#i saw the same thing happen to other games before they were abandoned T-T

[scintilans]

🌙💜⭐️

[eringobragh420]

🖤 Pairing: Damian Priest x f!Reader 🖤 Summary: Damian and his girlfriend’s relationship is on the edge of collapse, and they discover a new, interesting way to reconnect. 🛑 Warnings: NSFW. Angst, alcohol, cockwarming, dirty talk, unprotected p in v, cum 18+ 🖤 Notes: Spanish translations are at the end of the story. I do not speak Spanish, so if anything is incorrect, please let me know and I’ll fix it! ❤️ It's super long, so I marked where the smut begins for my feral beauties ❤️ 🖤 Taglist: @pittieprincess22, @cyberdejos2, @brideofinfamy, @rainbowdreams-x. If you’d like to be added, please click here! 🖤 Requested By: Anonymous. Hope you enjoy! 🖤 MASTERLIST

Staring at the label on the empty bottle of beer in her hand, she heard Damian’s boisterous laughter across the bar. She remembered a time not long ago when her own giggling would have been mixed in, but instead, here she sat, abandoned by her boyfriend so he could watch some stupid baseball game on the TV behind the bar with a group of other drunk guys he’d only just met this evening. She glanced over her shoulder at him, the tallest guy in the place, hair in a wet ponytail, dressed in his Yankees jersey, band t-shirt, and ripped jeans. Sexy as ever—the man only got more attractive with each passing year. His gestures were big as he entertained the circle around him, probably regaling them with stories from the road as a WWE superstar. She rolled her eyes, returning her attention to the beer bottle. She considered getting another one, but how much fun was it really going to be to be pissed off and drunk?

“You look lonely.”

She glanced up, eyebrow cocked, and found not a bad-looking man standing next to her table, but a man just the same, who was not her boyfriend. She cast her eyes back to Damian, and he was still otherwise occupied.

“I’m really not,” she replied.

“Sure you are,” the man argued, taking it upon himself to sit across from her. She inhaled deeply through her nostrils and all she could do was hope Damian remained oblivious. “I saw your man leave you over here like an hour ago.”

Had it really been that long?

“Well, maybe I’m just not very good company,” she deadpanned.

“I don’t believe that,” the man said. “A pretty girl like you? You’d be the best company, and I sure as hell wouldn’t leave you alone all night.”

“Listen, I appreciate the interest, but—”

The man’s eyes lifted, focused on something behind her, and she didn’t need to turn around to know what was happening, or about to happen.

“Somethin’ you need?” Damian’s hulking presence was beside her, and she took another deep breath, leaning against the back of the booth. 

“Hey, man,” the guy seated in front of her said, lifting a hand a beer bottle, “nobody’s doing anything wrong. Just havin’ a conversation.”

“Oh, okay, cool,” Damian said, leaning his fists on the table, muscles and tattoos rippling beneath the sleeves of his jersey. “Let’s have a conversation.”

The man across from her tilted his head and told her, “Good luck,” before beginning to climb out of his seat.

“The fuck is your problem?” Damian commanded, shoving the guy with one hand as soon as he stood up, freely knocking him off balance and to the sticky floor.

“Damian, relax,” his girlfriend yelled, slamming her bottle of beer on the table. “We were just talking.”

“Well I got some things to say, too,” Damian growled.

“Great,” she said, climbing out of the booth. “You guys talk it out, and I’m gonna go home.” 

Damian paused the stalking of his prey to focus on her for the first time since the incident began. They watched one another for a moment that lasted a lifetime, and she remembered falling in love with him the first time she saw him, she remembered feeling him the first night they’d had sex. She remembered holding hands and whispered secrets and promises of the future. He’d pledged to give her the world. Had he been lying when he’d sworn or had their relationship simply come to an unfortunate end? She didn’t know him well enough anymore to know the answer to what should have been a terribly straightforward question, and it horrified her, but she thought maybe if she could hold his concentration on her, he would recall all of those things, too. The good things. If he would just look deeply enough …

Damian severed their connection by turning back to a man and a situation that didn’t matter, and her heart disintegrated. Dusted, like in the Avengers. She grabbed her purse from the booth and had the Uber app pulled up on her phone before she even reached the door. She fought herself from looking back, repeating in her head that he wasn’t worth it—not anymore—in a futile attempt at making what she was about to do just a little easier. Yeah, right.

Once inside the Uber, her boyfriend having never once come out to check on her while she waited, she had another battle concerning whether or not to glimpse back. She kept her eyes forward until the vehicle was about to make a right hand turn, and suddenly there was a tug in her chest where her heart had once been. Like there was a string tied around the veins and arteries still remaining and it was connected to something she’d left behind. Clutching her aching chest with one hand, she pressed her other hand to the door to help her turn around, and she gasped, tears cascading down her cheeks. Damian was standing outside the bar, ponytail whipping this way and that as he searched desperately, perhaps finding what he was looking for in the back of the very vehicle she sat in as he promptly launched into an all-out sprint on the sidewalk, chasing after her. She slowly covered her mouth, weeping at the agony etched on his face, and she slid down in the seat, closing her eyes. 

She loved him. By all that was good and gracious in the world, she loved him with her entire being, but she couldn’t fucking do it anymore. She finished crying over the rest of the ride home, to their home, and she mumbled a thank you to the driver before getting out, closing the door behind her. The car sped off, she watched it go, and she imagined the scene was much like the one Damian had witnessed just a short bit ago. Her eyes slid to their front door, and she wrestled more tears as she plodded inside.

Damian arrived home faster than anticipated, but she’d had enough time to get herself together, to expel all the tears and soothe her trembling body by the time he came bounding through the door. Seeing her standing in the middle of the living room, he all but skidded to a stop. “I didn’t think—” He gestured at the door and held up his keys.

“We need … no, you need to figure out what you want, Damian,” she interrupted. 

He walked slowly around the couch, approaching her as if she were a lioness that could and probably would strike at any moment, rip him to pieces and devour him. When he was within a few feet, she took a step back. She knew what he was trying to do—he did it all the time. Get close enough to touch her, kiss her, hold her, coax her into believing she wasn’t mad about what she was really mad about. Her reaction stopped him dead in his tracks, and she watched his throat work as he swallowed.

“I don’t know—” he started.

“Of course you don’t know,” she interjected again, more tears pricking the corners of her eyes. So much for all cried out. “Why would you? It’s all about Damian. It has been ever since the beginning of this relationship, but I was too …” She sniffed, shrugged. “Too in love, I guess.” Her chuckle was pathetic as Damian breathed deeply through his nose, chest expanding and deflating. “And I thought you were in love with me …”

“What are you—? Of course—”

“Do you remember how we used to be?” she asked pitifully. “You were the Mickey to my Mallory …”

“Baby—”

“We actually made love for hours. We didn’t just fuck to cum like we do now.”

“Please listen to me …”

“No,” she stopped him one final time, her tone so soft she wasn’t sure she’d spoken at all. “I’m done listening.” She wiped fresh tears from her cheeks. “I put all your stuff for Raw by the door.” Damian’s brows furrowed and he turned to look at the door he’d just come through. His suitcase-on-wheels was lying on its front, a small duffel bag nearby—he’d blundered right past them. His eyes, now for the first time this entire evening beginning to show worry, returned to her, and they both knew how his luggage had gotten there from where he’d left it in their bedroom on the second floor. “I know you’re not supposed to leave for a day, but I just … I need you to go now.” Damian’s eyes fluttered closed and he scrubbed his huge hands over his face. “And while you’re gone, maybe you’ll remember what we used to have. How happy we used to be.”

“I’m—”

“If you say you’re happy, I swear to God—” She trailed off with a strangled chuckle.

“Oh, so you know how I feel?” Damian retorted.

She blinked up at him, and in his eyes, the ones that had once been so alive and so full of love, she could see misery and turbulence, and yeah, she could easily say she knew how he felt. She cleared her throat, brushing more tears from both cheeks quickly, as if she did it fast enough, he might not see how utterly broken she was. Maybe that’s what he needed to see. “I’m going upstairs,” she whispered, “and if you do love me, if you do care about me … you’ll leave.”

“Mi vida, please, just tell me—”

“You left me alone for an hour tonight!” his girlfriend suddenly erupted, and Damian’s eyes rounded. “We’ve seen each other four days in the past two weeks, and some fucking Yankees game has your attention? You try to fight some guy who didn’t know we were together because you left me alone for an hour?” Damian’s lips pursed and he remained silent for once. She sighed. “Goodbye, Damian. Have a safe trip.” 

She gave him a wide berth on her way to the stairs, stepping over his luggage as she headed up. Hurrying into their bedroom, she closed the door and locked it behind her, and by the time she’d slid down the wood until her ass met the carpet, she was a blubbering fool, covering her mouth to keep from crying out, to keep from hollering for Damian and telling him she was just kidding, and could he just hold her for a while and then everything would be okay? In time, she heard the front door open and close again. She could almost feel his presence, his very soul, drifting further away from her, that tugging in her chest returning, and she collapsed in slow motion, floating to the floor on her side, hugging her knees to her chest.

She awoke some time later in the same fetal position, suspecting she’d passed out from sheer exhaustion. Lifting her head, her spine screamed from the base of her skull all the way to her tailbone, and the carpet stuck to her cheek—she could only imagine the pattern etched into her skin as she lurched into a sitting position. She’d left a lamp on in the corner of the room, the soft glow illuminating the empty space, the unmade bed she wasn’t sure she’d be able to sleep in at all, and as the quiet enveloped her, she wondered if there would ever be laughter here again. She looked at the chaise lounge opposite the lamp, a small smile quirking her lips when she could almost see herself straddling Damian’s lap there, and she could almost hear her voice whisper that she was in love with him and had been since shaking his hand on her first day at WWE.

She rolled her eyes, refusing to permit any more tears from staining her cheeks, but that didn’t stop the intrusive thoughts in the back of her mind. Did Damian remember these things? Did they mean anything to him? Did she? Or was it his career he was now madly in love with? She’d sent Damian away to decipher the answers to these important questions, but she wasn’t certain she’d be strong enough to hear the answers. She climbed to her feet, limping across the floor to grab her phone from her side of the bed. As she reached for it, she paused, rubbed her fingers along her palm, and took a deep breath—all she could do to prepare for what she might find waiting for her in her notifications.

The missed calls and text messages were both in the double digits, along with a few voicemails, all from Damian, and she swallowed a softball size lump in her throat as she opened the text messages. She knew damn good and well there was no way she’d be able to listen to his voice without breaking down once more, and she was so damn tired of crying.

She sat slowly on the bed, the earlier suspicion she might not be able to sleep here blotted out by the overwhelming need to somehow be near Damian even though she’d just sent him across the country a day earlier than either of them had anticipated. Her dying phone slid from her hand, thumping on the carpet, as she backed across the king-size bed until she was on Damian’s side. Somehow the man slept with only one very thin pillow, so she grabbed one of hers and added it underneath before slipping her legs under the blanket and sheet. She was instantly inundated by the scent of Damian’s leave-in conditioner, but most importantly, the spice that was simply him drifted inside her nostrils and she was both allayed and shattered at the same time. Still depleted, now more than before, her heavy eyelids fell and she drifted off into a land of nightmares.

As Damian’s plane bound for Washington crashed above her into the side of a mountain, she was jolted awake. Her upper body careened forward, hair flying, arms reaching out because maybe if she could just catch the plane … A hand on her shoulder brought her fully out of unconsciousness, and she jumped again. 

“It’s okay! It’s just me!” Tiffy. Beautiful, sweet, perfect Tiffy, but all Damian’s girlfriend could think about was the fact that Tiffy had Ludwig and Ludwig had Tiffy and they were disgustingly happy and she was wildly envious.

“Tiffy,” she whispered. “What are you …” She scratched her head, looking up at Miss Money in the Bank, eyes mere slits. “How did you get in here?”

“Damian called Ludwig,” she explained. “He said he hadn’t talked to you in hours and your phone was going straight to voicemail.” Damian’s girlfriend nodded, though not wholly comprehending. “He told me where the spare key was.” She held it up.

“I see,” the dejected woman in bed said. “Well, I’m fine.”

“Obviously,” Tiffy rolled her eyes, “just like Damian is just fine.” Her pink manicured nails formed air quotes.

“Tiffany, I really don’t—”

“Look. It’s almost one o’clock, so I brought two of these—” She lifted the neck of a bottle of wine out of her glittery tote bag. “Let’s talk.”

Damian’s girlfriend was really getting tired of people demanding she speak to them, but she supposed this was different. Maybe she needed another perspective. She sent Tiffany to the patio by the pool while she changed out of the clothes she’d worn to the bar the night before and then had slept in, brushed her teeth, and as she was headed across the bedroom toward the door, she spotted her phone still lying on the white carpet. She feared what she’d see upon bringing it back to life, so she left it where it was, closed the door after her, and met Tiffy by the pool.

Nursing a hangover on Sunday and into the evening on Monday thanks to Tiffy Time, Damian’s girlfriend was again in bed, on his side, iPad in her lap, Monday Night Raw on the television. Tiffany had succeeded in making her feel at least a little better, agreeing that things had gotten bad enough between them that sending him to Washington early was probably the best way to get through to him, although, she added, it seemed a bit harsh. She recalled a similar situation between herself and Ludwig—their schedules had been completely opposite, they never saw each other, and their connection had started to dissolve—to which Tiffany had responded in a completely different manner. Instead of kicking him out and sending him across the country, she’d done internet research and consulted various friends in search of a way to reconnect with her boyfriend.

And the route of reconnection Tiffany had discovered was now in the search bar of Safari: cockwarming. Damian’s girlfriend had heard of it, but never given it much thought, assuming it was just one of a million other ways to please a man, but Tiffany had assured her that cockwarming wasn’t about giving or receiving pleasure, it was about being present and intimate with someone you loved, building or rebuilding a physical and emotional relationship by linking together in the closest way possible. It made sense, and she was willing to try anything. 

She glanced up at the muted television, heart skipping a beat when saw Damian in the middle of a match. He looked tired, and maybe he was hungover too, and he just didn’t seem as on point as he normally was. A little slower, a little careless, a little like he didn’t give a fuck. She turned the TV off, rubbing at her forehead. She was responsible for his distraction, and she hadn’t meant for their problems to interfere with his work, but she’d acted so rashly in kicking him out, she hadn’t considered any effect it would have on his live television performance. She hadn’t considered him at all, if she were being honest, so what did that say about her? Maybe Damian wasn’t the only one who needed to figure things out.

Without warning,  a bolt of lightning shot through her entire body, a current of electricity coursing across her skin, and she jumped out of bed. She looked at Damian’s side where she’d been sitting, her pillow under his, and it wasn’t right. She glanced at the TV and Raw wasn’t on and she wasn’t cussing at whomever Damian’s opponent was, and it wasn’t right. She hadn’t kissed him goodbye and he hadn’t slapped her ass for good luck, as was their routine, and it wasn’t right. The way she’d made him leave, ignoring him—none of it was right. Her eyes cut to her phone on the bed, to her purse on the chair, ending on a pair of sneakers in the corner of the room. Her brain shut off, leaving her heart in control, and her legs were moving. She grabbed the phone and the purse, slipped her feet in the shoes, and jogged downstairs. She grabbed her keys from the table and slammed the front door behind her.

She found herself at the airport, still on autopilot, and she bounced from one foot to the other as she waited in line to purchase a ticket. When she finally reached the desk, she placed her wallet on the counter. “Hi,” she said, “I need to get to Seattle tonight. Right now. One way.” 

The lady behind the computer punched several keys. “Well, it’s your lucky day,” she beamed, and Damian’s girlfriend suppressed the urge to punch her. “I have one seat left on a flight leaving in thirty minutes.”

“Great.”

“It’s $1,798.” Of course the only seat left would be first class.

“That’s fine,” she said, rummaging through her wallet for her credit card and identification. Damian was worth it, their relationship was worth it. 

Aboard the plane, she tried to sleep, but it was impossible. She tried to read a book on her phone, but she couldn’t concentrate. She ended up spending most of the flight reading and rereading Damian’s text messages, self-loathing growing with each pass. Yes, he was responsible for their abrupt separation, but she was just as much to blame. 

Landing in Washington, she checked her messages again, this time tapping on the thread with Rhea, who’d responded to her question while she’d been 37,000 feet in the air. Armed with the information provided by Damian’s closest friend, she ordered an Uber and gave him the address of Damian’s hotel. She rode the elevator to the top floor, wondering if he’d had to pay extra for a last minute booking, which, again, would have been her fault. Same with the price of his plane ticket. Of course, whatever she’d cost them monetarily paled in comparison to the time she’d cost them. 

SMUT Standing in front of Damian’s hotel room door, she knocked softly. Moments later the door opened, and there he stood, the love of her life, the Mickey to her Mallory, the very face she wanted to see before she died. He was in a black sleeveless shirt and black basketball shorts, and he looked burnt out and used up, and was she accountable for that too? But when he realized who was standing in front of him, those dead eyes reanimated, and his hunched shoulders squared. They gazed at one another for an extended moment, a silent conversation passing between them, an ask of permission and consent granted.

Damian stepped into the hall, and his girlfriend raised her elbows so he could position his big hands under her armpits before slowly, tenderly, lifting her in the air, not unlike picking up a crying toddler. Her arms slipped around his neck, her legs around his waist, and he completed their puzzle by enveloping her in his protective embrace. She tucked her face into the crook of his neck, crossed her feet behind him, and she was home. He held her for a while in the hall before stepping back inside the hotel room, the mechanism at the top of the door closing it for him, and then he held her some more, still standing, placing a hand on the back of her head. Eventually he took a seat in the chair beside the bed, his girlfriend repositioning her legs so she was straddling him, sitting back on his thighs, and they were able to look at each other again.

“I’m sorry,” he spoke first, cupping her face. “You’re right. I took you for granted. I took everything we have for granted.” He shook his head, eyes round and clear and the most delicious shade of chocolate. “I know what we were before … and I know … we’re not—we’re not that anymore. Just tell me how to make it right.” He brought their foreheads together, and her hands braced herself on his hard chest. “Tell me how to fix it. Because I ain’t quitting, and I ain’t letting you go.”

His girlfriend smiled for the first time in days, but it was fleeting. “I shouldn’t have kicked you out. I’m sorry, too.”

Damian shook his head, eyes searching her face. “No more apologies.” He kissed her forehead, and she laid her head on his chest. “So what do we do?” he mumbled against the top of her head.

Her eyes opened. “I just think we … need to reconnect,” she said. “And … I might have an idea how we can start.”

She explained cockwarming with a hell of a lot less grace and knowledge than Tiffany, and a hell of a lot more embarrassment, if her superheated cheeks were any kind of clue. But Damian listened, and his focus was solely on her, and he didn’t make fun of the idea, and they were already headed in the right direction. They agreed to give it a try here and now, as there was no better time than the present, and they were both too exhausted to engage in much else. The couple made their way to the bed, Damian’s girlfriend toeing her shoes off before they removed each other’s clothing, and they climbed under the blankets.

The experience was supposed to be more about intimacy and less about having sex, she’d illustrated, but, to make it easier for him to slip inside her, she’d have to get at least a little damp. It was no secret what Damian did to her simply by existing, so he smirked, brushing her hair from her shoulder so he could cradle her neck, thumb caressing her jawline. He pressed their lips together, the couple sharing a sigh of relief, and she rested her fingers on his wrist as they kissed. All the fear and worry and stress melted away as her arousal grew, and as they’d both suspected, it didn’t take long for her to become wet and ready, and, consequently, for Damian to become hard.

“Sorry,” he said.

“That is something you’re never gonna have to apologize for,” his girlfriend assured him. They shared a smile. “Just try to keep from, you know … fucking me.”

“Easy for you to say,” Damian commented, and they snickered. “How do you wanna …?“

She rolled over to her other side, backing up against him, semi-hard dick slipping between her ass cheeks. Damian whispered in her ear to be careful, and she couldn’t help the smile. They were going to get through this. He positioned her how he needed, making sure she was comfortable before slowly sliding inside her. He moaned, playing it off by clearing his throat, and she was barely able to mask her own whine. His arm slid under her pillow, gripping her hand that was already there, his other arm wrapping around her, and she held that hand with hers against her chest. He twitched inside her, and her pussy instinctively clenched around him, and their holds tightened on each other.

“You know it’s been, like, 50 hours since I left,” Damian said, following a moment of adjustment and silence.

“Damian …”

“No, I—I just mean … that was 50 hours without you. 50 hours to think about everything, all of it. So I don’t want you to feel bad for kicking me out. You were right. I needed time to figure things out.”

“And what did you figure out?” she asked. Considering he was inside her and holding her and he hadn’t slammed the door in her face, she knew his answer was at least a little positive.

“I haven’t been there for you,” he said, voice so deep, his girlfriend could all but feel her pussy producing slickness. “I made my job and everything else more important than you. And I’m sorry.” He pulled her closer, his cock slipping that much deeper within her. His biceps were unforgiving but protective, and the steady rise and fall of his chest comforted her on a level she’d never experienced before. “Baby, I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” she said, squeezing his hands.

“You don’t—”

“Damian, there are two people in this relationship. What if I had just talked to you about how I was feeling weeks ago? We could have avoided—”

“I know me, you know me. It wouldn’t have had the same effect as kicking my dumbass out of my own house had.”

She sighed, believing what he said, but there would be no way to erase the guilt she still felt. 

“I love you, querida,” he uttered into her ear. “Eres mi vida, mi alma, mi todo. Siempre.”

Her body shuddered, Damian’s arm tightening around her. “I love you, Papí.” He pressed his face into the back of her neck, and the couple was physically as close as they could possibly be to one another. She felt her heart rebuilding, she felt their connection rejoining, and she knew just this one night wasn’t going to solve all their problems, but they were making an effort, and that was enough for now. “I love when you’re inside me,” she breathed, eyes closing.

“I know,” Damian whispered.

She awoke sometime later, eyes slowly blinking open. The sun was beginning to rise and her body was moving, ever so gently, her head sliding up and down the pillow. Regaining consciousness, she realized that where Damian had been semi-hard and comforting inside her before falling asleep, he was now solid and thick, filling her to the brim, and his hips were thrusting somewhat casually against her. And then she heard a faint snore from him, and that explained everything. She thought about waking him, she really did, but he felt too fucking good and she’d missed him too fucking much, and it had been a long fucking time since they’d been so intimate. There was no way she could fight this.

She let him continue, his pumps erratic and varying in strength, but she didn’t care. His hand rose from the mattress, sliding past one nipple to cup the opposite breast, which he instinctively squeezed, groped, and that particular pump was hard and deep. She cried out, smacking a hand over her mouth, but it was already too late.

“Shit,” Damian breathed. “I’m sorry, I thought I was dreamin’.”

She reached back, grabbing at his hip over the blanket. “No,” she whispered, “please don’t stop.”

“But—”

“Please, Papí,” she begged.

Damian attacked her neck, sucking, biting, and she moaned into the pillow, imagining proudly wearing his marks for all to see on the way home. His thrusts became steadier, more powerful, and his hand returned to her breast. He brushed the cool metal of his rings along her nipple before pinching and pulling, and her back bowed, pulling him deeper inside her pussy.

“This isn’t …” he trailed off, panting, and she recognized the sounds he was making, the words he was repeating.

She lifted her hips away from him, allowing him to carefully slip from inside her. Rolling over, she climbed on top of him, stroking his big cock a few times before lining her pussy up with the head. Meeting Damian’s gaze, she sank down onto him at a snail’s pace, watching as his eyes averted to witness their bodies join together, lasting longer than she expected before he laid his head back on the pillow, eyes closing, mouth uttering a string of obscenities. Biting her lip, she massaged her soft hands along the firm planes of his tattooed pecs until she found a suitable position that would allow for optimal riding. As she was about to lift her hips, Damian’s fingers encircled her wrists and raised her hands, melding their palms together, their fingers intertwining, his elbows anchoring them to the mattress.

“Ride it, baby,” he growled.

Grinning, his girlfriend’s eyes closed and her grip tightened on his hands and her hips started to move. She was instantly reminded of his size as she rose, her pussy shrinking back to its normal proportion the further he was removed, only to be stretched again with the next downward thrust.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Damian moaned, as she repeated the action over and over.

“I missed you so much,” she breathed, impaling herself fully and then grinding her clit against him. She freed her fingers from his and put them back on his chest, her entire body moving with her hips.

“I know,” Damian whispered. He grabbed two handfuls of her ass and took control of the pace. “Fuck, yeah, bounce on it. Bounce on my cock, baby.”

She obeyed, though he was doing most of the work, which ended up with him holding her still and his cock hammering up into her. “Oh, God,” she squeaked, his pounding hitting that secret spot inside her. “I’m gonna cum, Papí.”

His hand wrapped around the back of her neck and he jerked her down until their lips smashed together. “Say my name,” he breathed. “Say my fucking name.”

“Damian,” she wailed, pulsing around the battering ram that was his dick. Their lips smacked and their teeth clacked, and her throbbing cunt milked his own orgasm. The kissing continued as they rode out the waves of pleasure, as every ounce of stress and heartache and worry melted away, to be replaced by hope and love and positivity for the future.

Sleep was knocking, and she slowly descended until her cheek was on his chest, his softening cock staying warm within her. “I love you,” she whispered, almost like an afterthought, and Damian chuckled, placing a hand on her head.

“I love you, mi vida.”

🎀 Mi vida — My life 🎀 Mi alma — My soul 🎀 Querida — Dearest/Beloved, term of endearment 🎀 Eres mi vida, mi alma, mi todo. Siempre — You’re my life, my soul, my everything. Forever 

[cephalofille]

The pain of my soul in HD: Exhausted of chasing love

Hé salut les potes! Howdy?

T I'd like to give a more intimate side of this artist you've known from 20 years now, cos I imagine you'd appreciate it. There will be a new section on this blog who will be called

"The pain and Joy of my soul in HD"

Of course, HD here doesn't mean "high definition", but more precisely, "high detail". This section will feature some of the most saddest and most joyful moments of my life. Mostly the moments that occur today and in the future. But there might be also past moments written here if some of my present experiences triggers in my soul a flashback of old times that are either too joyful or too painful.

Allez c'est parti! Here's the first entry:

The pain of my soul in HD: Exhausted of chasing love

I still feel very sad due something that happened recently. I'll not give you details cos they're personal.. But a summary, cos I feel my heart is in pain right now, so maybe talking a bit, it helps me to feel a bit less sad? I've fallen for guy who reached me on twitter to be friends, at first he was really nice with me.

He is french, so he even talked me a bit in french, and with time, we realized we shared a lot of passions and tastes , he asked a photo of my face and he gave me one of him so we could know each other. With time I confessed my feelings to him, and he said he had a crush on me, but he wasn't sure about starting a new relation because of a personal tragedy, so I understood. I saw I'd wait, and that I still was happy to know him and I enjoyed his company, he said he also enjoyed talking with me.

Then it happened my accident when I broke my leg, and I woke up days later at the hospital. I was thinking of him, and this gave me the force to be awake and come back to be online. So of course, I was waiting for a warm welcome from him, but something changed.

Now he isn't as loving and nice as he used to and doesn't talk me with the same frequency either. And I have no idea of why! Things were cool before and we seemed to enjoy our company a lot.

The change is clear. For example, today I messaged him, like usual, and he preferred to do other things with other people, but had no time to talk to me, not even a hi message. When before he always made an effort to talk me cos he knew that cheered up my day.

One of my family members I've talked about, thinks that this is the kind of womanizer guy who doesn't respect or appreciate girls, and just wants girls for some brief fun, but nothing serious. And suggests me I should block him because he is going to hurt my heart a lot more later. And one dear friend says this happened cos I rushed and "I told him my feelings too early" or something, and that was bad cos I wasn't being "misterious" enough so that's why he no longer appreciates me. And she recommends me I should try "the difficult girl trick" and not send him messages of any kind for a while, and only talk to him if he talks to me.

But honestly, I'll not do that either. Those are teenager's games. I'm a grown up ass adull in her 30's, and he told me he has the same age.

So I just told him that I give him my love and it's sincere, and that it's up to him if he appreciates it or not..But I'm not sure if that will make him to reflect and start to appreciate me more...or if he's actually a jerk who's just playing with my feelings like people arround me say.

Honestly…I'm so exhausted of "chasing men"…

And "chasing love" in general… I'm exhausted that always at the end men break my heart, and being abandonned, not knowing why or what I did wrong.

And in some cruel irony of life, there's one dear friend of mine who have told me he would he fell for me and would like to be my boyfriend, and he does show it with actions and not only with words because it's really nice and attentive, and I can feel he cares about me for real....but he isn't native French and doesn't talk french either.

which...it's not a problem right now, but it will be if I decided to make a couple with him, cos:

1. we will probably never have intimacy, cos I'm francosexual and francoromantic (romantically and sexually attracted to people who speak french, no necessarily native french, but french-speaking people) I will never be turned on enough with him to actually climax, so I'll be unhappy and sexually frustrated, just like it happens right now that I'm single and celibatarian.

And 2. Cos french language, I cherish it deeply! So, it's very important to me to have in on my everyday life. It's already sad and painful the fact that where I live now nobody talks french. It will be even sadder for my heart to wake up every morning by the side of someone who doesn't talk french.

I really wish this other peep learned french....cos I can feel it's a kindhearted guy and truly loves me, so I wish I could have the same intense feelings for him, but I can't force things.. So...I feel like...love for me is like a mountain I wanna climb, but I'll never be able to... A river I wanna cross, but I struggle with the river flow which is on the opposite direction and will not let me cross....

[midnightwinterhawk]

I put together a little collection of Sterek and Steter fics for funsies. “Just a few fics”, I thought, “nothing too crazy.” Thirty fics later I had to cut myself off and finalize the list. You can thank @the-cookie-of-doom​ for the inspiration. 

These primarily fall under the Hurt Stiles Stilinski category because I apparently like to see my comfort characters suffer. Most of these have hopeful/happy endings but mind the tags. For reals.

Placed under a cut since I have no self control and this turned into a long post.

Sterek

adore to see your eyes fly by @1001cranes

(11,309 l E)

stiles is a pyromaniac, derek is a sociopath. a match made in some kind of heaven. teen wolf kink meme fill.

take my heart from me by @areiton

(23,188 l NR)

He didn't really mean to adopt Derek's pack of puppies. He didn't mean to make himself important to them.

To Derek.

He just wanted to keep them all safe.

That's all Stiles ever wanted.

"Why Can't You?" by @asterekmess

(3,602 l T)

Now. This was happening now, and he couldn’t be less prepared.

-

After a long night, things between Stiles and his father come to a head.

And You Say You're Alone by bi_leigh_bi

(30,314 l E)

Between the kanima, the Argents, and Peter's untimely return from the dead, everything has fallen apart. Stiles and Derek try to put their lives back together once the crisis has passed. Stiles deals with the aftermath of being tortured, and the distance growing between he and Scott. Derek attempts to become a stronger alpha and keep his pack safe, and that includes Stiles.

A Victory March by @churkey

(2,688 l T)

When Stiles is eight he learns that nothing will be the same. His dad comes home one day after work and sits Stiles down for a talk. He explains that werewolves and all the monsters are real.

They're real and not hiding under anyone's bed.

Bury the Moon by darthjamtart

(16,592 l M)

First things get bad. Then they get worse. Stiles doesn’t know what he’s sacrificed until it’s too late.

Dying is the easy part.

Love's Violent Delights by @dexterous-sinistrous

(10,685 l E)

Derek caught the way the man’s eyes looked over Stiles before lingering on his ass. He waited for the clerk to place the key on the counter before he reacted.

Stiles startled at the loud noise, turning away from the pamphlets in the display box to see Derek pinning the clerk’s head against the counter. He drew in an even breath, looking between the struggling man and Derek.

Derek briefly looked at Stiles, hesitating before he saw the gleam of excitement in Stiles’ eyes and the hint of lust in his scent. “Ever look at him, or any other Omega, like that again, and I’ll slice your eyes out with my claws.” He shoved the man back, not caring of the commotion that was made as he snatched up the key from the counter.

Empty by @discontentedwinter

(48,034 l M)

Jordan Parrish is the new sheriff of Beacon Hills, a town haunted by its past.

Your Vision Borrows Mine by hazyascent

(188,781 l E)

Stiles has encountered a fair share of monsters before, way out of his league - the kinds that children are afraid are hiding in their closets and under the bed.

He’d even become one himself when he was void. The nogitsune was in his house, his body, and his mind.

But the worst monster he’s ever faced took even more from him and got away with it.

It’s why Stiles has never really been as terrified of werewolves and kanimas and darachs as he should have been. They’re really not that scary, relatively speaking, and he has a whole team on his side. They always found a way to win - until they lost someone they really loved.

Stiles doesn’t know how to be normal, not after everything he’s done and everyone he’s hurt. The nogitsune is gone, but another monster is on its heels.

His uncle is back. And Stiles has never felt more alone.

It Was a Wednesday by @isthatbloodonhisshirt

(80,129 l M)

“What happened? Where are you? What’s that sound?”

Derek jumped, having momentarily forgotten Scott was on the phone with him because Stiles had started moving. He’d stalked over to the other side of the cave, still eying Derek warily and growling, then settled protectively over a mass of clothes, leaves and animal innards. It was probably where he was sleeping.

Lovely. No wonder he smelled like death.

“Stiles,” Derek said, answering Scott’s question. Or, one of them, at least.

“Stiles? What do you—Stiles is making that noise?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“How fast do you think you can make it to the south lot of the Preserve?”

Tiny Houses by @ohmyjetsabel-blog

(77,183 l E)

"So this is what Stiles does. He lies in Scott’s bed and waits for Melissa to say she’s found someone to get it out of him, to cure him of the wrongness and the bad, and he dreams.

God, he dreams.

He dreams of fire and swollen bellies and that scene in Alien, of giving birth to jackals through his urethra, the whole horrific nine yards. His head is a terrible place to be, he can’t imagine his stomach is much better, why anyone would want to put a thing inside of it."

I'm There in the Water by @spaceprincessem

(15,878 l T)

“But it’s—” Derek paused, his words unsure, “it’s not like us,” he swallows hard, chin dipping to his chest in frustration, “it’s like a…”

“An abomination,” Stiles finished, nodding his head as he finally lets his gaze really look at Derek since Scott had pulled them from the water.

He suddenly wished he hadn’t because the way Derek looks at him makes Stiles feel like he is ten years old again. Like Derek is seeing him for the first time since they accidentally fell into each other’s orbit all those years ago. Like Stiles isn’t a burden or invisible.

Like he is enough.

Or five times Stiles felt like he was drowning and the one time he finally caught his breath

Gunplay is Not Really Our Kink by theroguesgambit

(2,577 l M)

“The rules to the game are simple. One bullet, six chances. You pick it up and take turns pulling the trigger on the other man, or we gun you both down right now. You play along, only one of you has to die. Fun game, huh?”

--

Derek and Stiles are captured by a group of hunters and forced to play a twisted game that only one of them might walk away from.

The Price by theroguesgambit

(18,452 l M)

Stiles must surrender the most important thing in his life to protect the town… and no one can figure out what it was.

Nieważny by Zethsaire

(2,037 l E)

The pack is gone, everything they've ever cared for destroyed. Now Stiles and Derek hunt the hunters, taking revenge in the only way they know how; blood.

Steter

Make Me Bleed by @asarcasticwitch

(2,304 l E)

Peter’s expression contorts, impressed or surprised, Stiles can't decipher, but the grin on his face proves he’s not exactly disappointed with the unexpected turn of events.

“Which bite exactly were you hoping for, hm?” The older man curls one hand around the back of Stiles’s neck, trailing his thumb along his pale, fragile throat.

Stiles tilts his head back in unyielding submission, giving the wolf no room to debate his sincerity. “I’m sure you can figure it out, Alpha.

Two Roads Converge in a Graveyard Town by @cywscross

(15,645 l T)

The Deadpool brings one more assassin to Beacon Hills. A man's gotta eat after all.

when you're going through hell (keep going for me) by cywscross

(57,022 l T)

Peter is abandoned in the aftermath of the fire, and Eichen House takes ruthless advantage. Six years later, when he's finally able to move again, he finds himself in a cell with a boy in a straitjacket.

(Kate’s biggest mistake was letting Peter live. Eichen House’s biggest mistake was letting Peter meet Stiles.)

Don't Fail Me Now by @discontentedwinter​

(36,315 l E)

Stiles goes to Derek looking for help.

He finds Peter instead.

Peter takes what he's wanted for a very long time.

Sanctuary by DiscontentedWinter

(56,525 l M)

The Hale Wolf Sanctuary isn’t just for wolves.

It turns out it’s for Stilinskis as well.

Bite Down by EclipseWing (@shadow-of-the-eclipse)

(27,586 l M)

In which Stiles is forced to survive the zombie apocalypse with a sociopathic murdering werewolf for company.

Into Eden by @graciebirdie

(12,232 l M)

Stiles deciding to bring home the stray alpha he'd hit with his jeep probably made him certifiable, if it hadn't turned out Peter was as crazy as he was.

Before you let go (and the light takes you in) by Issay

(4,032 l E)

Stiles makes one last errand - goes to leave flowers on all the other graves. Fuck, so many graves. The grief is as endless and as inescapable as the sky.

He goes home and there is a thing wearing his father's face, waiting for him in the kitchen.

Call My Name by KouriArashi ( @gingersnapwolves )

(81,370 l M)

After moving to Beacon Hills, Stiles starts having recurring dreams of a man in some kind of prison, who needs his help. Things get so bad that he ends up in Eichen House, where he finds out that the man is real.

Hide my tears in the rain. by MrsRidcully

(6,865 l M)

After  years spent successfully dodging werewolves, evil spirits and wendigos,  it was a drunk driver who stole his Dad, a drunk driver with a  suspended license and a record sheet as long as Stiles’s arm. Stiles  would have laughed at the irony if he hadn’t been so busy screaming.

In My Veins Like Disease by romanoffbarton

(1,140 l T)

He tries to leave once.

Foreshock by @twothumbsandnostakeincanon

(22,816 l E)

The day Stiles’ mom died, he almost leveled his house.

Not on purpose. Not even by mistake, really. More by instinct.

Since then he's dug his fingers into everything his has left, holding on with desperation.

Desperation never stopped an earthquake.

Your Touch is My Choice by twothumbsandnostakeincanon

(2,171 l T)

The first time John does it, Stiles is two years old and about to run into the road.

“Mieczysław!” Heart pounding, John grabbed him by the back of his neck and got a hand around his tummy, snatching him back. “No, you have to stay away from the road,” he said firmly.

Shameful Company by Whispering_Sumire (@whispering-sumire755)

(38,779 l E)

"Did I turn into a unicorn?" Peter asks dryly, and Stiles glares at him for a moment before the laughter bubbles up, unbidden, nearly unwilling, and he looks so surprised at the sound, his shock dimming it for a moment before it bursts through with even more trembling ferocity. A long, thin, willowy hand curls into a soft fist over his mouth, and he's shaking, frail, more tears falling, but the copper of his eyes are glowing, crinkling around the edges and scrunched with mirth.

"No," Stiles chokes, chuckling wetly. "No, fuck you, a unicorn? What, like, Rainbowcreep? Zombiesparkle?"

[About a year before the fated Hale fire, Peter starts having nightmares that involve a woman with red hair. The nightmares lead to a spell that brings a man back through time, and, eventually, though the time-traveler is traumatized in the most horrific ways, and Peter's never been good with or for people, in general, they develop a bond that neither of them expects.]

Would You Forgive Me If I Called You Hope, Peter Hale? (Hope, By Any Other Name) by Whispering_Sumire

(10,099 l T)

Stiles has scars. He owns that, he accepts it, he's cataloged and memorized every single one, he's hyper fucking aware of them all.

//

"What do you want, Peter?" Having the more untrustworthy of the Pack getting protective weirds him the fuck out, leaves an odd fluttering in his chest, like moths, waiting perilously and suicidally to be burned.

He doesn't like it.

"You're injured," the man says, "and whatever it is, it's put you in enough pain that I nearly fainted when I-"

"- Used your werewolf mojo on me without my permission?" Stiles smirks, and Peter gives him a black look, crossing a leg over his knee and smoothing out some invisible wrinkle on his pants.

"Tell me the truth Stiles, how bad is it?"

[Or: The one where Stiles has scars, is more than a little fucked up, and Peter notices. He helps.]

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

I’m sorry, but can I just go on a little rant about the Louis, clouis, and the Clem comic...? 

I didn’t really talk about Louis in my overall review of the comic because I wanted that to be more contained to the content shown on the pages, Clementine’s relationship with AJ, and her as a character.... but the more I think about these comics and Louis, the more frustrated I become thinking about what Clementine abandoning everyone would do to him. 

[... okay it’s not little anymore since I guess I can never just do anything simple when it comes to Louis, sorry my bad]

So, no surprise, we all know the comic’s bullshit by now. Clementine leaving everything and everyone behind because she’s not happy is dumb, AJ just letting her go is dumb, and Clem going to the mountains on crutches and a peg leg to find this so-called happiness is dumb. 

Now that we’ve established it’s dumb, I wanna talk about Louis because I got a lot of built up feelings about how bullshit this storyline is with how Clementine would not only abandon AJ, but also abandon Louis. 

Because let me tell you..... his heart would be broken beyond repair and I need to talk about why.

Sigh.... so.... muh boy. 

Before he met Clementine, Louis was this laidback, irresponsible, but caring and musical person who kept his head down to avoid conflict and never looked at the future. He was the kind of person who took things one day at a time, saw survival as a day-to-day task, and said that the future doesn’t exist, there’s only today. You get the point, he was never too concerned with things because they always seemed to work out, and if they didn’t, then that sucks and that’s why we should appreciate every day while we have it. 

Louis is shown to be charismatic and friendly, he spends his free time playing piano and card games, but no one really takes him seriously. Not even Marlon, his best friend for 8+ years. While he doesn’t seem to be on bad terms with anyone [including Aasim, they just act like people who disagree with the other’s point of view and have had the same argument many times, but that doesn’t mean they hate each other, y’know?] he also doesn’t appear super close with anyone outside of Marlon and possibly Violet, but even then. 

Marlon’s shown to have little faith in him with the way he talks about if Louis will even show up to hunt. He has a controlling grip on Louis that’s prominent during the confrontation scene when he uses intimidation to try to convince Louis to not interfere. Oh, and there’s the fact that Marlon’s been lying to Louis for the past year about the twins and then continued to lie to his face about what really happened to Brody... which isn’t great when you consider how Louis was the only one who had blind faith in him as a leader and, according to Marlon, was the only one who couldn’t see how pathetic he always was. 

Violet, while having a few more nicer moments with him than Marlon, still invalidates him and his feelings several times throughout the first half of the game which makes me wonder how close they ever were, or at least if Violet ever considered him a close friend to begin with. And no, a small monologue in the dorms doesn’t make everything better or confirm they were brotp the whole time... especially when once they’re on the boat, Louis might as well not exist because Violet can’t be bothered to acknowledge what happened to him or inquire about how he’s doing. I guess she just didn’t have time react while standing in her cell for several unbothered minutes-- no wait, it’s she already reacted off screen. Right. Good writing is good.

What I’m getting at here is that even though Louis is surrounded by people who he genuinely cares about, there is an argument to be made that he’s a lonely person. Hell, he’s aware of his loneliness when he says that no one hears past his music and jokes. I mean, how many nights do you think he spent by himself playing the piano because no one wanted to hear it? Are they like Violet and crack jokes about how he doesn’t have actual talent? Probably, given that someone literally carved “you suck at playing” onto the side of the damn piano. 

Oh, and let’s touch on that backstory of his. Louis grew up wealthy with two parents who loved him and each other, and they gave him anything he wanted except singing lessons. Louis says he wanted to be a real musician. But I guess his father didn’t like that idea and told him no, with the [as Louis puts it] dumb dad lesson of, “You get to be happy, or you get to be rich, can’t be both.” ...which is interesting given that Louis and his family were stupid rich but also.... were they not happy? well, that doesn’t make sense because little Louis knew that if he broke up their marriage, they would be hurt. 

So yeah, Louis was so upset that his father continually refused to let him take singing lessons that he broke into the man’s credit cards and faked an affair, which led to his parents divorcing... and then he spit his father’s words back in his face. 

Then they dumped him at Ericson. And the walkers came. 

There’s so much to unpack from the story he tells that it could be it’s own analysis, but basically.... Louis is aware of why what he did was fucked up, and he carries it with him every day. 

He regrets what he did, chews himself out for being such a “vindictive fuckhead” [and the amount of force used in that line tells you a lot, like how it’s not the first time he’s chastised himself like this] and he admits that he doesn’t even know the person he’s talking about. Yet, he still sees himself as bad, saying that they [I assume the staff] told him and the other kids they’re bad people. I don’t doubt that Louis internalized that which played a huge role in the confidence and self-esteem issues he has during tfs. 

Anyway, I’ll come back to this later, but when you take that amount of guilt and regret, and mix it with the fact that they dropped him off at this school that was supposed to make him better.... then the walkers came and those teachers, staff, and headmaster? Gone. Left a bunch of kids to fend for themselves, with the exception of Ms. Martin [but given how she looks when we find her I doubt she lasted that long] and I cannot imagine how horrifying that was for all of them. The dead are up eating people, and if you die you become one of them... and the people you thought you could rely on just fucking left you to die at this school. 

Every kid in that school has trauma and abandonment issues from before and after the world went to shit, every last one, and Louis isn’t the exception here. Over the years, a lot of kids died and they’ve all seen horrible shit. They all knew they were never going to see their families again, and as far as we know, no one came to get their kids at the beginning. They had to find ways of coping while trying to survive, and all they had left was each other. 

Louis copes with music and games and jokes. He’s built up this persona where it seems like he’s unaffected by the comments the others make, that the death and suffering he’s gone through is in the past, that he is confident and open to those around him.

But then Clementine and AJ show up, and Louis grows close with both of them. They had immediate chemistry upon first meeting, he was the one who looked after AJ since it seems like everyone else saw him as a little terror, and he went out of his way to be kind and make them comfortable. 

When they go hunting with him, Louis and Clementine have a moment after taking care of the walker where they lower their guards a bit-- Louis gives her more in-depth reasons for his views of survival, and going off her expression, it gets to her and makes her think.... but they’ve know each other a day and he’s not quick to infodump his life story or let her in, so he cuts the conversation short.

Then we have the Marlon confrontation scene that I have gone over so many times in the past. I won’t dillydally with it too long but..... Clementine appeals to Louis, who curls in on himself because of the control Marlon has on him. He wants to help, and hell, he knows this is wrong but he’s so used to not getting involved that he gets defensive.... plus, he’s known Clementine for two days, and he’s known Marlon for 8+ years.... he wants to believe Marlon but you can tell he doesn’t want this, either. It takes Clementine talking to him to give him courage to stand between her and Marlon’s gun and it’s a lot.

AJ shoots Marlon and everything goes to shit, and Louis is a goddamn mess. His best friend was murderer right in front of him, so add that to the trauma list, and he’s overwhelmed with all these feelings that again.... they keep getting invalidated by Violet because “Marlon was a liar and murderer, therefore you shouldn’t feel bad about his death. Get over yourself, Louis, you can be such a shithead sometimes.” 

Oh yeah Vi, I guess he should care more about two people he’s known for a total of two days rather than for the safety of the people [including you] he’s grown up with and cared about for 8+ years.... makes sense. 

So yeah, little to no support during this time. Alone again. 

And just because I have to make this clear so no one gets a hair up their ass-- both Louis and Violet are wrong here. Kicking them out isn’t the solution, but neither is acting like AJ was right to commit murder just because it was Marlon.

 But plots gotta plot, so they get voted out and you can see that Louis is conflicted about the whole thing. He wants them gone, but at the same time, he knows what kicking them out means. You can see it on his face that he’s not okay with kicking them out. He’s hurting when he’s there in the dorms telling them how the vote went... he literally doesn’t know what else to do. He just knows that everything hurts, Clem and AJ caused it, and he wants the pain to stop. He even tries to justify it to himself by figuring that they’ve done this before so they’ll be fine. Not a great thing to say, Lou. 

Anyway, we know the story, Clem and AJ come back and Louis once again sees the consequences of acting out of pain.... AJ is shot because Louis was hurt and he made a bad decision that he’s gotta live with.... something that he’s done before, and this affirms to him that he’s bad. He wishes he could take it back, and goes as far as to admit that to Clementine during the archery scene. 

By the way, credit to him for his apology to her. It’s rare in these games that Clem gets a genuine apology from someone who hurt her and doesn’t turn around to repeat the hurtful behavior, y’know? Plus, I can think of plenty of characters who owed Clem an apology in the past or if they did apologize, it was half-assed. 

You can feel how conflicted he is with this whole thing-- learning who Marlon really was and what he did, feeling something for Clementine before everything went down and not knowing how to handle those feelings afterward, caring about AJ and understanding why he thought shooting was the best choice but still hurting that his friend is dead.... 

And the thing is.... Louis forgives her for so much, as she does him, and through all of that bullshit, they manage to develop that strong connection that turns romantic. Louis lets himself be fully vulnerable with her and is honest about his feelings, how she listened when no one else did and seeing him for more than just the persona he put on. 

This works on Clementine’s side, too. Clementine has been through her own fair share of bullshit-- trauma, abandonment, loss, injury, you name it. She’s made mistakes, done terrible things, and has been in enough groups to know that romance usually ends in heartbreak.... and yet, she’s willing to open herself up to Louis and admit she feels a lot for him. 

Is it a little rushed? Yep. Could it have been handled better? Of course, most things this season could’ve, but what we got was pretty good. 

So Clementine and Louis are romantically involved now, the raiders attack, and she saves him... and boy does Louis feel guilty about that one, too. He feels bad enough that he questions why she would pick him because he can’t fathom his life being worth saving over another’s. He doesn’t see himself as useful, and even though Clementine is literally his girlfriend at this point, his self-esteem is so all over the place that he can’t understand why she would have him at her side. 

And when Clementine tells him that he’s too important to her, he’s too baffled to even give a response. He looks at her in disbelief like he wasn’t expecting her to say that.  But this shows that at the beginning of their relationship, he still doubts himself, and through her working with him, he begins to build up that strength in himself. 

He becomes brave enough to share what got him sent to the school with her, and he plays Don’t Be Afraid for everyone at the party and like.... for once, everyone is listening to him. Really listening to him. They’re not talking shit about his musical skills, they’re not ignoring him or the feelings he’s putting into the song, they’re sitting there with him and I just..... if you watch him, you can see that his eyes get pretty glossy throughout the song. The moment meant something to everyone. 

There’s also the fact that Clementine asked him to come with her and AJ onto the boat, and to be the one in charge of the bomb... that’s a huge responsibly and he feels the pressure of that. He starts to panic a bit about if he can do it, because what if he fucks up? What if he gets them caught and makes everything worse? What if something happens to Clementine and he can’t do anything about it? 

She’s there to reassure him that she believes in him, and that he can do this. They’re going to get everyone back, and he needs to focus... then he asks her to slap him which why would you? that’s dumb, so Clementine smooches him instead and like.... he physically relaxes into her because he’s comfortable and trusts her in this situation. 

Also, he loves her and cares about this mission enough to cover himself and his fancy jacket in walker guts.... sure, he complains while doing so but how else is he gonna cope with rubbing rotten guts on himself to blend in with a herd of walkers? 

Skipping ahead so that we’re not here all day, I wanna talk about the walk back to the school because it’s one of the most important clouis moments in the game and a huge reason that solidifies why the comic is bullshit.

Louis went off on his own to go out and find them. He didn’t know where they would be, he just knew that he had to go out and find them after making sure everyone was okay back at the school because he couldn’t bare the thought that he had lost them. And the way the AJ gets so excited to see him? and the group hug??

At this point, Louis has grown so much as a character. With Clementine by his side to support him, he’s grown stronger and more reliable. Remember how he never thought about the future? Well, now he is because his relationship with Clementine has given him a reason to long for a future. He talks about building this imaginary house with her, one he knows they can’t physically build... but it’s his way of saying we can build a home together, that he wants a future with her and AJ and everyone else. It’s such a personal conversation that flows so easy between them. Louis is more comfortable talking to her about things from his past, which is something he didn’t want to do back in ep1. 

He confides in her how he’s feeling after he shot and killed Dorian, he tells her that having a home means protecting it and I just.... it’s so good, okay? And from Clementine’s side, you can feel how at ease she is with him, too. Just the way she smiles at him as they’re walking? like he’s the cutest thing and she’s so happy to have him with her? 

But then we gotta deal with Minerva’s crazy ass on the bridge and well, AJ shoots Tenn and Louis is having flashbacks to Marlon and it’s not great. That’s a whole thing, and he ends up separated from them while escaping.

We don’t get to see Louis’ reaction to Clementine getting bit and losing her leg since I guess that puts a damper on the overly happy ending. But, going off of what we know about him and what I’ve explained [which isn’t even all of it, this isn’t a full Louis character analysis. if it was, it would be much longer and in multiple parts... believe it or not, I’m trying to not make this too long and only sorta failing...] we can get an idea of how he would react. 

Um, to say he was upset is an understatement.

Because remember, he had no time to think and climbed over the fence, thinking he could get them to climb over and they could get away, but it didn’t work. He ended up leaving them in order to save himself since walkers were closing in on him.

But you know that he’d blame himself for the bite. A lot of, “if I had just stayed” and “I should’ve climbed back over, I should’ve stayed with you.” I’m sure there were points where it looked like Clem wouldn’t make it and I can’t imagine how much hurt he went through watching her suffer and heal from losing a leg like that. 

Not only that, but knowing that AJ was the one to do it? And him thinking about what Clem’s death would do to AJ after all this? There isn’t a doubt in my mind that Louis would take care of AJ if she died. He cares about AJ, and he loves Clementine, so he be there for both of them, even if he’s still hurting from Tenn’s death. 

However, Clementine didn’t die. She survived the bite and amputation, and when we flashforward, she and Louis are still happily together. Louis is right there next to her at dinner, and he’s the one to help her with her crutches. He’s there to go over future plans to meet the traveling caravan, and Clementine wants him to be the one to go. 

Oh, and Louis once again forgives AJ for shooting Tenn, claiming that he understands that AJ saw something that he couldn’t. Like with Marlon, he’s not happy Tenn’s dead but he can see why AJ did it to save his life. 

I just..... happy ending. Clementine and Louis are together and she’s truly happy to have found a home for her and AJ with him at Ericson. 

....But then the comic thought it would be fun to say “nah.” 

The comic isn’t canon, I’m still insulted that it would ever consider itself as such, but even so I can’t help but feel so frustrated about how this would destroy Louis. 

He finally found someone he would consider his best friend, not just his girlfriend. She saw past that funny man persona and he trusted her enough to let her past this wall he built around himself. He let himself become vulnerable around her, he named his song after her. Their initials are carved into his piano with a heart surrounding them. He loved her. 

Clementine left him feeling loved, something he probably hasn’t truly felt since he was a little boy with his parents before their divorce. She loved him even after hearing his past because she knew that wasn’t him anymore, and she helped him build the confidence he needed to step up. Because of Clementine, Louis wants to enjoy every day while also looking at the future. He isn’t lonely anymore, he has her and AJ. He’s truly happy.

So to tell me that Louis would wake up one morning only to have AJ tell him that Clementine’s gone, she’ been planning an escape without telling anyone because she wasn’t happy...? I’m sorry, but if you think that wouldn’t leave Louis absolutely devastated, then you know nothing about him as a character. 

This idea is just.... look, Louis is perceptive. That’s a big part of his character, he’s perceptive of those around him. If Clementine was showing signs of being unhappy or depression, he would see it. He would notice a change. He would be able to tell if something was off, and he would ask her about it. Louis is the type of person to ask you what you need. What can he do to help? What do you need to feel better? And if you don’t know, it’s okay, he’ll help you figure it out in any way possible. 

Plus, the comic suggests that there are times where she went off on her own but came back [probably doing her escape prep ugh] and you expect me to believe that Louis wouldn’t notice that or wonder what she’s doing? Wouldn’t sense that something’s going on? 

After she’s gone, he’s going to blame himself for not being enough. He couldn’t make her happy and he was a fool to think he ever could. AJ lost the only family he’s known since he was born because Louis couldn’t help her, couldn’t do anything to stop her from leaving. 

And for him to realize that she didn’t love him? Clementine, the girl he thought the world of because of how strong and confident and in-charge she was, because she saw him for who he was..... she left him, abandoned him... and she couldn’t even be bothered with a goodbye.... that says that she didn’t care all that much about him in the end.

You KNOW that he would think he had this coming, too. How could the universe allow him to fall in love and be happy with someone who loved him back after what he did to his parents? He would feel so heartbroken that he would see this as some sort of karma for breaking up his parents happy marriage as a kid years before he ever met Clementine and before the apocalypse.

I fucking can’t.... I don’t have the words to fully explain how much I hate this. Louis wouldn’t be okay afterward, and I doubt he’d ever fully recover. I wasn’t joking when I mentioned before that Louis would stop playing piano. How could he sit there and play when I he can see is their initials and remember the night she confessed to him? When he named his song after her? Clementine left and took the music with her because Louis wouldn’t have it in him... something that he used to cope would be ruined and that’s just.... it’s fucking awful. 

Not only that, but now he has AJ who I assume is hurting just as much [though the comics inaccurately assume he would just let Clem go sooo... yeah] and he would be the only one Louis would really talk to about it, but then again.... what if AJ doesn’t wanna talk about it? What if AJ starts to act out and things just become terrible and Louis is just too overwhelmed? 

I just.... UGH. That’s how I feel. UGH. 

Clementine from the comic? Not her. She would never fucking do this to Louis, AJ, or anyone else at Ericson, and you would know that if you played the tfs. 

Sigh.... sorry, I just needed to get this all out. I haven’t seen anyone talk about how Clem leaving would affect Louis and I’ve gotten some asks/come across some posts about Louis that have left me incredibly annoyed.... well, I was annoyed before because of the comics, so my annoyances with those things were only heightened. So yeah... I wanted to talk about Louis’ character in hopes of explaining why he would be so hurt if this comic was canon. 

Which it’s not. So it’s fine. 

How are we all feelin’ at this point, by the way? I know I’m not the only one still annoyed with the comic, so I hope y’all are doin’ okay. Hope you’re stayin’ chill and thinking about your faves to help cope with this mess hahaha

[volleychumps]

Hi hi hi! I just recently came across your blog and I’m loving it!!! Maybe an Akaashi, Bokuto, Kuroo, and Kageyama scenario where their S/O is a cheerleader and gets jealous when their team can’t take their eyes off them maybe?

Thank you for the request!! Oh, and btw you guys, I’m trying to do my requests in the order I get them and I usually have enough energy to do maybe one a day, two at most:(

Also, I switched up the character selection a bit so we could get more of the teams! Hope that’s okay!

Jealous Boys with a S/O who’s a cheerleader (w/ Akaashi, Kuroo, Kageyama, and Iwaizumi) 

---------------------------------------

Akaashi

“You’re cheering for us today?” 

“Yep! It’s my first time at one of your matches, I’m so excited!” You grin at your boyfriend, shaking your pom poms brightly as Akaashi bites back a smile, allowing you to plant a kiss on his cheek lovingly before moving to run back to your girls. 

“Good luck!” 

“You too.” 

“Y/N, you have to take your jacket off!” 

“Oh shoot, yeah oops.”

Akaashi stalls, glancing back as he heard that conversation. His eyes widen when you unzip your team jacket, revealing your cheer uniform. Your uniform hugged your breasts appreciatively, and it wasn’t good that he found it hard to breathe when he saw the length of your skirt. 

Who? Just who makes skirts that short? He thinks irritably before you suddenly turn to him to catch him staring. He gulps when you wink flirtatiously, blushing when your friends seem to make a comment about him to you as you wave them off, making a motion like yeah, that’s my boyfriend. 

Akaashi shakes his head. Cheer is what you do, who was he to make a comment at the...choice of attire? 

Clearing his head, he jogs back to his team, ready to warm up to play his best in front of you until he hears Konoha whistle appreciatively along with Komi, obviously eyeing up the cheerleaders. 

Akaashi blinks. It was fine, right? There were like, eight of you, they wouldn’t single-

“Bro, that (H/C) one though? Damn, she’s something else.” Komi blushes as Bokuto suddenly sweat drops.

“Thank god for mini skirts, looks like we’ll have a pretty nice view for when we play.” 

“Konoha, you’re such a perv.” 

“Sarukui, you just don’t know the ways of the cheerleader, observe the (h/c) one for instance, see her thighs? I would kill-” 

“Uh Konoha, I think you should stop-” 

“What, Bokuto? Aren’t you the one who’s into this kinda stuff too?” 

“No, but I am.” 

The whole team pause, glancing over at the quiet setter who had his brows furrowed in an obvious expression of distaste, blue-green eyes seeming to blaze directly into his teammates as Konoha quirks an eyebrow playfully, drawing up to the setter before Bokuto could stop him. 

“Huh? You too Akaashi? Which one’s the cutest to you, huh? Tell us~” 

Bokuto palms his face at the situation Konoha was digging himself in, deciding it was a lost cause before Akaashi scoffs, his lips pulling up in a slight snarl as he pretends to think. 

“Hm. That’s a tough one.” 

The Fukurodani team all exchange inquisitive looks with one another when Akaashi’s feet suddenly bring him to your position in front of the stands, bouncing up and down with your other cheer friends. Your eyes brighten when they see Akaashi, breaking out of the practice formation to jog up to him. 

“What’s up, love? Don’t you play soon?”  Akaashi puts both hands on the sides of your face and tilts your jaw upwards, his lips falling gently on yours before moving at a pace that was strangely possessive as your cheeks begin to burn. You knock on his chest with your fist as Akaashi kisses you harder, only letting you go when your breaths turn unsteady. 

 He had done that. In front of both your teams. 

Your boyfriend pulls back, blue-green eyes seeming to blaze as he swipes his thumb at the lipstick stain he had left, ensuring it was off before nodding once to you and beginning to walk away. 

“A-Akaashi-you-what-why-” 

“That one on the cheek earlier wasn’t enough luck.” Akaashi shrugs to you as he walks back to his gaping team, clasping Konoha on the shoulder as he swipes at the slight amount of lipstick on the corner of his mouth. 

“I don’t know, I think that one’s pretty cute.” 

“Akaashi, I didn’t know-” 

“Well, it’s a good thing you do now.” 

The Fukurodani team all shiver once in unison. Akaashi, the usual calmest member on the team, seemed the most dangerous when pissed off. 

Kuroo

“Good luck today, kitten. Try to cheer for me only, okay?” 

“You’re the one doing the hard stuff.” You grin up at your boyfriend as Kuroo smirks down at you, leaning to press a quick kiss on your forehead lovingly before pinching one of your cheeks, causing you to pout. 

“You’re really pretty, you know that?”

“Go! You start soon, dummy!” You blush, pushing your boyfriend forcefully away when his team enters the gym, running away from your boyfriend’s smirking figure in slight embarassment that his team almost caught the two of you like that. 

Kuroo strides up to his team, hands clasped around his neck before taking a seat on the bench as Kai and Yaku begin to go through the plays, not noticing the way Lev and Inuoka both shared small gasps. 

“Whoaaa, so we actually do have cheerleaders?” 

“H-How am I supposed to focus?” 

“Lev, just focus on the game.” 

“That (H/C) one is the prettiest!” 

Kuroo quirks an eyebrow, diverting his gaze. That caught his attention. 

“Uh, Lev, I wouldn’t-” 

Kuroo covers Kenma’s mouth, a sly grin making its’ way onto his face as Yaku and Kai both exchange looks knowingly. Before either of the third years can stop their team captain-

“Oh? What’s so pretty about her?” 

“S-She’s on par with Karasuno’s manager.” Yamamoto stutters slightly as Kenma shoves off Kuroo’s hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Someone like that goes to our school?” 

“Ne, Inuoka, do you think if I play good enough she’ll notice me?” 

“It wouldn’t hurt to try, Lev!” 

“Yep, it wouldn’t hurt to try.” Kuroo’s tone seemed to turn slightly sardonic, his grin never leaving his face as Kenma rolls his eyes, turning away from the situation to pull his phone out and shoot a quick text. 

Y/N-san, please come over here before Kuroo kills one of my teammates.

Huh?

Just please come. 

You blink, making sure to note how much time you had left before you had to be in formation before beginning to walk over to where Kenma was, noticing that your boyfriend had his chin resting in his hand, his signature smirk resting on his lips as he listened to whatever his teammate was saying. 

“Shoot! Shoot, I think she caught me staring!” Lev looks down quickly after seeing your approaching figure, pom poms hanging loosely by your side as Inuoka clasps his shoulder. 

“Lev, you should talk to her!” 

“Yeah, Lev.” Kuroo grins as you come closer, Kenma sweatdropping at the fact that him asking you to come over wouldn’t bring understanding. “You should talk to her.” 

“Uh, Kuroo?” You tap your boyfriend’s shoulder nervously, trying not to make direct eye contact with any of the staring team. You shift uncomfortably as your boyfriend glances up at you, eyes playful yet kind of annoyed. 

In the next moment, Kuroo had pulled you into his lap, leaving his teamates (The ones that didn’t know already) with their jaws agape you yelp and try to break free. 

“Babe, I came over here because Kenma said you might kill someone!” 

“It’s a good thing he did.” Kuroo nuzzles his face into your neck, opening one eye posessively as the first and second years begin to stutter out apologies. His hands trace over your bare thighs as you flush, hiding your face with both hands. 

“Everyone, meet (Y/N). My totally pretty cheerleader girlfriend who just so happens to be on par with Karasuno’s manager.” 

“Knock it off.” You force yourself out of his hold as Kuroo pulls you back down to kiss your forehead quickly, putting the cherry on top of the situation before you dash back to your own team in embarrassment. 

“Kuroo-senpai, I-” 

“It’s alright, Lev!” Kuroo smiles a little too nicely at the first year’s stuttered apology. 

“Just make every single receive and we’ll call it even.” 

“W-what if I don’t?” 

“You better hope you do.” 

Kageyama

“Look, I won’t embarass you, so just focus on your setting, okay?” You smile up in reassurance at Kageyama’s blushing figure, his blue eyes struggling to stay on your face because of your cheer uniform. He thought you looked amazing of course, but- 

“T-this is just the first time you’ve been at one of my matches-” 

“And I’m sure you’ll do great. So don’t overthink it, alright?” 

Kageyama’s eyes lock with yours before he nods once, turning around in a stiff posture away from your giggling self at how cute your boyfriend was. The dark haired boy jogs back to his team, all of whom had hardly realized the quiet setter’s disappearance. 

“Where’d you go, Kageyama?” 

“None of your business, boke.” 

“The cheerleaders are here to cheer for us! Noya-san, which lucky one shall we make fall today?” 

“You haven’t made any of them fall-” 

“That’s what you think, Suga-san.”

“Have you...ever seen her go to our school before?” Noya stares in awe, pointing directly at you shamelessly as Tanaka rests his elbow on Noya’s head for support, the same expression on his features as you giggle and jump with the rest of your team-

skirt flying high and all. 

Kageyama doesn’t look up, sipping from his water bottle as the comedic duo nearby him ogle the cheerleaders, noting it was just their nature before- 

“I think her name’s (Y/N)? She’s a first year.” 

“Are first years allowed to look that cute?” 

Kageyama’s grip on his water bottle tightens as Daichi gives them his signature stern glare, pushing the two towards the center of the gym. 

“If you have time to drool, you have time to warm up.” 

“W-wait, just let us try to talk to her-!” 

“Oi, Kageyama, we’re about to start, where are you going?” 

The blue-eyed boy had abandoned the clenched water bottle on the bench behind him, walking up to your giggling form with the most confidence he had ever mustered. 

“Kageyama!” You smile brightly, waving your friends to keep practicing without you before slow jogging up to your boyfriend. “Did you need some-?” 

The expression in the usually awkward’s boy was foreign to you as he spins you around by the shoulders so your back is facing him, pulling your hair out of your tight ponytail. You blink as his fingers run through your hair, gathering it all up to put it up again.

“What-?” 

“I didn’t mention it earlier, but it’s messy.” 

“I could’ve-!” 

“It’s fine.” Kageyama cuts you off, slipping your hair through the tie perfectly as you touch your hair for good measure, turning your head to smile sweetly in thanks. 

“This is new. But I like it. I like it a lot.” You say a bit shyly, looking down at your pom poms before Kageyama suddenly embraces you from behind, hugging your back into his chest as you flush at the strange affection he rarely showed. It only lasted a mere few seconds, and you laugh at how red his cheeks had turned, not being able to resist placing a kiss on the side of his jaw. 

What you didn’t know, was that you were just adding on to the show that Kageyama was putting on for his team, staking his claim. As you waved him off, cheeks pinkened from the foreign actions, you then notice the slacked jaws of the Karasuno team. Hesitantly, you offer an awkward wave as most of them awkwardly wave back. 

“Kageyama, you could’ve just said that she was-” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

Iwaizumi

“Since when do the cheerleaders come to the volleyball games?” 

“Since today, apparently.” You cheekily grin at your ace boyfriend, Iwaizumi rolling his eyes in turn as you pout. “What, are you not happy I’m here?” 

“No...I just don’t want to get um, distracted.” 

You blink, glancing down at your cheer attire before smirking slightly. “Oh? And what would get you distracted?” 

“Cheeky brat.” Iwaizumi mumbles in slight irritation, ears reddened as he pinches your cheek, causing you to whine. “The other fools in the stands might look at you.” 

“Wow, babe. I’m suddenly glad you don’t come to watch me cheer.” 

“What-?”

“Nothing!” You chirp, pulling Iwaizumi’s collar down to meet your lips quickly as you take off running before he can scold you, leaving the third-year a blushing mess at the hands of a first-year. Scowling, he turns back as his team joins him in the gym, pumped for the next set. 

“Oho, is the reason I think you went before us the correct one?” Oikawa’s smirk is infuriating and knowing, Iwa shoving him in his shoulder with his own. 

“Shut it, you piece of trash.” Iwa warns, beginning to stretch his legs before he pauses, seeing you take off your jacket from across the court along with your other teammates, feeling his breathing hitch. 

Damn did you look good in uniform. 

Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who thought that. Oikawa’s low whistle from next to him was enough for Iwa to “accidentally” throw his water bottle over his shoulder, feeling satisfied with the sound of pain that came from his best friend. 

“Hah, I’m so nervous...” 

“Is it because of the cheerleaders, Kindaichi?” Kunimi sighs, wrapping his fingers as Kindaichi scratches the back of his neck, cheeks flushed.

“W-well, yeah...plus (Y/N) from our class is part of it.” 

Iwaizumi stalls. 

“Yeah. I get it. It’s totally different seeing her in uniform.” Kunimi shrugs, not looking up from his taped fingers. Iwa feels an emotion he can’t describe rise in his chest, the breaths through his nose starting to become ones to control his breathing. 

“Whoaaa, lemme see!” Yahaba pushes Watari’s head down, smirking slightly as his eyes trace shamelessly over your exposed skin from a distance. “She’s a first year? Damn Kindaichi, have you made your move yet?” 

“W-WHat? I don’t like her, I heard she’s dating a senior! It’s just new seeing her so...” 

“Exposed?” Kunimi offers, still not noticing the amused team captain and deadly aura their ace was giving off as Kindaichi nods brightly to his friend.

“Yeah! That.” 

Hanamaki and Mattsun both take careful steps in front of the first years, being sure that they’re blocking the view from the now pissed-off ace. 

“Now, Now Iwa...” 

“We need them for when we leave, please don’t hurt them.” 

“Uh...senpai? Why-?” 

The humorless chuckle that slips Iwa’s lips is able to silence the whole team, sending shivers down the underclassmen’s backs as Kyotani watches on, indifferent.  

“You wanted to know why, right Yahaba?” 

“U-um..yes?” The last part comes out as a squeak as Iwa’s suddenly lifting himself out of stretching position and walking up to you, fire on his heels. You yelp when Iwaizumi’s strong grip clasps on your forearm, careful not to hurt you but still being a tad forceful about it as he pulls you away from your now confused team. 

“Iwa?” You blink as Iwa jerks his jacket off his body in hasty movements, dark eyes brimmed with a possessive kind of feeling as he wraps it around your upper body, not even letting your arms through the holes as the sleeves hang loosely at your side. 

As he’s zipping it up, his dark eyes are stare into yours with an intensity that made you gulp.  “I’m suddenly glad I’ve never come to see you cheer.” He grits out, fingers lifting your chin upwards so he could capture your lips aggressively, leaving your breathing unsteady when he pulls back, a bit of your lipstick on the corner of his mouth as he smirks slightly at your dazed features. 

“Good. Now they know.” 

You blink, still in a daze as you adjust Iwa’s jacket so that you could wear it with the sleeves, turning back to your shocked team with widened eyes. To your dismay, they were all giggling and motioning you back into the circle to tell them what had just occurred, your friends already fixing your lipstick for you as you try to hide your face in embarrassment. 

Oikawa’s amused grin for once, doesn’t piss off the ace as Iwa goes back to stretching as if nothing had happened. “Iwa, you’ve got a little something-” 

“Leave it.” Iwa doesn’t look up from his legs, his tone taking on a chilling one as he taps the lipstick mark on the corner of his lips once. The underclassmen all share a shiver as Iwa lifts his head, dark eyes spinning with triumphant rage as Hanamaki and Mattsun sigh. 

“Just in case they forget.” 

[watermelonlipstick]

Parking Lot

This is a love letter to the Dean who told Cassie everything about his life after knowing her for 2 weeks and who didn’t see What Is And What Should Never Be as a horror show until he saw his bond with Sam was gone. I don’t think it would work for a later seasons Dean, who had pretty conclusively abandoned this idea for himself. I’d love any advice or critiques!!

Title: Parking Lot

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3801

Summary: A parking lot quickie leads to an illuminating argument between Dean and the reader.

Warnings: Swearing, smut, angst, ~*idiots in love*~, fluff

           In a couple ways it seemed like a lesson; you really shouldn’t have been fooling around in a parking lot no matter how late at night it was. Especially not a bar’s parking lot, potentially more likely to be busy at this hour, shadows be damned.

           But it wasn’t all your fault, not by a long shot. Dean knew exactly what he was doing, getting a Manhattan rather than his standard straight bourbon just for the cherry, rolling it around with his tongue and licking his fingers of the juice while you waited for the guys you were playing pool against to shoot.

           If Sam had been there you might’ve been able to keep it together for politeness’s sake, but you didn’t give a shit about these people and you weren’t doing research for a case, just blowing off steam post-job before heading out of town in the morning.

           Two could play at Dean’s game, though, you arching your back deep into the table to make a shot and practically purring “your turn” when he was up, hovering close enough to see the goosebumps spread over his neck when he smirked and obeyed. He finished the game lightning fast with a string of laser-focused shots and you silently downed the rest of his drink as the guys ponied up, tossing thick folds of cash onto the table and shaking Dean’s hand. You didn’t even feel guilty for hustling them, partly for their ignoring you but mostly for the distraction of Dean’s hands reracking the balls and grabbing your coat, sliding a palm to your lower back with his pinky just barely under your waistband. It was all you could do to wait until you get to the back of the parking lot to shove him up against the Impala and bite his bottom lip almost too hard before slipping your tongue into his mouth.

           You felt the smile and heard the groan at the same time, both pouring into your mouth as you ripped at Dean’s jacket, trying to yank his flannel off his shoulders with it. You abandoned the project to paw at Dean’s tee once you’d gotten the outer layers bunched down around his elbows, kissing him hungry and dark like he was yours to take.

           One of Dean’s bitten off groans trailed off into a barely-there whimper. For all his posturing he loved this, when he could give up being predator and let go for a few minutes to be your prey. He didn’t start fumbling for the door handle until you flicked open his belt, his other hand clutching at a handful of hair at the back of your neck and kissing down your jugular fast and hard. Imagining the way Sam was going to roll his eyes at the hickeys only added adrenaline while Dean finally got the backseat door open, sliding you in and unfurling on top of you. Still working on his jeans, you dragged him tight between your legs.

           “You are—so—mean,” you grinned between kisses. “Teasing me like—that.”

           Dean’s eyebrows kicked up on his forehead, playing dumb like you knew he would. “Me? Never.” His act dropped the moment you finally got his fly open, wrapping your hand around his cock through his boxers and punching all the air out of his lungs. His head rolled back on his neck almost violently, impossibly long eyelashes grazing his cheekbones and lips parted around a breathy “fuck.”

           His switch flipped, Dean scrambled to strip you as fast as possible. You tried to help him in large part to avoid tearing your clothes, ending up crushed into the leather of the bench seat somehow with one leg fully out of your jeans and underwear, the other knee tangled up in the fabric. He’d shoved up your shirt and bra and it would’ve been uncomfortable and tight if any of your senses had been turned to it instead of Dean wetting his middle finger to slip-slide along your clit, murmuring something about “I love it when you do that,” into the side of your neck as he swirled circles into you. After a few moments you were writhing in the seat and Dean pulled that finger back up, sucking you off of it before pushing it up inside you, then another.

           “Fuck me, Jesus Christ Dean,” you moaned against his tongue, yanking him forward until he guided himself into you. The stunted warm-up helped but that first push was always a shock, and whatever sound you made was loud enough that Dean covered your mouth with his hand, grinning conspiratorially down over fingers still steeped in you as he thumped you into the car door.

           “Quiet—someone’s going to hear you.”

           You bit his hand and Dean yelped with a chuckle, pulling it back before you roped around his neck and kissed him lasciviously. “Don’t tell me what to fucking do,” you smirked.

           He stabilized himself against the Impala’s door to pound into you harder, you wrapping your legs around his waist and whisper-moaning filthy nothings into his ear, biting his neck until suddenly you felt that finely honed awareness pique in the back of your mind, flaring hot enough to burn and you froze, thighs clamped tight around Dean.

           “Baby, I—”

           “Don’t fucking move—did you hear that?” you hissed.

           Dean tried to pull back and tensed hard, shuddering into you as you tried to lift your head to see as surreptitiously as possible before the delayed processing hit you. When you looked up at Dean he didn’t meet your eyes, wincing over one shoulder with his arms still planted.

           “Tell me you didn’t,” you whispered.

           He was silent for a half-second, still didn’t meet your eyes. “I tried t—you fucking death-gripped me with your legs, what was I supp—”

           “Oh my god, get off of me,” you yelped, trying your best to sit up and snatch at anything to clean yourself up before realizing it was useless. “FUCK! Fuck, Dean, fuck, what’re we going to—I can’t be—”

           He leaned back into the seat to get back into his jeans and fasten his belt. “One thing at a time, okay? They’ve got like pills and stuff right? We don’t even know if it’ll take.”

           You rolled your eyes angrily at him as you jammed your leg back into your jeans. “Our fucking luck it’s already triplets.” You ran a hand through your hair and took a deep, hard breath. “Okay, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

           “No, I get it.” He slumped into the seat next to you. A long beat passed, you and Dean both sitting stupid, half-dressed in jeans and untied boots, hair all over the place. He cleared his throat. “Wanna head out?” His voice was small and rough; you knew he was sorry and maybe a little embarrassed. If you were more highly evolved you might’ve been able to console him more in that moment, but your heart was bounding through your chest about what was going to happen next—if. You managed to squeeze his hand in solidarity if nothing else before grabbing your stuff and moving to the front seat.

           Minutes of silent road passed before Dean reached over and covered your knee with his hand. You capped it with one of yours and saw his lips twitch up at the corner in response.

           He glanced over at you tentatively. “Maybe it uh, wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, you know?”

           Your incredulity spun you around in your seat so you were fully squared to him. “What?”

           It was dark in the car but you thought maybe Dean’s cheeks started to look pink. “I don’t know, teaching a little squirt how to play catch or whatever, might be cute.”

           “You cannot be serious.”

           His eyes flicked back over to you and his lips pursed out, trying to look non-plussed. “Whatever. Just trying to make you feel better.”

           “No, you’re not. Because that exact possibility is scaring the shit out of me right now and two minutes ago you were trying to convince me we were going to pill this away. So it’s—is that something you want? Having a kid someday?”

           Dean took his hand back under the guise of using two hands to turn the steering wheel.  “No.”

           You waited, willed your own heartbeat to slow down. As you knew he would, Dean kept talking, keeping his eyes on the road more to avoid the vulnerability of looking in your eyes rather than out of necessity on the long, straight stretch of road. “I don’t know. It really seems that bad to you? Having something that’s really, like, ours? Just you and me?”

           “We’re not talking about a something, Dean, we’re talking about a fucking kid.”

           “Jesus, fine, forget it. Sorry I asked.”

           His knuckles went white on the steering wheel and underlined that Dean Was Done Talking. What an absolute waste of a fun little night out, leaving Sam to have a couple hours alone. Now instead of getting back looser to a well-rested Sam, you were going to barrel into this crappy motel terrified with a pissed off Dean, dropping it all at the younger Winchester’s feet to deal with (again).

           It took you until the motel parking lot to muster up the courage to touch Dean’s wrist. “Can we talk for a second?” Dean pretended to be annoyed but you could tell it was an act shielding a spot of tenderness. He flopped his hands in his lap and looked over at you expectantly. “Maybe it’s dumb to even talk about this; like you said, it might be nothing. But I just—I mean if—do you really want that? What would that even look like? Not even with me or whatever obviously but leaving hunting, leaving Sam—”

           “Leaving Sam? Who said anything about leaving Sam?”

           “You volunteering him as nanny?”

           Dean sort of half-rolled his eyes and shifted to face you. “You know as well as I do that Sam doesn’t want to be doing this, not forever. I’m not saying we should be fucking trying, obviously, I’m just—I’m going to stick around no matter what happens. I wouldn’t ditch you with my mistake.”

           You scoffed. “How noble.”

           “Not like that. But I’m not a complete moron, I know we’ve played with fire a couple times and I know what I’m doing.”

           “I guess I just figured that was heat of the moment stuff.”

           A flash of something passed over his face, gone almost too fast for you to decipher. Offense? Sadness? “Yeah, part of it. But you—you’ve never even thought about it?”

           “Thought about how I’d get a couple hundred dollars and find a clinic, yeah. I—we can’t be hunters with a baby. And I won’t be stashed in some safe house somewhere, see you and Sam for a day or two every couple months, be the loner single mom who can’t tell anyone anything about her life.”

           “Single mom? I’m not a fucking deadbeat. I just said I wouldn’t make you deal alone.”

           You shot him an exasperated look and took a deliberate breath to keep from rising to the bait. “So what, now you want to get married? Dean, I’m not even really your damn girlfriend.”

           He reached for the handle fast enough that you had to scramble across the seat after him, Dean pausing in the open door. “Look, if it’s not what you want, that’s fucking fine. But don’t patronize me. Not my fucking girlfriend? Fuck you.”

           You flew across the Impala and out of the passenger door, following Dean as he stormed across the asphalt. “Fuck me? How are you mad at me?”

           He spun on his heel in the parking lot. “I tell you I’m willing to leave all of this—all of everything I really know, fucked up as that is—for you, would make you my whole future and you, you—your response is that you’re not even my girlfriend? Yeah, fuck you.”

           “Dean, that’s not what I—” but he had already started storming back to the room. “DEAN!” you yelled, standing stock still in the middle of the lot. He paused with his back to you for what felt like a long second before turning back around. “I don’t want to bring this back to Sam. I’m sorry, okay? I’m just—I’m scared shitless about something that might not even happen and then you spring the idea of some shotgun wedding on me—”

           He rolled his eyes without even a hair of humor, the muscles in his jaw tensing hard enough to catch the cold overhead light. “See, how can you—” he started, before taking a deep, deliberate breath and starting over in a tone that was forced calm. “That’s everything I ha—that’s all I can give you, is loving you and fucking being there for you. So if it’s that fucking cheap or skanky to you then I’m sorry for wasting your fucking time.” When you didn’t respond his spine straightened a few degrees. “What? Say something. Tell me how stupid I am for suggesting that being tied together might not ruin your fucking life.”

           You felt that your mouth had fallen open but didn’t care. “You love me?”

           Dean’s face contorted like he was looking at a mirage of something bizarre, curious and disbelieving and frustrated. “I lo—of course I love you, what the fuck?”

           “Y—you’ve never said that to me.”

           “What? Yes I have.” His voice softened a shade, the certainty his anger had afforded him beginning to slip away like sand at high tide, but his eyebrows stayed indignant.

           You’d never been more certain of anything in your life, that Dean had never said that, because it was something you wanted constantly. Craved, even. Were kept awake at night by; the desire to have your feelings for Dean reciprocated too intense even to dream about. So you justified and bargained with yourself: if fooling around and this kind of casual commitment—girl who would cover him and Sam in a firefight and didn’t hound him for a label—was what he wanted, it was what you would give. Anything for more time with him or the chance to kiss those lips, to see the way he looked first thing in the morning, to get annoyed at his bullshit idiosyncrasies.            

           “No, you haven’t.” So many more words tried to burst forward from you that you had to bite your lip to be sure your mouth stayed closed.

           Dean held your eyes, willing you to say something until he lost his patience. “Who says that stupid shit all the time anyway? You know I love you; I’d do fucking anything for you.” His voice had started to rise again but the heat behind it was some sort of hungry desperation, not hurt rage. “I’m—you don’t think I love you?”

           You started to feel completely exposed by the industrial light, seared alive by green eyes. Shifting your weight from foot to foot didn’t help, and you fought angrily against the lump forming in your throat.

           He looked over his shoulder and the barked “FUCK!” startled you despite yourself. “Kid, I—FUCK, that’s what this is? I loved you since that first fucking hunt in Cleveland! You really think I’m just…? This isn’t some Beaver Cleaver ‘I put you in a family way’ bullshit, I—I don’t know, I just, with you it feels like for the first time maybe it’s not insane to think that I could—that we could—whatever, man, I’m not fucking talking about this.” A hand shot up to rub the back of his neck, a nervous tic you recognized immediately.

           You took two big steps toward him. “Dean, I just—I didn’t know. That’s—I mean I’m not going to say I’ve been thinking about it; but it—it’s more because I didn’t even think it was on the table, you know? I thought we were, I don’t know, really close friends that sleep together.”

           Dean’s eyebrows flew up his forehead and he blew an almost-laugh out of his nose. “I don’t even know what to say to that. Never heard of any friends that live together and fuck raw.” His tongue slid along his molars and he sucked his teeth looking down at the ground, flicker of a despondent, self-deprecating smile twitching his lips. “Uh, noted, I guess. Sorry I misunderstoo—” and his eyes on the blacktop prevented him from seeing you cross the few strides between you, catching him off guard when you kissed him hard enough to bruise, hard enough to feel everything you wanted to say, wanted to scream (at him, from the rooftops, ohmygodhelovesme) take a backseat for a moment. He grunted at the impact, stunned for a half-beat before surging forward into you, wrapping into your hair and pawing at your hips with desperate effort to get closer. Feeling the grin against your mouth, you wished you weren’t standing in the absolute middle of the parking lot, frenzy to have something to push each other against building to a fever pitch inside you when Dean tugged your hair back to look at your face.

           He looked downright pornographic; swollen, flushed pout and impossible lashes framing bedroom eyes Marilyn or Sophia would’ve envied. A washing of cockiness only amplified the effect, those pillowy lips pulling into a lazy smirk. “So is this a really-close-friends kiss or what? Trying to figure out how much tongue I’m supposed to slip you.”

           You giggled good-naturedly, letting the weight of your head press into his palm. “You are such an asshole.”

           “Yeah, you fuckin’ love it.” He sucked on that sweet pulse spot under your ear deeply, some accessory movement with his tongue enough to make you see stars and miss that it was you letting out that ungraceful whine-moan. When Dean spoke the air passing over your spit-slick neck exploded in goosebumps. “And I love you.”

           Dean kissed you in that searching, delicious, eat-you-alive way he sometimes did after a particularly victorious hunt when he either had all the time in the world or didn’t give a fuck about making it; soothing-probing with a little edge of danger that hypnotized you. It pulled at the sweater of your being and tugged, steady and cloying until you were something loose and ephemerous in Dean’s hands, something equally likely to float away or explode right there in that parking lot, clearing a hundred miles in every direction and leaving behind only the imprint of your craving for him. It’s a miracle your brain was able to function at all. In the best circumstances this flayed you open and coming on the heels of having the most beautiful gift you could imagine dropped at your feet—Dean loves you, he loves you and always has—it felt like it could stop your heart and you wouldn’t care.

           “I need about twenty minutes in a cold shower or I promise I’ll knock you up right the fuck here,” Dean growled, low with sin directly into your ear.

           You laughed breathily. “I thought you said that might be a good thing.”

           His chuckle was rough as he pressed his lips to the crown of your head. He rested there for a moment before murmuring into your hair. “You really thought we were just messing around?”

           “Dean, come on, I—don’t make me say it.”

           “Say what?”

           You swallowed shakily, tried to get a handle on your thoughts through the endorphins. “You—I—I’ve had it bad for you, thought if I really like, acknowledged it that it might fuck up what I did get to have of you or that some commitment would freak you out or whatever so I just—I don’t know, tried to be cool about it. Obviously we’ve always been kind of ‘don’t ask don’t tell’ when we were apart—”

           Dean cut off your rambling. “Uh, has there been something you’ve been ‘don’t tell’-ing? I wasn’t ‘don’t ask don’t tell’-ing.”

           “You haven’t?” you asked, surprised enough to be knocked off your nebulous trail of thought.

           “No, I mean—no. You would’ve been fine with that?” The disbelief was so clear on his face it was practically casting a glow around him.

           “Not fine with it—of course not—the thought of it kept me up nights, but I didn’t you to think I was some jealous freak.”

           A smile spread over his face slowly, butter on hot toast. “So you would’ve been jealous?”

           “I was jealous, I thought that’s what was happening.”

           Dean’s head lolled back on his neck a few degrees, smirk cementing itself in place. “That’s kinda hot.”

           It took the tension out of the moment and you chuckled under your breath, glancing down at your feet. “Yeah, you would say that right now, psycho.” It was breathy and shaky but Dean let you have it, throwing his elbow around your neck affectionately and tucking you into his side. With a kiss to the crown of your head, he started you both walking to the room lazily. At the door, you stilled him as he reached for the knob.

           “Would you really want to keep it? Like, no bullshit, if that’s the situation, that I’m actually—you know, you wouldn’t want me to…?”

           He licked his lips and bit the bottom one. They parted for a moment before he began to speak as his gaze flicked between your eyes. “Babe,” he finally breathed, and there was a note of croak there. “I’m in this for the long haul. If that’s where we’re going then we’ll deal with it. If you don’t—if you’re not there, I get it, but for me, I—yeah. If it’s going to be anyone for me, it’s you.”

           “Even now?”

           “I could think of worse things. Worse things have happened to me this week, probably.”

           There were so many follow up questions running through your mind, so many rock-solid certainties that Dean wouldn’t really be able to quit hunting, that even figuring out how to go to an OB-gyn on fake IDs was likely to be more complicated than either of you realized, but his lack of hesitation was so sweet, so earnest, and you were still riding that he loves me high. And you might’ve gotten lucky; it might be nothing, no parking lot baby to contend with, just a tense reminder to be more careful next time. It was easier than you might’ve thought to give yourself permission to relish it for the night, consequences be damned.  

-

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[angryschnauzer]

Jingle My Bells

Summary: Continuing my AU Rugby Teacher theme that was so brilliantly plot bunny’d by @feelmyroarrrr​, Henry finds himself bored at home having been put onto quarantine due to cases at the school he teaches at. With his school shutting early for the holidays, when his wife needs help at her school, she calls in his assistance for some festive fun... with some after hours fun for themselves too.

Pairing: AU Rugby Teacher Henry Cavill x Teacher Wife

Warnings: Bad Puns, NSFW, 18+, Established Relationship, Public/Risky Sex Workplace Sex, Henry dressed as Santa Claus (yes thats a warning in itself).

Gif by @littlefreya​ and used with her kind permission.

Previous Rugby Teacher Henry Ficlet.

Masterlist on AO3, and old fics can be found at @angryschnauzerwrites​. I don’t run a tag list.

Jingle My Bells

Henry was bored. Two weeks of quarantine after another faculty member had tested positive had meant he'd been confined to the house 24/7. Just as his test results had come back negative and his return to work for the last week of term had been scheduled, the high school had been notified that two students had come in contact with confirmed cases, so to cut their losses the board of governors had simply implemented end of term a week early.

And sure, Henry had done what he could to help keep himself busy; online gaming, World of Warcraft, hell; he'd even helped you mark homework for your primary school class. He cooked dinner for you so it was ready the moment you arrived home, and the house was the cleanest it'd ever been, but without you home with him he was just… bored.

"Just one more day, then its the end of term" you'd reassured him as you'd kissed him goodbye that morning, and he'd pulled you into his arms;

"Will you wear the elf outfit home tonight?"

"Oh, does someone have an elf kink?" You'd grinned and raised an eyebrow.

Henry lifted his hand to the little bells that were attached to your green knit dress;

"I kinda want to find out how i can make these jingle… i have some ideas…"

"Well you can fill my stockings after work, but i've got to go or i'll be late…" you pressed a kiss to his cheek; "Got to set up the area for Santa" 

With a groan your husband released you;

"Fine, but i want you to sit on my lap later"

-

Henry was standing at the fridge contemplating whether eating Babybell cheeses wrapped in Parma ham sandwiched between two slices of toast counted as lunch when his phone rang. Seeing your school's number on the display he was half curious and half worried, but visibly relaxed when he heard your voice;

"Hennn…." You purred

"Oh god… you only use that voice when you want something i won't like…"

"Are you free this afternoon?"

He sighed over dramatically;

"What do you need?"

"We need a Santa. The guy we booked was someone's grandad but he's been on the sherry and we had to send him home because he was slurring his speech and referred to the kids as 'crotch gobins'"

Henry let out a snort of laughter;

"I've met your class… some of them are…"

"Nevertheless… could you stand in? We've got the suit, and you've been quarantining for 3 weeks so are safe… pleeease…"

"Hmmmmnn"

"Hennn, please… i've got a thirty kids that still believe…"

Henry sighed;

"Okay… i'll be there in ten minutes"

“You’ll need to walk…there’s no space left in the staff car park”

He sighed;

“Okay, make it thirty minutes”

-

If there was an award for best/worst performance as Santa, Henry would have got it hands down. Putting on his best pantomime Brian Blessed voice, he'd Ho Ho Ho'd his way through the three youngest classes of wide eyed Little Ones that had thoroughly loved meeting Santa. When it had come to the older kids in the Junior years, generally 8 years old and above, he'd taken a different tactic, instead filing them out to the playground and if they could score a hoop through the Netball net, he'd deem them nice rather than naughty.

By the time hometime rolled around every single child had a smile on their face, excitedly rushing out to their parents waiting at the gate, pointing out Santa to their younger siblings sat in Pushchairs and Prams.

When you’d finally waved everyone off you made your way back to your classroom, the security door alert sounding as you entered the corridor, the hallways quiet where your colleagues had already packed up their stuff and left for the day. Henry trailed behind you, chattering away about what the kids had told him, shedding himself of the fake Santa beard and the scratchy jacket, leaving him wearing the hat, his plain black t-shirt, and the Santa trousers and boots. He flopped down into your chair as you busied yourself around the classroom, his feet up on your desk. 

Moving around him you stacked papers ready to be archived when he wrapped his hands around your waist and pulled you onto his lap;

“Come and sit on Santa’s knee”

Abandoning the papers you laughed as you settled on your husband's lap, turning to kiss him and the little bells on your dress jingled as you moved. The kiss went from chaste to needy in a matter of seconds, and you could feel Henry harden beneath your ass as you wriggled on his lap. His hand groped at your breasts through your dress as his lips started a trail along your chin and down your neck;

“Have you been naughty or nice this year?”

You wriggled on your lap;

“Oh I've been Naughty…”

Suddenly you were spinning as Henry fluidly moved to his feet, pushing you over your desk and stood behind you;

“Well i guess i’d better do something about that then” he pulled your dress up with a jingle of the bells attached and smoothed his hands over your ass, the green and white stripes of your tights framing your buttocks. With strong fingers he grasped the thin fabric and tugged, ripping a hole in them and letting out an appreciative grunt when he found you wearing a lace thong;

“You’ve been parading around in that little dress with this poor excuse for underwear beneath all day? You really have been a naughty girl” he purred in your ear as his fingers tugged the elastic aside.

You tried to move away, painfully aware of your location;

“Hen! We’re at school!”

“Shhh… the door alarm to the hallway will sound if anyone comes… so how about i make you cum before that happens, eh?”

His fingers had found your clit as he’d pushed his thumb into your velvet channel, and any further arguments were lost on your tongue as you sighed in pleasure;

“Hen, make it quick… the cleaners will be doing their rounds soon”

Looking over your shoulder you watched as Henry quickly shoved the Santa trousers and boxers down, his thick and meaty dick springing free where he was already rock hard and dripping with need;

“I’m gonna jingle your bells darling…” he positioned himself and quickly thrust in, making you gasp at the sudden stretch of it; “Gonna fill your stockings…”

“Tights” you corrected

“Same fucking thing” he grunted as he started to pound into you, the rhythmic thud of his efforts topped off with the delicate jingling of the bells on your dress. His hands moved and grabbed at your breasts, his breath hot and heavy against your ear as he filled you hard and fast from behind; “Want me to come down your chimney tonight?”

Grinning you turned your head;

“How about we save that for when we’re at home…?”

Henry paused, his eyes going wide when he realised you were agreeing to the one thing in your sex life you hadn’t tried yet, even after being married for a number of years and him dropping numerous hints;

“Really?”

“Well, i know you didn’t put it on your Christmas list but if a elf is gonna be naughty she might as well be naughty all the way…” you winked at him; “But you gotta hurry up now…”

With a grunt of determination he started to pound into you, one hand moving down your stomach and pushing between your legs, rubbing at your clit as he did his best to quickly bring you both to orgasm. Your moans started to get louder, and he clamped his other hand over your mouth as he started to feel you cuming, your body shaking and the loud thuds of his thrusts filling the room as your desk squeaked on the linoleum floor. With a grunt he thrust in deep and at the height of your orgasm you felt him flooding your womb with rope of his creamy seed, his massive hands pulling you to his chest as he buried his face in your neck whilst your cunt milked the last of his cum from his body. 

Breathless and glowing, you rested your head on Henry’s shoulder, your chest heaving before he carefully pulled out of you, pulling your underwear back into place as he tucked himself back into his boxers and Santa trousers. As you shimmied your dress back down you heard the thrumming of the floor polisher along the corridor, your eyes going wide before Henry turned you and rested his hands on your shoulders;

“C’mon, lets get home”

Taking a deep breath you smiled;

“Help be grab the last few bits then we can go”

Five minutes later you were stepping out of your classroom, Henry holding the large box of things you wanted to bring home for the holidays including your peace lily, pulling the door shut when you heard footsteps, turning to see the after hours cleaner;

“Night Mr Howell, have a good Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas Mrs Cavill…” he paused when he saw Henry standing next to you

“This is my Husband, he stood in as Santa today”

The old man nodded and smiled, carrying on with his mop as you walked in the opposite direction. Just as you got the security door you heard him starting to whistle, your eyes shooting up to meet Henry’s as you heard the tune;

‘Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle all the way…’

Henry wrapped his free arm around your shoulders;

“C’mon my naughtly little Elf, i’ll drive you home” he grinned at you; “Then we can see about that chimney of yours…”

You clenched at the thought, your body already tingling at the thought of it. And hey, if you were going to let your husband finally fuck your ass, at least you had the entire school holidays to recover.

[themaribatpit]

Jasonette July Day 9: Pixie

Written by: The Maribat Pit  @jasonette-july-event

Prompt: Pixie

Rated: T

(By popular demand, a slight continuation of Game On @aespades, @certainmuffinbagelcalzone.)

A/n: Edits have been made because I noticed the paragraph errors AFTER posting this.

Marinette was really starting to miss the days of working with Chat Noir at that moment, and that was saying something.  “Bugaboo” and “My Lady” were starting to feel more tolerable when she wasn’t being called that every second of the day.  Being called “Pixie” regardless if she was Ladybug or Marinette, was really starting to get old, fast.  For reasons that she could not understand, that’s what Jason insisted on calling her.  Sure, she was a lot smaller compared to him, but that coupled with needing to hang back and let Red Hood and Arsenal deal out the heavier hits was starting to get on her nerves.  She was just as experienced as them, she had a mentor just like they did, and had been saving lives for just as long as they had.  Ever since she had joined them, she thought that she would be fighting alongside a team again.  Now she was either supporting them or using her sewing skills to add improvements to their suits.  She was in good hands, some might say hands that were a little too good.  All this frustrated her to no end because she liked Jason, she would have thought that someone who had been a vigilante from a young age would understand what it felt like to be constantly underestimated. 

“Unbelievable,” she snapped one night as she came home from another mission.  She pulled off her pink flats and threw them across the room as she entered her apartment.  She didn’t even get the chance to use her Miraculous, she was effectively closely guarded bait on that last mission.  She slumped on the bed in frustration and Tikki hovered over to her, her antenna drooping in concern.  “Some days I want to wipe that smile off of that stupid face, just to prove I can.” Marinette grumbled into her pillow.  She didn’t hate Jason, she knew that there was some good in him.  Roy was the more optimistic and cheerful of the duo, like Jason, he had also been mentored by a more experienced hero.  Jason was a lot more reserved and cynical by comparison, though he wasn’t a complete Ice Prince like his brother Damian. 

“Maybe it’s because they’ve been doing this for a little bit longer.” Tikki suggested, after Marinette complained about it for the umpteenth time.

“Batgirl and Black Bat are only a few years younger than me,” she reminded her, “and there’s no doubt that they could hold their own in a fight.  No one gives them stupid nicknames, just shortened versions of their real names out of costume.” Tikki awkwardly scratched the back of her head.  “I bet you that he barely remembers what my real name is.” Marinette was getting increasingly furious at the thought “it’s always ‘Pixie this’ and ‘Pixie that’. I know I’m shorter than him, but I have taken on giant robot dolls, literal monsters, and I once rode a dragon!” Marinette yelled. 

Marinette throws a pillow at Tikki, only for it to phase through her. “What does he think I do as Ladybug? Create Christmas presents with my Lucky Charm?!” 

 At this very unfortunate moment Jason happened to return back to their apartment with Roy in tow. “What’s got you riled up, Pixie Pop?” Jason quipped after seeing the frustrated look on her face. This was the last straw for Marinette, “Stop calling me that! Does it please you to demean me? Does it bring you joy to fucking bully me day in and day out?” Jason and Roy take a step back from Marinette’s outburst. Marinette continues “I have kept Paris safe ever since I was 13, I didn’t have the World's Greatest Detective or a Robin Hood cosplayer helping me. It’s always you two off saving the day while I’m the distraction. Do I have to remind you that I’ve beaten Robin and Red Robin?” 

 “So have we, right Roy?” Jason says look backwards to Roy. Roy meanwhile was slowly walking backwards with his arms up in surrender.

 “Don’t drag me into this please.” Roy pleaded. 

 Marinette continued her rant, “So why do you keep calling me Pixie Pop like I'm some pet or stuffed animal?” She storms up to Jason and pulls him down to her height by the collar. 

Roy sensed the tension and wanted absolutely no part in making it worse, “You know what? I’m gonna go get us some shawarma.”

Jason looked over at Roy “Really, Roy?” A slight scowl made it clear he knew Roy was essentially leaving him to face Marinette’s wrath.

“All I know is that they are open at four in the morning and I’m hungry, so I’ll be right back.” Roy said, and he left the room.  Just as he thought Roy was out of earshot, Jason heard sprinting down the hallway.  Roy had abandoned him to face the burning blue fire in Marinette’s eyes.

Marinette let go of him, she didn’t need them, she had made that absolutely clear. 

“I’m done,  I don’t expect you to understand what it’s like to be underestimated all of the time.” she muttered harshly, “to always be kept at arm's length, because no one trusts you to do anything right.”

Marinette had no idea just how deep her words cut him, and Jason couldn’t really blame her.  As far as she knew, compared to his brothers, he might as well just be ‘the one with the guns and leather jackets’.  He hadn’t really told her about what had happened all those years ago, he didn’t even like to think about it himself.  Roy was one of the few people who understood what he’d been through. It was true that both of them started out as sidekicks, maybe the red in their costumes helped them stand out from their mentor’s shadows.  Their time as young crime fighters had left their scars. They were blindsided when they found someone who had been a heroine since she was 13, and took to it with the same determination they had when they were younger, more innocent, more naïve. 

 As Marinette flitted around the room, gathering her things, every nerve in Jason’s body was screaming at him to stop her.   He reached out and grabbed her by the arm, trying not to think about just how small it felt around his hand.  “Look, I’m sorry,” he began. What could he say to her? That he knew exactly what that felt like? That the last thing they wanted was for her to end up like them?  That every hit they took in a fight was one that she wouldn’t have to, so that she wouldn’t turn out broken like they were?  The problem was she didn’t see them as broken, she saw them treating her like glass.  If she was put through the same ordeal, Jason had no idea what he would do.  If she shattered just like they did, then in a way, they would have failed her.  If she came out still whole, still brimming with light, then what did that say about them?

 Marinette pulled her arm away, “I’ll show you, then you’ll be sorry” she told him bitterly.  With her backpack in hand and shoes on her feet, she pushed past him and walked out the door.  

 Jason remains staring at the open door, regretting how he had treated her. He grew fond of her during their time together as ‘Red Arse Bug’.  She had a cute face, cute voice and she wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty. “Stupid, stupid” he says to himself, facepalm at each syllable. Even with the now hostile relationship with Marinette, he knew he had to follow her. He had to stop her from making the same mistakes he did, so that she would not become like him. He put on his helmet and left to search for clues as to where Marinette would go and what she would do.

 Marinette wandered through Gotham city, unsure what to do now that she stormed out of the apartment she shared with Jason and Roy. She felt like everyone belittled her, Selena did, and now so did Jason. She needed to do something eye-catching, to prove to everyone that she didn’t need their help.

As she wanders past the Iceberg Lounge, she gets a spark of inspiration. If she could take down the Penguin single-handedly, nobody in Gotham would doubt her ever again. With unyielding determination she calls out “Spots On” and turns to Ladybug, ready to take on one of the cruelest crime lords in all of Gotham. Ladybug walks up to the front door and kicks it down, sending the door flying and knocking any unfortunate goons behind it. Penguin’s gang whipped out their guns, tire irons, pipes and anything that could count as a weapon and were now charging in to stop the intruder. 

 Marinette swings her yo-yo to wrap around one of the goon’s ankles, before swinging him around crashing him into several others. A guard points his rifle behind Ladybug, she spins around, sending her yo-yo towards the gun and pulling it from his hands. As the guards begin to group up together in an attempt to minimise the effectiveness of her yo-yo, Marinette looks up and begins to smirk. She flings her yo-yo upwards and hooks it onto a chandelier. She yanks it down, sending the chandelier crashing onto the unsuspecting guards. 

 Marinette dusts her hands and proceeds to walk through into the main hall. She proceeds to kick down that door too, she is then greeted by The Penguin surrounded by his gang. “I’m taking you down Cobblepot.” She shouts, swinging her yo-yo as if it was a lasso, preparing for a fight.

 The Penguin stands up from the seat of his large chair. “What are all you idiots waiting for?” He shouts all around him. He points his umbrella at Ladybug, and begins shooting his umbrella gun. “Get her!” The penguin roars, at this cue every gangster charges at Ladybug. 

 Marinette gracefully dodges and weaves around Penguin’s army, knocking each one out one by one. Until only The Penguin remains, she wraps her yo-yo around his umbrella, easily disarming one of Gotham’s most wanted. She walks towards The Penguin, slowly unravelling her yo-yo in anticipation of tying him up and sending him to Arkham Asylum. 

 The Penguin takes out a little remote control from his suit pocket, “It's not over yet.” he snarls and pushes a button. At that moment the entire building shakes.

“Born on a Monday” a voice groaned, followed by another loud thud. “Christened on a Tuesday.” the same voice groaned. Then a giant hand shoots up from beneath the floor, “SOLOMON GRUNDY” roared the giant as it emerged from the floor. 

 Red Hood and Arsenal had been watching the fight from a careful distance outside the Iceberg Lounge.  “Well, she’s managed to take on Penguins goons just fine,” Arsenal observed through the small pair of binoculars,  “she’s certainly had plenty of time to get very creative with that yo-yo”.

Red Hood’s hand was still itching to reach for one of his pistols, ready to jump in at the first sign of trouble. “By the way, how was your shawarma?” he asked sarcastically.

Arsenal looked over at him, raising an eyebrow “Hey, I’m not the one who said the one thing that just made her angrier, you were on your own there.”

“Nice to know you had my back.” he grumbled.

“Oh I do in a fight, you just decided to be an ass and poke the angry girl with a stick.” Arsenal pointed out.

Their banter was interrupted by an earth shattering thud, following a loud groan “Born on a Monday.” At that moment their blood ran cold. Red Hood and Arsenal rushed towards the Iceberg Lounge. Both worried for Ladybug and aware of what comes after that dreadful nursery rhyme. 

 “What are you two doing here? I can handle this.” growled Ladybug as Red Hood and Arsenal arrived. 

 Before either Red Hood or Arsenal could answer, they were interrupted by Solomon Grundy smashing the ground where Ladybug was standing. Ladybug gracefully dodged the punch, grappling onto a ceiling lamp to swing towards Grundy with a kick. 

 The giant grabbed Ladybug while she was mid-air and threw her towards her partners. Red Hood catches her, holding her tightly as the two fly across the room. He shields her from the shock, taking the brunt of the impact as they crash into the wall. 

 Red Hood groans “You okay?” Ladybug looks up to see she was relatively unharmed, but Red Hood had taken the brunt of the throw. Concern visible on her face as she sees Red Hood’s damaged helmet, and the bruised and bloodied face beneath.  

 Their quiet moment together was interrupted by Arsenal's cries for help. Every arrow he had in his quiver wasn’t making a dent in Solomon Grundy. Ladybug decides to cast Lucky Charm in desperation, and swings her yo-yo up. The ladybugs converge to form...a polka-dotted stick of dynamite. 

 “Arsenal!” She called. “Tie this to the end of an arrow, Red Hood and I will keep it busy.” She tosses the dynamite to Arsenal and tells Red Hood to tie Grundy down.

 Ladybug using her yo-yo grabs on to Solomon Grundy’s left arm while Red Hood uses his grappling hook to hold on to his right arm. Leaving Grundy exposed and immobile, giving Arsenal the opportunity for a clear unobstructed target. 

 Arsenal draws and aims the special Lucky Charm Explosive Arrow. The giant zombie growls “Arrow Boy no hurt Grundy.” 

 “Arrow Boy yes hurt Grundy” quipped Arsenal, before releasing the arrow causing a thunderous explosion into Solomon Grundy’s face. The giant slumps, Ladybug and Red Hood quickly release their hold and watch its body fall back into the hole in which it came from. 

 Solomon Grundy’s body lays motionless in the basement of the Iceberg Lounge as the three peer over the hole in the ground, “Let’s get outta here before the GCPD or worse, Batman arrive” Red Hood points to the front door, and the three of them leave the lounge to head back to their apartment.

As the three arrive home, they each find a nice comfortable spot to collapse onto. Jason claimed the sofa, slumped down Roy in the middle of the living room floor and Marinette sat at the dining table. “I vote for a week off.” groaned Roy.

“I second that motion” agreed Jason. 

“I still have design work to do.” Marinette told them, not really looking at either of them at that moment.  She was torn between appreciating their help, and frustrated that she hadn’t been able to handle the situation herself like she thought.

“Still that was one hell of a fight, and hey, you still managed to take on a squad of goons by yourself.”  Roy said, “I’m so proud” he said dramatically pretending to wipe away a happy tear. 

He nudged Jason in the leg, “um, yeah, good work” he said awkwardly, slightly lost in thought. Marinette smiled slightly, before turning her attention back to her little fairy friend perched on the table. 

“So does this mean Red Arse Bug is back together?” Roy asked enthusiastically, Marinette wasn’t really paying attention. 

The name still needed work, for one thing.  For once Marinette felt like her powers were being used in harmony with their abilities, but she wasn’t sure if it was a feeling that she should get used to.  Marinette could still vividly remember seeing Jason’s bruised and bloodied face beneath his helmet.  Jason stood up and walked over to the fridge, looking for ice to dull the swelling on his face.

“Not with that name,” Jason grumbled, not entirely sure if Marinette was willing to stay after their argument.  Someday, somehow, he would tell her the full story of what happened to him.  Right now, that was a whole Pandora’s Box that he just wasn’t prepared to open.  Nestled at the bottom of that box was hope, a hope that no one else would meet that same fate.

“...Lucky Shot?”  Marinette suggested as she carried Tikki over to the sofa and sat down.  Both Jason and Roy looked up, it made some sense, seeing as they both used projectiles and she had her lucky charms.  Jason tentatively made his way back to the sofa, ice pack in hand.

“Sounds better than ‘Red Arse Bug’.” Jason remarked, as he sat back down. 

“Well, let’s see if our little adventure made the news” Roy said, as he reached for the TV remote.  Jason tuned out Vicki Vale’s voice as she reported on the fight that took place at the Iceberg Lounge. 

As Roy slept at their feet, Jason knew if they were going to continue working together as a team, they couldn’t keep her in the dark any longer.  

“Hey Marinette.” Jason speaks softly. Marinette's ears perk in surprise, hearing speak her name for the first time. “I’m sorry, for what I said and how we treated you. You’re right.” He gestures to the sleeping Roy on the floor, “Both of us started out as sidekicks, we both grew up in the shadows of Batman and Green Arrow. Both old men with impossibly high standards, everything we did was never enough.”   Marinette listened intently as she shuffled closer to him on the sofa.  “We’ve both been to hell and back, Marinette. Literally in my case.” he explained, Marinette glanced down at Tikki for a moment, as if silently asking if her magic was somehow involved in this.  “But always remember, we have each other’s backs, just like The Three Musketeers.” Jason told her, Marinette giggles at his literary reference.

“Roy’s Porthos, you’re Aramis, I guess that makes me D’Artagnan.” Marinette chimes. Jason loved to see that hopeful smile on her face.  What scared him the most was the idea that something or someone would try and take that away from her.  They couldn’t keep treating her like glass, and they couldn’t keep treating her like a sidekick if they wanted to keep her from making their mistakes.  They were all going to fight like hell to make sure this world didn’t break her the way it broke them.  Marinette leaned in close and rested her head on his shoulder.  He felt her calm even breathing, fanning his neck as she slept peacefully at his side.

[serowotonin]

LiPS𝐓1CK St4𝐈NS ! (💋)

❝ having lipstick and giving him a kiss and he doesn't realize he has it on his face until his teammates are all like 0-0 ❞ — @/luna-in-luv

++ fem!reader x oikawa, kuroo

| wc. 1.3k 

| note. djslsdf it took so long to edit this post T-T,,,,, when ur indecisive af and can’t decide on a post format :D anyways just wanna say reblogs are greatly appreciated and i hope u guys like this<3

( ➷ ); ― OiK4WA

another day of school, another day of.. well, another day of boredom

you had to admit though, school had become a lot more fun since you and oikawa got together;)

altho you were in different classes, you’d still pass each other in hallways and see each other during breaks

and ofc every interaction, no matter how small, definitely made your day brighter

the smaller interactions consisted mainly of random head pats as he walks pass by, or a smirk and a wink whenever you two make eye contact 

when there weren’t as many people around,,, maybe a hug or a kiss if either of you felt like it

and very rarely.. 

a makeout session in an empty classroom or staircase

its rare but it does happen

and it was happening… right now

school ended about half an hour ago and everyone either left or went to do their club activities 

which was what oikawa should probably be doing too,, but today he just “felt like going in a little later”

and so there you two were, in the dark corner of an abandoned classroom grasping at the other as if you haven’t seen them in years

idk how to describe a steamy makeout sesh okkk

anyways,, after about 6 ignored calls from iwaizumi tho.. you two figured it was probably time for him to go to practice

you two straightened yourselves out; cleared the ruffles from your uniforms, tidied your hair, etc.

oikawa texted iwa that he was on his way while you touched up your makeup

“you gonna walk me to practice?”

“of course,” you smiled. “altho i have my own club activities today too so i can’t stay and watch :( ”

“dont worry babe,,, just walking me there is enough” he replied with a grin

then he slung an arm over your shoulder and the two of you walked out of the classroom as if nothing happened

as you neared the entrance of the gym, you slowed to a stop and tugged at oikawa’s shirt

he turned and you leaned to give him a kiss on the cheek

“good luck with practice” you said before giving him a small wave and walking off

did you see the dark mark your lipstick left on his cheek?

yes.

were you going to say anything about it?

well,,,, you already turned to walk away and oikawa was already entering the gym

so no.

anyways,, as oikawa entered the gym, the first thing he saw was his beloved iwa-chan

looking not very happy

oikawa waved sheepishly as he turned his head to the side to look at where everyone else was

this for some reason made iwaizumi look even more not happy

makki and mattsun then walked over and snickered upon seeing oikawa

“ah was y/n here? why didn’t you invite her to watch hmm?~” makki teased

“she’s got club activities too you know..”

smh

they probably realize oikawa doesnt know bout the kiss mark

the three of them were just staring at oikawa like (￢_￢;)

and oikawa's just standing there like (◕‿◕)?

“can we go practice now..?” 

iwa: (￣︿￣) “wipe that stupid mark off your cheek”

huh? mark? he was pretty sure he wiped off any evidence from ahem what was happening earlier…

at this point some of the younger members started staring at them

and oikawa spotted them out of the corner of his eye and could practically feel the awkwardness in their gazes

he put a hand on the cheek everyone was staring at and removed it to see the same color that painted your lips

oh...

a slow smile spread on his lips at the realization of what you did

he laughed to himself

‘she’s gonna be the death of me..’

and with that he wiped off the remnants of your lipstick and hurried over to start practice

later tho, he asks you to kiss him again wearing that lipstick

and you do

and he snaps a selfie,,, which is now his phone wallpaper ;3

( ❣︎ ); ― KUR0O

today, you’re boyfriend, the one and only Kuroo Tetsurou, had a volleyball match

and ofc being the amazing, supportive gf you were, you were present in the stands, cheering him on

you didn’t get to meet or even talk to him before the match started, save for a few quick texts 

so when he came on to the court for warm up and spotted you in the crowd,,,

he gave a cheeky wink and wave

you could practically feel the confidence roll off him in waves but you knew, deep down, he was the tiniest bit nervous too

afterall, the opponents weren’t a weak team by any standard

they were strong and known for their relentless attacks

which were put to display almost immediately after the game started

nekoma held on though, and managed to put in a few attacks of their own to level the game

you could see the hard work behind each of the members’ skills, having witnessed a lot of it yourself

it was most clear in kuroo tho

and as he jumped to block another spike, you were on the edge of your seat

the boys just needed one more point… which came when kuroo shut down the last spike

you and the rest of the people in the stands around you erupted into cheers

and as they were leaving the court, you ran to steal kuroo away for a more personal cheer

the two of you walked the halls of the stadium talking abt the game

you were gushing about this block and that and he was smiling at your gushing cuz damn was his y/n cute 

N E WAYSSS,,, he received a text from kenma saying that they were all waiting for him at the bus

“i should go.. don’t wanna keep them waiting long”

“yeah.. you should”

before he could move tho, you tiptoed and placed a big fat kiss on his cheek

you swear you saw a blush on those cheeks as you backed down

he grinned and gave you a kiss of his own on your forehead before saying bye and running off

as he did, you realized you forgot to mention the lip-shaped mark on his cheek 

oops… its too late now ┐(︶▽︶)┌

anyway,, kuroo arrives all smiles to where the team are waiting 

and make no mistake they all CLEARLY see evidence of ur “little” kiss from back there

they just kinda,,,, don’t say anything at first?

kenma rolled his eyes and went back to doing whatever on his phone

yaku glared at it out of spite or some similar emotion

the others just choose to ignore mainly cuz they assume kuroo already knows and chose to keep it there

to them its just kuroo being a cheesy mf who was rubbing the non-single life in their faces or smth

ofc he has no idea tho

which just makes it all the more better when lev says

“y/n has nice lipstick”

and kuroo’s just like wtf ?? whatcha goin on bout my gf’s lipstick hUH

and he says that.. or something similar at least

and lev just points to his cheek like

“duhh i can see it right there”

he grabs his phone, opens the front facing camera, and is met with the outline of your lips on his cheek

and thats when he obviously started blushing

but then he just kind of smirked once he realized you knew about the mark

when yaku sees the smirk he went “OMFG JUST WIPE IT OFF ALREADY !! WE GET IT !! YOU ARENT SINGLE YOU GET KISSES STFU”

not like that but practically exactly what he was trying to say anyway

tbh kuroo’s a little reluctant to rub it off cuz idk,, he likes it ?? 

but he does anyway cuz they were still in public and there were teachers who were gonna come soon and all the other reasons

once hes comfortably seated in the bus tho, with a clean cheek, he sends u several texts

‘ saw that gift you left on my cheek… ’

‘ wouldn’t mind if u gave me more tmr afterschool ;) ’

| taglist. @lilikags @luna-in-luv ... send an ask if u wanna be added !!~

[dinpascal]

All a Game — Din Djarin

warnings: (18+) language/dirty talk, rough sex (piv), oral (m+f), hair pulling, orgasm denial, (kind of) hate sex (piv)  summary: As a fellow Mandalorian, you find yourself traveling with the bounty hunter and his kid despite the mutual dislike you seem to have for one another. Everything goes well (more or less), until he nearly gets both of you killed. He gets tired of your mouth. 

He was infuriating. 

Originally you had given him the benefit of the doubt, when it came to the (stupid) helmet debacle. If you had lived a certain way for the high majority of your life, your beliefs and sense of self completely and thoroughly twisted a particular way, it was difficult to simply step away from that when presented with something different — something that completely contrasted with what you staked your life on. 

In other, simpler words, the silver Mandalorian’s response to your face was as expected. 

However, as his arrogant and you’re-beneath-me attitude continued, the less patience you could continue to muster. He and his beliefs were superior to you just because he kept an oversized tin can over his head at at times? Don’t think so. 

You were just as much a Mandalorian as him. 

Nevertheless, here you were. Abandoning Bo Katan and the others for him and the little green bean foundling under his care and protection. While you argued it was for his sake, as no Mandalorian should ever stand alone, you knew it was primarily because of Bo Katan herself. While experienced and cunning, you grew tired of their quest you never saw happening — the retaking of Mandalore. It was a child’s dream. One you were no longer interested in entertaining.

Traveling with the nearly-mute Mandalorian held quite the learning curve. Neither of you were too thrilled with the other (considering the stark difference in beliefs), but there was enough respect for one another to quietly exist around one another. He would occupy himself in the cockpit doing whatever he did up there, while you fed the Child and listened to his cooing and babbling, occasionally offering your own opinions on subjects. You doubted his adopted father encouraged conversation much at all, given he wasn’t much of a conversationalist himself.

While the pair slept in their tiny, shared compartment, you were a few feet away in your own that he had (surprisingly) made out of another compartment that had originally been acting as some sort of storage. The little green bean would occasionally sneak out of his hammock and make his way to yours, often snuggling between your arms and snuggling his little body to your chest. 

The three of you fell into a strangely comfortable arrangement, until he agreed to a certain bounty that, apparently, required the both of you. While you were not too keen to the guns-for-hire career he had undertaken, you understood the need to survive and instead stayed behind to watch the little one while he was out. 

“I don’t understand who you could possibly be hunting that you can’t take on your own.” You had begun slipping your armor on, which had previously taken estate in your personal storage; there was no need to wear it when the majority of your time was spent in or near the Razor Crest. You could hear him rustling with something behind you, though you focused on the faded-scarlet color painted on your armor. 

“They want them alive.” He stated simply, as if those four words completely and thoroughly explained the situation. You turned towards him then, eyes already rolling and an annoyed look sent in his general direction. There were only a few things you missed when it came to traveling with Bo Katan and the others — one of, if not the most major, being conversation. 

“What about the little one?”

He glanced in the Child’s direction, currently drawing in his notebook he had been given when your companion had come across it in the shops of Tattooine. “He’ll be fine. No one will be able to come on board.”

You sighed. Of the few things you truly disliked about the Mandalorian, one of them was that he treated the little one as older than he truly was. It didn’t matter that he was soon hitting his 51st birthday. He was mentally as old as a two-year old child. He didn’t truly understand the difference between safety and danger. He was still trying to grasp the whole concept of using the vacc tube.

You must have pulled a face then, as you caught a muffled sigh and one of your blasters being pushed into yours hands. “The sooner we get them, the sooner we can return.” You imagined he held your gaze as you looked at him, his words offering a semblance of comfort and security. “Let’s go.”

With a nod, you tucked your blasters into their respective holsters and kneeled in front of the little one. He immediately softly cooed in greeting, head raising and ears flicking in your direction. He held a red crayon in one hand, seemingly drawing a big, red dust cloud. “Hey, green bean. You stay on the ship, okay? No opening the doors and exploring without us.” He released a sound you knew to be one of disappointment (the same one he made when you said dinner was over), ears and head dropping as if being scolded. 

You smiled and touched his hand, heart fluttering as his three fingers curled around one of your own. “Draw your daddy a pretty picture, okay? We have to fill the entire cockpit.” He squealed at the idea, head dropping and resuming his drawing without another sound.

The sound of the airlock hissing open is what eventually tore you away.

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“Will you shut up?”

Your chest heaved as you forced oxygen into your lungs, currently behind the cover of a large tree and the Mandalorian a few feet away, seemingly doing the same as his chest rapidly rose and fell. You sent him a glare that spilled nothing but poison, wishing more than anything that he could see your face through your visor. “You’re the one who didn’t know the stupid bounty had a crew! It’s one against twenty!” You hissed, doing the utmost to ignore the burning in your shoulder. One had managed to a blaster shot in the tiny space between your armor and knew blood was no doubt staining the inside of it. At the back of your mind, you begrudgingly noted you’d have to paint the pretty armor again, once safe and sound in the ship. It was a painstakingly slow process. 

The Mandalorian apparently didn’t feel that comment deserved a response, as he merely glanced from cover to the enemy before them. Their footsteps were nearing closer, close enough to hear the shouts they shared between one another.

“You’re insufferable!” You stood and dug into your pouch, eventually coming across the tiny discs you had developed yourself and tossing them about the bushes. If anything were on your side in your current predicament, it was the flush greenery the planet held. It didn’t matter your armor’s coloring was a stark contrast, it was cover nonetheless.

Your companion was forced to follow your lead, the sound of his blaster sounding off and quickly followed by screams of pain. As an ugly blue-colored Quarren neared you, you kicked out a foot to knock his knee out from under him. 

It was official. You hated the Mandalorian. 

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“You could have gotten us killed.” He dragged the body of the bounty behind him, knocked out cold and his arms cuffed. The two of you had hardly spoken on the way back to the ship, though there was no shortage of dirty looks (from you) aimed at the back of his helmet. 

Per usual, there was no response from him as the ramp for the ship descended. 

“All for what? A few hundred credits?” Discarding your helmet and tossing it aside, you watched as he froze the bounty in carbonite. It was official — talking to a wall was more entertaining than talking to him. “There are hundreds of different ways to survive! But no, you have to do this bullshit?”

Abruptly and suddenly, as quick as a flash of lightning, he was standing just a breath from you. “If this lifestyle isn’t good enough for you princess,” he spat, “Then, by all means, get the fuck off my ship.”

You stared into his visor for a moment, resisting the urge to take a step back and away from the aura of anger and distaste he was exerting. While you certainly weren’t his biggest fan in the galaxy, you weren’t ignorant. You were more than aware of how capable this man was. Nonetheless, you knew you’d be able to hold your own against him. 

“And leave the kid with you?” You laughed, briefly enjoying the amount of sarcasm it dripped. “He’d be dead in a parsec.”

“I seem to remember how completely fine he was without you.” If you were being completely honest, that one hurt. You’d grown so attached to the little swamp rat and the idea of him being fine without you around made your stomach turn. 

“You’re an asshole.” There was a brief sound of static before he laughed. As if you had told a fucking joke. He leaned even closer then, arm raising to lean his weight against the wall behind you. Briefly, the smell of leather and something untamed filled your every sense. It was intoxicating, you wanted to drown in it until it was seared in your very brain. 

“Yeah?” He questioned, helmet dipped so low you could feel the coolness on your forehead. “Say it again.” He dared, a leather-covered hand inching up until his thumb touched your throat. It was nothing but a touch, but a thousand goosebumps blossomed at the contact alone. 

“You’re an...” The breath whooshed from your lungs as the touch left your throat and down to your hip, spun one-eighty and chest suddenly pressed against the wall of the Razor Crest. A bite of metal stung at your back, his beskar pressing into the divot between your own. He remained painfully silent, though deft fingertips began to explore the crevice between your back armor and the waistband of your pants. “Asshole.”

Before the word was out of your throat and past your lips, the buckle that kept your back and abdomen armor was released and the red armor was left clattering to the floor. Large hands were shoving at your trousers until they were loose at your ankles, unsure of just what was happening until a hand roughly grasped your ass, so tightly you were positive fingerprint marks were left behind. 

His touch returned to your neck, pulling you against his chest and causing the back of your head to painfully clash against his helmet. “You and that fucking mouth.” He murmured darkly, his own hips pressing against your bare skin. His length strained against his own slacks, offering a sick kind of relief that was anything but. It was a promise, but one you weren’t truly sure he would give — you knew he was enjoying the torment he was putting you through. “I’m going to shove my cock into that pretty mouth and make you shut up for once.”

You made a small noise at the back of your throat, purposely shoving your hips further against him. “Then do it.”

Before you could blink, you were spun once more and a leg skillfully kicked your own out from under you until you were on your knees. His visor was tilted low enough to know he was watching you, his head tilting just enough to say, “well?”. 

Without another thought, you were unclasping his slacks and releasing his cock. It sprung free wholeheartedly, his tip swollen a deep red and so pretty and so much. 

As if able to hear your thoughts, you caught the faint sound of amusement from him before his fingers curled into your hair and wrenched your head upwards so you were forced to meet his unseen gaze. “I think this is the longest you’ve ever been silent since we met, an’edee.” He took a short moment to trace his thumb over the nape of your head, securely and effectively collecting your hair into his fist. “Now, suck.”

You didn’t argue, lips falling open just in time for the slight jar he gave to your head towards his dick. He pushed no further than past his tip, giving you ample time to explore and appreciate. You did just that with silent glee, tongue swiping slow and languid laps, beginning at his shift and slowly upwards. He remained silent as you continued your slow exploration, the only indication that was he remotely affected being the slight twitch of his fingers in your hair. 

You lifted a hand to stroke his length with a lazy admiration, pushing your spit where your mouth had yet to touch... Yet. He was torturously thick and as your fingers traced the pulsing vein on the underside of him, he twitched and it seemed to surge forward on its own volition. As if it was attempting to push even more blood into his dick just to reach your mouth faster.

Nevertheless, he remained eerily but characteristically silent. 

You took him in your mouth once more, daring to take that much more and gently caressing what remained. It was hardly more than a caress, but enough to keep him interested and wanting. You set a slow, but steady pace, ferociously ignoring the fiery blaze that licked at your own heat. 

He stood there, still clad in his untouchable armor and blasters still in their holsters — untouchable. It didn’t matter his cock was in your mouth. He was still as much as in control as ever. 

It became a game. You wanted him to react. You wanted him to fall apart. 

Your gaze flickered back up to him as your pace quickened, more than aware that his own had never wavered from the sight of his cock steadily pumping into your hot mouth. You didn’t need to see through his darkened visor to know.

Just as you moved to caress one of his balls, still partially shielded by his slacks, he caught your wrist in a near-painful hold. A displeased growl echoed through his helmet, ripping you away from him and to your feet. You couldn’t help the wicked grin that settled on your lips, swiping your own spit from your bottom lip with a thumb. 

“You want to tease?” He questioned, one hand roughly guiding you to the table he tended to use as a make-shift worktable, bending you over it with ease while his other hand swiped for something against the wall. It wasn’t until the lights flickered shut and the sound of heavy metal clashing against metal stung at your ears, that you knew what was happening. 

He gave no warning as his tongue flirted between your folds, causing your body to naturally tighten at the abrupt intrusion. It was too good, too much, when there was little warning beforehand.

He lapped eagerly, rotating from languid, deep strokes of his tongue and abrupt, sharp sucking at your sensitive, singing clit. What his intentions were were incredibly clear. This wasn’t soft love between two people who loved one another. He was going to fuck you and tease your every limit, and make you love every fucking second of it. 

Each time your body would instinctively jump away, either from a harsh nip at your sensitive thighs or it simply being too much at once, an unforgiving hand would tighten its hold on your leg and drag you back to his mouth. 

In a matter of minutes, with his facial hair sharply biting at your skin and his unrelenting tongue, you were keening. However, he refused you any kind of release. The moment your thighs tightened or breath quickened, he would make a soft sound of amusement and deter his movements until your body sagged in anything but relief. 

At the third or fourth rotation of the infuriating game, you finally caved. “If you don’t let me fucking cum, I’m going to—,” He cut you off before you could finish, lifting himself up until his lips were touching the shell of your ear. 

“I thought you’d learned.” He used one hand to lick his fingers, rewetting his tip while the other caught you around your throat. Mid-breath, he impaled you with one thrust, seemingly unable to help his own gruff groan. “To keep that pretty mouth shut.” He breathed, using his grip at your throat to drag you back down with each thrust. 

A soft sound spilled from you each time his hips met your pelvic bone, promising you’d feel him for days, each time you moved. His pace was unrelenting, hardly ever giving you the time to even realize he was gone before he was thrusting back in. 

His teeth nipped at your ear as he fucked you near senselessly, quickly and nearly effortlessly drawing the orgasm you’d been begging for once more. “You like this, don’t you? Being fucked like this.” A string of profanities fell from you then, so fucking close and wanting to cum so badly. If he were to give it to you, you would have given him anything. 

“Want to cum, pretty thing?” He questioned, the lewd sounds of your fucking only worsening as he continued. “Beg for it.”

You did so without question. “Please, please, please—” A sharp sound from your throat cut you off, just as his free hand circled your clit once and you swore you saw the heavens above. Your orgasm was ripped out of you, squeezing yourself so tight around him, his grasp on your throat loosened and his forehead fell against your shoulder. 

He came with a low grunt, pulling out from your warmth and spilling on your back. He stood unmoving for the faintest of moments, as if aware you still hadn’t returned to the present just yet. 

You released a shaky breath and touched your forehead to the cool metal underneath you. “Well, fuck Mando. You’ve been holding out on me.”

He instantly sighed and you imagined the curt shake of his head. “That fucking mouth.” 

[flappingdragon200]

Summary}

Noelle gets noticed by her big brother and his rival. Noelle gets caught and the two have to explain themselves (Sorta). But all in all, Noelle finally strikes a deal with her siblings.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[Previously]

"You know..." Her brother sighed before continuing, " I should have challenged you to a game of poker. I would have won. And I'd also have more money on my behalf." He looked up and smiled, and Fuegoleon dipped Nozel and... and...

MY BROTHER IS GAY?!?!?!?!?!?!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[Continue...]

Noelle didn't know what to do. She stood there, eye's wide, as her brother's rival kissed him, on the lips, passionately, as his hands traveled up and down Nozel's leg heatedly. Noelle couldn't believe this...

Her brother moaned...

Never in her lifetime of living with her brother, never ever, had she heard him make that kind of sound before. But here she is, seeing what she couldn't believe was possible.

W-wait... What..?! I... I have to be seeing things...

Noelle blinked twice, she even rubbed her eyes to see if it was real. And in fact... It was.

Noelle backed up feeling very confused, but she didn't know that there was a table with a vase on it. And yes by now I think you know what's going to happe-

C R A S H

The vase fell and broke as she bumped her hip against the table.

She saw between the crack of the door, they looked at the crack and saw someone, but they didn't know who...

"See! I TOLD you! You idiotic oaf!" Nozel said as he slapped Fuegoleon in the face with an obvious blush on his face.

Noelle didn't know what to do as her brother came closer to the door. Her feet yet again deciding for her, she sprinted for her life as she ran down the hall.

As Nozel gotten to the doors and opened them to see who was out there. But as he looked from his right to his left, he saw just the outline of someone's feet running the corner of the hallway. Nozel walked back over to Fuegoleon.

"You... Will stay here and wait till I come back. You got that?" Nozel said as he pushed a finger to Fuegoleon's chest harshly as he backed up and put his hands in the air as a, "I surrender" Move.

After he did so, Nozel tried his best to run as fast as he could in heels, hoping to catch the culprit who dared to sneak a peek inside of the room, while he was doing something that he should have never been doing.

Damn it..! My reputation is ruined now..!

{Back With Noelle}

Noelle didn't stop running until she knew she was far away, where any of them couldn't find her.

Noelle put her hands on her knees and bet over, as she caught her breath. It took 5 minutes to regain her normal breathing. Her throat was dry after breathing so hard. Her legs didn't seem to be working anymore, so she sat down and regained her composer.

As she did so, she looked around at where she was at.

She didn't know where she was at. She didn't even know that this place existed. She never saw this place before. But. It looked like it hasn't been touched in years.

It didn't seem like anyone, not even a single soul has traveled through these halls, and you could tell by the many cobwebs and spiders, and the old paint on the broken tables, and the rickety doors that could break any moment someone touched them.

Despite Noelle's legs that ached with every move, she stood up to wander around to see where she was at.

Noelle traveled down hallways, opened up doors to old bedrooms, guest rooms, bathrooms, living rooms, lounge rooms, and many more.

Noelle opened the last door from the hallway she was in and took a quick look inside. Nothing was new, it was just another guest room.

All in all, there wasn't much to explore, there was just 4 guest rooms, 2 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms, 1 lounge room, and 2 living rooms, and an abandoned hot spring, with no controls as they were ripped out of the wall, and the pools where the hot water would be were empty and the paint was dried and cracked, and it also smelled horribly disgusting.

Noelle closed the door and continued to walk down the rest of the door-less hallway and turned another corner.

What she saw was, at the end of the hallway there was a pair of double doors, quite large, with gold, and silver designs on them.

Noelle got curious and walked toward the door. She got closer to the door. And soon enough, she was looking at the door handle wondering if she pulled that handle, what would be on the other side of the door.

But she was immediately stopped when she remembered why she was here.

Wait... I'm not here to be exploring! I'm here to fix things with my siblings..!

Noelle shook her head, and walked back down the empty hallway, back the way her siblings were at.

{Meanwhile With Nozel and Fuegoleon}

"This is all your fault..!" Nozel shouted at Fuegoleon as he stripped from his "Dress" and put on his regular attire for the day as Fuegoleon had his back to him, doing the same thing.

"How is this my fault? I had nothing to do with this." Fuegoleon replied while putting on his under white/tan T-shirt, and soon following it, his abnormally heavy cardigan.

"If you hadn't started that fight and struck that deal, then afterward suggested that we did whatever we did in that... Room... Then this would never have happened..! It's your god damn fault! My reputation is ruined because of you and your silly games!" Nozel finished as he put on his choker and went to get his sandals.

"Look. I didn't know that someone would sneak on us and take a look. I can't tell the future Nozel." Fuegoleon said as he tied his belt around his stomach and finished his look by putting on his boots.

In fact, Fuegoleon was right. He couldn't tell the future.

"Well, you better start trying," Nozel said as he put on his sandals and stormed out the door yet again.

Fuegoleon sighed as he picked up the suit he was wearing before this event started, and folded it nicely as he set it down on Nozel's bedside table.

"Well, that was a waste of time. So much for trying to get him to soften up a bit." Fuegoleon said as he rubbed the back of his head as he climbed out the balcony window and went back to the other side of the Silva Estate.

{Yet Again Back With Noelle}

Noelle walked the halls of the Silva Estate in search of someone, a maid, a butler, hell, even one of her siblings.

As Noelle was walking down one of the hallways about to turn the corner, something or someone, rushed by the hallway in front of her.

(If this is confusing I'll just- you know what... Here...)

📷

~~~~~~~

Noelle fell to the ground as she wondered what the hell just happened. She blinked a few times before she stood up once again.

Noelle shook her head in disbelief.

No... That couldn't be him... That can't be-

"Noelle?"

Noelle poked her head up to see her big brother, in his normal attire look at her with a raised eyebrow and a light crimson blush on his face.

Noelle yet again rubbed her eyes to see what she was seeing was true. And yet again, in fact, it was, real.

Noelle's face turned bright red as she got in a stance to run.

And she did.

As Noelle did run her head only thought of one thing,

I'M DEAD, I'M DEAD, IM DEAD!!!

Soon she found herself being wrapped up in something cold, and smooth. Her legs kept swinging as if she was still running when she was actually being lifted up from the marble floor.

And in an instant, she was looking at her big brother's eyes in terror.

"I think we need to have a little talk..."

"Ooh~! H-Hey Nozel~! Didn't see you there! How is life going for you?~" Noelle was sweating underneath her clothing as she felt his cold gaze upon her as she looked anywhere but at him.

"Enough of the pep talk. Your coming with me." Nozel said as she lost all hope of trying to escape from his magic's grasp.

"I'm screwed..." Noelle said as a ghost-like figure came from her mouth as she looked while as a ghost.

[Mini-Time skip!]

Noelle was now, sitting on the couch, accompanied by Fuegoleon and her big brother Nozel.

It was dead silent. Noelle was shaking in her seat.

"Look. Noelle. I'm sure whatever you saw was a big misunderstand-" Fuegoleon was cut off by Nozel.

"She's not an idiot like you. She has eye's you know..." Nozel glared daggers at Fuegoleon and he just sighed.

"Then you take it from here. I have no idea why I was called here in the first pl-" Fuegoleon had gotten to stand up but was grabbed by the arm and pulled down by Nozel.

"You're staying right here, and you're not going anywhere until I say so." Nozel shot daggers at Fuegoleon's figure.

Fuegoleon just sighed and crossed his arms while sitting back in the seat, closing his eyes, waiting for them to continue what they were going to talk about.

"I have no idea who let you in the first place, and if that was you at the door, you have seen nothing. Do I make myself clear?" Nozel said glaring at his little sister as she was in a different dimension at the moment in this timeline.

WHAT IS HAPPENING?!?!?! MY LIFE IS DOOMED!

Then an awkward silence fell between them, with Nozel waiting for an answer, clearly, he wasn't going to get any time soon, and Fuegoleon who was just laid back as usual, and Noelle... Going ape shit crazy as of the moment.

Noelle Couldn't focus. But it was only when Fuegoleon called out to her multiple times she awoke from her wonders.

"Uhh... Y-Yes?" Noelle spoke and Nozel sighed, thinking that would be the best answer he was going to get out from the younger one.

Nozel pressed on the bridge of his nose and asked her a question, "What are you even doing here anyway? I thought you didn't like it here..." he spoke not looking in the direction of the teenager.

"uhh... well... You see... uhh..." Noelle was sweating. No. beyond sweating. She felt like a burning volcano.

"Well?" Nozel looked at her in the eye with a questionable look on his face.

Brother Nozel is scary. I think even scarier than Captain Yami...

Noelle gulped, and took a deep breath then shouted, "THE TRUTH IS I WANT TO MAKE A DEAL WITH YOU!!!"

Nozel nearly fell off his seat, and Fuegoleon flinched heavily.

Who knew the girl could scream so loud?

After both of the older males' ears came back from the dead, Nozel asked her another question, "What kind of deal..?"

He was a bit scared. But he wouldn't admit it.

"Well..." Noelle looked around and saw servants looking their way, then responded, "I think it's better with privacy. I don't want rumors spreading..." She then looked back to the ground contemplating her existence.

Nozel shot a deathly glare at the servants signaling to stop whatever they are doing and go as far away as possible.

The servants were now on the other side of the estate.

Nozel looked back to Noelle, "Continue." He said while Fuegoleon sweatdropped.

Noelle looked up to meet her brother's gaze, she once again gulped, but this time, with fear, "The truth is, I don't want the bond we barely even have to break... I don't want to live in fear every time I have to see you or Solid and Nebra anymore. I want to have a normal family, like everyone else..."

Both males' eyes widened at her statement.

Nozel was beyond shock. Fuegoleon just smiled in disbelief.

Noelle looked at Fuegoleon and then her brother. She looked down to the floor. She didn't know what to do. How will they react? What will they think of her?

It was a long silence before someone spoke up. Guess who? It's secret. (Just read ahead)

Nozel cleared his throat before speaking, "I will notify Nebra and Solid about this matter. Until then you will have to wait for an answer. I will send you a letter to your squad's headquarters." Nozel sat up from his seat and pulled Fuegoleon by the ear.

"Ouch! Hey! What's the rush?!" Fuegoleon was dragged across the room, and up the stairs questioning Nozel.

"We, have more important matters to discuss..." Nozel growled as he pulled Fuegoleon, by the ear, even harder.

Noelle watched them bicker as they walked off into the distance. She sat there figuring out what had just happened.

Noelle blinked a few times before smiling and laughing.

Well... That's not what I had expected... But. it's a great start!

Noelle sat up with a smile on her face as she went to leave the estate. As Noelle did so, she passed by the portrait of her Mother. She stopped to look at it and smiled even brighter.

I hope your watching mother... I hope you're doing well. I know I am.

And Noelle continued to walk outside and to The Black Bulls hideout. She cant wait to tell them what had happened.

No. She really can't.

[sassycassie-s-writing]

Hold My Phone

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): A Court of Thorns and Roses Series/Rhysand

Rating: PG-11/T- (v seductive flirting)

Original Idea: Modern!AU (kinda sorta not really)

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) This one is so ridiculous. It’s basically a “Everything is Pretty Much the Same but They Have Phones” AU, not really a modern AU because I figured this would be how Rhys would handle having a phone with the High Lord act, lol

^^^^^

My phone buzzed in my pocket. In a meeting with some Autumn Court emissaries. I’m bored. Entertain me? Rhys’ text said.

Why are you texting me? Just use the mating bond, I texted back.

Yeah but I want these idiots to *know* that I’m bored of them and can’t be bothered to give them my attention.

Playing games with them?

Always.

Exactly how do you propose I entertain you?

It took his answer a few minutes to arrive. I wondered if it was because he was thinking about the wickedest, most flirtatious thing to say or something came up in the meeting that he did actually have to give his attention to.

What are you wearing right now? I shouldn’t have been surprised that was his reply.

My purple outfit. The dark purple one with the stars embroidered into it.

I’m debating asking you to send me a picture of you in it or asking you to take it off and send me a picture of *that*

I am not sending you any pictures while you’re in a meeting. I hadn’t replied to a text that quickly in a while.

His reply came quickly too, Send it down the mating bond then. No records ;)

I rolled my eyes and got to my feet. Up in our room, I stood in front of the full-length mirror, stared at myself while lowering my mental shield, shot the image I was looking at—fully clothed—down the bond, and then slammed my shields back into place.

It took seconds for an answering image of Rhys licking his lips with a feral gleam in his eyes to bump into my shield. I rolled my eyes. My phone buzzed. Delicious. As always, darling.

Happy?

Deliriously.

Go back to your meeting, you flirt. I’ll see you later.

But I’m still bored.

Don’t be a baby. I have a meeting in 30 minutes I have to get ready for with the governor of the Palace of Threads and Jewels.

What are you meeting with the governor for?

I don’t think it’s any big deal. Probably just going over some requests from patrons who have gathered together a bunch of things rather than hauling themselves up 10,000 stairs to the House.

Good luck.

You too. I set my phone down on my vanity. I hated getting rid of the loose pants and sleeves but I knew for a meeting like this that I’d need a gown.

I sent Rhys mental images of every gown I tried on before selecting one, and every hairstyle I thought of doing, asking his opinion and ultimately ignoring it when he seductively told me he liked the most revealing dress with my hair unbound. I definitely called him a name I had no plans on apologizing for before replacing my shields.

I ended up going with a modest midnight blue gown glittering with silver threads that would be appropriately formal, but not so formal it felt like an occasion. Instead of a tiara or crown or diadem I kept my hair out of my face with a comb that was made of black metal and studded with diamond dust to look like the night sky. Crescent moon-shaped sapphire taking up most of the space in the middle.

Nuala and Cerridwen approved of my choices and I shooed myself out to go see the governor.

—

I collapsed on the bed after leaving my dress abandoned on the floor. The meeting was exactly what I thought it would be and after all the requests I was tired. I genuinely cared about my people but putting forth the mental strain of trying to figure out how to fix so many problems at once I started having to pretend to be chipper.

I hadn’t realized I dozed off until a weight falling onto the bed beside me woke me up.

Rhys fell in such a way that he could sprawl his wings above me, taking up a good portion of the bed. He was in casual clothing—silver-buttoned black shirt with the top button undone to let his tattoos peek out, black pants, low black boots—but I knew him better than to think he’d gone to the meeting in them. As he fell, he sighed. “That was tedious,” he remarked, setting a hand on the top of my head and scratching my hair. His fingers brushed my comb and he stopped.

“Tell me about it,” I grumbled.

He sat up to lean over me. He gave me a long, slow kiss as he removed the comb from my hair. “You didn’t wear the dress I chose,” he teased.

“I asked your opinion, not to choose for me,” I countered. “Besides, I doubt you’d even want another male to look at me in a dress like that.”

“Fair enough,” he conceded playfully. He kissed the hollow behind my ear. “You can model it for me later.”

“Flirt,” I accused.

“Spoilsport,” he retorted.

His phone started ringing in his pocket. I recognized the personalized tone. He only personalized a few. Azriel’s, Cassian’s, Mor’s, Amren’s, and mine.

Heaving another sigh, he extracted the phone from his pocket. “What do you want, Cassian?” There was no bite at all to the words, just resigned fatigue. He listened to words I couldn’t quite make out as he fidgeted with my comb in his other hand. He rolled his eyes. “That can wait. I’ll squeeze it in tomorrow, okay?”

More babbling from Cassian’s end of the call. I thought I caught snatches of Azriel’s voice too.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ll deal with it tomorrow. Bye.” He hung up, but I could still hear them talking as he ended the call. “Can never get one hour of peace with those two,” he muttered, silencing his phone.

He tossed it somewhere behind him and I heard it thunk on the rug.

“For tonight, darling, I have some much more entertaining events scheduled.” He bent over me and pressed another kiss to my lips. I kissed him back enthusiastically, reaching up to brush my fingers into his hair. He relaxed slightly, the weight of his head growing against mine as his neck tension softened.

“Let me silence my phone,” I said.

He waved a hand vaguely over his shoulder. “Done,” he said.

I smiled. “Bath before or after?”

“Hmm… after.”

“Fine with me.”

—

Both of our phones vibrating wildly on the end tables of our bed woke us the next morning. I jolted so hard I bonked my head on Rhys’ wing bone where he’d draped it over me as we slept, as he often did.

I reached out for my phone. There was no caller ID and the combination wasn’t one I recognized. That happened all the time. I answered anyway, assuming it was a matter of state, as usual. “Hello?”

“High Lady?” The voice was small and trembling. Not young, but frightened.

“Yes?”

“There’s something in the harbor.”

Before I could ask for more details, the caller hung up.

Rhys answered his phone much more lazily than I had. “This is Rhys,” he said. He never used his full given name to answer the phone. High Lord Tamlin, his enemy, could be calling and he’d still use Rhys.

He bolted up in bed so abruptly, his wing bone hit me in the back of the head. Thankfully the talon missed me. We both winced at the pain as he mouthed, Sorry, and leapt out of bed to get dressed. I figured I’d probably need to go investigate the harbor so I got up too and found a pair of pants, shirt, and overcoat. Socks and boots followed before I wound my hair into a bun so I wouldn’t have to braid it yet.

Rhys hung up. “Was your call about the harbor too?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I replied. “Though, whoever it was didn’t say much.”

“Same here. Ready?”

I put the same comb I’d been wearing the day before into the top of my bun so I had some sort of ornamentation on. “Ready.”

He grabbed me around the shoulders and winnowed us out of the house.

We reappeared on the docks.

A dark shape was moving around under the surface of the water. I grabbed the railing and peered over it. “Too fluid to be a whale,” I said, noticing a small gathered crowd taking pictures on their phones, some recording videos.

Rhys’ hand settled on top of mine. It’s moving like a serpent, he said down our bond.

My grip on the railing halted. A serpent? Now? Like—like a sea serpent?

He didn’t reply. His dark eyes following where the head’s shape appeared to be.

“Hold onto this for me,” he said, pulling out his phone and holding it out. I took it out of habit, barely noticing his wings extending.

“Wait—Rhys—don’t—!” Too late. He used a powerful launch from his wings to get him over the railing before plunging into the water. As he dropped, I saw his clothes change from the casual dark shirt and pants to his fighting leathers. I wasn’t even sure any of the faeries around us noticed the change. A few of them yelped as his splash sprayed into the air.

I clung to the railing, staring into the depths.

“Rhysand…” I complained. “Stop being so reckless.”

I heard that, he teased.

I meant for you to, I retorted.

Wanna see?

I’m holding your phone. I’m not getting in that water.

You know that’s not what I meant.

I sent the sound of my sigh down the bond and felt his chuckle in return. Fine.

A crack opened in his mental shield. I slid into it, keeping a tether to get me out whenever I wanted if I got freaked out. My eyes glazed over as I started looking through his.

The harbor water was relatively clear, but a bit blurry. I—no, Rhys—flexed his magic to clear up his vision. My—his—hair drifted in front of his eyes a bit.

A large, deep red sea serpent twined around ahead, barely visible through the murk. Large fins were tucked against its sides.

Wings? I asked Rhys.

Yes. For jumping out of the water and snatching sailors from their ships. Among other things, he replied. They usually dwell in the depths. Wonder what it’s doing here.

I didn’t reply as he swam closer. Inside his mind, I could feel him dismiss his wings to reduce drag. Feel the strength in his shoulders as he stroked forward. In his mind, I had no private thoughts, so I knew he felt my anxiety. My fear for his safety. I felt him send a wave of calm through himself. He wasn’t nervous at all—for whatever reason.

The serpent caught sight of him. My breath hitched, but Rhys didn’t even flinch. Gold eyes bored into him, fangs revealed in something of a snarl.

Sorry, love, Rhys thought, I need to speak to it mind to mind, and don’t want you here for it. Too hard to concentrate on two minds at once.

Fine with me, I replied.

He shoved me out of his mind.

I shook my head, blinking, as my consciousness returned to my own body. My hands were so tight on the railing that my knuckles were white.

Something tugged on my tunic. I turned.

A small faerie child with violet skin and long silver hair was standing beside me, looking up at me. “Are you alright, High Lady?” Innocence and genuine concern were in its voice. I knelt to be on the same eye level as the child, my hands resting on the phone in either of my pants pockets.

“Yes. Yes, I’m alright. Just concerned for Rhys.”

The child looked into the harbor. “Mama says the High Lord is very powerful. He’ll be okay.”

I smiled at the child. “Yes. Yes he will.” I reached into the pocket of my tunic, pulling out one of the small candies I kept in there for when children stopped to talk to me—and Rhys usually. I offered it to the child. Everyone in Velaris knew their High Lord and Lady kept candy for children on them, so the child accepted without hesitation. They took off the wax paper wrapper and stuck the candy in their mouth before running back to their parents.

Rhys appeared on the dock behind me, dripping wet. “What’d I miss?” he asked.

I jumped to my feet and whirled around. “You okay?”

“Fine. I convinced it to leave.” He nodded toward the dark shape slithering out of the harbor now. “It was actually lost, I think. I managed to give it directions.”

I chuckled. “Never a boring day in Velaris.”

He joined my chuckle. “Not at all. Cassian’s gonna get a kick—” He swore. “I forgot. Cassian needed my help. You still have my phone?”

As I pulled it out of my pocket, he waved a hand to dry off.

He plunked in Cassian’s combination. “Hey, it’s me. I’m on my way.” He reached out a hand for me. I took it. Dark wind whipped around us as we winnowed away.

[pffbts]

↬genre: slice of life ; fluff ; comfort ; angst ; hint of soft romance!

↬characters: kim mingyu x reader | cameo: choi seungcheol

↬w.c: 1.5K

↬author`s note: tonight we`re back with mingyu. his one came from a very close personal spot in my heart. happy reading!! i love u all very much :)

↬synopsis: there are 13 boys who lives in your town where each of them have each of their own colors. some you know in person & some from afar so one day you sat down deciding to describe each of their colors absorbing all of their goodness and all of their flaws. you wondered what if someone in some other town ever thought of questioning when they looked at these boys, that―what if we lived in the same town?

☍ seungcheol | jeonghan | joshua | junhui | soonyoung | wonwoo | jihoon | seokmin | mingyu | minghao | seungkwan | vernon | chan

[15:45 PM] [some days you wondered if he could touch the sky, literally.]

―while the basketball court reminded the people of the town of him, for you it was the smell of home cooked meals that would defeat every restaurant`s delicacy.

it wasn`t like you never appreciated his sport skills or his math skills but most days you were just simply envious how easy mingyu makes things look like whenever he`s in the kitchen doing whatever he does.

your mother might have always nagged you saying how you will never be able to do half of the things that he does and she might be also the reason you hate him half-heartedly but at the same time you couldn`t help but admire his strong back when he cooks while you just join your and his mother at the dinner table.

every two or three months, both of your mothers who were friends since their own younger days would join at each one`s place during weekends to have some calm and quiet dinner with some occasional reminiscing of their old days while mingyu every time would secretly take an extra piece of chicken to place it on your plate.

and when your eyes will shoot up to meet with his own, you`ll catch him mouthing a, “eat up well.” with a small smile that reaches his eyes.

maybe he`s trying to make up for every time he never intentionally made you feel bad about yourself through your mother. he knew how she always compared you with him. that`s why during such weekends like giving some extra piece of meat or giving you a spoonful of broth when you`re standing next to him watching him cook, he would give some extra attentions to you without both of your mothers` knowledge so that when you walk back home, even if your mother picks another bone with you, you`ll always know that mingyu just simply loves cooking and caring for people he loves. he never does it out of a place where he wants to showcase.

most of your friends and people around you didn`t have much of the knowledge of the kind of relationship you had with mingyu because meeting him would be so random that you would be most of the time taken aback.

one of those days was that one night when you were walking back to your home from having a study session with your best friend at her place and you heard a familiar laughter from the other side of the road behind you.

looking over your shoulder, you saw none other than mingyu along with one of his closest buddy seungcheol, walking side by side and laughing to some things you didn`t quite hear.

you had your hood up over head so it was easy to hide by without grabbing his attention but before you could turn your head away and look straight ahead, mingyu, within that split second caught you with his eyes. you thought whether it was his inhumane speed in catching people with his eyes or his heartstrings vibrating with the sensation that one of his loved ones is close by and he needed to quickly find them in any way possible.

but what made you taken aback by all this and suddenly look straight ahead and just walk faster while pretending as if you never saw him didn`t ever cross your mind. you wonder what made you so nervous, it wasn`t like he was going to jump on you or something.

as you continued walking faster towards your home, mingyu called you out by your name in his softest voice and bid his friend a goodbye along with a, ‘i`ll see you tomorrow, man!’

everything happened within some few seconds―mingyu crossed the streets jogging, caught up to you and put his strong, protective arm around your shoulder hanging his palm politely in front of your chest without letting it touch you anyway while at the same time pulling you a little closer to his chest.

he had no business giving you this sudden free envelope of warmth during this cold night for no reason but you let him do what he wanted to do as long he`s just being that one good old friend of yours for a lifetime with whom you shared a single childhood polaroid picture sitting in each of your study desks.

but before you could say that it was completely unnecessary for him to walk with you by abandoning what seemed like a very interesting conversation with seungcheol some while ago, mingyu, in his very casual tone stated, ‘here, let me walk you home.’

and walk you home is what he did that night. he even stayed back to see you switching on the lights in your room and waved you a silent goodbye when you opened the window of your room to let the air pass inside. he had this dreamy look where his eyes looked like it was slightly wet and his soft bangs did their little dance on his forehead.

till to this day, you always wondered why he did that. was it out of selflessness that runs in him or was he really delighted to see you that night and decided to walk you back home as an excuse to spend some time with you?

till to this day, you`ve not figured this out but that night became one of those nights which never came back again into your life yet.

although there would be some instances where he would walk you back home when it would be dinner nights during both of your mothers` weekend days but your mother would always be there with you so things were always different.

so that was just one night when both of you were alone and the night air only acted as the background score by flowing through the trees and fluttering the leaves giving some escape to the silence that prevailed in-between both of you.

in-between some of these countable memorable incidents, both of you had some good share of eye contacts and nodding of heads when you would see him from the bleachers of the basketball court while he`s playing a game.

but that was it.

like it was said, your relationship with him was borderline formal. there wasn`t much intimacy and not much words were exchanged in-between both of you. at the end of the day, you were unsure how you would want him in your life because knowing mingyu gives you all sorts of options and conflicts at the same time.

if you gave him a little bit of a chance he would have accepted himself in any position in your life but you decided that you really didn`t have anything to give him back. his selflessness, his way of winning people`s heart without even trying, his familiarity and yet his charismatic way of putting people in a good mood was something you can never give him back.

the little you inside your head didn`t know how to perceive mingyu and you, yourself knew that you would never get to be alone with him like that night ever again so it`s better that you kept him at the friendship pedestal considering that has been the easiest lock to open all the time.

but you wished for that one person, who`d get to have him in his life from another town or this town to give their relationship with him a proper name and not be so conflicted with relationships in real life and where people stand in their life like yourself because you were definitely not something mingyu should be having in his life.

and it didn`t matter what he thought. because even if he thought something otherwise, you would still choose the easiest lock to open.

fin.

[study-coffee-chicago]

Undercover (A Jay and Will Halstead x Halstead Sister! Imagine)

This is super long so hang in there! It’s also my first imagine I’ve posted on Tumblr, so feedback would be amazing! (Also posted on my wattpad)

Mini synopsis:  In which something horrible happens to Y/N's best friend, Emma, so Y/N goes undercover to get her justice. She's under and everything's fine...until it's not fine at all.

Huge trigger warning for sexual assault. Please do not read if this makes you even the slightest bit uncomfortable! Also, please remember there are people out there to help you if you or someone you love has gone through this. Just google the sexual assault hotline and the number for your country should pop up.

Can you pick up chicken wings? No bluejays game on tonight, tho.

Below that text, your best friend, Emma, had sent you her location, which was turned on to send location indefinitely.

Back when you were both only freshmen in high school, you had come up with code words in case you needed help. This was mostly for unwanted attention from boys. Chicken wing(s) meant that you needed help ASAP. Bluejay(s) was code for Jay or cops.

"Fuck," you muttered as you tried to quickly piece together a plan. You couldn't call Jay or any cop for that matter. But, if she had sent you her location, that meant that she was definitely in trouble. You looked down at the location and could see that the red pin was moving further and further into the heart of the sketchiest part of the south side of Chicago.

Then it occurred to you: the safe in Jay's room under his bed where he told you that he kept a spare gun in case of emergencies. You ran into his room and dove under his bed, quickly pulling out the safe. You groaned as you realized he had forgotten to tell you the pin number to open it.

"Maybe Mom's birthday?" you thought aloud. You punched in the six numbers, causing a green light to turn on, and you yanked the small door of the safe open. "Dumbass," you muttered, thinking about how easy it would be for anyone in your family or anyone who was close to you, Jay, or Will to get their hands on the gun or other things like Jay's backup badge that were hidden there.

You grabbed the gun and your car keys and sprinted out of the house. "Hang on Emma," you said as you jumped in your car and pulled out your phone to see her location. The pin had been at the same location for two minutes now. Your stomach dropped, knowing this couldn't be good.

***

Jay dropped his keys in the ceramic dish on the table and headed into his room to change into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. He practically stopped breathing when he saw that the safe had been pulled out from under his bed and was open. He threw himself to the floor and looked in it. "Fuck," he muttered as he saw that the gun was gone.

He sprinted to the front of the house, only to see that your car was gone. "Ruz, I need you to ping Y/N's phone. Now," Jay said into his phone as he ran out of the house and to his truck.

Jay heard the clacking of keys on the other end of the line. "Okay, I sent you her location. What's wrong?"

Jay put his truck in drive and turned on the lights and sirens. "I think she's in trouble. She took my spare gun."

"Okay, Hailey's still here finishing up paperwork. We'll come for backup." Then the line went dead and Jay drove the fastest he ever had in his life.

***

"Are we announcing?" Hailey asked as she finished putting on her vest.

"No," Jay answered as the three began to walk closer and closer to an abandoned warehouse.

Jay tried the knob and to his surprise and everyone else's, it was unlocked. They heard crying as they walked inside and Jay pointed out directions.

Adam walked toward the sound of the crying, while Hailey and Jay worked on clearing areas behind huge shelves.

"Someone's here," Emma whispered to you as you heard a door open. You had given her your coat to wrap around her body. You knew you had to get her to a doctor, but she had told you no cops, which meant no Jay and you had no idea how to get her out safely. You had thought about calling Will, but when you tried to call him, the call only rang once and then stopped. You only had one bar, so the call didn't go through.

With shaking hands, you picked up the gun and pointed it directly at the door. "Put the gun down!" Adam yelled as he looked through the small crack in the door. From his vantage point, all he saw was a gun. He couldn't see that you were the one holding it. "Jay, I need backup over here," he whispered into his radio.

"Copy," he answered and walked down the stairs, gun drawn. "Ready?" Jay asked. Adam nodded and Jay proceeded to kick in the door.

"CPD hands where we can see 'em!" Adam yelled the moment Jay kicked the door. But then he saw who was there and he turned to Jay.

"Y/N," Jay started slowly and calmly, "put the gun down."

Slowly, you lowered the gun and placed it on the floor. Before Jay or Adam even had a chance to get a word in, Emma yelled out, "I said no cops!"

"Emma, I promise you that I didn't call them. Why would I have a gun if I called them, huh?"

That's when Adam and Jay turned to Emma, who was clearly in need of medical attention. Jay nodded to Adam. "This is 50-21 Ida," Adam spoke into his radio, "We have a girl here in need of medical attention. I need you to roll an ambo to my current location. Roll crime scene techs, too. Be advised there are three plain clothes officers on scene."

"Copy that, 50-21 Ida."

"Hey, Emma." Adam slowly moved towards Emma. "I'm Adam. I work with Y/N's brother, Jay. Can you stand up for me?"

She looked down at her body, the coat you had let her borrow barely covering her and you knew that when she stood up, it wouldn't cover all her most vulnerable place. Jay must've got the message too. "Hailey," he said into his radio, "Offender's in the wind. We've got a victim down here. If you see anything to cover her up, bring it here."

"Copy." There was a pause as shuffling could be heard on the radio. "I found a blanket. Coming down now." You heard footsteps on the ground and Adam and Jay immediately raised their guns. "Upton!" Hailey yelled as she opened the door.

The boys lowered their guns and put them back in their holsters. You heard sirens in the distance. "Hi, honey," Hailey said as she walked over to Emma. "I'm Hailey. What's your name?"

"Emma."

"Okay, Emma. We're gonna get you to a hospital. Can you wrap this around you so you can stand up?"

She nodded and stood up and took the blanket.

"Do you wanna go with her?" Jay whispered to you.

"No." You didn't want to see your best friend in a hospital bed knowing that you could have prevented this from happening if you only called Jay. "I'll call her mom, though."

"I'll do that," Hailey offered and Jay forwarded Emma's mom's number to Hailey. Hailey and Emma walked away, leaving you, Adam, and Jay.

"You mind waiting until Voight gets here?" Jay asked.

"Crime scene techs are here so I won't be alone if what you're worried about is me not having backup," Adam answered, humor in his voice.

"Thanks, man. I'm gonna take Y/N to the district to get her statement."

He dropped the magazine out of the gun and laughed. "What's so funny?" you asked.

"It's a good thing you didn't have to shoot anyone because the mag's empty."

"The what's empty?"

"The magazine. It's where the bullets go."

"Oh."

"Jeez, Jay. When you said you kept your work away from Y/N you really weren't kidding."

"Shut up," Jay joked as you followed him out of the warehouse and into his truck. He turned the heat as high as it could go, seeing as you were without a coat in the middle of a Chicago winter.

"Now, I'm not mad, I just want to know what happened," he said as he started to drive.

"How'd you find me?" you asked, knowing that you hadn't broken your promise of not calling the cops.

"I went home and saw the safe was open and the gun was gone, so I had Adam track your phone."

"Oh."

"Can you please tell me what happened?"

"You promise you won't be mad?"

"Unless you were doing something illegal, then I won't be mad. I'm assuming you had a good reason for taking my gun?"

"Emma texted me our code word for if a guy was creeping on her and she said no cops. She also sent me her location. So, I grabbed the gun and I came here."

You took a deep breath as you started to cry. "We can finish this at the district, okay?" Jay suggested.

"Yeah," you agreed.

***

You were sitting on the couch next to Jay, slowly sipping your water as he flipped open his notepad. "Take as much time as you need."

"You're talking to me like a victim, not a witness," you quipped.

"How would you know that?"

"I watch enough crime shows in my free time to know that's how cops talk to the vic."

"Okay, yeah, but you're my baby sister. Do you know how hard it was for me to walk into that room and see you holding a gun? Can you please tell me what happened?"

"Like I said, Emma sent me her location, so I went to the warehouse. When I found her, she was laying on the floor, naked, and I ran over to her. H-He raped her, Jay. I-It's all my f-fault," you stuttered, beginning to cry.

"It is not your fault. Not in a million years is this your fault."

"If I would've called you, this wouldn't have happened!"

Jay wondered why you didn't call him, and he wasn't going to ask. But, if this went to trial and you became a witness, you knew the defense would ask you. So, he knew he had to ask you, too. "Why didn't you call me?"

"She told me that she had to go to the bathroom. The guy let her, but didn't know that she had her phone on her. He said if she tried to run or call the police that he'd shoot her. She said that while he was, while he was you know, doing things to her, that he held a gun to her head. He said that if she screamed, he'd kill her."

Jay ran a hand through his hair as you continued. "I tried to call Will, I really did, but I didn't have good enough reception in the warehouse."

"We got a hit on the offender!" Kim yelled as she rounded the corner into the breakroom.

Jay stood up, but not without looking at you. "Stay here. I don't want you anywhere near this," he said as he walked out and shut the door.

"What do we got?" Jay asked, seeing all of Intelligence gathered in the bullpen.

"We think the guy is James Mason," Voight started. "Did a year in Stateville for rape. Released for good behavior three months ago."

"Good behavior my ass," Adam chirped.

"How do you know it's this guy, Sarge?" Kevin asked.

"He just so happened to walk into a neighboring bar where I know a guy. Guy said he didn't think the two were together, but then they went off somewhere, they came back, he ordered her a drink and she seemed to be comfortable around him."

"He check her ID?" Jay asked.

"I assume so," Voight answered. "Why?"

"Emma's not 21 yet, so she had to have had a fake or he used his ID to buy both drinks." Then a thought occurred to him. "You got the surveillance footage from the bar?"

"Yeah, right over here," Kim answered.

Jay looked at the footage. "Pause it." He watched as Emma walked away from the perp and rounded the corner, following a restroom sign. "That had to be the time Emma texted Y/N her location because she told her that he let her go to the bathroom and he told her that if she tried to get help, he'd shoot her because he had a gun."

"Okay, see if Mason's got a registered firearm," Voight said. "Better yet, pull up his address. Atwater, Burgess, and Ruzek get a search warrant and find it."

"Copy that, Sarge," Kevin said, grabbing his jacket.

Hailey ran up the stairs as Kevin, Kim, and Adam ran down. "Any update on the victim?" Voight asked.

"She's been through trauma, that's for sure," Hailey answered. "Lacerations on her wrists and ankles, bruising on her stomach and thighs, and vaginal tearing."

"Like she was tied up." Jay pieced it together.

"Halstead, your sister ever mention anything about having to untie her?"

"No, Sarge."

"Maybe he undid the ties himself," Hailey suggested.

"Why would he do that? Then she could just call the cops and run away." Voight asked.

"He gets off on it," Hailey answered. "He unties his victims so that they can leave, but they're too traumatized to leave. So, he knows even if he's not there, he's still controlling them."

"Sick son of a bitch," Jay said.

"Voight," he answered as he picked up his phone. "Find anything at the house?" There was a pause as someone on the other end talked. "That's good, we can use that but, we'll just have to find another way to nail him." Then he ended the call.

"What's up, Sarge?" Hailey asked.

"They didn't find anything at Mason's house, but his car was gone. They went through his financials and found out his car just got a new license plate today, which is why it wasn't updated in the database yet. But, they found the paperwork for that new license plate, so we can use that. Burgess also said that they found his calendar with bar names on each day."

"So, he goes to a bar every night and we just need to get him in the act?" Hailey suggested.

"I'll call up a rookie," Voight said as he started to walk towards his office.

"I'll do it!" you volunteered.

"Y/N! I thought I told you to stay in there!" Jay admonished.

"It's not like the walls are soundproof."

"She's got a point, Jay," Hailey agreed with you.

"You're not going in there regardless and that's final!"

"Jay, she's my best friend. I gotta help get this guy. And, if you can't get him on the rape, you can at least get him on distributing alcohol to a minor," you suggested.

Jay looked over at Hank. "Sarge, you can't be considering this!"

"She's got a good point, Jay."

"There's no way Will will agree to this, either."

"Let me call him," you suggested and walked away to talk to your other older brother.

"Hailey, there's no way she's going in there," Jay said to Hailey when they were both seated in the breakroom.

"Jay, you know Hank will put me or Burgess in as ghost in the bar so that things don't get that far. And she'll have a safe word." She paused and reached for his hand. "If it were your best friend, you'd do the same thing she's doing and you know it."

"Will said it's okay," you said as you walked into the breakroom.

"He what?" Jay jumped off the couch.

"He said it's okay on one condition: If he's in the car with you so that if I need medical attention, he can do it without having to wait on the paramedics."

"Then it's a go," Voight said as he heard that.

"It's not a go!" Jay yelled. "Sarge, she's a civilian! You can't be serious about this!"

"Jay, she's no different from a CI. We'll have Upton be her ghost and we'll all be right outside. The minute she says the safe word we'll nail his ass."

***

"Sarge, I'm not okay with this," Jay said as he walked into Voight's office, leaving the door open.

"Jay, we are not having this discussion again! She's okay with it and I'm okay with it. I'm your boss, so you listen to me."

"Do you see what she's wearing? She's asking for it!"

The bullpen went silent the second the words came out of his mouth. "A word," Hailey hissed, roughly grabbing Jay's arm and leading him into the breakroom. This time, he closed the door.

"You're lucky Y/N didn't hear you, Jay! You're a cop, you know it's never the victim's fault!"

Jay raked a hand through his hair. "I know. I messed up," he sighed. "I just, I can't let anything happen to her. She's my baby sister, Hails. I already buried both of my parents. I can't bury her, too."

"Will it make you feel better if you went in and stayed in the bar with me? I can talk to Voight," Hailey suggested.

"Actually yeah, that would make me feel a hell of a lot better."

***

"Hailey, Jay's not gonna like this but I need you to make sure he doesn't come after me until there are obvious signs of a struggle," you said. "Let him hit me a bit; I can handle it. Will's on scene and will fix me up if anything happens. But I have to get justice for Emma because right now, she can barely sleep."

She squeezed your shoulder. "Copy that."

"Vests good?" Voight asked as he entered. Everyone nodded. "Y/N, there's still time to put one on if you want it."

"He'll know something's up if he feels it. I gotta do without it."

"Alright roll--" Voight couldn't finish his sentence because Jay cut him off.

"Just give me five minutes with Y/N, Sarge. Five minutes, that's all."

"Okay, everyone load up." Voight turned to Jay. "Five minutes Halstead, and that's it."

When everyone was gone, Jay turned to you and bent down so that he was eye level with you. "You can still back out now. No one will blame you."

"I can't. I need to do this for Emma and for all the other girls this has probably happened to."

Your brother nodded and reached into his pocket. "Just don't get this mixed up with your regular lipstick, okay?" You started to ask why when he took the cap off to reveal a knife.

"Jay, Voight said no weapons."

"You didn't think I was just going to let you go in unarmed, did you? And relax, Platt gave it to me. So, if Voight figures it out, she's got my back."

"So where's the best place to, you know..." you trailed off, hoping that you wouldn't have to stab Mason, but wanting to know the best place to do it if worst comes to worst.

"I'd say thigh or his, his uh..."

"Penis," you finished.

"I was gonna say man parts, but penis works, too."

You took the lipstick from him and stuffed it in your dress. "Is it noticeable?"

"Never in a million years did I think I'd have to inspect my sister's boobs for a weapon. But, no, it's not noticeable."

"Halsteads!" Voight boomed. "We gotta go now!"

"Okay!" Jay turned back to you. "Safe word?"

"Vodka Cranberry." You and the team decided on that since it would be easy to weasel into a conversation.

"Hey, I love you." He hugged you and you swore you could hear his heart beating despite his vest. You assumed this was the most nervous he'd ever been about an undercover operation.

"I love you, too."

***

"Suspect approaching. You guys copy inside?" you heard Kevin's voice through the wire hidden in your ear.

"Yeah," you answered and you heard Hailey and Jay agree.

Hailey walked up to you, as she was posing as your friend and Jay was posing as the guy that she would flirt with so that Mason could get you alone, even though the thought of that made you sick.

"And remember, if he gets you alcohol, don't drink it," Hailey warned. "This entire investigation could go out the window."

"Not to mention she'd be grounded," you heard Jay come in through your hidden earpiece.

"Jay, if you make comments like this through your wire the entire night, we're gonna have a problem."

"Copy."

You and Hailey pretended to be talking about some people from your neighborhood when you heard Jay talking to you. "I've got eyes on him. He's headed your way."

Hailey shot a glance at Jay, and then reached for your top, pulling it down a bit more to reveal more of your boobs. "Hailey--" Jay started into his wire, but Hailey shot him a glare to make him shut up.

"What are you two ladies doing here all alone?" James Mason asked, coming up and sitting beside you.

"Oh, you know, just chatting," Hailey said, taking a sip of her drink.

"Mind if I join the conversation?" he asked, waving a bartender over.

"Actually, I've got my eye on someone over there," Hailey said as she stood up. "You're just her type," she whispered in his ear as she made her way over to Jay.

"Can I get you a beer? A shot maybe?" Mason asked you.

"No, but I'll take a pop if the offer's still on the table."

"Sure." He ordered a pop for you and a beer for himself. "So, what's your name?" he asked.

"Layla," you answered. "Yours?"

"James."

"Nice to meet you James. You from around here?"

"Chicago born and raised. You?"

"Just here visiting family," you answered.

You had finished your pop by now and James noticed. "Want another one? Maybe a Captain and Coke this time?"

"Just a Coke's fine," you replied.

"Y/N, say you have to go to the bathroom and leave your phone on the table. We gotta get him getting alcohol to you at least," Jay said.

"Actually, I have to go use the ladies room." You got up, not before turning to him. "I'm expecting that Coke when I get back." You sent a wink his way.

Along with the wire and camera you had in your dress, you had also been given a UC phone so that it could record and take a video of things in case you had to leave.

James Mason had a feeling that you were going to be uptight about leaving with him, so he figured he'd solve it his own way. "Hey, she said a captain and Coke," Mason said to the bartender.

"Last I remember she said just a Coke," the bartender replied, doing his due diligence to make sure a girl who said she didn't want alcohol didn't get it.

"She told me she wanted some before she left," he argued.

"I didn't hear that."

"She whispered it," he growled.

Reluctantly, the bartender gave in and make a captain and Coke, switching it out for her previous stand-alone Coke.

"Mason just put alcohol in Y/N's drink," Jay said into his wire. "Y/N, whatever you do, make up an excuse not to drink it, or else our investigation goes down the toilet."

You looked under the stalls in the bathroom, making sure that no one was there before answering. "Got it. I think I'm gonna make the move to leave with him after. He'll think I'm not interested if I keep holding out."

"She's not getting in a car with him!" you heard Will yell. He was currently sitting in the van with Atwater and Burgess, watching this whole scene go down in case he needed to treat any injuries. "That's not the plan!"

"Will," Kevin started, "this is part of the plan. She just didn't tell you because she knew you wouldn't agree to let her do this if she told you."

"But what if she--"

"If you're gonna keep arguing, turn off your mics!" Voight yelled.

"Sorry, Sarge," Kevin apologized.

"When she leaves with this prick, me and Adam will follow them and Jay and Hailey will follow us. And before you can argue with me Jay because I know you will, I can't have you first on scene."

"Copy that," Jay said.

You exited the bathroom and walked back up to Mason. "Hey I was thinking," you started, running your hand up his arm. This made you want to vomit, but you knew you had to do this to help Emma. "maybe we should go back to your place?"

"You don't want to finish your drink?" he asked.

"No, we can get some at your house, can't we?"

"I guess I have a few things, vodka, tequila, beer."

"Alright, let's go." You grabbed his hand and you started walking to his car. You took a deep, shaky breath as you entered the passenger side. You closed the door, hoping this wouldn't cost you your life.

"Damn Halstead," Adam said, "your sister's good."

"Shut up," both Jay and Will said at the same time. If you weren't undercover, you would've laughed at them having the same response even though they weren't together at the moment.

Jay and Hailey entered Jay's truck, then proceeded to velcro their vests on over their clothes. "Jay, Hailey, you following?" Voight asked.

"Copy that," Jay said as he started his truck and began to drive. He knew he should be off this case, but here he was, adam's apple bobbing up and down, trying to stop from breaking down. It's his little sister in that car with a rapist. His little sister who he swore to protect from the moment she was born. His little sister who saw him as more of a father than their actual one. His little sister who used to come to him in the middle of the night for help finding her teddy bear when Will stole it. His little sister who he taught to drive. His little sister, who he was terrified to lose to this monster of a man.

"You okay?" Hailey asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he lied.

"No, you're not." Hailey paused, not wanting to pick a fight with him. "I know you're worried about her, Jay. But, we'll protect her. None of us will let anything happen to her. I promise."

"You can't make promises you can't keep, Hailey."

Back in the van, Will was seeing everything. And he wanted to explode. He saw Y/N clench her jaw the moment his hand touched her thigh, but then quickly regain her composure for the sake of the case. He knew she was uncomfortable, and it broke him that he couldn't do anything to stop it. It was his little sister in there. His little sister who he helped with her homework. His little sister who always stole his coffee. His little sister who spam texted him at four in the morning when she knew he had to be up for a long shift during his residency to make sure he wasn't late. His little sister who he had held as she cried when Jay left for his second tour in Afganistan. His little sister, who he couldn't allow anything bad to happen to.

"Where are we going?" Y/N asked, looking around at the rundown industrial part of the city they were entering.

"I make my own beer, so I'm just gonna make a quick pitstop," he answered as they pulled in behind an empty warehouse.

"I'm not so sure--"

In one swift motion, he pulled a gun from his waistband and held it to Y/N's head. The team heard a gasp through their wires.

"What's going on in there, Kevin?" Voight asked.

"He's got a gun to her head, Sarge."

"Screw the safe word, I'm moving in!" Jay yelled, but Hailey grabbed his hand.

"Halstead stand down! She hasn't said the safe word yet, so we are not moving in. Is that clear?" No answer. "I said, is that clear?" Voight repeated.

"Clear," Jay mumbled.

"Scream and I will blow your brains outta your pretty little head," Mason growled, pushing the gun further into your temple. "Now hold out your hands."

You held out your shaking hands and he put zip ties around your wrists. Tight, effectively tying them together.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

"Move." He pushed you forward and you walked through the black night and into the empty warehouse.

"Please," you pleaded as he pushed you forward still. "Please just let me go and we can pretend none of this happened."

"Too late now. I thought you wanted this." A sick smirk appeared on his face.

In your silent panicky state, you didn't see that there was a pipe on the floor and you tripped over it, scraping up your shin and barely catching yourself with your zip tied hands. You hissed as you hit the ground with a thud. "Didn't see that there, oops," Mason said sarcastically.

In the few seconds on the floor you had left, you reached into your dress and pulled out the lipstick, trying to upcap it while being discreet. Once you got the cap off, you tried to discreetly hide it in your hand, but were roughly pulled up by your hair, causing you to yelp and drop the knife.

"You stupid bitch!" he roared. "You thought you could try and get away from me!"

"No, no, I- I promise. I must've grabbed that by mistake when I grabbed my lipstick."

"Bullshit." Before you could react, you felt his fist connect with the side of your face.

You fell to the ground once more, catching yourself with your tied hands once more. But this time, it was harder, like you wrenched your wrist the wrong way. The pain stopped almost immediately though when you felt his boot-clad foot kick your back, effectively knocking the wind out of you and leaving you gasping for breath.

"I can't listen to this," Jay said, pulling out his wire.

"Jay, what are you--"

"Hailey, just tell me when she says the safe word or when we're told to move in, okay? I can't listen to him beat my sister."

Hailey sighed. "Okay, but you have to put it back in as soon as I tell you to."

"Fine," Jay huffed.

"What's her location?" Voight asked.

"As far as we know, they're still in the main space of the warehouse," Kim answered, looking at the video feed from the camera that was embedded in your dress. "They entered through the front, can you see a side or back entrance?"

"Ruzek and I got a side entrance. Upton and Halstead, I need you to go find a back entrance. And bring the snipers. Atwater and Burgess, you take the front. Stay on video for now. I'll tell you two when to exit the van and move in."

"Wire," Hailey said as she handed Jay's wire back to him. "Voight said to find a back entrace and bring the snipers."

Jay put his wire back in and they exited the truck and grabbed the snipers, in search of a back entrance.

You were roughly pushed down to the ground. He held you there. He reached for your dress and ripped it.

You felt your heart beating in your chest, but couldn't do anything except look into the eyes of your captor. You saw his blond hair wave wildly about as he breathed heavily with adrenaline and watched his lips twitch into a sick smirk. You wanted to kick him, try and fight back. But you couldn't, it was like you were frozen. You parted your lips to scream, but he covered your mouth, effectively shutting you up. It wouldn't have mattered anyway; you were frozen in your current state of shock.

"Sarge, something's wrong," Kevin said. "He pushed her to the gound, and ripped off her dress, but she didn't fight back. At all. She didn't even try to say the safe word before he covered her mouth."

"Frozen," Hank muttered to himself.

"What?" Ruzek asked.

"She's freezing!" he yelled into his radio. "There's fight and flight but there's also freeze, we gotta move in! Now!"

You stared up at James Mason. He kissed your neck roughly and then took his hand off your mouth and fiddled with the zipper of his pants.

"No," you whispered, almost inaudible, as that was as loud as your body would allow your voice to go. It took all your strength to yell, "Vodka--"

"Chicago PD!"

James Mason was ripped away from you, but you were still frozen.

You screamed as someone touched your arm. "Please, no, please," you begged.

"Y/N, Y/N come back," you heard someone say in a soft voice. "It's me, it's Jay, you're safe Short Stack, we're here."

At the mention of your nickname, a switch flipped inside you and you had control over your body again. "Jay?" You looked up.

"It's me."

"Y/N, I'm gonna cut these off you. Hold still, okay?" Burgess said and then cut the zip ties off your wrists.

"Here." Kevin quickly handed you his shirt to cover yourself up with.

"Thank you," you whispered, holding back tears.

"Can you stand up?" Jay asked a minute later.

You slowly nodded, taking his hand to help you stand up.

"We're gonna get you back to the district and let Will have a look at you, okay?"

Jay wrapped a hand protectively around your waist as he, Hailey, and you exited the building.

"Y/N!" Will yelled, running towards you. His loud voice made you flinch, which didn't go unnoticed by Hailey or Jay who shared a look.

He slightly crouched down to your height and enveloped you in one of the tightest hugs he had ever given and that you had ever received. "Ow," you squeaked as his arms wrapped around the very place Mason had kicked you.

"Sorry," he said, quickly letting go. "Pain scale, one to ten?"

"I- I don't know," you answered, the adrenaline haven't worn off yet.

"Let's get back to the district," Hailey said.

You all got into Jay's truck, with Jay and Hailey in the front, Jay driving of course, and you and Will in the back. You snuggled into Will's side, finally starting to realize how cold it was. Will started to move, but you whined. "Please don't leave me," you whispered.

"I'm not leaving you, I'm just giving you my jacket."

You nodded and Will removed his jacket and draped it over your legs. He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer.

"I'm sorry," you started to cry, the adrenaline finally starting to wear off.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, nothing at all," Will reassured you.

"If I would've said the safe word earlier--"

"Y/N, you were frozen. There was nothing you could do." Jay said, trying to keep his attention focused on the road. "None of this is your fault."

***

"I have an emergency overnight bag in my locker," Hailey said as soon as you entered Intelligence. "Come with me."

Slowly, you followed her into the locker room, to be met with a few beat cops. "Everybody out! Now!" Hailey commanded.

A few seconds later, it was only you and Hailey sitting in the locker room. "I was so scared," you said to Hailey, feeling a familiar lump begin to rise in your throat. "He almost- If I didn't- Hailey!" you wailed.

"Shhh, shhh, it's okay, it's okay." She paused. "Can I hug you?" she asked, knowing that the only people who touched you since the encounter were your brothers.

You nodded and she gave you a side hug and rubbed your back. When you didn't stop crying, she wrapped you in a hug and swayed back and forth. You ended up swaying along, too. You laughed.

"What's so funny?" she asked quietly.

"My mom used to do this to me when I was little. She said it was the only thing that actually calmed me down."

You stayed like that a moment longer. "I think I should change so that Will can check me out."

"I'll keep watch and make sure no one else comes in here."

When Hailey left the locker room, she was met with the Halstead brothers. Jay was crying. She'd never seen him cry before.

"The minute she yelled out Hailey, I just lost it, Will. If I would've just went in earlier, I could've stopped it. I'm supposed to protect her."

"We both are, Jay."

"Well, we both did a shitty job!"

Will reacted faster than he thought he could, catching Jay's hand before it slammed into the wall. "Y/N is right inside there. Don't do that."

Jay took a deep breath and just nodded. "Will?" The three turned when they heard a small voice.

"Hey kid," Will replied. "Let's get you patched up, okay?"

"Yeah."

"Me and Jay are gonna get some coffee," Hailey said. "Come get us if you need anything."

Will gave them a curt nod and then the two of you walked into the locker room. He unzipped his medical bag. After putting on some gloves, he walked over to the sink and got a washcloth wet. "Tell me if it's too hot, okay?"

"Okay."

He began to wipe the dried blood away from the left side of your face and then proceeded to put butterfly bandaids on both your eyebrow and cheekbone. "Follow the light with your eyes, don't turn your head."

You did as he said and followed the flashlight with your eyes. "Can you roll up your sweatpants?" he asked. "Just so I can take a look at your shin. That looked like a pretty nasty fall."

"You were watching?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"Since you saw, do you- do you know why I froze?" you asked weakly, looking down at your feet. "I thought I was stronger than that."

"Hey, hey, look at me, Y/N." You looked up at your brother. "You are one of the strongest people I know, okay? I don't know anyone else who would volunteer to do what you just did. You're a hero, Y/N. A true hero."

"Then why did I freeze up?"

"Everybody reacts to anxiety-provoking or traumatizing events differently. Some people just freeze. It's nothing to be ashamed of; it's just how your nervous system was wired."

He put a bandaid on your shin and felt around the area, causing you to wince. "The good news is that nothing's broken. But, you'll probably have some bruising tomorrow." You nodded in response. "We just gotta make sure we ice it. Now, I'm gonna have to lift up your shirt to look at your back," Will warned you.

"Can we get Hailey?"

"Of course."

He stood up and began to walk towards the door, when you stopped him. "I- I don't wanna be alone." You stood up and walked to him.

He wrapped his arm back around you again. "Don't worry, I'll protect you. You're also in a building full of cops, so I think you're in one of the safest places in the city."

You and your brother entered the bullpen, to be faced with all of Intelligence knee-deep in paperwork. "Hailey, can we borrow you for a sec?" Will asked.

"'Course."

"Okay, all I need you to do is lift up the back of Y/N's shirt...well, Kevin's shirt," Will said once the three were back in the locker room.

"I'm gonna lift this up now," Hailey told you. You nodded, letting her know you were ready.

Soon enough, you felt a stethoscope on your back. "Deep breath." You did so and then repeated the action a few times while Will moved the stethoscope around. "Lung sounds are good."

"So, no hospital?" you asked hopefully.

"No hospital, just lots of ice. You can put her shirt down now."

You stifled a yawn, exhaustion finally hitting you after the night you had. "I'll go get Jay and see if Voight'll let him leave. I don't see it being a problem," Hailey said before leaving.

"Hey Sarge, think you could let Jay get out of here?" Hailey asked.

"I gave him the option of leaving as soon as he came back in here."

"Why'd they need you?" Jay butted in.

"I just needed to lift up Y/N's shirt while Will checked out her back. And, no, she doesn't have to go to the hospital. But, she's exhausted."

"Sarge?"

"Go home, Jay."

***

"Y/N, you need to eat something," Jay pleaded.

You had been home for half an hour and all you had done was take a shower. Now you were staring down Jay because eating was the last thing you wanted to do. All you wanted to do was go in your room and sob into your pillow while Will was asleep on the living room couch and Jay was asleep in the room across from yours. You were afraid that if you ate something, you'd just end up throwing it up if you cried too hard...very irrational, but that was your thought process. And, besides, you weren't hungry anyway.

"I'm not hungry," you answered, moving the ice pack around on your shin.

"Listen, I don't care what you eat. Hell, you can eat Oreos for all I care."

"We have Oreos?"

"I hid them on the top shelf so you won't eat all of them because they're your favorite," Jay answered, heading over to the cabinet and grabbing the package. He put them back on the table, pulling them open. You took three and started to eat them.

"I'm gonna go to bed now," you said a few minutes later once you had finished the Oreos.

Will exited the bathroom at that exact moment. "You sure you don't wanna have a sleepover in the living room like we used to when we were little?" Will asked, going into big brother mode once again.

"I'm sure. I just want my own bed. Goodnight."

It had been a few hours and you had finally fallen into a restless sleep. Will was currently asleep on the couch, but Jay wasn't in his room like you expected him to be. He was sitting outside your room, drinking a cup of coffee. It was enough that it would keep him awake, but if he really wanted to sleep, he'd actually be able to. Jay knew how bad nightmares could be. He also knew how to wake someone out of a nightmare without getting himself injured if they tried to punch him, so he figured it would be best if he stayed up, just in case.

He started to hear more tossing and turning coming from your oom. It wasn't the usual sounds of someone trying to get in a comfortable sleeping position...even if they did have multiple injuries to contend with. It was the sound of not having conscious control of movement.

Slowly, as to not wake you yet, Jay opened your door. As he moved closer to you, he could see that your eyes were moving back and forth beneath your eyelids, a telltale sign of REM sleep, aka a dream sleep. Or, in your case, nightmare sleep.

"Y/N," he whispered. "Y/N, wake up." Gently, he touched your shoulder, causing you to jolt awake, your breathing jagged. "Y/N, it's just me. You're at home, it was all a dream," he quickly said.

"Jay?" you asked, darting your eyes around your dark room.

"Yeah." He noticed your breathing still hadn't evened out. "Breathe with me, okay?" Then, he overexaggerated his inhales and exhales, effectively getting your breathing back to normal. "You want the lights on?"

"Please."

Jay turned on your light and the sight he was met with absolutely broke his heart. Your eyes were red and puffy from crying and you had dark circles under your eyes from exhaustion. "I'm so tired. Why can't I just sleep?" you began to cry, this time it wasn't from fear or coming down from adrenaline, it was from pure exhaustion.

Jay sat on the other side of your bed. When you moved to push yourself up, you winced, pain shooting through your right wrist. "What's wrong? Is it your back? Leg?"

"No, it's my wrist," you answered. "I must've hit it harder than I thought when I fell."

"Need me to wake up Will?" you shook your head, no, you could move it. It was just sore and putting weight on it hurt, but you knew it wasn't broken or fractured. It didn't take a medical degree for you to know that. "Okay, I'll go get you some ice and ibuprofen."

Jay left your room and you stood up and grabbed a book from your bookshelf.

He came back into your room, carrying a glass of water, ice, a bottle of pills, and to your surprise, Oreos and a jar of peanut butter. "Figured a late-night snack never hurt anyone," he said, sitting down next to you once again.

"Thought you hated Oreos and peanut butter," you said, unscrewing the lid to the PB jar.

"I do, but you like it...even though it's disgusting."

"You can thank The Parent Trap for that one."

Jay chuckled but then sighed. "Listen, Y/N, if you have nightmares, you can always talk to me about them, okay?"

"Yeah." You shrugged.

"And I'm not just saying this because I'm your brother and it's my job," he continued. "I'm saying this because I know how it is."

"What do you mean?" you asked, furrowing your eyebrows while grabbing another oreo and dipping it in peanut butter.

"Remember when I got home from overseas and I wouldn't let you stay over late?"

"Yeah, always thought that was weird. But why are you bringing this up?"

"Because," he paused, wondering if he should actually tell you. "I'd have nightmares. And, if someone tried to wake me up, sometimes I'd still think I was there and I'd throw a few punches. I didn't want you over at night because I didn't want you to wake me up because I didn't want to hurt you.

"And, I didn't mean for it to go as far as it did tonight. I wanted to move in, but I couldn't--"

"I told Hailey to leave me in."

"You what?"

"I told Hailey to let him get rough with me before moving in. I just wanted you guys to have enough evidence so that Emma didn't have to testify against him."

"Testify? Y/N, what are you talking about?"

"I know how this goes, Jay. Not enough evidence, equals no case. And, we both know how hard rape cases are to prove. It's a he said she said. I- I just, I couldn't let my best friend relive the worst night of her life."

"Y/N, once we get him into interrogation tomorrow, he could take a deal. You don't know it's gonna go to trial."

You grabbed the pills next to you and popped an ibuprofen. "I know, but I knew I had to try and protect Emma...just like you and Will always try and protect me."

"When did you get so grown up?" Jay asked, putting an arm around you.

You shrugged, you wanted to say when your dad died, but you knew Jay didn't have the best relationship with him--neither did you for that matter--so you decided not to go there.

Jay looked down at the book next to you. "Prisoner of Azkaban? Thought you read it already?"

"I've read all of them. I thought, maybe you could read it to me? Like you did when I was little?"

You forgot how old you were when it started. You had to be in bed by eight o'clock on school nights, much to your dismay because as far as you knew, both of your brothers could stay up as late as they wanted. One night, you couldn't sleep and you knew your parents would just put you back to bed, so you peeked into Will's room. He was sitting on his desk, writing in a notebook. Assuming he was doing homework and not wanting to bug him, you hugged your teddy bear to your chest and walked to Jay's room, seeing as his light was still on as well.

Upon hearing his door creak open, Jay looked up from what he was reading. "Now what are you doing up?" Jay asked with a smile. "It's past your bedtime."

"But I'm not tired, Jay Jay," you whined, climbing on his bed to sit next to him. "That's a big book," you said, referring to the chapter book he held in his hands.

"It is. But you'll be able to read them soon, too!"

"I will?" you asked, cuddling your teddy bear, who you had named Teddy, to your chest. You looked up at your big brother with wide, hopeful eyes.

"Yes, you will."

"Will you read to me?"

"But you don't know what the book is about, silly."

"Then what's it about?" you asked curiously.

"It's about a wizard named Harry who has friends, Ron and Hermoine, and they have to fight the bad guys."

"Oooooh," you said excitedly. "Read it to me, Jay Jay."

"But we have to be quiet so we don't wake up Mommy and Daddy. Because then you have to go to your room."

"Okay, shhh," you put a finger to your lips.

"That's right, shhh," he mimicked, reopening his book to the previous page he was on.

You snuggled down into the covers with Teddy and listened to Jay tell you the story of Harry Potter and this guy named Sirius. Within five pages though, you were asleep.

"Course I'll read to you," he answered, taking an Oreo.

"Mine," you joked, swatting his hand away.

"Last I checked, I bought them. And, you didn't even know we had them until earlier."

You huffed. "Fine."

And just like when you were little, you fell asleep within one chapter.

***

"I'm here to see Intelligence," Emma said as she walked up to the desk sergeant in the 21st District the next morning.

"And you are?" Trudy Platt asked, annoyance laced in her voice, after all, it was only 8:30 on a Monday morning.

"Uh, I'm Emma. I'm here to make an ID," she answered timidly.

"Oh, so you're Emma!" Emma gave Platt a confused look, how did she know who she was? "Y/N's here a lot, so I've heard a lot of good things about you. You two are thick as thieves."

"That we are," Emma answered with a small smile.

Platt picked up the phone and dialed Jay's extension. "Halstead, Emma's down here to see you."

"Copy that, be right there," he answered. Then, he turned to Hailey. "Emma's here to make an ID. Mind telling Voight to get a lineup ready?"

"Got it," Hailey answered and then Jay left the bullpen.

"Hey, Emma," he said as he jogged downstairs. Normally he'd go and hug her since she was like another little sister to him and Will because of how long she and you had been best friends, but after everything that had happened, he knew to keep his distance.

"Hey, Jay," she answered.

"Where's your mom?"

"Oh, she got called in. You know how it is for first responders," Emma shrugged. Her mom was a paramedic and was first on scene, so Jay understood how demanding it was.

"Are you sure you're okay to do this alone?" Jay asked, concerned once they were up in the bullpen. "I can always text Y/N so that she can be here with you?"

"No, thanks though."

"Hailey, lineup ready?" Jay asked.

"Yeah, Voight's in there already. I'll come with you."

Jay and Hailey led Emma into the room. "You can see them, but they can't see you," Jay told her. "Just take as long as you need; there's no rush." Emma nodded. "Ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," Emma answered nervously.

Voight knocked on the glass and Kevin let the men in the lineup enter. Emma looked at them one by one, her heart beating out of her chest. When her eyes landed on number three, her breath hitched and she turned to Jay. "Number three."

"Are you sure?" He put a hand on Emma's shoulder comfortingly, just like he'd do for Y/N if she were here.

"I'm positive. I'm gonna--"

Before she could finish her sentence, Jay's black t-shirt had vomit dripping down the front. Y/N has nightmares, Emma vomits. That's how it's always been, whenever Emma got overwhelmed or nervous, she'd puke. Same for Y/N, but with nightmares.

"I'm so sorry, Jay," she apologized, feeling tears of embarrassment prick her eyes.

"Hey, it's okay, it's okay," he rushed, not wanting to make her feel even the slightest bit bad. "This isn't even the worst thing I've been covered in. I've got a change of clothes in my locker, so don't worry about it."

"C'mon, Emma," Hailey said. "Let's get you some water."

***

You were brushing your teeth when your phone vibrated on the counter next to you.

I just puked on your brother. Please come down now.

"Oh my God," you laughed after spitting out your toothpaste and then leaving the bathroom.

"Well that's a nice sound," Will said as he sat at the table, sipping his morning coffee. After everything that happened last night, he didn't know if he'd ever hear his little sister laugh again because all he's heard since last night are her worried voice and quiet sobs.

"Emma just puked on Jay!"

Will almost choked on his coffee. "Did someone get a picture?"

"Probably not. Good to leave in 15?" Jay didn't want you driving alone after what happened last night, and since you didn't get a lot of sleep, you didn't blame him for that. So, Will was going to drop you off at the district before his shift at Med started. He tried to get someone to cover it, but it was the middle of flu season, so no one could.

Will nodded and half an hour later you walked into the district. "Hey Trudy," Will said, waving to the desk sergeant. "Buzz us up?"

For once, Trudy didn't give either of you a snide remark, she just unlocked the gate to the bullpen and let you up.

"Sleep at all?" Kim asked as soon as she saw you.

"Not really," you answered truthfully. "Anyone know where Emma is?"

"Last I saw she was in the breakroom with Hailey and your brother." Will looked up. "Your other brother, the one who works here," Kim specified.

"Thanks, Kim."

You entered the breakroom to see Emma sitting at the table on her phone with Jay and Hailey. "Hey, Em," you said as you sat down next to her.

"Hey," she answered.

"I gotta go," Will said.

"Thanks for bringing her. Now go save some lives," Jay said and then hugged his brother.

Emma furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "You didn't drive yourself?"

"Why don't you guys go grab yourselves coffee or something? On me," Jay said and then pulled out his wallet and handed you some money.

You knew what this was. He wanted you and Emma to have a chance to talk alone without the threat of people walking in on your conversation. "Can we take your truck? It's freezing out, Jay," you said.

"You've never driven it before," he pointed out. "And, are you sure you're awake enough to drive?"

"I'll be fine. The coffee shop is just a few blocks away."

He sighed and pulled out his keys. "Fine, but no speeding."

"Copy that, detective," you joked, causing him to roll his eyes. "You want anything? This is more than enough to get us coffee and you and Hailey something, too."

"Yeah, sure. Surprise me. Hailey likes--"

"Just black. I know. Thanks for the money."

Then, you exited the district with Emma behind you. "What was that all about? Why was he so worried about you? I mean, more worried than usual that is," Emma said once both of you were safely inside Jay's truck.

"Are you sleeping?" you asked, trying to change the subject.

"Yeah, it's just hard to get to sleep."

"Well, if you need to talk, call me okay? I barely slept at all last night."

"What? Why?

You sighed, knowing there was no way you could get out of this conversation. And, you knew that Emma deserved the truth and she deserved to hear it from you. But, if you were going to tell this story, you knew that you shouldn't be driving while doing so.  "They needed more proof to charge the guy that raped you, Emma. So, I volunteered to go undercover."

"Y/N, you didn't."

"I did. I'm fine though."

"Is that why your makeup is so thick on one side? Did he hit you?"

"I guess I'm telling you the whole story, then." And so, before you even started driving, you told your best friend everything that happened to you.

Meanwhile, back inside, Jay and Hailey were giving James Mason hell on your behalf. "Lawyer," Mason stated calmly.

"The minute you get a lawyer in here, James, all of your help from us goes out the window, so if I were you, I'd start talking," Hailey told him, crossing her arms.

"Lawyer."

"Listen here, Mason," Jay spat. "We have you on video hitting and trying to rape that girl from last night. We have you on video trying to give alcohol to said girl who is a minor. So if I were you, I'd talk. Not that you're going to get a deal, though."

"What part do you not understand? The law or the yer?" He moved to stand up, but Jay roughly shoved him back down.

"Sit your ass back down now."

"This is police misconduct!" he yelled. "I'll sue all of you!"

"Yeah, good luck with that. It's awfully hard to sue from a prison cell. And that's where you're gonna be spending the rest of your life."

Hailey pulled out some pictures. It was Emma in the hospital after she had been raped. "You recognize her?"

"Never seen her before," he said, not even glancing at the picture.

"Look at the damn pictures!" Jay slammed his hands on the table. He wanted to break this prick's neck, but he didn't want to lose his job over this prick either.

Mason looked down at the pictures and he started to smirk. "Don't know her."

"Yeah, that look on your face says otherwise. And, the DNA we got from under her fingernails says that you were the person who did this."

"That's impossible!" He yelled, jumping out of his seat.

"And why is that?" Jay's face was so close to Mason's that Mason could almost feel the spit coming from Jay's mouth as he yelled back at him.

"Because she was tied up!"

"We never mentioned anything about her being tied up, James. And, that sounds like something only the person who did this would know," Hailey said calmly, knowing that they had him. James Mason sat back down.

"You know what they do in prison to people like you?" Jay asked rhetorically. "As soon as word gets out about your charges, one of the big tough guys in there is gonna make you his bitch. They don't like rapists in prison, Mason. They'll get you in the showers, anywhere. They'll use anything they can find, a mop, soap, anything. But, if you cooperate with us, we'll make sure that you don't have to go into general population and that what I just mentioned won't happen. So, what do you say?"

"Fine!" Mason yelled. "I did it! I raped her and I enjoyed it, too! Seeing her struggle just made it even better and seeing the fear in her eyes when I held the gun to her head and told her that if she screamed, she'd die, well that was the best part."

Jay roughly pulled him back up. "C'mon, let's go."

Emma had stopped to go the bathroom but said she'd meet you back up in the bullpen as soon as she was done. You started to walk up the stairs when you heard someone yelling, telling another person to move. It sounded like your brother.

You looked up and it was as if you had forgotten how to move. Right in front of you, stood the man who did all of those horrible things to you last night. You wanted to run away, to spit in his face, anything to get away from him, but you couldn't move. You were shocked you hadn't dropped the drink carrier you were holding, either.

"You bitch!" He yelled.

Before Jay knew it, he swung. He didn't care that there were cameras or that he was a cop. At that moment, you mattered more to him than this job. No one called you a bitch in front of your brother and got away with it.

"Jay!" Voight yelled. "Let go!"

Jay let go of Mason and roughly pushed him over to Voight. Gently, he grabbed your arm. "Y/N, can you come upstairs with me?" he asked quietly.

"What?" you had snapped out of your frozen state but hadn't registered what Jay had said.

"I asked if you can come upstairs with me?"

"Uh, yeah. Here's your coffee by the way," you handed him the caramel mocha you had picked out for him.

"This tastes more like hot chocolate than coffee," he joked.

"I promise it's got caffeine. And, I'll go ask Platt for that footage to be erased. She likes me more than you."

***

It's been a week since everything has happened and you and Emma were slowly coming to terms with the fact that what happened, happened. You still got nightmares and Emma still had trouble sleeping, so she drank coffee like it was water. Jay finally felt comfortable to leave you alone, after changing the pin to the safe, though. He knew what thoughts went through people's heads when they went through a major trauma like you and Emma. And, he didn't want to lose either of you.

Voight walked upstairs to Intelligence and he did not look happy, to say the least. "Halstead. Upton. My office," he ordered.

Both gave the other a confused look but followed their boss.

"What's up, Sarge?" Jay asked as he closed the door.

"What's up? What's up is we don't have a case!" Voight practically yelled but quieted down because he didn't want the rest of the unit to think something was wrong, not yet anyway.

"We just got a case this morning. What are you--"

Voight slammed his hands on his desk. "Not this case, dammit! Your sister's case!"

"We got a confession! What's wrong with it?" Hailey asked, watching as Jay clenched his jaw in frustration.

"He asked for a lawyer and you didn't give him one!"

"That's never stopped us before! And it's damn rich coming from you!" Jay pointed an accusing finger at his boss.

"Jay," Hailey said, placing a hand on his chest and gently pushing him back before he did something he'd later regret. "So, what happened, Sarge?"

"What happened is that we needed that confession."

"We have the DNA from under Emma's fingernails and it's a match to Mason's. And we have a positive ID from the lineup," Hailey said, wondering how the hell they needed that confession to make the case when they had two pieces of evidence against him.

"The problem is that his lawyer's arguing that the DNA under the nails was from consensual sex and the lineup is just because she saw him before! We can still make Y/N's case because we have video and audio evidence of the entire thing, but there's no case against Mason when it comes to her friend."

"So, we bring him back in, this time with his lawyer," Jay suggested.

"No. You're way too close this case, Jay," Voight told his detective.

"So what do we do?" Hailey asked.

"Emma will have to testify."

"Testify?" Jay ran a hand down his face and walked across the room and sat on the couch. "You saw what happened when she made a positive ID, Sarge. She can't go through that again. And, Y/N will have to testify too since she's a material witness. We can't put them through this. We just can't."

"How much would he get if we just press charges for Y/N's case?" Hailey asked.

"With the attempted sexual charge, assault charge, and distribution of alcohol to a minor, he'd be looking at five years. But, he'd probably be out in three."

"Shit," Jay muttered. "I gotta go. I gotta be the one to break the news to the girls." He yanked Voight's office door open and quickly grabbed his coat.

"Hailey, go with him. And don't take no for an answer because I don't trust him enough to just tell them and do nothing."

"Copy you, Sarge."

Hailey left and grabbed her jacket, running down the stairs and out of the 21st, just in time to catch Jay. "I'm coming with you. And it's not up for discussion."

You and Emma were sitting on the living room floor, each working on your respective assignments for school when the door opened, causing both of you to jump. "Jay? Hailey? What are you guys doing here?" you asked, wondering why Jay was home at only nine in the morning and why Hailey was with him.

Jay grabbed a bowl from the cupboard and set it on the table. "What's that for?" you asked.

"Come sit at the table. Me and Hailey have to tell you something. Something really important. The bowl's for Emma."

"What's going on?" Emma asked as she sat down.

"We can't make your case against Mason," Hailey said.

"What do you mean you can't make the case?" you asked.

And then they launched into why they can't make the case. "So let me get this straight," you said after they finished. "We can't make the case because you fucked up?"

"We've done it hundreds of times, Y/N. It just didn't work this time," Jay said quietly.

"But Emma's case isn't just one of those hundreds, Jay! How did you let this happen? She's not gonna testify, and you know this!" you yelled, speaking as if Emma wasn't even there. "I mean look at her!" You motioned to Emma who was hunched over the bowl in front of her, trying to keep her food down.

Emma looked up. "How long would he get for what he did to Y/N?"

"He'd do three years," Hailey answered.

"Three years? That's it? That bastard deserves life!" You knew if it were any other day, Jay would've told you to watch your language. But, it wasn't just any other day.

"I know, I know he does, Y/N," Jay agreed loudly. "We'd get Peter Stone, one of the best attorneys around and he'd prep you and Emma so well that there's no way this case could go under!"

"Wait, Y/N has to testify, too?" Emma asked.

"As a material witness, yes, she would have to testify," Hailey answered.

"No, we're not doing this," Emma said adamantly. "Maybe he'll change in prison, okay? I can't put her through this."

"Emma, I can handle it. But, if you don't want to do this, just tell me. I won't blame you at all."

Emma took a deep, shaky breath. "I can't. I'm sorry." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she jumped up and made a beeline for the bathroom.

"So, Mason does five years, out in three," Jay said, looking at his sister.

"That's it? You're just giving up?" you yelled, standing up and walking over to your brother.

"Y/N, there's nothing else we can do. I'm sorry."

"Oh don't give me that I'm sorry bullshit! You fucked this up, so you're gonna fucking fix it!"

***

"What'd she say?" Voight asked as soon as Hailey and Jay entered the district once more.

"She's not testifying," Hailey answered.

"Sarge, are you sure there's nothing else we can do? You know as well as I do that this monster doesn't deserve to take another breath as a free man."

"Listen, let me make some calls and I'll see what I can do."

Voight picked up his phone and dialed a familiar number. "Tyler, it's Hank Voight."

"Hey Hank, what can I do for you?" Tyler answered into one of the blue phones in the county jail.

"How's your son doing?"

"He doing good. I miss him though. My girl sent me some pictures of him yesterday though."

"That's good. That's really good. Mind if I see those pictures tomorrow during visiting hours?"

"It'd be a welcome visit, Hank."

***

"200k and we have a deal," Tyler said to Hank as they sat at one of the cold, metal tables in the visiting room.

"150," Voight argued, increasing the payout 50k.

Tyler sat there for a moment, thinking it over. "150k would be able to pay for his house or college. And, hey, I'm stuck here for life anyway. You got yourself a deal."

"Money'll be in a trust fund a few months after, just to be safe." The two shook on the deal and Hank left.

***

There was a knock at the door as you, Jay, and Emma were eating dinner. She had come over to your house once more to do homework and Jay picked up some food on his way home from work.

"I got it," Jay stood up and pushed his chair in.

"Sarge? What are you doing here?" Jay asked.

"Are the girls here?"

"Yeah, they both are. Come in. What's going on?"

"Hi, Y/N," Voight greeted you. "Emma, Sargent Hank Voight, we met a week ago."

"Yes, I remember you," Emma replied.

"What's up, Sarge? It's gotta be important if you came over here."

"James Mason was killed in county."

You dropped your fork. "What?" Jay asked, as stunned as both you and Emma. "When?"

"About an hour ago. I figured that you should be the first to know."

"Wow," Emma breathed out.

"I gotta go, though," Voight said.

Jay walked him to the door and followed him out onto the front steps. "Please tell me you didn't do what I think you did?" Jay asked.

"If you're asking me if I killed that man, no Jay, I didn't do that."

"Do you know who did?" Jay asked, not being able to believe that this was just a coincidence.

"Tyler," was all Voight said.

"Tyler? As in the Tyler we put away for a double homicide six months ago?"

"That's the one."

"And you had nothing to do with it? Because if IAD finds out anything against you--"

"Jay, I had nothing to do with it. Tyler must've found out the charges and killed him just like he killed the two men who raped his sister."

"You don't really expect me to believe that, do you?"

"He's gone, Jay. Those girls can sleep peacefully now. Just let it be and be there for Y/N. None of this will come back to me."

"Why didn't you tell me? I'd gladly put a bullet in that bastard's head!"

"I know you. You do everything with your heart. And that's what makes you a good cop, a good detective, and a great brother to your little sister, Jay. I know you couldn't live with yourself if you did it. Now, go back inside before your food gets cold."

Voight turned and left, leaving Jay wondering how the hell this happened. But he knew one thing: No one would find out about this. Y/N wanted justice for Emma and she got justice, even if it wasn't the right way to go about it.

Later that night, Emma fell asleep within fifteen minutes, the first time in a week and a half that she had fallen asleep that fast. Y/N slept soundly without any nightmares for the first time in a week and a half. And Jay slept in his own bed, instead of slumped against the hallway wall, waiting for the inevitable when he'd have to comfort his sister. He wouldn't admit it, but he was thankful for what Voight did for him. He always said family was everything and he was right. You were Jay's family and Jay was a member of Voight's Intelligence family. Because of this, you were a part of the Intelligence family, too. And, Voight would do anything for family...even if it meant putting 150k in a trust fund for Tyler's son so that you and Emma could both sleep through the night and move on with your lives.

A/N comment and tell me what you think!

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@xhaliemax @alievans007 

[russian-romanova]

the one that got away

title: the one that got away

pairing: joe goldberg

warnings: adult language, spoilers for season two of ‘you’, very brief mentions of violence 

notes:  joe’s pov. i haven’t gotten anything out there in a while, so here’s this. 

summary: it’s been years since you ran out on your high school boyfriend joe goldberg. now that he’s seen you again, maybe it’s time to find out if your instincts were right. 

+      +      +

There was a part of me that had forgotten about you. I would go months without thinking about you, but then the strangest things would conjure up an image of you or your name would ring in my ears for a moment or two before passing out again. So don’t make the mistake of thinking I forgot about you, Y/N. I never forgot. Not really. 

We dated in high school, which doesn’t mean much at face value. High School relationships are the ones that are the most fragile when boys can’t control their own body parts and girls don’t seem to know the word ‘boundary’. The teen couples that come into Mooney’s are the worst relationships, where they hold hands and kiss every time they turn a corner. It takes all I have not to turn them away.

But we were… different. We were good, and we took it slow. I was quiet and you were sweet, and God, I don’t think I could ever recreate that high I would get when I walked into school and would see you waiting at my locker, reading some book I had given you or eating some breakfast dessert. We didn’t rush anything, we were slow and steady friends more than anything, at least before we kissed. And when we did kiss, it wasn’t bumbling or awkward like teenage kisses should be. It was perfect, Y/N. Like it was meant to be.  

You know why I’m bringing this up. I saw you at some supermarket the other day, in LA. It wasn’t Anavrin or any of those frighteningly strict healthy eating markets. It was just some supermarket I went to in search of some food I had been thinking about, and I saw you in the cereal aisle. You didn’t see me, Y/N, although I wasn’t sure if you would have even recognized me. You had a box of ‘Cinnamon Toast Crunch’ in one hand and a box of whatever the generic brand was in the other. I watched you for a moment, turn the first box over, then the second, before sighing and adding the generic one to your cart. I turned my body so you couldn’t see my face as I waited, only turning once I was sure you had left the aisle the opposite way of me. 

Trust me, Y/N, I almost couldn’t believe my eyes. I had to double-take to even think it was you, and then I ended up staring at you for a full five seconds before I remembered where I even was. A supermarket. In LA. 

Really, the strangest part was that I had been in LA for around a month and hadn’t somehow caught wind of you. Sure, LA’s a big city, perfect for disappearing -- I should know -- but I have a sixth sense for these sorts of things. It helps that I’ve been trying to stay away from you, really, I stopped searching your name on the internet long ago and I’ve been trying to push you out of my mind. 

Still --  I see in you in all of their eyes. Candace. Beck. Love. 

Then you pushed your cart away from me and left behind the corner. I trailed behind you for a while, because how are you supposed to see your high school sweetheart and just forget about it? You picked out black beans and condiments, grabbed crackers and milk. Then you were gone. 

But I knew you were in LA, and that got me through a while. I was distracted at work, distracted with Love. Even Ellie knew something was off, and of course, I couldn’t tell any of them about you, Y/N. I made up some lie about work or the news, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I wondered if you shopped every Tuesday afternoon if I would have a chance of seeing you again if I waited there next week. If you saw me first, would you interact? Would you know what I was doing and confront me or would you leave and hope that I didn’t see you? Would you see me at all?

No, I knew that I had to find you before then, preferably someplace where I wouldn’t look like some random creep approaching a pretty girl. I had to do my research. 

I didn’t know whether to be impressed or disappointed when I discovered both an Instagram and a Facebook account that were both private. You were aware of security, at least a little. You had a public twitter account, but nothing you posted on there really pertained to you on a personal level, mostly retweets about characters or politics. 

Roughly three weeks ago, you had retweeted some comedic tweet about the benefits of being single. This was a good sign, Y/N. My expectations were set low, but the more I learned about you, the higher they became. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, about our high school years, and how happy we both were. We could be like that again. 

I was about to give up on the social media scour when I saw an Instagram account linked to your twitter account, completely different from the one I had already stumbled upon. This one was a much vaguer account, with some photos you must have taken, mostly of other people or of aesthetically pleasing nature views or buildings. The photographs that caught my eye the most -- and I’m sure you understand why, Y/N -- were the ones of Farmington Park and the one of a house front. The house numbers were blurred out, but it wasn’t that hard to trace around on Google Earth. I extended the view and followed the roads surrounding Farmington Park, making the assumption that you were near to it judging by the amount of photots you had posted of it, until I found the house that seemed the most familiar, the one that matched up perectly with the photograph. Bingo.

You should be more careful, Y/N. 

✾ ✾ ✾

And so I wait. I see you again, but no longer by accident. I don my jacket and cap, and I wait at the bench near your house -- just a man reading a book, nothing anyone will pay too much attention to. I see you leave your house, which I’m relieved to see you walk out of. I’ve been wrong in the past, and it’s the worst possible feeling I could imagine. But you looked right at me, Y/N. The second day, you walked out of your bright red door and made direct eye contact with me. I have sunglasses on, so I don’t know if you can tell I’m looking back, but you stare at me for a few seconds, and then you move on. I worried you had maybe seen me, but the next day I returned and you didn’t think much of it. 

Tuesdays and Thursdays is when you went to the park. As the sunsets, to get those stereotypical sunset photos, I presume, and you stay until late on Tuesday nights because you have Wednesdays off. It’s abandoned by the time it’s nine pm, the perk of small parks in big cities. So I waited until I was ready, until I thought you would be ready, and then I decided it was time to meet you. 

8:42 on a Tuesday night, and I’ve never been more terrified before. I sit in the grass and watch you as the people slowly go home, watching you on your phone and messing with your camera. I notice for the first time, the green bracelet on your arm, which I recognize instantly, because I gave you that bracelet, Y/N. In high school, for your birthday. I gave it to you years ago, and you still wear it. 

That almost gives me hope.

I had a plan. Once it was empty enough, I took off my hat and sunglasses, and I just sat there. You needed to come to me, to feel comfortable enough to do so. It was going to be an accident that I was here, nothing creepy. Nothing to feed your worries or stresses. I wasn’t a worry, I was a comfort that was reappearing after years and years. 

When you saw me, your froze. You just stood there, unmoving and possibly unbreathing, frozen in a moment either now or in the past, mind racing and heart too fast. I waited for you, patiently. It was hard to not run up to you, to talk to you unprompted. But I had waited this long, I could wait a few minutes more.

Finally, you spoke. “What are you doing here?” 

I looked up, feigning surprise. “Oh my God, Y/N,” I closed my book and stood up, smiling as if I had no idea you still existed. “What are you doing in LA?”

“Cut the bullshit. I saw you the other day. At least, I thought I saw someone that looked just like you, and now I’m pretty fucking sure that was you, Joe. This can’t be happening. This isn’t-” You trailed off, mumbling to yourself. Your were suspitious, but I could work with suspicious. 

“You saw me? Seriously? Where was it?” I laugh as if I’m more confused than you are, still confused and surprised. Keep it up, Joe. Patience. “Why didn’t you-”

“Stop it. You were-” You stopped talking, your eyes widening a little at the absurdity of the situation. “You looked at me, Joe. I know you’re lying, so cut the bullshit. Be honest.”

I think it over for a minute. “I didn’t know if it was actually you or not.” I say, a little bit quieter. I feel like a kid again, and we haven’t even been talking for a minute. 

“Honest,” You repeated. “I’m not new to your games, Joe. Where did you see me first?”

“The bus stop,” I say, maintaining eye contact. You give me your ‘bullshit’ look, and I realize nothing has changed. I almost smile before I remember what’s happening, that I need to work fast and convince you. I can’t lose you again, not now that I’ve found you. “The bus stop,” I reaffirm, before adding. “Nice bracelet.” 

And I’ve changed the subject. 

“I need to go home,” You say, sounding tired and frantic. 

I take a step forward. “Let me walk you,”

“No, Joe.” You say loudly at first, and then repeat it a little softer. 

“Please, Y/N,” I say in a tone that we both know is close to a beg. You look at me with those big fucking eyes and I hope I’m making the same expression back. The puppy dog eyes are something we’ve both mastered. 

“Joe, I don’t love you anymore.” You say suddenly, and you throw your hands out to either side as if that’s it. As if that’s enough to satisfy me and it answers all my questions. 

“Then why are you still wearing the bracelet?” I’m begging you now, pleading with you and I hate my own tone of voice. 

You glance down at it as if you’ve forgotten about it. There’s a pause as you think for a moment, searching for words or for a lie. I’m frozen when I stand. “It’s not because I love you. It’s to remember.” You look up at me again, and your eyes aren’t just big anymore, they’re teary now. A part of me still wants to run to you, to tell you that it’s okay, but I know I can’t. “You killed me, Joe. Or you might as well have. I’m mourning her. I can’t forget her.”

Any act is long gone. We both know what you’re talking about, about all the conversations we had where you had tried to break up with me and I convinced you, about all the looks your had given me when I did something that would send off a red flag. “I didn’t, Y/N. I wouldn’t have. I was so careful with you.” 

You look at me in a way I’ve never seen before. “I hid. I shouldn’t have had to hide. I changed so much about me, about who I was because I was scared you would find me somehow, I don’t know.” You run a distressed hand through your hair.

“Why? Why were you so scared of me, Y/N? I was just some kid in love. I loved you so much. I love you so much.” I take a step towards you.

You match it with one back, putting up a distressed hand. “Stop, Joe. Stop. I’m not doing this, okay? All of these things about you pointed to terror for me and I went with my gut because you hear all of these horror stories about girls and their boyfriends and it was better safe than sorry and-“ You sniff, wiping your nose with the back of your hand. You’re crying and I didn’t even realize it. “And I am sorry, Joe. I really am, but we both know that’s what I needed to do.” And you’re right, Y/N, and it would be a lie to deny it. I didn’t have to do anything to you and you knew who I was. No one has ever understood as well as you. 

I am hurt as you look at me, somehow pained yet strong. “I’m sorry,” Is all I can manage out, and you don’t respond. 

“I need to go home,” You say finally. “You do too, Joe. This is out there now, and we can move on. Okay? Don’t try to find me again.”

“But I can’t forget about you.” I don’t know if I’m making excuses or being honest anymore. For a split second, I think about lunging at you, grabbing you or striking you or something -- but then I remember that this isn’t just anyone. This is you. Candace, Beck, Love, they’re all modelled after you. I think that’s all I’m working for, is you again. Yet I respect you too much to treat you like them, and I love you too much to really let you go. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do anymore. 

“Then don’t,” You look at me with calm eyes. “Then don’t forget about me. It’s better to remember, but to keep it somewhere just out of reach. It’s not like I could forget you, Joe. You were a part of my life,” You admit. “No matter how bad, you can’t forget something like that.” 

And that’s all you need to say. No goodbye, no farewell greeting. You turn and walk away.

And I let you, Y/N. 

For the first time in my life, I watch someone walk away from me, and that’s it. Out of everyone, I hate that it’s you leaving yet I’m happy that we ended it like this. I watch your wrist swing slightly as you walk, the stringy ends of the bracelet swinging along with it. I think of what you said, about remembering, and I know there’s some truth there. I’ve felt it before, the need to remember Candace and Beck long after I had thought they were gone. For them -- and for me.

But as you turned the corner for the final time, something in me pulls at my senses, telling me what I already know is true.  Your words ring in my mind one final time, but I know you’re wrong this once. 

Sometimes, Y/N, it’s better not to remember, but to forget.