gentle and his expressions turning soft, "it's okay. It's completely fine. You're fine," he hummed, almost singing it while bouncing the little sobbing and hiccuping floof in his arms, "I'm in here too, aren't I? Right? You are not alone. You are not alone. We'll get out of here together as soon as we know who is behind all this mess, okay?"

The little furball sniffed and wiped his snot off on Loki's shirt. "You didn't have to do that," Loki pointed out with no real purpose to the already made mess. But Lulu was quiet now, possibly looking up at Loki and chirping something only the God understood and chuckled. "Yes-" he stroked Lulu's head- "she'll be fine without us. Once she stops panicking. Yes, yes, you're with me."

Lulu, chirped again, protruding his paw to carefully touch Loki's cheek and chirp some more. Whatever the little one had said, brought the God to a standstill, that tiny smile on his face frozen while his eyes seemed to have travelled somewhere far. "I wish that was true a few years in the past. How different some things would have been."

Lulu tilted his head in confusion while Loki seemed to be visiting certain memories that the camera on Lulu and others around them was not aware of. And all emotion in both these loveable creatures seemed to have been broken by a recognisable voice- so low and seemingly far away- somewhere in their vicinity. Lulu was the first to turn towards the window to the view of the lean guy, jumping at the sight.

And then Loki saw you standing right next to the alien who had arrested him, all colour from his face draining as he watched you flail your hands in some untethered rage right into the expressionless alien standing in front of you out of courtesy.

"Oh...oh no." Loki's face was completely opposite to whatever it is you were going through. Lulu was shifting his gaze between him and you, bouncing in Loki's arms with unadulterated joy. Javier was standing between the two of you with his camera- filming even in the midst of all the chaos.

Before he could compose himself, you were already walking towards him, the alien opening the door for you, letting you inside the room and closing it.

"Hey," your delighted and relieved face greeted Loki, "you guys okay?"

Lulu squirmed and chirped with joy, jumping straight into your arms to bonk his head with your face and rub himself all over you. Loki, on the other hand, stood there like he was seeing a ghost. "What are you doing here? You are not supposed to be here. You didn't do anything wrong."

"Oh neither did you, Loki," you were quick to point out.

Loki: *inhales* *put his palms together and brings them close to his face* *bends his hands towards the camera* Woman!

"You don't know what I or have not done so don't act like you know what you're doing, kitten," Loki pointed out rather harshly, forcing an offended gasp out of you, "you were supposed to be out there."

Your delight slowly seemed to be turning to an ember of rage. "Oh, I am sorry that tried to use my working brain to help you out in any way I can, your highness! If you wanted to spend more time in this weird jail you should have let me know when these big butts carried you off!"

"This does not concern you so stop," Loki did not let you finish. "Undo whatever it is you did. This is far more dangerous than you can stomach so off you go."

You scoffed and mocked him. "This is fir mir dingiris- well bad news it can't be undone because they think I'm your ride or die."

Loki was basically slapping himself on his face when trying to rub off the tension- along with his skin. "Wh-ha-hyy would they think that?! WHY?"

A whistle blew from behind the camera and Loki instantly caught it; along with catching your arms going across your chest while you tried to look anywhere but in the God's direction.

"Y/N," that soft but threatening growl was enough to crumble all the restraint you came undone faster than a horny teenage boy. "It's no big deal I just told them I'm your wife."

The camera timed the perfect zoom on that face that lost a couple of hundred years as it heard that sentence.

 On Earth

"It's no big deal I just told them I'm your wife."

A shrill 'Oh my Gaaaahd' left Scott's lungs while the soda bottle in his hand crushed and burst everywhere. A shriller wail left Peter as he threw his hands at his face in the utter disbelief and fell on the ground. A cushion blew up in the tight grasp of Bucky's hands, making feathers fly everywhere, and Sam stood up with one fist on his mouth and the other pointing at the screen, howling like a mad fan. Pepper watched with insane delight in her eyes while slapping the thighs next to hers that belonged to her husband who sat there looking at the screen with narrowed eyes as if he had seen something wrong- like a glitch maybe. Natasha was the only one maintaining her composure while sipping on her margarita and looking at the camera form under her lashes.

Scott & Peter: *do a whole routine with their hands in unison* I sayyyy Y/N and Loki sittin' in a tree!!! Fake M-A-R-R-I-A-G-E!!!!!

 Tony: *confused* Wife?

 Vision: I don't get why Scott and Peter are so excited. *looks to his right* Why are they...

*camera pans out to show Wanda barely containing her excitement in her pressed lips*

Wanda: beeeecause they might have a ship, Vis. *looks at the camera and smile a wide toothy smile*

Vision: *tilts his head* but there's no way they could ride a ship in this facility Wanda

 Tony: *still confused but in a different position* Wife??

 Steve: *blinks* I guess....that's a good...strategy? *frowns* I mean...sure. *hears a sniff from outside the frame*

*camera pans out to show stone-faced Bucky sitting next to him*

Bucky: *barely hides his breaking voice* Goo-*clears his throat*-good infiltration strategy.

Steve: *stares worriedly at him* You okay buddy?

Bucky: *crumbles* no~

 Tony: *lying flat on the sofa, face down* *raises his head* His wife??!!!

 Sam: *hollering* wife wife baby!! *turns to his side and nudges the person sitting next to him* come on get in on the fun!

Clint: *nearly saves his coffee pot from spilling all over him with Sam's nudge*

Sam: *keeps nudging and dancing in his seat* somebody's having some space fun!

Clint: *moves the pot into his other hand to drink it with hollow eyes looking at nothing, in particular,* somebody's gonna die of some fun

Sam: *all smiles for the camera* huh?

Clint: nothin' *looks at the camera zooming in on his stone face*

Tony: *wheeling out from under his car with tools in his hands* HIS WIFE??!!

Rhodey: *guffaws while clapping his hands over his head till he's wheezing* oh-oh my-oh Jesus! Poor Tony. *wipes the tears from his face* I told him karma is a bitch but I never thought it would come to bite him right in his ass!!! *continues to chortle*

Tony: *stops making his green smoothie to topple the jar into the sink and walk out of the screen screaming in groans* HIS WIFE?!! OH MY GOD!!!

 Space PD HQ

You haven't felt Loki breathing since you broke the news to him. He has just been standing there staring at you with faint confusion and curiosity, still as a statue.

"Loki-" you poke him- "Loki, say something! Don't just stand there like that! You're scaring me!"

"Y/N," he finally breathed out, his brows still creased, "do you know how many people I've killed?"

You shrugged. "I don't know? A couple? Do you know how many teenage girls I deceived when I was in high school?"

"How many?" He asks with keen interest before snapping himself back to reality. "Wait, what? No. Why would I need to know that?"

You shook your head casually while leaning on the floating table. "I don't know, I thought we were sharing our darkest numbers; like couples need to know these details. Right?"

"By the Norns," Loki groaned into his palms, rubbing his face hard. "Listen-"

The door hissed open and Mr Lean Alien walked in.

"Well, we haven't been introduced properly. My name is Tsuloche."

"Hi, Tsuloche. I'm Y/N," introduced yourself, closing the distance between you and Loki, your arms rubbing on each other.

"Listen, Tsulcohe, there has been a misunderstanding here. She-"

"Yeah, there's been a misunderstanding," your stressed and scoffed, crossing your arms across your chest, "like taking my husband prisoner for no reason at all?"

Tsuloche brought his nimble green- almost as thin and long as twigs- hands together. "Mrs....uhh...Miss Y/N, Loki has killed a lot of people in the past."

You groaned. "Now you sound just like my husband. I know he's killed a lot. And he's clearly suffering for it right now." You turned your head towards Loki, bringing your fingers to softly pinch his cheeks. "My poor baby."

Loki jerked away from your fingers slightly, whispering, "stop."

You didn't. Your fingers still reaching for those cheeks. "Stop it!"

You smiled as he grabbed your hand with his and held it in a good grip. "Okay, now you're just doing it to embarrass me in front of him."

Tsuloche tilted his head at this scene, blinking those translucent eyelids before his cat-like pupils dilated a little. "Do you know he supported Thanos' cause?"

You tried to yank your hand from his grip but Loki wasn't having it. So you turned back to Tsuloche. "Huh? Yeah, I know. He was undercover there to know his plans and stop him when the time came. What else you got?"

Tsuloche stood there blankly, shifting his gaze between you and the God for a good minute, his scarcely dilated pupils going back. "Why would you marry a criminal?! That too the one who tried to destroy your home?!"

You hummed and tried once again to slip your hands from Loki's death grip but failed- though that did not stir the seriousness away from your face at the alien's question. "Well, for the home invasion part, you'll understand if you ever had spiders, lizards and flies in your home."

Now, this confused the alien further but Loki forced out a laugh at your statement.

"I'm not sure I follow."

"Well, Tsuloche. The first time you see a spider or a lizard in your home, you scream and cry and want that monstrosity to be gone from your place. It's worse if they bring their friends over. At one point you form a plan of attack to get those sons of bitches out of your home because they don't pay the rent, do they? But it is later on that you realise that these spiders or lizards were actually what were keeping the flies away. You know, the flies that were contaminating your food and making you sick. The flies that were bringing disease from all corners. The only thing standing between you and death by flies was this one stubborn spider-" you squished Loki's face with your free hand, making him jerk and grab that other hand too- "who nearly killed all my people but didn't."

"As for the getting married part, Tsuloche, if you're married, you know very well the crimes you forgive when you love someone. I mean, have you seen this guy do anything bad since the War? No. That's 'cause he's been enjoying some downtime with me and my fam, getting to know me, marrying me, and now taking me and our little cuddly alien cat on a honeymoon! Ain't that right Lulu?!"

Lulu chirped.

By now those judgmental pupils were a full-blown dilated dorks looking at the two of you.

"Oh and that guy recording us outside is...is...our...videographer. Yes! That's who he is. There's a whole trend on Earth to put your life on the internet and stuff like that. So, he's here to...record everything we do on our honeymoon. Not everything, of course," you concluded a little loud with pressed lips and a nod as you realised the mistake.

"Nice save, dear," Loki chirped with a smirk.

"Shut up."

Those blown out pupils came back to disclose any emotions that last bit might have given away. Tsuloche cleared his throat. "Well, as...good as it all sounds, I am afraid I cannot let the Silvertongue go."

"Silvertongue?" you mentioned under your breath and looked at Loki's lips in amusement.

Loki caught your eyes darting to his tongue wetting his lips, sighing in a faint sense of defeat. "You know it's not silver. Why are you even looking at me like that?"

The camera caught your brow arch with some suggestions best kept to yourself. "Oh. I know," you sang, still looking at those lips, "I was wondering about what all would be...different if it were."

Wanda: *sits wide-eyed and flushed red* Uhh *clears throat* *presses her lips to suppress her smile* *talks softly with a shakey voice* I don't know what *puts one leg over another* *adjusts herself in the seat* what she meant by cat-that! What she meant by that. *turns red*

Loki just furrowed his brows at you uncomfortably before turning back to Tsuloche.

"Well, I'm not going anywhere without my husband, so..." You sat down on the lone chair in the room.

Tsuloche was already composing his wrinkled raisin face. "Very well then. I hope you find this interrogation room to your liking, Miss Y/N because he is not walking out of here for another seventy-two hours-"

The door hissed open to let in one of his subordinates who handed the alien a tiny cuboid-shaped device. One look at the tiny thing and Tsuloche looked back up with his sharp pupils dilating to the max. "Mrs and Mr Loki, you are free to go. The inconvenience is regretted and the department will provide you safe passage on the next shuttle to your destination."

A little surprised by the sudden turn of events neither of you wanted to let go of this opportunity. "And by our destination you mean anywhere we want?" You are eager to know; something that makes Loki's eyes turn to you and carry an expression barely recognisable on that perfect pale face. Some would even say it was a butt-hurt disappointment. 

"Destination means the place you were previously travelling to. Your bags have been transported. Now all you need to do is get on it and enjoy the rest of your honeymoon."

Heaving a sigh of relief, Loki let go of your hands but still smacked away the one coming for his cheek again, making you chuckle. "I have very limited knowledge on the feline species but it almost looks like you're happy to set us free, Tsuloche." Loki quirked his brow in agreement with your statement.

"What?!" Tsuloche was a little taken aback, continuously blinking his translucent eyelids to make those starry eyes contract to their predator like gaze. But he couldn't. "Highly mistaken you are, madam. I am definitely not happy to let you resume your honeymoon with your beloved. I am enraged that you will be going away with a criminal and your monstrous little pet somewhere to spend time together. I am-I am definitely offended by the idea of this hardened criminal getting a second chance at life with someone so beautiful as you!"

You squeaked. "Aw! He thinks I'm beautiful!" Loki rolled his eyes and looked at the camera.

Tsuloche: *highly conscious* you want me to say something in that camera? Is this for their honeymoon album? *Eyes dilate* oooh! *looks at the lens* uhh ahem, do not do anything unlawful you two. Space is a dangerous place. And...and *eyes dilate to their maximum capacity* take care. *Exhales* *wipes something off his face* oh dear! That was really hard.

 Space Shuttle

The entire shuttle was empty save for your little group. The seats were comfortable and the legroom quite spacious. Securing Lulu in a seat by the window, you sat down next to him, directly facing Loki. Javier sat next to him, recording the view out of the window.

“So, you sent in one of Javi’s camera flies, found a set of rules that said spouses are allowed to meet their other half and just...went with it?”

“I also used the uninet- the universal network- to find out about Tsuloche’s species and intimidated him with a little show of power. So, yeah. I read the rules of Space and this is the second time I saved your ass, Silvertongue," you state matter-of-factly, stretching your legs as much as possible.

"Don't get so cocky, kitten," Loki purred, fastening his seatbelt, "we still have a lot of places to go. You are lucky some people like your cute face."

Your brows went up and head tilted before Loki realised what he had done. "Aw! You think I'm cute!"

Lulu's camera caught Javier signing something to the two of you. "Keep having such petty arguments and aliens will actually believe you're married," you spoke his words out loud.

Both you and Loki looked at each other. "Married? To him?"

"Married? To her?"

The unison was too much on point. But the cackle eroding into the space out of the two of you made it better.

"You're funny," Loki chortled in Javi's direction.

"In your dreams, weirdo," you added. "Can you imagine? Mr and Mrs Silvertongue?" The laughs came out again while it was Javi's turn to look at Lulu's camera.

 Avengers Facility

"No, Nat, I don't think he'll go that way. He doesn't belong there, like, mentally speaking," Scott gesticulated with a lot of hand movements.

"I think Scott's right," Wanda added.

"No, come on. He knows it's his birthright. So that would be the most obvious thing to go for. And we know he wasn't really seen as much once all hell broke loose back home, right?" Nat put forward her point of view while sitting on the sofa in her jammies.

"But if it wasn't that way then?" Pietro asked with keen interest. Nat thought about it for a moment and shrugged.

"Then it definitely would have been the latter. I mean, you were practically raised as one. He was raised as one, right?" Bucky asked Steve. The latter nodded.

"But still," Steve contributed, " there was something wrong there, right? Which is why all of those incidents happened. Are we sure he would still go for it even if he wasn't just another kid?"

Now the lounge went silent, thinking all of it through while the camera showed a very disinterested Clint sitting on the dining table to clean his guns, bows and arrows. The expression in his eyes felt like he wanted to be anywhere but here.

The camera swerved to another person standing by the lounge entrance, looking at the whole scene with utmost disorientation. "What's going on?"

Everyone looked up at Tony standing at the door.

"Oh, we were discussing what surname would Loki choose if he and Y/N got married?" Nat casually answered.

"Like, would he go for Loki Odinson or Loki Laufeyson," Peter explained.

The camera zoomed in on Tony's face, which was trying to do it's best to understand what was going on before giving up and just tilting his head and narrowing his eyes at everybody.

"They have been at it for two hours," a defeated voice comes from Clint's corner, who was looking at some distant void while cleaning his weapons.

"This...is a hypothetical situation, right?" Tony made sure. He had to make sure.

It took a second before everyone shrugged, nodded and hummed in agreement. None- except one camera- caught Scott and Peter crossed his fingers behind their back.

"Oh my God, I just got it!" Scott exclaimed out of nowhere with a new realisation on his face. "He doesn't have to think about the surname. It's Y/N who'll be making the choice."

And just like that, the seriousness in the air changed into a shared epiphany and everyone agreed without any vote against that thought.

"You guys are having a lot of fun with this," Tony sang sarcastically with judgement filled in his tone.

"Yeah, what about it?" Pepper called out from her comfy armchair while eating cheeseburgers and sipping soda, looking at Tony for an answer.

Tony, on the other hand, shifted his weight between his legs. "No. Nothing. You have fun, sweetie. Kisses! Muah! Muah! Muah! Please don't kill me in my sleep tonight."

[legumelupin]

Cake Week!

here it is! the first chapter of this story that i love so much but is ruining my life! and here it is on ao3! it’s over 11k so please enjoy

WEEK 1 — CAKE

“It’s the moment every dessert lover, every pastry lover, really any kind of bake lover has been waiting for. The tent is staked and there are 12 new bright-eyed and bushy-tailed amateur bakers ready to battle it out. These bakers are some of the finest in the United Kingdom and were hand-selected out of thousands of applicants. 

“They practiced for months and months to perfect new and old skills to take on a new set of challenges. Original signatures, grueling technicals, and spectacular showstoppers that are all made to push the baker's creativity and determination to the edge. Who will come out victorious? And who will collapse under a soggy bottom? 

“This season, the bakers will be judged by none other than the lovely baking queen of Scotland, Minerva McGonagall. She’s hard to impress and incredibly blunt but boy does she make spectacular ginger biscuits. Her co-judge is the man who looks great for his age and who’s palate ranges from lemon sherbert to cockroach cookies. That’s right, it’s the ever-serene Albus Dumbledore. But the bakers had better watch out, our dear Dumbly isn’t afraid to shatter hopes and dreams. And as always, this season will be hosted by myself, Horace “Sluggy” Slughorn, and the large and in charge, Rubeus Hagrid.

“For their first week, our brand new bakers will have to overcome the woes of cake week. That means avoiding dry sponges, merengues that aren’t whipped properly, and batter that is over’werked’ as our dear Minerva would say.

“Welcome to Season 7 of the Great British Bake Off!”

~

Remus tied the apron around his waist, his hands shaking uncontrollably as he was still processing where exactly he was. He was in The Tent! The people in charge of the Great British Bake Off chose his application as one of the ones to be a part of the next season. Him! Remus John Lupin! What the fuck? What were they thinking? What was he thinking? He had let his mother convince him into applying, citing his bread and his knack for precision as qualities that could help him. He just never thought he would be here, ever. But he was! 

He took a look around, noting all the cameras and feeling his stomach start to twist itself into a knot a bit. Oh gods, what in the world was he thinking? He’d be on TV and chances are he’d make a fool of himself for everyone to see! He thought of the day the camera crew had shown up to his family’s small cottage just outside of Cardiff. He had been maybe even more nervous then than he was now considering how intimate the whole ordeal was. They just followed him around for a few hours and had him hang in the kitchen with his mother while his father sat at the counter reading the paper. They followed him to his job at a bookshop just inside of town and he talked about his dream to go to university to study literature. If he didn’t think too hard about it, being in The Tent didn’t seem so bad anymore. 

And then one of the Minerva McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore walked in. Gods, he wished he packed a joint in his bag for after. Or even his pack of cigs. He was going to need it afterward judging by how hard his legs were shaking. He looked to the workstation across from him and found a woman with long, red hair and he remembered her vaguely from the little mingling session the producers of the show hosted for contestants the day before. Remus did his best to socialize but he mostly kept to himself, thinking about the book that was waiting for him on his train ride home. But looking at her now, she was hard not to remember with hair like that and green eyes that pierce him even from the distance he’s at. 

She caught his eye and offered him a kind smile that he returned easily, feeling a bit better. He could see the worry lines etched on the side of her mouth. Honestly, Remus should have been paying more attention to the competition if he wanted to win but he’d been so inside his head that he didn’t even remember any of their names let alone what they looked like. All he remembered from the night before was the piercing blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore and the raucous laughter of Rubeus Hagrid. He was so shell-shocked that all he could do was tell himself not to panic and have a drink with a few of the other contestants that he didn’t remember the names of. 

But now, here he was, smiling at the girl with flaming red hair, waiting for the camera crew to give the cue for them to start. They’d gotten the opening shots with all the new bakers lined up outside the tent and all of them walking into the tent for the first time. Remus was almost positive that his gaze was downcast the entire time. It was almost like he was asking to leave on the first episode but in reality, he did really want to win. He was terrified and an anxious disaster. But he was a terrified and anxious disaster with a passion to win.

“Psst, hey!” a voice whispered behind him and Remus raised an eyebrow, turning his head to find the most gorgeous man his bisexual eyes have ever seen. Remus suppresses a groan. Why did Gorgeous-Man have to get his attention before the first task? As if it wasn’t going to be hard enough before, all Remus would be able to think about now were those stormy grey eyes and long, very soft-looking black hair. He would definitely overbake his sponge. 

~

Sirius Black was very nervous. He was incredibly proud of himself for making it onto the show but he was also still in disbelief. Even when he was standing at his workstation for their first bake of cake week, he didn’t believe he was actually going to be on his favorite TV show. The night before hadn’t done anything to soothe his nerves or let him know that this was actually real but he did meet a really wonderful bloke by the name of James Potter who was also a contestant on the show. They hit off on their first interaction and hit the pub right after the little event had ended. Sirius felt he’d made a friend forever in the guy.

“Hey man, this is crazy right?” a brown-skinned guy with unruly black hair and kind, hazel eyes said, gesturing to the large white tent that was just down the hill from the little area of the grounds the newest contestants were all gathered in. He looked to be around Sirius’s age. “Never thought I’d be here but I guess they liked my application enough even though I made a complete fool of myself,” the guy snorted and Sirius raised an eyebrow. 

“I suppose they just wanted a village fool and they thought you’d do the best job,” Sirius snarked and the guy looked affronted but to the point of mocking him.

“You say that as if it isn’t a high honor, young sir!” the man proclaimed and Sirius cracked a grin. 

“I have to say, kind fellow, I’m going to put up a hell of a fight to be crowned the title of fool before you,” Sirius jested back and the guy laughed heartily. 

“I’m James Potter,” he extended his hand and Sirius took it in his own. 

“Sirius,” the pale male answered and James quirked an eyebrow but didn’t let go of his hand. 

“Course I’m serious, why would I lie about my name?” James asked and Sirius snorted.

“No, I’m Sirius,” he replied and James just leveled him with a small glare. 

“About what, mate? You haven’t even said anything,” James shot back and Sirius rolled his eyes. 

“No, you oaf. My fucking name is Sirius,” he laughed and James’s face fell for a second before it broke out into a large grin. 

“That’s right funny, Sirius. You can make a lot of jokes with that,” James smiled and Sirius laughed. 

“Just did, mate,” Sirius remarked and James didn’t stop grinning. 

“Wanna grab a pint after this?” James asked and Sirius knew. He just knew. This guy was gonna be his best friend after this night. 

“Sounds like a plan to me. I’d get out of here right now if it weren’t the set of fucking Bake Off,” Sirius murmured and James grinned at him again. 

“Is someone nervous?”

“As if you aren’t. Or I suppose you’re too daft to feel nervous.”

“Oi! Now that’s just rude!”

“You didn’t even understand when I introduced myself!”

“Your name is fucking Sirius! Pardon me for not knowing very many people named after celestial bodies!”

“Well, you’re pardoned! Happy?”

“Incredibly, good sir!”

They hit the pub together after the party as promised and got properly shitfaced and Sirius was sure that he would want to remember that night forever. Bake Off was already getting his mind off his shit life but this bloke, this James Potter, seemed to be a forever friend. 

James was sat at the station on Sirius’s right and they kept glancing at each other. Both would be lying if they said they weren’t nursing a bit of a hangover which is not ideal considering it was their first day on the set of a baking TV show that would be broadcasted all over England. James pointed to the woman who sat in front of him and made a face at Sirius that indicated that he was absolutely smitten with this woman. He’d never even talked to her. Sirius rolled his eyes and shook his head. James glared at him and stuck out his tongue, and then feigned absolute hurt when Sirius didn’t change the look on his face.

Sirius could only roll his eyes again but with a smile this time. He turned his attention to the guy sitting in front of him who was wearing a sweater that was definitely not appropriate for this fucking disgusting weather. Sirius knew it wasn’t his place to say shit to the guy but holy fucking hell it was as hot as Satan’s balls out! So, like a typical Black (and he was well aware of his cousin’s presence in the tent which was kind of crazy but he tried not to think too hard about it), he said something. 

“Psst, hey!” he whispered loudly and thankfully, the guy heard him and turned around briefly. Sirius’s gay panic went haywire at that moment. He forgot about the sweater all at once and was stuck between a sea of honey brown and a forest of glorious summer green and freckled cheeks with a couple of faint scars running across a beautiful nose. He had fucking freckles and heterochromia. Oh gods, he was toast. Pun intended. 

“Yeah?” the guy asked, his voice sounded strained. How had Sirius not seen him last night? Or this morning? Was he seriously so far up James’s ass and happy to have a friend that he didn’t even notice this hot string bean amongst the ten other contestants? Yes, yes he was. But that wasn’t an excuse!

“Oh, um, I was just… Mate, how the hell are you wearing that thing right now?” Sirius asked incredulously and the man’s face fell to be quickly unimpressed. 

“I've been cold on the inside since I’ve been ten,” he deadpanned and Sirius raised an eyebrow at him. “Basically I’m depressed,” he continued after before making to turn back front. 

“Wait, you’re not even gonna tell me your name Mr. I- Wear -a -Sweater -in -the -Dead -of -Summer?” Sirius quipped and the guy actually managed a smile. Sirius groaned internally. No one should be allowed to look that hot!! And he was just fucking smiling!! At this rate, Sirius couldn’t even bring himself to think about fucking cake (unless it was this guy’s cake, if you know what he’s saying. Wink wink).

“Remus Lupin. Care to tell me yours? Mr. I-Have-No-Manners-and-Can’t-Recognized-a-Depressed-Bastard?” the guy snarked back, not losing the amused look on his beautiful face.

Sirius barked out a laugh causing the other contestants to look over to them and Sirius feared of being shushed so he quickly said, “Sirius Black.”

Remus nodded at him, a small smile still piquing on his lips before turning back around. And finally, the set fucking called for action. Now, what was the cake he’d been practicing for weeks?

~

Marlene McKinnon was an absolute ball of nerves and it was obvious to everyone around them, too. They couldn’t sit still. One minute they were bouncing their leg up and down, another they were wringing their hands, another their fingers were twisting around their long chestnut brown ponytail, and another minute they were braiding that ponytail. But before they knew it, Sluggy and Hagrid were welcoming all of them to Cake Week and giving the prompt, which they already knew, before the legendary send-off:

“On your marks,” said Hagrid.

“Get set!” Sluggy cheered.

“BAKE!” they both rang out together and it was like Marlene blacked out. 

Their adrenaline took over and they raced around her work station, grabbing sugar, eggs, and flour for their orange zest angel food cake. Their workstation was one of the first two from the tent’s entrance which they were honestly thankful for because that meant the judging and hosting teams came to them first. And they wanted as little distractions as possible. 

“Marlene, what kind of angel food cake are you making for us today?” Sluggy asked, peering around her workstation. They looked up and saw the calculating gaze of Albus Dumbledore on their batter in the mixer and the stern eyes of Minerva McGonagall boring into their own. Their knees wobbled and they fought to keep themself upright. Minerva was an inspiration for them and now the woman was going to be judging their bakes. 

“Oh, um.. I’m going to be making an orange zest angel food cake with chocolate glaze and fresh whipped cream,” they said while trying to keep their voice from shaking. 

“Sounds quite lovely,” Albus said serenely. 

“Yes, I expect a strong orange flavor in your cake,” Minerva insisted curtly but with a small peak of a smile. 

“Of course! I hope it comes through,” Marlene smiled and they knew that this was where her little introduction would be placed in post-production of the show. The production crew followed them around Cambridge and talked about how they worked as a physician's assistant for a nephrologist and lived with their two cats. 

 They were quite happy with their life at the moment, they kept up with their family who didn’t live that far away and their job was fulfilling. But they were a hopeless romantic and were on the lookout for a lovely lady to woo or for one to woo them. 

They glanced around their station once the judges and hosts moved on and caught the eye of a dark-skinned girl named Dorcas Meadowes that they met yesterday along with a red-head named Lily Evans and another woman with mousy brown hair named Alice. Dorcas gave them a small smile before turning back to her own bake and Marlene felt their cheeks heat up a bit and really hoped no cameras were pointed at them. 

The bakers had two hours for the first bake of the season and Marlene thought everything was going well. Their egg whites whipped up well, they zested many oranges, everything seemed to be going alright. They couldn’t say the same for the man across from them. He had long blond hair and a permanent sneer on his face that said he thought he was better than everyone. Marlene remembered him from the night before and rolled their eyes then just like they were rolling them now. 

He fucked up his egg whites it seemed like and was obviously disgruntled as the camera crew moved to his station for what kind of angel cake he was making. Marlene marked him as a weak link in their head but they didn’t dwell on it too long as their egg whites weren’t yet stiff peaks. They kept beating them. 

Marlene was a whirlwind of movements for the next hour and a half until Hagrid announced they all had a half-hour left and they felt absolutely overwhelmed despite actually being in a pretty good place in their bake. Their sponge was cooling and it looked well-baked but not over baked, their chocolate glaze was almost ready and all they had left was their whipped cream and to slice some oranges as a garnish. 

“Looks like he broke your focus,” the woman behind Marlene’s station smirked but not unkindly. 

“Oh, uh yeah,” Marlene answered with a breathy laugh. 

“Sorry if that was weird, you’re just in front of me and you’ve been in the zone the entire time. It’s admirable, I hope it’s all going well for you,” the woman smiled sweetly and Marlene smiled back at her. They noticed all around the tent, bakers were conserving and bantering with each other and they hadn’t said a word since the very beginning. 

“No, it’s not weird and thank you. I hope it’s going well for you too, this is all so scary,” Marlene answered and the woman smiled at them more. She didn’t seem too much older but she was definitely on the older side of the contestants. Almost everyone else looked to be Marlene’s age. 

“Yeah but think about it, if you didn’t deserve to be here, you wouldn’t be,” she reminded Marlene and the person nodded. “I’m Andromeda, by the way. It’s nice to meet you and hopefully, there’ll be a friendly face around here over the next few weeks, assuming I make it through,” she said softly and Marlene nodded again.

“I’m Marlene, it’s good to meet you too,” they answered before turning back to their bake, making sure their chocolate glaze wasn’t burning or anything. 

There was a minute left before they could even realize and their cake was glazed, their whipped cream was cold and sitting like a cloud atop the cake, and they were just finishing slicing their oranges. They chanced a glance up and around and saw the blond man across from them struggling. His sponge looked overdone and his lemon glazed looked too runny. They could only hope that the orange was strong enough in their cake to compete with their chocolate glaze and cut through it. 

“Bakers, time is up! Please step away from your bakes and move your Angel Food cakes to the end of your table!” Sluggy called out to the group and almost simultaneously, everyone out down what they were doing and stepped back. Marlene was satisfied with how their cake looked, they really only wanted it to taste good now. They took a look around at everyone else’s.

~

Sirius had dried batter on his face and his usually pristine hair was rather disheveled but his angel food cake looked delicious, at least in his eyes. It was a vanilla sponge with a sweet cranberry sauce running down the sides with strawberries on top. He looked forward at Mr. Remus Lupin’s cake and groaned. His looked fucking delicious and it looked like he made a chocolate angel cake sponge? The fucking drama of this guy! He looked over at James who looked very proud of his key lime pie inspired back and he had to admit it was impressive. 

“We got this in the bag,” the man whispered-shouted across the way, his arms crossed proudly over his chest. The girl in front of him who he was gaping at two hours ago turned and gave him a slightly disgusted look and he noticed and grinned at her. “Like what you see?”

“Aha, you wish,” she sneered and Sirius decided she wasn’t his favorite person. What was her deal? Sure James was a little cocky but so what? 

“Oh come on, Red. You don’t think my sponge looks good?” he asked with an easy grin and the girl rolled her eyes before facing forward. Judging was starting. 

~

Remus’s internal panic alarms were ablaze. He was proud of his bake for sure but it wasn’t up to his usual standard in his opinion. There was a good chance the sponge was dry on his vanilla one and his chocolate one had a very good chance of being underbaked. His pastry cream was set well enough but he was nervous all the same. All he could hope for was that it tasted better than how he imagined it did. 

He watched Albus and Minerva make the rounds with Hagrid by their side from behind him. They were tasting a greasy-haired guy’s cake and they seemed kind of meh with it like it didn’t do anything special for them and from what he could tell, it was just a normal sponge with some powdered sugar and strawberries on top.

“I’d like to see more,” Minerva said, a tone of disappointment in her voice. The guy just gritted his teeth and nodded shortly before turning to look forward. 

The judges moved onto the guy in front of the one they just judged who’d been talking to Sirius just a minute ago. He looked very proud and boastful of his bake and with good reason it seemed as the judges loved it and the guy who was judged first seethed very visibly, glaring daggers at the back of Sirius’s friend’s head. But Remus’s view was obscured when the judges crossed over to Sirius’s station. He could hear everything they were saying. 

“Right, Sirius my boy, this is vanilla angel food cake with cranberry sauce, right?” Albus asked and Sirius nodded while chewing his lip. He was fucking hot when he chewed his lip. Gods, Remus was so fucking bent for this guy and he had one conversation with him if it could’ve even been counted as a conversation. And he was a dick during the whole thing! How could he be a dick to the one attractive guy who’s talked to him in months? Remus held back a sigh as Minerva and Albus tasted Sirius’s cake. 

“Hm, that is scrummy. The cranberry is sharp and tart which is an excellent contrast to the sweetness of your sponge,” Minerva attested and Sirius’s face broke out into a smile. It was radiant and Remus never wanted him to stop. 

“Yes this is delicious, thank you,” Albus commented, giving a slow nod to Sirius. 

“Thank you,” he said softly, the smile never melting off his face. 

As Minerva and Dumbledore moved onto the person behind Sirius with Hagrid, Remus caught Sirius’s attention. “Nice one! Looks great,” he smiled and if it were possible, Sirius’s smile grew even bigger. Remus’s heart clenched because he made that happen. 

“Thanks, mate! Yours looks really good, a chocolate angel food cake is impressive,” Sirius whispered back and Remus flashed him a smile this time. 

“Thanks!” 

Remus faced forward again and waited for the judges to come to his station with a large amount of anxiety that grew with every second. He resisted the urge to bite his fingernails to shreds as he knew the cameras were still around and taking shots of people other than those who had the judges at their table. But Remus needn’t wait very long as the next person they came to was him. He sat up straighter when Hagrid addressed him. 

“Remus, what have you made fer the judges t’day?” he asked and Remus swallowed loudly. 

“Uh, it’s alternating chocolate and vanilla angel food cake with pastry cream in between the layers, topped with fresh whipped cream,” he said quickly but his voice didn’t waver thankfully. He was a mess. 

“It looks very neat and your pastry cream seems to have set very nicely. Quite ambitious for the first bake of the season, let’s just hope you pulled it off,” Minerva remarked but there was a shine in her eyes. 

“Yes, I hope I did too,” he said softly as they cut into his sponges and took a piece onto the plate set in front. 

“The vanilla sponge looks well baked,” Albus commented, tapping his fork lightly over it. “But I fear you may have misjudged the timing for your chocolate sponge, it appears a bit underdone,” he remarked and Remus nodded. He figured. “Best to try it.”

The two judges put a piece of his cake into their mouths and looked thoughtful for a moment. “These flavors are wonderful. And it’s quite a feat that you got your chocolate sponge to rise and still have such a profound flavor. The pastry cream is a nice texture too,” Minerva commented and Remus smiled at her. 

“Yes, this is very good indeed however your chocolate sponge is underbaked,” Albus continued and Remus nodded. 

“Right, sorry about that,” he murmured. 

“This is a very fine cake you have, Remus,” Albus finished and Remus tipped his head in thanks. 

“I’ll jus’ be taking a piece o’ that,” Hagrid said sneakily, taking a piece of chocolate sponge with him and Remus snickered, gesturing for him to take as much as he pleased. 

“Oi, mate, that’s amazing!” Sirius whispered from behind him and Remus turned to face him, both of them wearing dazed and happy smiles. Honestly, it went better than Remus had expected it to go for their first bake and he felt ready for the technical, though he didn’t want to be too cocky just yet. 

~ 

When the judges got around to that bloke Lucius, the one across from Marlene, they couldn’t help but roll their eyes despite the large number of nerves setting their entire body on fire. Oh gods, they were the last to be judged and from what they were hearing, the majority of the others had done really well. The bar was too high!! Too high!! Marlene wished they were high right about now but instead they had to listen to Minerva and Albus be disappointed with the blond git’s bake. At least that was something positive for them. They had heard high praises for Lily and Dorcas’ bakes and they really enjoyed Alice’s flavors. Marlene thought for a second that Andromeda was going to get a Minerva McGonagall handshake and here they were with just a plain old orange-flavored sponge and some chocolate sauce. 

They barely even registered when Hagrid addressed them due to never-ending nerves but stood up straight once they realized, watching Minerva and Albus inspect their sponge. 

“Looks to be a very good bake and the chocolate has a beautiful shine to it,” Albus remarked and Marlene smiled a bit. 

“Yeah let’s just hope the orange came through,” Minerva replied before putting her fork in her mouth. “And it does,” she added immediately after. “Beautifully, too,” she continued and Marlene’s shoulders sagged in relief. 

“That’s a very lovely sponge you have there,” Albus praised and Marlene grinned at him. 

“Thank you,” they said quietly and the group moved away. 

There was a flurry of movements but they were told to leave the tent so they could prepare for the technical and so the camera crew could get a few testimonials from the contestants. They called out a few names of who they wanted. 

“Lucius Malfoy, Severus Snape, Remus Lupin, and Alice Fortesque,” one of the crew members shouted. “Everyone else, please exit the tent. You may wonder the grounds and enjoy something from the buffet but you are due back in a half-hour for the next bake!”

Marlene hurried out of the tent and into the fresh air, feeling as though they were able to breathe for the first time that morning. Gods, if that was what it was going to be like for the next ten weeks, they didn’t know if they could make it! That was one bake and they were already knackered! They would really need to pack a joint with them for their travels back home if that’s what it was going to be like.

“Hey, Marls! Where’re you headed?” a voice that she recognized as Dorcas shouted from a few meters away. They looked up and saw the dark-skinned girl with pale-skinned Lily by her side, both with wide smiles and welcoming hand gestures. 

“Nowhere in particular!” they called back as they headed to join them on their walk. 

They talked and gossiped about the first challenge. Lily ranted about the guy behind her, James Potter, being an absolute git who was too cocky for his own good. And while she did sound truly exasperated by this man, Marlene could also tell she fancied him even if it was just a bit. Lily didn’t seem like the type to appreciate being told this though so Marlene kept a tight-lip and settled for exchanging knowing glances with Dorcas who couldn’t hold back the smirk from her face. Gods, Marlene was absolutely smitten with that look and they couldn't even admit to themself. They wouldn’t be surprised if the word hypocrite was emboldened on their tanned forehead. 

~

Sirius was a bit bummed that Remus got called for a testimonial. Not that he wanted to give one or anything but he was hoping he could drag the guy along with him and James during their break. James was great company though, he always had something to say and it was usually hysterical. It’s only been 24 hours since meeting the guy but it felt like they’d been friends since secondary school, if not before. 

“Hey, mate, you there?” James’ voice filtered into Sirius’s thoughts and he snapped his head towards the man. 

“Huh?” he managed gracefully. 

“I said that bloke sitting in front of you seemed pretty cool,” James repeated, not letting on if he noticed Sirius blatantly ignoring him for a minute. 

“Oh, Remus?” Sirius perked up causing James’s eyebrows to raise by a fraction before shrugging. 

“I suppose if that’s his name,” he jabbed and Sirius laughed a laugh that sounded to be that of a bark. James quite enjoyed it and thought it fit Sirius’s persona perfectly. 

“It is. And yeah, he’s very cool. Talked with him for a bit before we started,” Sirius insisted and James quirked a smile. 

“Wanna grab a nightcap tonight? We can invite this Remus character as well,” James offered and Sirius’s eyes shone brightly. He couldn’t help it. Remus was cute. 

“Yeah, sure! Sounds great to me, honestly anything to stay away from home for the night is good for me,” Sirius grinned. 

“Well if that’s the case, then you’ll just have to get too drunk to go home Mr. Black, causing me to insist you stay the night at my place so I can be sure you don’t sick up in your mouth and choke on it,” James grinned and Sirius grinned back. They looked like a right pair of scoundrels right then even if they had no intention of getting drunk enough to even feel their cheeks grow warm. They had the blasted show-stopper tomorrow! They couldn’t make fools of themselves just because they had a pint too many!

“Is that a challenge Mr. Potter?” Sirius poked and James laughed.

“Is that how you see it?” 

“Perhaps.”

“I think you mean mayhaps,” James corrected and Sirius snorted. 

“You’re fucking weird, Potter. That something you learned in Godric’s Hollow, some posh lingo or whatever?” Sirius taunted playfully and James scoffed. 

“You’re one to talk about bloody posh, mate. Sirius Black, named after a fucking star and grew up in rich London. I look like a right plebeian standing next to you. I might as well get down on my knees and kiss your—“

“Alright, alright, you can shut it now.”

“Eh, didn’t go too far did I?”

“Absolutely not, you prick. I’m just annoyed you refuse to acknowledge your own poshness, even if it’s more eccentric and fucking loony.”

“I’m not loony.”

“You just told me to say mayhaps.”

“As a joke!”

“Uh-huh, I’m sure.”

“You better watch your tongue, Sirius Black, I’m not afraid to tell on you to Minerva McGonagall! We’re close personal friends!” Sirius erupted into laughter and James followed suit. The break didn’t seem to last long enough. 

~ 

Remus stood back at his station rather disgruntled despite having gotten high remarks from the judges. But the attitudes of the two other guys chosen were just abysmal and Remus did not feed well off of negative energy. Thankfully, the girl Alice was an absolute sweetheart and he managed to occupy his waiting time talking with her and ignoring the two other assholes. However, when Alice went to give her shpiel on the first bake, he was left alone with Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape, neither of which displayed any kindness. 

“That old bat doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” Lucius had snarled. 

“Neither of them can appreciate true artistry,” Severus had implored and Remus rolled his eyes but his ears burned as the man continued, “Praising an underbaked chocolate sponge. How very soft. I suppose they feel bad with all those scars. Paints a very interesting picture.”

“Hmph, I have to agree. And with all the praise for that brown skin and that black girl,” Lucius had sneered. Remus could tolerate slander directed at him but he drew the line at any kind of racism. 

“Hey, you better shut the fuck up,” Remus snarled as he turned around. “To be quite honest I couldn’t give a damn about your bitterness towards the judging but don’t go blaming it on others and don’t you dare bring anyone’s race into this. They have just as much of a right as you or I do and the fact they’re better than you makes you feel inferior. Well, I got news for you mate. You are inferior. And if I ever hear you badmouthing anyone for their race, I will fucking slug you where you stand,” he bit out quietly and without wavering. “Fucking trash,” he gritted out, spitting at Lucius’s feet and glaring at Severus before turning back to ignore them.

The pair behind him continued their conversation much more quietly then and Remus failed to hear any of it but it wasn’t too much longer before Alice came back and Lucius left. She could sense his anger but didn’t ask him about, choosing instead to ask about what he did for a living. 

So there he stood, his arms tightly crossed over his chest, glaring daggers into the back of Lucius Malfoy’s head, waiting for the hosts and the judges to arrive, signaling the start of their first technical challenge. 

“Psst, Remus,”.said a voice behind him and he really thought about ignoring the guy just because he was in a foul mood. But he relented anyway because he had a feeling that Sirius wouldn’t stop calling out to him until he answered. He turned. 

“What?”

“Wanna grab a pint with me and James after we wrap up for the day?” he asked with a brilliant smile and expectant eyes. His heart melted a bit at the sight and he smiled softly. It took him a minute to register what the guy had asked him and then he felt his cheeks flush. He was asking him to hang out after? Him? Remus Lupin?

“James?” Remus asked without thinking or hesitating and Sirius pointed his thumb over to the guy at the station across the way. The man called James smiled a brilliant smile and waved enthusiastically. Remus snorted. 

“Sure,” he answered with an easy smile before turning back forward to hide his burning cheeks. He managed to catch a glimpse of Sirius’s own burning cheeks though and the thought made him warm inside. 

~

The technical was a disaster. At least it was for Sirius. He couldn’t be sure about anyone else but he was sure he fucked up his bake beyond repair. All his good graces from the signature challenge would go out the window because he would surely be crowned twelfth place and he would have to claw his way through the ashes during the showstopper just to stay in the competition past the first week. He was embarrassed and he was annoyed with himself for cracking under pressure. Surely he could’ve handled twelve miniature tres leches cakes, right? But no, not at all apparently! His whipped cream was running, his sponges well weak and didn’t hold well after being doused in milk and to top it off, he cut his finger when slicing the strawberries! No one was having a worse time than him, surely.

Except for maybe Marlene McKinnon who was almost in tears at how everything was turning out. How could it be that only an hour ago they were making perfect whipped cream and now it just wouldn’t stiffen? They were on their third attempt and there was only five minutes left in the challenge so if it didn’t work then, they would be serving naked, milky sponges and they absolutely loathed the sound of that. They beat their whipping cream and sugar harder. 

Remus Lupin felt oddly calm during the technical. His sponge came out well or so it appeared and he had no way of testing it, his milk concoction was mixed well and his whipped cream wasn’t grainy. All was well at station Remus and he was quite proud of himself although he doesn’t have the self-confidence to believe he’d place even in the top three. But he was still proud of himself. 

“Alright bakers, that’s the end of your first technical, if you could, please bring your tres leches up to the Gingham altar and place them behind your visage!” Sluggy proclaimed and everyone seemed to take a collective breath as they stepped back for the first time since starting. Thankfully, Remus had just finished setting his last strawberry atop his cakes and couldn’t help but be pleased as he brought up his platter to the front. He was seventh in the judging so he’d have to wait for Albus and Minerva to get to his bake but he didn’t seem to mind actually was a nice change of events from this morning. He began to fear that his lack of anxiety would be his downfall though and that he’d be taken by surprise and his tres leches would actually be terrible and his sponge would be cracked and dry. 

He sat in an odd mixture of fear and calm. But he was sat next to Sirius so that was nice. Sirius looked upset and Remus searched for his photo which was second from the start and frowned. They certainly weren’t the prettiest but they didn’t look awful and as long as they tasted good, he would be fine. 

“It’ll be alright, mate,” Remus whispered, trying to sound encouraging and Sirius just shrugged. Remus risked it. He took Sirius’s hand and held it. Yes, he was attracted to the man but also they were in this together. As much as Bake Off was a competition, they were still fighting the same battles and Remus would hate to see Sirius feel alone during this. Luckily, Sirius held on. 

“Right,” Minerva said, catching their attention and looking over the bakes with scrutiny. “Let’s see how they did, shall we?” she asked, gesturing to the first bake which was behind the photo of a man Remus had never talked to. 

They seemed to enjoy it enough but remarked that the cakes weren’t milky enough and Remus had to stop from blanching at the term used. Milky. Ew. Gross. But they moved onto Sirius’s and the man held Remus’s hand tighter. 

“These look a little… disordered,” Albus said serenely. “But hopefully the flavor is good,” he continued as he and Minerva put a piece in their mouths and immediately hummed in delight. 

“Quite delicious,” Minerva remarked and Albus nodded in agreement as they moved onto the next bake which was Severus fucking Snape’s. 

They didn’t like it. Good. 

Next was the red-headed woman across from Remus and they really seemed to like it, stating it almost near perfection. Next came a brown-haired woman that Sirius’s hand tensed at when they got to it, causing Remus to frown. He hadn’t seen the man interact with that woman at all. Interesting. 

After the brown-haired woman (Remus should really learn all their names), they moved onto the black woman who was stationed in front of Remus and they also really enjoyed hers, and then it was Remus. He gripped Sirius’s hand a bit tighter. 

“They all look very neat which is good, let’s just hope they taste as good,” Minerva remarked as she put a bite in her mouth, Albus following suit. They hummed in approval. 

“Quite delicious,” Albus remarked. “This one is going to be hard to judge I can see,” he continued and Remus had to school his face from beaming. But Sirius gripped his hand tighter which made Remus squeeze back. 

James was after Remus and he did well but he had thirteen inside of twelve. (Sirius thought James would say something like ‘Well I should get extra points, right? It could’ve been eleven instead of thirteen.’ Sirius would have replied, ‘I think you’re just shit at maths, mate.’) A tanned girl with chestnut brown hair was after James and like Sirius, they looked very messy but the flavor was good. 

“The cream is a bit too runny for my taste,” Albus commented and Remus sighed. This is not easy for anyone and it was only going to get harder. Minerva and Albus were picky. 

They moved onto Lucius’s which weren’t even topped with whipped cream which made Remus smirk, and then they headed onto Alice who’s were satisfactory it seemed. And they ended with another guy who appeared slightly mousy and even his picture on the altar conveyed a strong sense of panic. He did what Remus would describe as a ‘meh’ job. 

And then the judging. Remus kept waiting for his name and he held onto Sirius’s hand tightly and he couldn’t tell who was sweating more. Unsurprisingly, Lucius was last, then Severus, the mousy-looking boy, named Peter, was tenth, followed by the person with the chestnut brown hair, named Marlene, was ninth, followed by the first guy, Frank, then Alice, the woman that made Sirius tense up was named Andromeda and she was sixth. Sirius tensed up again and stayed that way when he was announced to be fifth. 

“Sirius, overall a good set of bakes, just a bit of a mess,” Albus noted and Sirius smiled with a nod. 

James was fourth and then came the top three which hadn't registered yet that Remus was in. But he quickly realized as Sirius squeezed his hand tightly and Remus held his breath. 

“In third, is this one,” Minerva said, gesturing to the bake with the photo of the redhead who’s station was across from Remus’s. “Lily, a really good bake the sponge could be just a bit wetter.”

“These two were really hard to decide between, it was a really a toss up but in second is this one,” Albus stated and Remus raised his hand. Second in the technical! What the fuck! Is this the same Remus he woke up as this morning?

“So that means Dorcas, you are first,” Minerva smiled at the woman’s who station was in front of Remus and Lily leant forward to congratulate her and so did the guy named Frank. She was shocked. 

Remus, Dorcas, Snape, and Lucius all got called for testimonials and again, Sirius was bitter. They had a few more things to film just to wrap up the day but either way, he was going to get a pint with Remus and James. But gods, what a day! He had a pretty good signature and he did well in the technical! And he made friends with the hot guy who sat in front of him! Maybe Bake Off is exactly what Sirius needed to turn his life around and to start actually living happily and not in his family’s shadow. It’s only been two days and he already feels like a different person and as long as he doesn’t muck everything up with the showstopper, he feels pretty confident he’ll make it to the next week. 

He was packing up his things and also taking out some things he would be using for biscuit week next week just as preparation when Remus finally came back over. “Hey, mate! You did bloody amazing!” Sirius said happily and Remus beamed at him. 

“Thanks, Sirius! You did really well, too!” he answered and Sirius grinned. 

“Oi, Remus! Remus Lupin!” shouted a voice from across the tent. It was the redhead Lily that James was absolutely smitten with already. 

“What?” he asked, his face neutral as she stomped over to him, an unreadable expression clouding her face. 

“You and Dorcas, are you two some kind of wizards or something?” she asked, sniffing afterward and Remus grinned at her. 

“What, jealous?” he asked, poking a bit of fun but the reddening of his cheeks was absolutely noticeable and Sirius smiled carefully to himself as he watched the exchange. 

“Jealous? Me? Absolutely not,” she scoffed. But she smiled after. “Congratulations, you and her seem really fantastic at baking.”

“Hey, you do too,” he answered softly and she smiled at him. 

“Yeah well, I was only complimenting you to make you more comfortable so you’d let your guard down,” she shrugged and Sirius watched Remus roll his eyes. 

The two of them almost seemed like him and James in the sense that they immediately hit it off. There was no bite behind their words or actions, they were just banting with each other. Sirius felt a green ugly monster want to rear its head in the back of his mind but he quickly shut the door on it. He did not know Remus and he certainly did not know if he was even into blokes. Sure they held hands during the judging of the technical but it was just a high stakes situation. It didn’t mean anything. 

“You’re Welsh, aren’t you?” she asked him and Sirius saw the honey-haired man nod out of the corner of his eye. “Could tell from the accent, eh. Well, I’m from Cokeworth, you know in the midlands. I reckon the train comes by both our stops so if you want a friendly face to sit by tomorrow, just shoot me a text. And maybe we could grab a quick cuppa in town before shooting in the morning,” she offered and Remus seemed to light up at the suggestion. It left a warm feeling spreading in his chest. 

“That’d be nice! Here, let me give you my number,” Remus answered and both of them pulled out their phones, exchanging numbers and laughed. 

“I’m gonna name you Wolf McWolf in my phone,” Lily snorted and Remus playfully glared at her. 

“Uncalled for, ginger,” Remus shot back. “Just for that, you will be Little Red to me,” he grinned deviously and she scoffed back at him. 

“Hey, there chums!” James’s booming voice interrupted and Sirius was grateful. He was growing tired of watching the two of them flirt or whatever. Yes, he was bitter. Yes, he was a petulant child sometimes. It came with the territory, he was used to getting what he wanted and he wanted Remus. Gods, he’s a mess. 

“Ugh, you,” Lily sneered but there was no real malice behind it, Sirius noted. “What is it that you want?” 

“The lads and I were going to grab a pint when we wrapped up here. I suppose you wouldn’t want to join us, Evans?” James inquired, his eyes shining brightly and when she snorted, his face fell a bit. 

“Not tonight, we have the showstopper tomorrow. It’s rather immature of you to get a drink after today, you couldn’t wait till tomorrow?” she pointed out and James shrugged. 

“We could also go tomorrow if you wanted to join then,” the brown-skinned boy offered eagerly and Lily tried to stop the smile from growing on her face. 

“Well, we’ll see four eyes. If the three of you make it through tomorrow, then I will think about grabbing a drink with you lot,” she snorted and James was back to full-on grinning. 

“Oh I think she’s challenging us, mate,” Sirius finally remarked, glancing over at his new friend who nodded solemnly. 

“It would appear so, perhaps tonight we should practice one more time at my place,” James offered and Sirius couldn’t tell if he was serious or joking. 

“Alright, everyone! That’s a wrap! See you all bright and early tomorrow! 8 am sharp!” Sluggy called and all of the contestants broke apart and finished getting everything ready for tomorrow. And then he headed out with his new best friend and his new crush. Bake Off was getting interesting.

~

Remus woke up the next morning with a fond smile already on his lips despite the ungodly hour of the morning he was awake at. The night before had been really fun for him and they hadn’t gotten drunk at all really, just enough to feel a slight buzz but with the promise that no matter what happened today, they would go out again after the showstopper and get properly smashed. Remus was looking forward to it. 

He changed quickly and headed downstairs, kissing his mum on the cheek as he entered the kitchen. “Toast for my boy,” she said sweetly and Remus gave her a quick smile before stuffing a piece in his mouth. 

“Nervous, fab?” (Nervous, son?) his dad asked from his usual seat at the table, the morning paper open in front of him. 

“Ddim mewn gwirionedd, yn ddideimlad yn bennaf,” (Not really, mostly just numb.) Remus answered easily, being completely truthful. His nerves felt fried from yesterday and he knew he practiced as much as possible the weeks following up to the competition. He wouldn’t say he was ready and he also wouldn’t say it would turn out well or he was super confident. But he’d made as much peace as he possibly could with the weekend. Whatever happened would happen and he wouldn’t be able to change. (That’s not to say he wouldn’t be a mess during the actual competition, he figured it was kind of calm before the storm.)

He finished off his toast, grabbed his bag and rushed to the door so he could hurry to the train station. He couldn’t afford to be late. 

“Let us know if you’ll be home late,” his mom called and he called back an acknowledgment. 

“Hey Little Red, hopping on the train right now, second cart from the front,” Remus sent the message as the train pulled up to the station. He had only arrived a mere 30 seconds before. 

Lily texted back immediately. “Sounds good, Wolfie. See u in a few.” Remus smiled and settled into a seat, taking out his headphones and shuffling his guilty pleasure playlist that’s filled with Britney Spears and Lady Gaga. 

Lily joined him at the Cokeworth station and he quickly hid away his phone with the incriminating playlist and struck up a conversation. “So, you’re from Wales,” Lily stated and Remus raised an eyebrow. 

“So I am,” Remus agreed.

“Speak Welsh?” she asked, light in her eyes and Remus snorted. 

“Siarad Saesneg?” (Speak English?) he shot back and Lily grinned. 

“Wicked,” she gasped. “What’s it like? Wales, I mean. I’ve never been despite it being just across the way,” she asked and Remus shrugged. 

“Green, small, Welsh. I live just outside of Cardiff and the city’s rather nice. If I’m being honest I do love it, I just wish I could get out for a little,” he sighed. 

“Like, uni or something? I mean I get it though, Cokeworth is small and everyone knows everyone. It’d be nice to get away but I can’t exactly afford uni,” Lily revealed and Remus looked at her for a second before nodding. 

“Me too,” he answered. “I’ve always wanted to go, I love learning, I love studying, I love reading but, uh, we can’t afford it either,” he finished with a mumble and Lily gave him a piercing look. He felt uncomfortable. He knew his scars were noticeable and he knew people would always have questions but it wasn’t their business. 

“I say go for it. We both should, money be damned,” Lily retorted finally and Remus raised an eyebrow. “You’re what? 21? I am too, it’s not too late, it’s never to late,” she continued and Remus smiled. 

“How’d you guess my age?” he asked and she snorted. 

“Didn’t you know? I’m a Seer,” she joked and Remus laughed. “By the way, did you know that Severus lives just over the tracks from me in Spinner’s End?” she added on and Remus tried not to let his mood turn sour. He didn’t want to talk about that dickhead.

“Oh how interesting,” he mused carefully and Lily’s face turned hard. 

“The guy is a prick. We used to be friends, you know. When we tykes, inseparable and all that. But he changed and I tried hard to forgive him and help him but he’s just a slimy git,” she huffed and Remus glanced over at her. 

“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely and she shrugged. 

“Past is past, it’s just crazy to see him here after a couple of years of not seeing him and knowing he’s still the same twat he’s always been,” she sneered and Remus nodded.

“I had… a… friend like that,” Remus bit out, trying to keep himself under control as he thought about Fenrir fucking Greyback. 

“I’m sorry, too then,” Lily said softly and Remus smiled at her. 

“Eh, you know, past is past. A guy tries to rape, permanently disables you as a result, and then you beat the shit out of him. Casual, right?” he offered with a flimsy smile and Lily laughed. He was glad she did. 

“You’re a right riot, mate,” she said. “At least you got him back and gave him what’s coming. Fuck that guy,” she continued and Remus scrunched his nose. 

“Yeah well, now we’re on fucking Bake Off and Snape may be here too but there’s no way he’s winning. Not with you on the show too,” he offered and Lily rolled her eyes. 

“Yeah I think you’re more of the threat to be completely honest,” she answered and Remus smiled a toothy grin. 

“We’ll both give him a run of it,” he compromised and she smiled back at him. 

“Deal.” 

Remus was sure he and Lily would take the train to the tent together every morning they could. He was sure he’d just found a friend forever considering they’d just had a heart-to-heart at 7 in the morning on the way to a baking competition. Plus she shared part of her chocolate scone with him and he’d always been a sucker for chocolate.

~

Marlene got to the Bake Off grounds earlier than most, the only other person there was Frank Longbottom and they had a very brief but friendly exchange of hellos. Marlene just wanted to get there early to clear their head a bit and focus on the task at hand. They’d practiced their cake sculpture for weeks and they knew exactly what they needed to do in order for it to succeed. As long as there weren’t any major catastrophes, they’d be fine. 

They were sat on a tree stomp only a small distance away from the tent when Dorcas Meadowed showed up out of nowhere and plopped down right next to them. “Morning,” Dorcas drawled out with too much pep in her step for 7:41 in the morning. 

“Hullo,” Marlene answered with a very small smile. “Lovely day innit?” they asked and Dorcas scrunched her nose. 

“Yeah, it is. But it got even better with you in it,” she answered and Marlene immediately blushed. Was this flirting or was she like this with everyone. 

“I could say the same for you,” they answered cheekily. “But maybe if you brought me a coffee next time, it would be even better.”

Dorcas smiled. “Oh so, I’m not enough? Need coffee too? Alright, fine. How’d you take it? Black? Cream? Sugar?”

“Black,” Marlene answered back with a playful grin. “One sugar.”

“Oh that sounds gods awful,” Dorcas gagged and Marlene giggled. 

“Hey, to each their own,” they snarked and Dorcas rolled her eyes. 

“You nervous for today?” she asked and Marlene shrugged. 

“Yeah, I mean I think it’d be weird if I weren’t,” they replied and Dorcas nodded.

“Me too, but also. Not really? I don’t know I guess I just feel confident,” she continued on and they nodded along. 

“Yeah, I think that’s a good way to describe it,” Marlene concluded, smiling at Dorcas who smiled back. 

“Wanna get a drink after today?” Dorcas asked and Marlene snorted but nodded at the same time. 

“Yeah, I really do,” they answered. “If you’re interested I packed a joint in my bag, we could share if you want,” they continued and Dorcas lit up at the suggestion. 

“Sneaky little thing, aren’t you?” she laughed before saying, “Yeah, that’d be nice. Need something to take the edge off with this competition.”

“Precisely my thoughts,” Marlene smiled and Dorcas smiled right back. Gods, they wanted to kiss her so badly but it’s been less than two days of knowing each other and that was way too forward. But still, the want was there.

~

James and Sirius showed up to the tent together as Sirius really did spend the night at James’s place. James was oddly kind and perceptive to Sirius’s weird moods when his home life was brought up and he had made a genuine offer for him to stay the night. 

“That is if you don’t mind the lunacy of Godric’s Hollow,” James had snorted and Sirius grinned.

“No, I very much welcome lunacy,” he had replied and that was that. Sirius met Fleamont and Euphemia Potter and spent the night in the bedroom next to James. They hadn’t practiced the showstopper challenge like James had suggested earlier in the day but even if they wanted to, they would’ve been able to, considering the size of the Potter’s kitchen. It would send Wahlburga Black on a fucking rampage.  

They took their stations easily and Sirius admired Remus from behind as the guy took a spot at the station in front of him, just like the day before. “Still on for tonight?” Sirius asked quickly and Remus turned around to smile and nod. 

Sirius took a glance over to find James trying to chat up Lily again and he held back an eye roll. The guy was an absolute disaster but he seemed to thrive on being that way which made Sirius appreciate him even more. He, too, was an absolute disaster. 

They settled in quickly after that and the cameras started rolling as Minerva, Albus, Sluggy, and Hagrid all walked in. 

“Welcome to your very first showstopper!” Sluggy called out and Sirius leaned forward on his station, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear that fell loose from his bun. “Albus and Minerva would very much like you to make a sculpture of your favorite world monument out of cake. It can be the Eiffel Tower, the Statue of Liberty, the Great Wall of China, anything you want but it must be made entirely out of cake and your landmark must be decorated to the highest degree,” he explained and everyone stared at him.

“Yeh have three and a half hours! So on yer marks!” Hagrid boomed. 

“Get set!” Sluggy chimed.

“Bake!” the two hosts called together and Sirius rushed to start his bake. 

Sirius ran through the process of making his batters very quickly, double-checking that his oven was preheating. He was briefly aware at some point that the judges were making their rounds and they were standing in front of Remus who was explaining his sculpture. He caught words like ‘Northern Wales’ and ‘Devil’s Bridge Fall’ but he was too focused on pouring his batter evenly to be able to entirely hear the explanation. 

Just as he was ensuring the pans of batter were even and ready to go in the oven, he was interrupted. “Sirius! How are you today?” Sluggy asked cheerfully and the man smiled at the two judges and the host. 

“Hello Minerva, Albus, Sluggy. I’m well today, a bit nervous, but okay,” he answered and they smiled back at him. He bent down to put his sponge batter into the oven. He needed them in as soon as possible. 

“What are you preparing for the judges today? Where are you taking us?” Sluggy asked and Sirius held back an eye roll.

“Calais, France. I’ll be sculpting the Calais Lighttower out of raspberry and vanilla elderflower sponge with chocolate buttercream holding it together and fresh-made fondant covering the outside,” he explained and they nodded, obviously wanting more about why he chose the Lighttower. “My family, they have strong roots in France and I used to go there at least twice a year with them. I always loved Calais and the Lighttower is so beautiful, I hope I pay it homage well,” he continued and they seemed satisfied.

“That sounds lovely and you seem to have a lot to do so we’ll let you be,” Albus conferred and Sirius nodded his thanks before running to start his buttercream icing. 

Before he knew it, there were five minutes left and Sirius was honestly not very pressed for time. He’d had some banter with the bloke behind him, Peter, as well as Remus which kept the mood light and calm (despite Peter’s obvious nerves and lack of time management; he seemed to be a good artist though). He didn’t have any trouble constructing the tower thankfully and the hardest part of covering it in fondant went better than it did when he’d practiced. All that was left was to imprint the brickwork of the tower with a toothpick and paint on some cracks with black dyed buttercream. 

“Bakers, your time is up! Please step away from your bakes!” Sluggy called from the front and Sirius took a deep breath, taking in his full creation and feeling rather proud of it. It looked like a Lighttower and it was standing upright. He just hoped it tastes good. Sirius looked past his own bake and saw Remus’s and was astonished. It was amazing, it looked like he’d painted all the colors of the waterfall and greenery onto the buttercream. And there was a bridge made out of chocolate work that was spectacular. Unless it tasted like horse shit, Sirius was positive that Remus would be Star Baker. The guy was bloody brilliant. 

“That looks amazing, Rem,” Sirius gushed and he saw him blush while muttering a quiet thank you as they settled in for the judging to start. 

They started with Marlene and went up her row. Sirius watched as Andromeda displayed a beautiful Eiffel Tower and tried not to seethe as she got glowing reviews. He liked Andromeda, she was always his favorite cousin but she was still part of his family and he did not do well with family. Thankfully, neither of them had tried to make contact with each other and that’s how he really preferred it. 

James had a beautiful Taj Mahal but apparently, his flavors were a little lacking and Severus’s looked pretty terrible but apparently tasted great. It was a shoddy Big Ben and Sirius thought him to be a prick. He’d never had a conversation with the guy but he just seemed like a fucking douchenozzle. 

They went down Sirius’s row and that bloke Lucius who’d been mucking everything up had a lackluster showstopper and Sirius couldn’t even make out a church building let alone the Norte Dame, Alice’s was average it seemed to be, Dorcas’ received rave reviews and Remus’s received glowing remarks about design (as it should’ve). They liked the taste of it and Remus was absolutely blushing on his walk back. It was a great look on him. 

“Sirius, would you please bring up your monument,” Sluggy encouraged and he stood for his moment of truth. Honestly, if anyone besides Lucius was booted this weekend, Sirius would be shocked but needless to say, he didn’t feel too particularly nervous about judging. He didn’t know if that was good or bad.

“Well it certainly looks fantastic,” Albus remarked. “Very tall.”

“Yes, the fondant looks well made and it’s homemade?” Minerva asked and Sirius nodded. 

“Yes, it is.”

They sliced through it and the whole thing remained standing, thankfully. They inspected his sponge thoroughly. 

“Both looked to be well baked and the buttercream is nice and smooth,” Minerva inspected. The raspberry sponge is a brilliant pink and the vanilla elderflower sponge looks quite airy. Let’s just hope we actually get the elderflower flavor along with the vanilla,” she continued and Sirius watched as they put a piece in their mouths. 

Albus hummed. “That raspberry is quite lovely with the chocolate buttercream, sharpness and sweetness both come through really well,” he said simply. 

“Yes, I quite agree and it’s a beautiful texture, a wonderful bake on this one. Now for elderflower and vanilla,” Minvera remarked, taking a bite onto her fork, Albus following her lead. 

After a second she sighed, “Pity. The elderflower doesn’t come through at all really and the vanilla flavor is very overpowering.” Sirius nodded. 

“It’s a bit dry too,” Albus added and he nodded again. 

“Thank you,” he murmured, waking forward to receive his bake and head back to his station. 

Peter was last and he did fine but not good and that was that. They had a quick break while the judges deliberated, all of them gave small testimonials and then they convened back in the tent for the final judging of the week. All of this was a whirlwind for Sirius, he was dead on his feet but he was still ready to go out for the night with Remus and James.

“This week, I have the pleasure of announcing Star Baker. This baker seems to have an eye for chocolate and a hand for design. Remus, you are this week’s Star Baker,” Sluggy announced and Sirius leaned over the person named Marlene and patted his thigh, congratulating him as he sat there absolutely awestruck. Lily patted his head in congratulations and Sirius sat back in his seat. 

“Now I ‘ave the very, very, very sad job of telling yeh who’s leavin’ us this week. I tell yeh, I don’ wanna see any of yeh go and I barely even know yeh!” Hagrid exclaimed, almost crying it seemed like. “This week, the one who’ll be leavin’ us is…” Everyone held their breath but Sirius felt as though it was more for show rather than actual nerves. It could only be one person. “… Lucius.”

Lucius stood up and gave a curt nod and sneered a little but everyone still stood and gave hugs for the week as was tradition on the show. Albus and Minerva went around and congratulated everyone, gave advice to those who seemed to need it, praises to those who deserved it, all while Remus was bombarded with hugs and Lucius was not approached at all very much.

~

It took too long for the camera crew to call cut on the day in Remus’s opinion but he did cry when he called his mom to tell her he got Star Baker. He honestly couldn’t believe it, he really thought Dorcas deserved it more than him and told her so. She told him to shut up and be more confident in his abilities. 

But now, he was heading into the nearby town with James and Sirius to grab a quick drink and maybe get drunk. He was going to get drunk. For sure. Especially with Sirius and James, they seemed to be the types to get absolutely hammered when possible. Lily had in fact tagged along like she said she would and she brought Marlene, Dorcas, and Alice with her. 

Remus got progressively more drunk and closer to Sirius throughout the night. Alice left rather early, Marlene and Dorcas spent the entire time talking with each other and Remus almost asked why they hadn’t started making out yet. (Honestly, he might’ve said it later in the night but he was a bit too drunk to fully remember.) James and Lily were talking almost the entire time and she had a hard time pretending to be annoyed by him, even when he really was annoying. 

Sirius and Remus spent the entire night talking and he’s pretty sure Sirius told him his whole life story and Remus was also sure he told Sirius his but he was even more sure neither of them would remember in the morning.

Near the end of the night, Remus sent his mum a text that he wasn’t coming home because he was staying the night at one of the other contestant’s houses with a few other people. Lily made sure Marlene and Dorcas got home safe, promising that all three of them would text in the giant group chat they started at the bar. And then he settled in bed with Sirius and James, all three of them muttering drunken nonsense. 

“Guys, I have work tomorrow,” Remus murmured, his cheek pressed against Sirius’s arm. 

“You can’t go Moony, you’re Star Baker,” Sirius slurred and Remus laughed a very drunk laugh that was all deep and stomach-ish. 

“Moony?” he asked.

“Awhooo! Wolf Wolf,” Sirius murmured back. “Moony.”

“Doggy,” James drawled and Sirius pushed him a bit. “Sirius star, Canis Major,” he explained weakly. 

“Not Doggy,” Sirius huffed. 

“Toebeans,” Remus said flatly. James snorted loudly. 

“Absolutely not,” Sirius growled. 

“Padfoot,” James stated easily and Sirius huffed as Remus cheered. 

“Padfoot!”

“Wha bout me?” James slurred. 

“‘Ou got big ears and you get tha-.. tha-.. you know…. ahh-face like that… thing,” Sirius said in an extremely unhelpful manner. 

“Oh, I know like the uh… animal.. that..” Remus added trailing off and James let out a noise of impatience.

“What?” he whined, drawing it out as his new friends were being extremely unhelpful. “Moony, Padfoot,” he cried and both other men laughed but Sirius hiccuped loudly causing Remus and James to laugh again. 

“Hm, Prongs,” Sirius said, snuffling further into the pillow of James’s bed, perfectly content between his two friends. 

“Hm yeah,” Remus agreed. “I have work tomorrow,” he said again and James reached over and pushed on his arm. 

“Shu up, Star Baker,” he grumbled. “Tell them no. We have bacon here and you live in fucking Welsh,” James murmured, pressing his face into his pillow. 

“Wales,” Remus corrected. “Bachgen ceirw mud,” (Dumb deer boy.) he muttered. James said something absolutely unintelligible 

“Hmm quiet, sleepy time,” Sirius yawned and neither of the other two boys said anything as they both thoroughly agreed. It was indeed time for bed. 

And Remus did not end up going to work the next day, instead, he spent the day extremely hungover with his two newest and best friends: Padfoot and Prongs. He loved Bake Off before, but now he absolutely adored it. 

[et-lesailes]

hatefucking w colin like yes please

-> -> -> "Okay, okay, I'm coming! Calm down!" you yell in annoyance as you approach the door holding a fluffy blanket wrapped around your shoulders, the doorbell ringing wildly. You open it to none other than your older sister's ex-boyfriend, Colin Shea.

Well, kind of ex. They never really dated, per se, but he had led her on to believe they were exclusive, that they were going to be serious- until she came to his apartment only to find him wrapped up in the sheets with some skinny blonde. However, the two had somehow managed to become friends again afterwards-- still, you know you'd never be able to like the man. As far as you're concerned, he screwed your sister over.

"What the hell do you want, Colin?" you ask with a roll of your eyes, wrapping the blanket around your frame tighter. "My sister's not home and I have a date in my bed with the newest season of Rick and Morty."

"Mm? Cool, let's make it a threesome." Colin smirks, walking right past you and towards your room. You blink, immediately closing the door and turning around to follow him. "Excuse you? You're not invited on account of I hate you." You speak bluntly, quickly standing in front of your door before he can go inside. "And I'm not a fan of you either, sweetheart, but you're cute and you have good taste in TV so let's go." Before you know it, he's picking you right up, going inside your room with you and tossing you on the bed. "Colin!! What the fuck!"

"Shh, shh. Don't ruin it." He plops down onto your bed and pulls the covers over himself, looking towards your television screen before looking to you expectantly. "Uh, hello? You gonna press play?"

You take a deep breath. "God, you're so annoying." You press play anyways, scooting as far away from him as you can. He suddenly moves closer, laying on his side and propping himself on one elbow as he faces you. "You're pretty fuckin' annoying too you know, but I don't complain."

"How am I annoying?" you scoff, hating that you're even feeding into his bullshit. He's trying to rile you up on purpose, and it's working. "Because you're so damn judgmental all the time, you're always so angry and snappy with me, you never know how to have fun, you-"

"Oh, shut the fuck up, Colin, I'm only like this with you because you're so damn arrogant, obnoxious, rude-"

"Who, me?! Your own sister could move on and forget about it, why can't you, huh? Just let loose and stop holding a goddamn grudge for once in your life!"

"I-- what?! How would you even know-"

"Because I fucking do, I can just tell from your insufferable persona-"

"Insufferable?! What the fuck is wrong with you?! You really just invite yourself in my house, my room-"

He suddenly grabs your face and pulls you to him, kissing you roughly. You let out a muffled squeal against his lips in surprise. "Mmf!" He bites at your lower lip, growling, "Oh just shut the fuck up and kiss me back like I know you want to."

You hate that he's right. You move on top of him and kiss him fiercely, all the frustration and hate and emotion flooding into it. Before you know it, clothes are off and he's now on top of you, his hand at your throat and his bare chest heaving as he presses his length against you. "Fuck, I hate how fucking hot you are." He hisses, thrusting into you and letting out a low groan. You let out a moan, especially when he squeezes your neck as he pounds into you.

By the time your sister gets home about an hour and a half later, your hair is messy, your neck is covered in hickeys, your hips are bruised, and your legs are practically wobbly.

You shove him out of the room in a rush, closing the door quickly before leaning against it, sliding down and sitting on the floor as you pant from simultaneous delight and exhaustion.

[moonstruckbucky]

Something Wicked This Way Comes

Summary: Something dark has found its way to Hawkins.

Pairing: Demon!Billy Hargrove x fem!Reader

Warnings: EXPLICIT SMUT, 18+, dubcon, a teensy bit of blood play, dark!Billy. Please, for the love of god, don’t read this if you’re under 18.

Notes: Well, obviously the newest trailer/ALL OF SEASON 3 has rekindled my thirst for Billy and so of course, I had to get back to writing him. This is my first time writing anything like this. I want to branch out, go dark, all that fun shit. This is going to be a dark!Billy fic, as in, it probably won’t be a fun time for everyone, so read at your own risk. This is 2k words of pure filth. Enjoy, kiddos! x

You feel it as vividly as the scalding water on your skin. A change in the air of Hawkins. Something heavy has settled in the formerly quiet town, something kind of like the mess Hawkins Lab created last year. And yet, it’s different. More chilling, more foreboding. Your growing paranoia glances to the ugly floral curtains in the bathroom, rustled just barely by the open window. The sound of the shower is tuned out as you watch the darkness creep up, laying a dark blanket over the town.

You finish your routine as quickly as you dare without slipping. A towel around your body, hair dripping on the carpet behind you as you scurry to your bedroom. You bypass your parents room and peek your head in; they’re sitting up in bed together, the glow of the television reflected across their faces. They seem unperturbed by the sudden shift. You exhale shakily, and it draws your mother’s gaze.

Brows furrowed, “Everything all right, sweetie?”

“Mm-mhm,” you mutter, distracted for the moment by a faint, indescribable sound. “Just wanted to-to say goodnight.”

Your mother smiles softly. “Goodnight sweetheart.”

You miss the look of concern on her face as you turn away, shut yourself up in your room. The towel drops to the floor and is replaced by a t-shirt, one of Billy’s, and a pair of cotton shorts. Eyes to the window. It’s too warm to close it but, you’re nervous by this feeling of foreboding in your gut. The window closes with a muted thud.

You kick your blankets to the end of the bed, keep the top sheet tucked up tight under your chin. Bottom lip bitten raw, a tremble in your fingers as you curl them around the sheets. A quick glance to the phone has you itching to call Billy, risk your parents’ wrath because you could use some reassurance right now that you’re not going crazy with this feeling.

But you resist. Neil hates it when you call past eight—well, he hates when you call, period, but before eight has less of a risk of Billy getting hurt. So you sink down into your pillows and bury your nose in Billy’s t-shirt, eyes closing as you distract yourself with his smell. Despite the loudness in your mind, the creeping paranoia, you fall asleep.

Billy isn’t at work the next day when you stop by in the afternoon, and the feeling hasn’t gone away. Heather gives you a snippy reply that he hasn’t shown up, and you try to keep the irritation out of your expression. Billy’s ex isn’t the most pleasant towards you.

It puts you at a loss as to where he could be if not at work. A drive by his house, the movie theater, the local diner, yields no results. Until you see his car, damaged and parked sideways, in the lot of the old steel mill. Heart in your throat, you squeal to a stop next to the Camaro.

“Billy?” you call as you get out, survey the damage of his car. The windshield is spiderwebbed, the driver’s side door dented as if something collided with it. Something heavy.

That feeling in your gut only grows as your worry does, and you call for Billy again. You do a full lap around the car before you look to the mill. It stands tall, dark, like a sentinel keeping guard. You swallow heavily but press forward. The phone in the booth outside hangs by its cord off the hook, the operator replaying her recorded message.

It’s horrifyingly chilling, the abandoned phone, but no more so than the dark dampness inside the mill. Inside, the air is cold, a bite to it that shouldn’t be found in the middle of the summer in Indiana. Yet it’s here, and it clings to your heart, grip icy as it flows out through your veins.

“Billy?” Your voice echoes in the empty space, and you’re reminded of a horror movie you watched once. You’re breaking paramount rules, but all that clouds your mind is finding Billy.

As you step foot onto the main floor, your breath expels in visible puffs, and a figure looms in your peripheral. Startling, you gasp and jump, hand to your chest before Billy’s familiar silhouette makes itself known.

“Jesus, Billy, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Your voice is breathy, afraid, and your breathing catches when Billy steps into what little light shines through the musty windows.

Something’s wrong. His gaze is vacant, posture rigid yet careless at the same time. He looks unharmed, except for a small scrape on his temple.

“Billy?” you question, fear in your voice. He’s behaving oddly, eyes glassed over as if he doesn’t see you.

Until he does, and he grins, and it’s feral.

“Hello baby.” His voice is different, deeper, and despite the chill to it, the danger, it brings goosebumps to your skin as it rolls over you.

“Billy, are you okay? I saw the car.” The overwhelming urge to step closer to him is too great to ignore, but you wish you’d resisted when Billy’s eyes come into focus.

They’re ringed in black veins that wriggle and stretch across the whites of his perfectly blue eyes. You inhale sharply, fingers curling into the hem of your shirt as you resist reaching out to him.

“Billy, what’s going on? Your eyes....”

“We’ve been waiting for you, baby,” he says, and he takes a prowling step forward. Instinct has you taking one backwards. In the faint lighting a muscle in his jaw jumps as he grits his teeth. “Why are you running from me, baby? Don’t push us away...”

He backs you into a wall, the concrete frigid against your back, and you tremble. The look in his eyes is possessed, unbridled, primal. Despite the fright you’re feeling, there’s an underlying heat just beneath it, sparking and catching low in your belly. Your face warms with shame at the realization and Billy seems to pick up on, a lascivious smirk curling his lips.

“We can smell you, baby. You want this, don’t you?” He crowds your space, denim-clad hips pinning yours to the concrete. His arms, which you now notice are streaked with black, rise to cage you in. The black rivers ripple under his skin, and you tremble as he ducks his head, runs his nose along your pulse points.

It’s hammering away, and you know he can feel it. Hell, he can probably hear it. Your breath rattles in your lungs as he presses forward, licks a stripe up the side of your neck that shouldn’t feel as good as it does given the circumstances. Yet it still turns your legs to jelly.

“We can smell your fear,” he whispers darkly, voice trailing off as he punctuates his words with a slow roll of his hips. Your responding whimper is choked, unwanted, but it has Billy smirking against the side of your neck. “You smell so enticing.”

Despite the coldness of your heart, your body is on fire when he runs one of those tainted hands up underneath your shirt. His skin is ice cold to the touch and momentarily it breaks up the fog in your brain. Your hands brace on his chest, attempt to push him away, but he stands firm like a tree, and his chuckle is laced with dark promise.

It’s both thrilling and terrifying, and you’re not sure which one is more powerful.

He tilts his head down, nose to your neck, hot tongue tracing over your racing pulse. He hums appreciatively. Hands settle on your waist, duck under the waist of your jeans, pry the button open. Yours fly to his wrists but your grip is weak; the clenching of your core as Billy’s eyes are swallowed by lustful black keeps you from prying his hands away.

You yelp as Billy’s teeth pierce the skin of your neck, face heating in shame as it sends a hot wetness between your legs. Of their own volition your hips cant forward against his, and a growl, definitely not human, rumbles in his throat. It sets your teeth on edge, sends an icy shiver down your spine, yet you yield to him when he kisses you dirty, tongue and teeth and blood. Your mouth fills with iron as Billy’s tongue laps at the wet cavern of it, still grumbling in his throat.

Without warning he hoists you up by your thighs, the cement cold and rough where your shirt rides up in the back. You wriggle in his arms, a poor attempt to get your feet back on the floor, but he’s strong. Too strong, and he knows it. He grins, dark and mean and sinister. His mouth is harsh and biting as it claims yours again, those hands diving for the button on your jeans.

“Billy,” you whimper, the blur of tears in your eyes blending him in a mishmash of watercolor. “Billy, please, don’t do this.”

It’s such a conflicting thing to say, because even as you try to fight the heat under your skin, he just brings it to the surface again. He works quickly to shuck your jeans, and then his hands are there, oh god and it’s like you’re burning from the inside out. He chuckles again when he feels how utterly wet you are, dips his fingers between your folds, and pulls them free to show you.

“Are you really sure about that, sweetheart?” There’s a deeper undertone to his voice, and the black veins under his skin seem to pulse with life.

He frees himself from his jeans, long, thick, purple-red tip swollen and leaking. It should sicken you that he’s turned on by this, but only a small, quiet part in your brain is rationalizing. The other side is feeling raw, needy, primal, and all you want is the slow drag of his cock inside you.

He sees the neediness, the lust, in your eyes and he grins again. Billy pushes your panties to the side, thrusts his hips so that his hot, hard length glides along your lips and catches on your clit. He’s velvet over hot steel, and the stretch when he fills you pulls a ragged moan from your throat.

Billy doesn’t wait. He sheathes himself to the hilt, relishing in the sharp gasp at the burn as your walls stretch and clench around him. And he moves. Brutally hard and deep, knocking you into the wall on each thrust. It isn’t gentle, or loving, or tantalizing in any way, especially when he brushes your hair back and sinks in his teeth so hard he draws blood.

The tears blurring your vision have tipped over, both in fear and in complete euphoria. He’s vicious, pounding into you so hard it punches the breath from your lungs. You’re inconsolable, hands grappling to grab something, anything, as he fucks you into oblivion. You kind of hate yourself, but at the same time, you’re far too fucked out to care at the moment.

His voice is different when he leans over you and growls, “God, you’re so pretty like this.”

It doesn’t register, not completely, and all thought flies out the window when he reaches between you to pinch your clit, hard, making you scream into the empty warehouse. It echoes, reverberation bringing goosebumps to your arms as you tighten your fists in Billy’s shirt.

There’ll be bruises tomorrow where his hip bones are slamming into your ass, where his fingernails break the skin on your outer thighs. It’s overwhelming, the assault of his fingers on your clit, the beating your cunt is taking from his cock. His thrusts shove keening whines from your throat on the upstroke, and a particularly harsh grind of his pelvis on your clit has you coming apart against him. Voice hoarse and choked as you cry out your release.

Billy’s not far behind, and once he’s emptied inside you with a snarl, with astonishing strength he lifts you higher, attaches his mouth to your heat to lap up your juices and his. He’s merciless, tongue delving deep inside you to curl up against that place that sends you shooting off into another orgasm. You can’t even cry out, your voice stolen from your lungs. He sucks you dry, lands a harsh bite to your inner thigh as you sag against the wall.

You’re trembling, the shame finally washing over you, as Billy all but drops you to the floor. The concrete rough on your ass, tiny pebbles digging little indents. You can’t help but sob now, the realization of what had just occurred hitting you full force. Billy fixes himself, tucks his softening cock back in his jeans.

He tilts his head, peers down at you as those black veins move again. An impact tremor shakes the building, something moves in the shadows beyond Billy.

“I wish it hadn’t come to this, sweetheart,” he says, that deep overlay in his voice again, “but it’s what he wants.”

A frigidness comes over you when the shadows move, one massive, muscled limb stepping into the dim lighting in the warehouse. Billy backs up a few steps, giving you a full look at the monster as it edges closer. You can’t even scream, rendered stock-still by your fright as the monster growls, shows off rows and rows of jagged teeth. It has no eyes with which to see you, but see you, it does.

It ducks down, eye-level with you, and just as your scream is clawing up your throat, everything goes dark.

[luckyfirerabbit]

Jaune Doe: Pt 2

Pyrrha is always up early. Almost every morning she's up and about before the sun with the intent of going for a jog around the block. She was part of the boxing club in high school and college, so this sort of exercise was all but second nature by now. She still goes to the local gym three to four times a week, keeping just shy of competition sharp, mostly for the relief it gives from the daily grind of her job.

She gets back home with enough to time to shower and change, and to get started on breakfast before Diana wakes up. She knows when that happens because the cat comes scrambling into the kitchen as if it's a race, one the cat always wins. It jumps onto the island, all black with a white face, and glares at Pyrrha until she reminds it that its bowl is on the floor.

"Morning, mommy." comes the little girls yawn.

"Morning, baby." Pyrrha smiles and looks down, seeing the incredible mess of jet black curls. "Ready to eat?"

"Mm-hmm."

"You want oatmeal, or do you want what mommy's having?"

"Oatmeal, please."

Pyrrha nods; so polite for five years old. "You want to watch cartoons while we eat?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. Go ahead and get settled in, I'll bring it to you when it's ready."

The two of them will eat quietly, Diana engrossed in the television and Pyrrha in the copy of the case file she had brought home. She takes short breaks from the papers, because there's a lot, and because she wants to make sure Diana knows she's paying attention.

"You want to go to the park later?" She asks during a commercial.

"Okay." Diana replies, sounding a little more awake. She looks up at her mother, her eyes just like Pyrrha's. "Are you going to bring work with you?"

"No, baby, I promise."

"Okay." the little girl nods. "That's why daddy says I can't come and see you, because you work so much."

Pyrrha's expression abruptly sours, then she shrugs. "That's not true, honey."

"Then why can't I come visit that much anymore?"

"I don't know." she reaches out and strokes her daughter's cheek with the back of her hand. "I've asked your dad several times, but he still hasn't given me a straight answer. I think you being with me upsets him for some reason."

"Is it because you hit him?"

Her brow furrows. "It might be, but he won't say so, so there isn't much I can do to help him with that."

"But you only hit him because he hit you first." she says matter of factly.

"That's right." she wanted to smile, feeling a spark of triumph, but that wouldn't be right. "Because we're allowed to fight back, even if it's someone we loved."

Diana goes quiet after that, getting reabsorbed into her cartoons, and Pyrrha does the same.

There are some photos in the file, most of which she ignores because she just isn't awake enough to stomach those. Instead she keeps going back to the headshot, the wallet sized picture of a drowsy, bruised twenty something with messy blond hair and dim blue eyes. She doesn't so much see him as she feels his appearance; it makes her feel vulnerable, weary...in some empathic way she feels lost. Clearly he had been through hell, and not just that night, but for some time.

Jaune Doe.

The variation of the monicker sits awkwardly in her mind for a moment, until she reads further on that it's the man's first name; it's the only name he remembers.

Possible trauma related amnesia.

Understandable, she decides as she starts skimming the list of injuries the primary exam had found. Broken ribs, concussion, multiple lacerations and abrasions. She reads intentional scarification at the bottom of the page, turning it without a thought that a photograph might follow, and immediately jerking away and turning back.

"You okay, mommy?"

"I'm fine, baby."

Poor thing.

The blood work wasn't in the file, and all she can do is shake her head. They typically don't take more than a day, so this man must have had a pharmacy inventory in his veins for it to take this long.

There are other pictures, some that she can tolerate that she studies rather closely. They fit in with the official police report, the suspicion that Jaune Doe was an addict; multiple injection scars had been found and cataloged, most of them obvious, which made her suspect the same thing as the police. But there were more in less obvious places, places even the usual junkie didn't use and were realistically impossible to reach by yourself. For her, a seasoned lawyer, that was enough to establish reasonable doubt in the initial theory.

What happened to you? She has a theory or two, but she doesn't like either of them.

When she's had all she can take she sets the file aside, sliding them into her open briefcase on the floor at her feet, knowing there will be more to it come Monday and leaving it until then.

(--)

Pyrrha will drop Diana off at school and then head straight to the hospital from there. She doesn't mind getting in early, especially if it helps sate her gnawing curiosity of what will be waiting on her desk when she gets there. This case has been haunting the edges of her mind all weekend.

Sure enough the manilla folder is there in the middle of everything, waiting for her, and she'll scoop it up after dropping her briefcase in her chair. She leaves the office for the lounge, having been unable to wait long enough to grab her morning tea. Somehow she navigates the barely busy halls, expertly sidestepping people and equipment with her nose deep in the newest reports -the full bloodwork and police testimony, including statements from the staff during Jaune Doe's intake. It's almost the perfect stroll until she bumps into a wall of body in the lounge doorway.

Pyrrha lifts her eyes, blinking through a reflex apology, looking directly into the buttons of a pressed white shirt and security badge. Lifting her chin lets her see the tusks and freckles and curly red hair of Sahv Starborough.

"Good morning, Miss Nikos." the officer grins, seemingly unfazed by the obstacle the much smaller woman was presenting.

"I'm sorry," she apologizes again, "good morning. I didn't mean to, I was just,"

"It's okay." Sahv insists. "Got the new patient's file?"

"Yeah, thought I'd get a jump start on it." she smirks and steps aside, expecting her to go by, only to be presented with a mirrored gesture from her. Pyrrha advances with the gentle insistence of Sahv's big hand. "Is he doing any better?"

"Maybe, haven't started my rounds yet." The faunus half sits on the nearest table, arms crossed. "He had a tough weekend, though. Some of the nurses were worried we'd lose him."

"Goodness." There's that painful empathy again.

"You seen his blood sheet yet?"

"Not yet, those are hard for me to read, anyway." Pyrrha shakes her head with a breathy chuckle, fumbling briefly with the tea bag and dropping it twice.

"Oh, well, I was hoping you could tell me something. Still, whatever he had in him was making him seize Saturday morning, they stopped eventually -thank gods- but he's had round the clock observation since."

"Any idea what could do that?"

Sahv shrugs. "Saw it a few times when I was a paramedic...rohypnol overdose usually." Pyrrha pauses, half turning with a quirk to her brow. "Why does that sound familiar?"

"Ruffies is the street name."

"Oh. So...but some of those injuries...that's not an overnight thing. There's evidence of long term abuse, at least as far as I can tell."

"I don't know, really." her broad shoulders jump in resignation. "I do know they think he's a druggie but..."

"You too?"

"Yeah. I mean...I've seen bad trips before -real bad- but I've never seen one like that. He was so scared, Miss Nikos. And it wasn't over things that weren't there, like the usual, he was afraid of us. He was convinced we were going to hurt him."

Pyrrha's heart clutches hard behind her ribs, her imagination going where she knows it shouldn't.

"It's all in my portion of the intake report, so I'm not going to trouble you with the specifics." Sahv shrugs sadly, likely feeling something similar.

"I'll probably ask you anyway. Cases like these...I need it to feel personal, makes me work harder."

"Whatever helps, I guess, you know what you're doing, Miss Nikos."

There's a moment of quiet between them, the only other sound is the chime of the water heater.

"He's at the top of my rounds, you want to come with me? You're his voice right now, so I figured," her nod mimics Pyrrha's, "but I have to fetch Miss Velvet first."

Pyrrha offers her leave to do what she needs to, assuring Sahv that she would be right behind her at the risk of almost pouring hot water over her hand. She scurries out of the lounge as soon as she's able, the file tucked under her arm.

The lights in Jaune Doe's room are dimmed, but still bright enough to see by. The curtains are draw across the window to keep out the sunlight, anything to help facilitate and rest he could get. And by the looks of it, he is indeed sleeping. Finally.

Pyrrha lingers in the doorway at first, content to let Velvet and Sahv do their jobs without her possibly interfering presence. After a few seconds she doesn't even see them, really, her attention is fully fixed on the man in the bed. He's coiled up, knees near his chest and arms crossed like he's cold, likely is seeing as the blankets have been kicked down to the foot of the bed. Once the seizures began the restraints had been removed for his safety, and since there didn't seem cause enough to replace them, he had been free to toss and turn through sometimes feverish unconsciousness.

Velvet immediately pulled the blankets back up, softly talking to him as if he was listening. She's sympathetic to the possibility that he feels like he's burning up -Pyrrha can see a faint shimmer of sweat on his skin from here- but assures him that he needs to keep his temperature stable if he wants to get better. Carefully, so carefully, she moves him to lie on his back to get the pressure off his ribs. When he's mostly tucked in she goes about checking the numbers on all the machines he's hooked up to.

Sahv is here for safety's sake, just in case things go horribly wrong, but she appears to have another purpose. She quietly moves to the small table beside the bed, to the little black box sitting on it as she pulls a USB cable out of her pocket.

Pyrrha cocks her head, suddenly noticing something. "Is...there's music playing?"

"Yeah." Sahv replies just above a whisper. "I was watching him the other night, once his seizures stopped and everything, and I had my scroll playing. It seemed like it let him rest a little easier, so I leave it in here for him. I just need to plug it up so it can charge a while."

Pyrrha moves inside now, feeling like she has permission to, and approaches carefully, mindful of her footsteps. She'll pause briefly when she hears the music, mostly soft but swift guitars, then closes the gap between her and Sahv as the faunus turns around.

"Is that Caravaan?"

"It's my favorite kind of music." Sahv nods, smiling. "You know I got to see Gypsy, live, just before she retired?"

Pyrrha's face lit up a little. "No, I'm so jealous."

"As long as it lets him sleep, it could be show tunes for all I care." Velvet adds softly. "But it's awful nice of you to leave it for him, Sahv."

Now Pyrrha looks down into the bed, finding Jaune Doe's face, and feels a distinct clench in her chest. He really does look young, even with all the roughness and bruising and the patches of stubble. He seemed much too young, too soft, to look so unwell.

He's hearing voices again, sounds swimming through the lingering, heavy heat in his brain. The music was better, softer, sensible, it was something he vaguely knew. But now it's broken up with something more like static. The irritation it makes him feel pulls his consciousness a little higher, lets him feel his fingers again, and a part of him tries to wake up. He comprehends flickers of light let in through his fluttering eyelids.

They part for just a moment, long enough for most of the blurred shapes in his view to drift into focus for a second or two. There's a hand on the stainless steel rail of the bed, a woman's hand, he thinks. Without a thought his eyes flit upward, unsteady and quickly blinking again. He meets and holds the attention of brilliant green eyes.

"Hello, Jaune,"

At least that's what he thinks was said, because he didn't have the time to process it before his consciousness dipped again.

"Oh?" Sahv's attention piqued. "Is he awake?"

"I...I don't think so, not really." Pyrrha tucks a strand of loose hair behind her ear, hoping there's no visible evidence of the heat she feels in her face. "His eyes were open for a second, that's all. It's a reflex, sorry."

"Well," the security guard inches her shoulders, "still, it's good to talk to them, isn't it, Velv?"

"So I've heard. Can't hurt him, I'm sure." the nurse replies, jotting down the last of her notes. "I do it all the time and haven't done any harm, as far as I know."

Pyrrha just nods, quiet for a moment, then it seems her train of thought clicks from one thing to another. "I've got to get back to the office. Thanks for letting me visit, ladies."

"Sure," Velvet smiles. "See you at lunch?"

"Probably." and the three laugh quietly and separate towards their respective obligations, leaving Jaune Doe to sleep in peace.

(--)

Blake Belladonna tucks the last of her paperwork into the drawer in her desk, locking it with the little brass key on the ring before closing her laptop. Rising from her desk she pushes the chair in, slips the strap of her messenger back over her shoulder, and strolls for her office door. Without a second thought she pulls on the nob, the door swinging open with the usual, reflexive force. Reflexive as the feline shriek she makes when she nearly walks into the person waiting much too close to the doorway on the other side.

"I'm sorry," Pyrrha gasps, shrinking at the noise Blake makes and the way her ears flatten. "I didn't mean to, I was going to knock, I swear."

"It's all right." Blake takes a few seconds to compose herself, the lift her ears back up. "What can I do for you, Pyrrha?"

"I'll be quick, I promise." Pyrrha assures her. "What can you tell me about scarification?"

For several seconds Blake just stares at her, blinking once in an exaggerated way. "You know...I had a myriad of questions in mind that you could have asked...and that was not one of them."

"I know it seems out of nowhere,"

"Nowhere isn't quite strong enough a word, but,"

"It has to do with the new Doe case."

"I see." Blake nods once. "Come on in, I have a few minutes."

Pyrrha thanks her a thousand times, or at least she tries to reach that number as she slips in behind her coworker and into the shady room.

Blake half sits against the edge of her desk, only partly settled because she hopes not to be here that long. "I haven't seen any paperwork on it yet, but I've heard a few things. So what does he have to do with your question?"

The lawyer has the file under her arm, the photograph she needed sticking out of the edge in preparation. "He's got some, clearly intentional, and I was wondering if you could tell me anything about it. Does anyone in Argus do it, what sort of significance does it have, that kind of thing."

Blake takes the picture and studies it, her ears twitching asymmetrically. "Just because I have tattoos doesn't mean I know anything about this."

"It's still body modification, right? Those things tend to run together, so I thought you might at least know someone who knows someone, you know?"

Blake blinks at her again, amused by the way her words ran together. "...Good point. Can I keep this? I can show it to the guys at the parlor, maybe they can track down the artist."

Pyrrha exhales in a relieved way, as if maybe she had expected some sort of rejection. "Thank you so much, I really appreciate it."

One sable ear cocks to the side. "Isn't this usually something the police would be doing?"

"I mean...yeah, but...I love Nora and Ren to death, but most people don't trust cops like they used to, you know? So I thought this would get better results."

"Fair enough." Blake nods.

"Plus, this poor man threw himself out of window to get away from...something, or someone, and if they're looking for him, the first thing they're going to be on the lookout for is cops canvasing the area."

"Another valid point, you've really got it all figured out, don't you, Nikos?" Blake smirks. "Diving in head first with this one."

Pyrrha returns the expression with one of her own, coupled with a sheepish chuckle. "Is that so bad?"

"Not at all, I just think you should observe a little caution. You might not like what you find."

"Good thing I don't do this for my sake, then, huh?" Pyrrha's smile widens, becomes calm and confident. "Thanks for the help, though. And tell Yang I said, hello, won't you?"

"Of course. See you tomorrow."

[darkzorua100]

In works of fiction, one of the hardest things to do isn’t so much as writing a solid story but trying to find a way to end it with a satisfying conclusion. It could be a happy, sad, or all of the above as long as it fits the story that you have building up to at this point. After all, this is the last thing your viewers are going to be seeing. The last big take away before they have to move on. What is going to be the legacy of this fiction? A ending can make or break a series after all. Just look at Yu-Gi-Oh ARC-V for example. Looking back at it, it was such a groundbreaking entry into the Yu-Gi-Oh franchise for being the first series to make all the Extra Deck Summoning Mechanics relevant to the story instead of pushing them off to the side for the newest one in Pendulum at the time. It was a huge nostalgia trip by paying homage to the past series that came before it from using their locations for the different dimensions to bringing back past characters, in a way anyway, to the forefront. There is just so much more I could say about that spin-off but to put it in a nutshell, ARC-V just did so much right at the time but of course we all can’t forget that damn ending. The way that ARC-V ended just left pretty much everyone who had watched it from the very beginning with such a sour taste in our mouths. I don’t think I need to explain why, anyone who has seen the final knows exactly what I’m talking about, but yeah, it goes to show that a finale leaves a lasting impression and is pretty much why, even to this day, a majority of people consider ARC-V to be the worst Yu-Gi-Oh series to date. 

So with all that being said, how did Yu-Gi-Oh Vrains finale do? Was it able to wrap everything up into a perfect little package with a nice bow on top? Well honestly, the package itself was a freaking mess and a half but I will say the bow on top wasn’t half bad for what it was worth. We all knew with Vrains ending way to early compared to the previous series that things were going to be getting rushed at the end but I will say that even if things were rushed, and it wasn’t the most satisfying ending they could have given us, what they did give us still left me feeling fulfilled and with Vrains being the absolute train wreck that it was, at the end of the day, I’ll call that a win. 

So let’s start off with the final part of the Playmaker vs Ai duel. These two really were just full on neck and neck that it literally came down to their aces (because yes, Decode Talker is Playmaker’s true ace monster of show) batting each other, once again like from the opening, with Yusaku only being able to pull out the win in the end because Ai wanted to make sure that he was going to be able to finish him off during his turn. If his greed didn’t get the best of him, he would have actually won. That is actually really crazy to think about. At one point, just before Playmaker summoned Accesscode Talker, I seriously thought he was going to summon a Link 8 since he had the total Link Rating on his field with his three monsters plus Darkfluid being a Link 5 but nope, he summoned basically his new combination of the six Ignises in the form of a Code Talker (which all seem to be model after an Ignis anyway). I mean how he was actually able to summon out Accesscode was kinda BS but that’s just normal BS when it comes to the final duels in a Yu-Gi-Oh final. I’m still questioning how in the actual world did Yusaku not deck himself out during this duel. Seriously just how many cards did this boy go through? Way to many from the looks of things.

Now let’s talk about Playmaker and Ai scenes. My god, those shouldn’t have hurt as much as they did. Just at the beginning when Yusaku was telling Ai about how the bonds between others were the things that created the future, not predetermined simulations, and how Ai just couldn’t understand it just hurt right off the bat because I can understand why Ai can’t think that way. Just like he told Yusaku, he is data. To find a situation to a problem is all he knows. To base something with nothing to support it makes no sense to him especially when he can’t chance it. He has seen the alternative and my god, Ai. We didn’t even see the full simulation play out (but what we did see is definitely getting censored in the dub no questions there) but I could already tell what exactly played out. If Dr. Kogami was right about anything, it is that it is inevitable for humanity not to turn against artificial intelligence out of fear that they would one day surpass humanity and try and take us over or just kill us on the spot. I think the future we saw in that simulation was just that with Yusaku trying to convince them that Ai was no danger to humanity and well....we all saw how well that ended. Honestly I lowkey wished we got to see more of that simulation just to see the moment that Ai snaps and murders anyone. Because lets face it, Yusaku literally is the only family that Ai had left at that point. If something happened to him, Ai was actually going to snap. And it wasn’t even if something terrible would happen to him. Yusaku is still human while Ai is an artificial intelligence. If nothing happened to him, Yusaku would have just aged over time and eventually pass away while Ai would always remain immortal which once again would probably lead to a snap. I honestly don’t blame Ai for picking the path that he did in the end. Even if Lightning never showed him the first simulation, I don’t think it would have been long before Ai would have put the pieces together and start doing his own simulations. Ai was just a goner since the moment he was created as a A.I. with free-will. As for his death scene, I almost did start crying because things shouldn’t have had to have ended this way. I don’t care what Yusaku said. You should have took the fusion deal, young man. It worked out pretty freaking well for Judai and Yubel. Heck, regardless how stupid it was, the Yuu Boys and the Bracelet Girls were all still their own individual people too. I don’t see how that would be any different for you two, especially considering that Ai came from you, Yusaku. I have a lot of feelings about this but I will say that the moments that really hurt for me was when Ai asked Yusaku if he was a good partner, to which Yusaku answered “yes”, and when Yusaku explained to Ai that his name meant “love”. I actually didn’t think they were going to explain the meaning of Ai’s name in the show but I’m so thankful that they did but damn, that freaking hurt! Also Aiballshipping is canon. I actually find it hilarious that Ai stole Yusaku from Ryoken at the last second XD

As for everyone else’s endings. As much as it is still the most convenient bullsh*t ever, I am happy that Jin was able to move on after freaking years of being tormented by his PTSD and by Lightning in season 2 and is now happily working with his brother at the hot dog truck just like Kusanagi always wanted. I’m glad that they are slowly starting to make up for all the time that they have lost together because of this one incident. Aoi seems to be doing okay but I won’t lie, I was bit salty that Miyu wasn’t with her when she was visiting the brothers since it seemed like the perfect opportunity for them to be together and to show that their friendship is still strong after all of these years. Like what the heck? If they are going to force this stupid storyline on us, at least commit to it damn it! It has been three months and wait? Is she still in the damn hospital? Like we literally don’t know what happened to Miyu after all of this and I just find that infuriating but what’s new there? Akira is now CEO of SOL Technologies and I’m kinda mixed on how to feel about this. I mean we all were expecting this since the very beginning but again it is one of those things like what happened to Queen? Vrains threw away the rest of the Chess Pieces long ago but Queen was still a character. I mean I like to think that Queen just up and give Akira the company out of fear of being attacked again by someone else in the future but it is still one of those things that you wished you knew what happened to her as to how Akira got this position. It seems that Vrains has continued to grow and expand during this three month time skip and I don’t know if it was intentional or not but all the connections make it look like The Arrival Cyberse @Ignister and if that truly was the case that was a really nice detail to add, Vrains. Emma and Kengo seemed to have teamed up as a brother and sister bounty hunter team in the network which is fitting. Go is back to being his entertainer self to please his younger fans. I’m planning on giving my full thoughts about Vrains sometime later this week hopefully so I’m get into more detail about him and everyone else there. The Knights of Hanoi are taking Takeru’s declaration to heart and are watching over Link Vrains from Ryoken’s freaking cruise ship apparently while Ryoken and Spectre are watching over everything inside of Link Vrains. Now that Vrains is over, I officially have to ask. Where the actual hell is Ryoken getting all of this money from? Correction, WHERE IS HE GETTING ALL OF THESE BOATS FROM?! Geez and I thought we as a fandom were the shippers. This boy has a freaking navy of them in hiding.

HOMURA TAKERU GOT HIMSELF A GIRLFRIEND! MY BOY IS GETTING LAID TONIGHT! 

No but seriously, before they showed the duel disks and just them sitting on the bed, my brain went places. The dialogue did not help. Yes my brain is extremely dirty but that’s besides the point. 

ENTRUSTSHIPPING IS CANON! YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!

I like to think that wherever Flame ended up in the A.I. afterlife, he is looking down at Takeru with a proud smile during this moment. I also just find it fun that since Kiku doesn’t have an avatar, if anyone knows her in real life sees her in Link Vrains with Soulburner, they are obviously going to put the pieces together real quick about who Soulburner actually is. I’m in just such amazement right now over this even though I had any idea that something like this was going to happen. During the closing interviews from the VAs, Kaji Yuuki made a comment about how we were going to be seeing Takeru getting “unmasked” during the finale and I just knew that something like this was going to happen and I was not disappointed at all. I’m sorry but I just have such a huge sh*t eating grin across my face because of this. 

THIS IS AWESOME!!!!! I CAN’T BELIEVE THEY ACTUALLY MADE THIS CANON!

How is it that Kiku, a freaking SIDE CHARACTER, ended up being my favorite female of Vrains? I don’t know, I’m just going to move on before I start freaking out again about these two being so freaking adorable. 

I do like how Naoki, as soon as he saw these two, makes it his new goal to get himself a special someone of his own. I don’t know how that’s going to work out for him but hey good for him.

And as for Yusaku, the shows ends with him going on some kind of journey, leaving his final fate obscure which is pretty normal for a Yu-Gi-Oh series as they did the same in the past with Judai and Yusei. My guess he’s going around the network to try and find a way to bring back Ai and maybe the rest of the Ignis.

Speaking of which, the last scene we get of this series is that Ai is apparently alive. Maybe. Who actually knows. He could be in A.I. heaven for all we know but if that’s the case I feel they would have shown us a scene of him being greeted and welcomed by the rest of the Ignis but what we got of him instead was him in his eyeball form looking to be restored. Man Ai is literally like a cockroach and I am saying that in the nicest way possibly. He gets his data eaten by a dragon, tore to pieces by a Data Storm, destroyed by a powerful program, and even kills himself by his own hand and yet he still lives. I am very curious to know if anything is going to come from this reveal, such as if YGO 7 actually is a crossover series, or if this was just the writers giving us a break and letting us know that Ai is still alive and there is hope of him returning. I mean I’m happy he is alive, don’t get me wrong, but I feel like it would have just been fine keeping him dead with the rest of the Ignis. Because if he is still alive, won’t Ai just try and kill himself again? Seems kinda counterproductive but I digress.

So yeah, I very much enjoyed the final episode of Vrains. The series had a lot of problems, and I mean A LOT of them, but it had its shining moments, such as this. Like I said, I’m planning to go into more detail about my full thoughts about the series but when it comes to its ending, I think it delivered what it needed to. So from the bottom of my heart, thank you Yu-Gi-Oh Vrains. You were a freaking struggle to watch at times but you were a joy to have around all the same. I guess the best compliment I can give you is that you literally are Ai. You are insufferable at times but you had your charm that kept me coming back for more and I’m sad to see you go just like I was with Ai.

Now it is onto Yu-Gi-Oh 7th and who knows. If it actually is a crossover series, Vrains might just be back sooner then we expect. I hope so because I’m not ready to say goodbye to my meme-lord and my fire child and his new girlfriend yet! I don’t think it has fully hit me yet that Vrains is actually over and it is going to suck when next week comes around and there is just no more episodes.

[tjkiahgb]

Episode Recap: 3.10, “The Quacks”

The episode picks up not long after the last episode ended, with Buffy asking her friends just what in the hell that Secret Society scheme was all about.

Her friends, who were super excited to help Walker out last week, waste no time throwing him under the bus now.

Jonah didn’t like the Secret Society stuff.

Cyrus didn’t like the robes.

Andi thinks it was kind of a sick way to ask someone to a dance.

Walker watch out for the bus oh my god he has airpods in he can’t hear us! oh my god!

Buffy reels off a list of the things she didn’t like about what happened: no to surprises, no to being put on the spot, and no to predictability. The candles were cool though.

Andi asks if Buffy still likes Walker and she gives a resounding ehh. Buffy explains that Walker made her shoes like how he made Andi shoes once, a long time ago. Andi thinks that is so wrong. Buffy says it’s his “signature move.” Andi and Buffy imagine Walker’s given shoes to every girl in town.

Am I going crazy here? He’s an artist? He makes artsy gifts for people? This would be like getting mad at Andi for making you a craft gift. It’s what she does! It’s not like Walker’s going around giving everyone cheap store-bought gifts like horrible little gnomes or neon green shoelaces. As long as he didn’t copy the exact mural he made with Andi that one time, what’s the problem? It’s a homemade gift. He had to spend time working on it. It’s still really nice. By this standard, would he have also not been allowed to make a drawing of Buffy as a gift? He’s already done that for Andi so that’s off the table. Find a new way to be creative, Walker. Make a necklace out of discarded soda can tabs or make a headband out of an old belt or something. I know art is your thing, but, sorry, you’ve played that card. It’s over now. Move on.

By the way, Andi and Buffy assume, with zero evidence, that Walker is going around town giving shoes to every girl like an unfixed cobbler in heat. Why?

They also assume all those girls would wear those shoes he gave them as gifts to public places like the school dance, despite not being in a relationship with him. I do feel like most people wouldn’t wear something an ex gave them while currently being in a relationship with another person. That’s so thoughtless. Wear shoes Walker gave you as a romantic gift while hanging out around your current boyfriend? Who in the world would behave like that? That would be crazy. A monument to poor decision making. I simply can’t imagine.

Aaaaaanyway, Cyrus assumes that’s it then. Buffy’s breaking up with Walker. And Buffy’s like, yeah, we’re done. I’m ghosting him. Cyrus tells her that’s not good enough. Talk to him. Break up with him in person.

Feels like Cyrus could save himself a lot of energy by recording a voice memo on his phone that says “YOU HAVE TO COMMUNICATE!” and just playing it for his friends over and over again.

Buffy thinks Walker knows, but Jonah assures her he doesn’t because: “He’s a guy.”

The pinpoint accuracy of those three words rattles Buffy to her core.

At the dance studio, Cyrus... dances?

...has a seizure?

...gets attacked by a swarm of gnats?

...reenacts the Ides of March?

...is possessed by the spirit of an evil marionette?

I’m just not sure.

Amber shows up and asks if he’s rehearsing being electrocuted.

Ah. Damn. That’s a good one.

Cyrus tells her he has to come up with an original dance for his choreography final and perform it. Wild that he’s already got a final exam. His dance class was like a month long. No wonder it seems like all he’s learned to do is flail his arms about. Amber volunteers to tutor him in the art of dance choreography.

Wait, does Amber know how to dance? I mean, I guess she did at the house party that one time. But can she really teach Cyrus to capture the raw, super strange energy of this performance?

I have my doubts.

Over at Bex’s, Bowie presents Andi and Bex with a surprise.

That’s right! A plank!

Andi wants to know who the Quinns are. Bowie thinks they all will be, after the marriage. Bex isn’t so sure. (Maybe hyphenate?) Bowie thinks it’s important, bonding them all together as a tribe, but Bex also thinks it’s important for everyone to choose their own identity. (Hyphenate?) Mack is part of who Bex is. For example, it’s on her bowling shirt. (Hyphenate. Stitch “-Quinn” right on to the end of that bad boy.)

Andi proposes they mash up their names but they realize that would make them the Quacks and abandon that idea so quickly they never even consider they could also become the Mann family, which is pretty sweet.

Back at the dance studio, Amber asks Cyrus to touch his toes. He can’t, but in fairness, he’s only been at this dance thing for like two weeks.

Amber tries to get him to do some moves but Cyrus says it’s too hard, so Amber hair-slaps some sense into him.

At the gym for the first Spikes game, Buffy watches the opposing team warmup and settles into some depressing fatalism.

Her teammate, who the end credits tell me was named Kaitlin, says the team is well-aware of that because Buffy’s been saying it all week. Kaitlin tries to get Buffy to say something that builds confidence in the team but Buffy’s not interested.

The team’s coach shows up.

Her name is Mrs. Deborah Mendenhall. She’s the guidance counselor. She’s also late to the game, knows nothing about basketball, has the gait and posture of an elderly woman, and is dressed like a flight attendant for some reason.

On the bright side, she brought orange slices.

So at least no one will get scurvy.

Kaitlin points out that the good news is they don’t have enough girls to even play. Buffy’s shocked no one else is coming and wants to know why. Kaitlin tells her it’s probably because Buffy’s spent the entire week telling everyone they were going to lose and be humiliated.

Look, say what you will about TJ as a team captain, but he only went after one player on his team. Buffy recruited this girls’ team, then spent several weeks alienating and insulting them and eventually got 2/3s of her team to quit before they even got to play their first game.

I hope she’s cleared her calendar for a ton of redemption arcs.

Buffy says the loss would have been really embarrassing, but now they’re going to have to forfeit, which she feels is way worse.

I disagree. You can forfeit with some dignity. Floundering around the court while the other team beats you down leaves barely any room for that.

It’s like this. Say you’re going to a party, but right before you get there, you get mud all over the back of your pants. Huge stain. Can’t get it out. Just go home, right? Forfeit the evening. You walk into that party and everyone’s going to think you had a horrible accident. You can desperately try to explain it’s mud, or you can try to own it in some weird way I can’t even imagine, but let’s be honest, all you’re going to get is a mean nickname and an unflattering reputation about town.

The lesson, kids, is if you have a chance to forfeit, forfeit.

Buffy decides, instead, she’s going to try calling the team.

Up in the stands, Andi asks Libby if she’s still planning on breaking up with Jonah. Libby is. She then points at Jonah and mimics him texting like a dope. Jonah, who is good at picking up subtle hints, wonders if these two are talking about him.

Buffy has no luck convincing anyone from the team to come get publicly humiliated. I say call TJ. Tell him to grab a wig and race down to the gym. Worth a shot.

Instead Buffy looks into the stands to try and find a replacement. She spots her artsy friend who’s shown almost zero athletic ability over the years...

...and thinks, yep, there’s the ticket.

So, Buffy drags Andi out of the bleachers and to the locker room to change as Jonah and Cyrus head up to sit next to Libby.

Cyrus greets Libby with sign language.

Oh, by the way, Cyrus also knows sign language now. Where did he find the time? I can barely commit to the 10 minute Duolingo Spanish lessons on my phone.

Jonah asks Cyrus to do some translating. He wants to know if Libby is mad at him. Libby wants him to learn sign language. Jonah apologizes through Cyrus, but Libby walks away.

Cyrus tells Jonah texting Libby used to be an okay way to communicate, but now the two have been going out for a while. Perfect opportunity for him to pull out his phone and play the “YOU HAVE TO COMMUNICATE!” message.

Also, a while? It’s not been like, a couple weeks? Cyrus’s dance class is over already, Buffy’s team is just now having their first game of the season, Jonah and Libby have been dating two years and I’ve lost complete understanding of the timeline again.

Jonah says he hasn’t learned because he’s afraid he’ll be bad at it.

Cyrus says it’ll be enough if he’s making the effort, but I just want to put this back on the table: forfeit the relationship. Take your mud-stained pants and go home.

At Bex’s, Bex approaches Bowie to do some compatibility testing of their relationship by asking some big questions and jotting down some answers to compare.

Bowie asks her about calzones. I’ll take this one, Bex. It’s pizza with excess bread. It’s hard to get a good cook on the stuffing. The toppings are rarely dispersed in a satisfying way. Not worth it.

Oh? Guess Bex and I are more compatible than I thought.

Bex wants to play seriously though, so they jump in. Bex asks if Bowie would ever want to have more kids, to which Bowie is like...

I mean, why not? If it all goes wrong, Celia’s still around, right?

Buffy brings her newest basketball recruit out to the gym so the game can finally begin. Things don’t start so hot.

Andi gets a pass and then takes off running with the ball like a halfback on a football team.

She forgot about dribbling. Bad sign. Dribbling is probably the second rule almost all people know about basketball behind knowing that the ball has to go into the basket to score points. God, I hope she remembers that at least.

Things don’t get much better from there. The public humiliation of the basketball team happens just as it was foretold.

Mrs. Mendenhall, meanwhile, spends time handing out snacks to the opposing team.

I’d normally be mad about this but she clearly has too many oranges. There’s only five people on Buffy’s team. Might as well not let them go to waste.

Andi gets the ball again and immediately turns it over.

Buffy was worried about being embarrassed, but honestly, Andi’s taking the brunt of it here. Maybe stop giving her the ball? Save her from herself.

Buffy mercifully calls a timeout to think things over.

She pulls the team into a huddle. They think she’s going to chew them out, but instead, she thanks them for showing up. She apologizes for being a bad captain and says she’s realized losing is not the worst thing ever. It’s great that those who showed up are there and that they’re in the game.

Or, basically, isn’t it nice to just be alive and doing stuff? Which is a decent message for life but a really low bar to hurdle for team sports. Congrats to us all on not dying.

They start playing again with a newfound, joyous outlook. I’m glad they’re happy with this, but their play is hurting me physically.

Kaitlin catches a pass and goes up for a lay-up from about a foot away from the basket and nearly misses not just the hoop, but the entire backboard.

It thuds off the side of the backboard and makes a noise that’s like nails on a chalkboard to me. This should be a wake up call for Kaitlin to get her vision checked. Or some kind of medical checkup. Something’s wrong.

Andi gets a pass, then, for some reason, spins, runs the wrong way, and hucks a wild shot up from half-court at the wrong basket.

It goes in as the game ends. Everyone celebrates for different reasons. I’m light headed.

Are we really sure that wasn’t worse than just leaving early? Are we really going with the lesson here of: “Kids, it doesn’t matter how terrible you do, as long as you do.” I hope no one growing up to be a doctor or pilot feels that way. Please, do those jobs well or don’t do them at all. No one’s gonna cheer you if you put the wrong organ inside your surgery patient or get lost and crash land into the ocean.

At Bex’s, Bex and Bowie review their answers and find themselves to be really compatible.

I think the biggest sign of their compatibility was that neither of them thought to ask the other any of these big, important life questions before agreeing to get married.

Lack of forethought and an improvisational approach to life problems suits them well, I guess.

Jonah meets Libby outside the school. He asks her to teach him sign language in sign language.

If he really wants to learn, he should hunt down the 5th grade teacher who made everyone else so fluent.

Libby agrees to. She tells Jonah she likes him.

Jonah says he likes her, 2. They seem to have reached a good level of understanding in their relationship. Amazing what COMMUNICATION! can do.

At Cyrus’s dance class, Cyrus prepares to deliver his final. Amber psyches him up, he heads out onto the floor, and...

Guys. It’s no good.

I mean, he’s doing this march walk thing.

And this scuba move like he’s dancing at a party from some 1960s beach movie.

And the robot.

His big finale is the sprinkler, of all things...

...followed by the Glee throw-your-fist-up-and-look-to-the-sky move.

I just don’t see how Cyrus passes this.

How do you watch that as a dance teacher and not go, “That was the laziest collection of basic, stock dance moves I’ve ever seen. Did you learn nothing? Did you even practice?”

Is this all another lesson about just showing up and doing a terrible job and being happy with that? Again, it’s good to have a positive attitude, but that’s not going to save your GPA.

At Bex’s, Bowie sits Andi and Bex down for a new surprise.

That’s right. Another plank!

Bowie probably should’ve learned to get everyone on board with his decision first before committing to a plank. That “The Quinns” plank is basically expensive firewood at this point.

But Bowie wins Andi and Bex over with this one.

And the news that he intends to take the Mack last name. It really was a foregone conclusion. Doesn’t he know what show he’s on? It’s called Andi Mack, not Andi Quinn. There’s already all tons of merchandise. What are you going to do, render that stuff worthless? Pfft. Good luck going up against the Disney Corporation’s profits, bud.

Bex wants to know if he’s sure he wants to be a Mack, and deal with all of the things that come with being a Mack. But Bowie’s in.

So, the Quinn names dies with Cookie. Long live the Quinns.

At school, Buffy takes out her phone and makes a call. The person on the other end of the line picks up. Buffy’s like, hey, last time I saw you, I don’t think I handled things very well and can we please meet up to talk?

And who’s on the other end of the call?

This guy!

Oh, who is this guy again? God, it’s on the tip of my tongue. It was a weird name. The kind of name they stopped giving babies in the 1950s.

I wanna say Harry? Ronny? Ralph? Was it Ralph? I feel like there was a Y in there.

Let’s just call him Not Walker for now until I can dig through the Andi Mack wiki for answers.