#i ALWAYS ask people (politely ofc) to put their phones away and they almost always do so immediately

[lalalaugenbrot]

also while I'm at it, when in the cinema, you do not have to:

check your messages

check your mail

check insta

post insta stories about being in the cinema

watch tiktoks

comment tiktoks

do online shopping (the horrors I see)

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

shit-head!bakugou hcs

*the following is a varied but not in any way exhaustive list of all the shit bakugou pulls on the daily when ur his s/o

-okay, so to start, let’s get one thing straight: bakugou likes when you yell at him. he does. he thinks it’s funny when you’re annoyed and pretty damn hot when you’re pissed at him, so he spends all day, every day, trying to needle a reaction out of you. bc he’s a hot-head with a mischevious streak n absolutely no impulse control when it comes to you. obviously.

-alright so, he probably pulls your hair to get your attention. not, like, hard or anything, it doesn’t hurt, but you’d still 100% prefer if he maybe just didn’t

-bakugou moves your things when you’re not looking,, not very far or in difficult to find places, but he’ll still do it just to be annoying. laughs under his breath every single time you yell at him for it

-will occasionally come up and hug you from behind. it’s very unusual for him so ur ‘???’ about it at first. then he’s nuzzling and kissing ur neck softly so you just kinda accept it and melt into being 🥰 about it. then he bites. not a cute bite, not a sexy bite, literally just chomps down and bites. u squeal/squirm bc obviously. he just laughs at the reaction he wanted and then leaves the room entirely. without apologizing or saying anything bc he’s an asshole

-ruffles your hair after you’ve just done it

-will pluck your phone out of your hands. not for any reason, he’ll just walk by and snatch it,,, probably does so for the entire reason of wanting you to yell at him

-intentionally mispronounces your name when he introduces you to people he finds unimportant. bakugou just thinks the look on your face is funny,,, n he doesn’t give a shit bc the person is beneath him and that means they don’t deserve to know your real name anyways

-if y’all are at a social gathering and he doesn’t want to be there anymore, he’ll start saying his goodbyes almost immeadiately. then he’ll go around and say your goodbyes for you, so when he’s pulling you out the door nobody says anything about your sudden exit

-will chug your entire drink while your turned around. probably says some “wow. should probably fill this up, idiot.” while holding up the glass with a shit-eating grin

-picks you up. just sweeps your feet out from under you just to place you back down. idk he likes chaos n there’s nothing more chaotic then ur flailing limbs and squawking when he does so

-if you’re in your bedroom reading when bakugou wants to go to bed, he’ll turn the lights off regardless of what you’re doing. if you complain and get up to turn them on again, he’ll leave them on and won’t do anything else or even complain,,, but most times you don’t want to get up, don’t want to make the effort so you just leave them off. bakugou knows this. it’s why he turns them off in the first place.

-if you’re laying on the couch, taking up all the room, and bakugou wants to sit, he won’t lift your feet into his lap. no, he’ll just sit on them. will just sit on them until you give up your yelling and move to make room for him

-when he’s bored he likes to bicker for entertainment. so whatever you’re doing at the time he’ll just attack sayin sum like “jesus, don’t you know how fucking stupid that is? i’d never do that.” n ur just like, watching tv pls kill him he’s so annoying

-will fling hairbands/scrunchies at you while you’re doing your nightly routine. does this bc, in his eyes, you’re taking too long and bakugou just wants to go to sleep

-complains when u wear clothes he doesn’t like the feel of. like, if it feels itchy/scratchy against his skin when he hugs u, bakugou will let you know how much he dislikes it. loudly

-offers you food just to pull his plate away when you reach for it ,, then sits there saying “god, i really am the best fuckin chef. this shit’s delicious. woulda shared too, but it didn’t seem like you wanted it enough.” ,, all said while smirking ofc

-when you hug he’ll intentionally breathe against the shell of your ear. does this so he can make fun of you when you shiver/squirm

-says shit like “hey, i had the best fuckin’ dream last night.” n u go ‘??? what was it?’ n bakugou will look you dead in the eyes, straight-faced n just go “you went mute. shit was paradise.” ,,, 🙄 give him the silent treatment after babes, he’ll be whining and bitching and taking it back by hour 2

-will lay directly on top of you if he doesn’t want you to leave the bed in the morning. will just flop, dead-weight onto you until you stop struggling. then he’ll make fun of you if you fall asleep again. bc he’s a dick.

-he won’t eat your food, but he’ll act like he did. so you’ll get home from work, and u’ve been thinking about your leftover take out all day, right, n bakugou will sneak up behind you while you’re searching for the food in the fridge. he’ll push the fridge closed with a hand near your head n lean in to say some “don’t bother. ate it already, dumbass. wasn’t great.” against ur ear. pls when you turn around pissed at him he’ll just laugh, push you away from the fridge and take out the food and hand it to you. he never ate it. he never does. he just likes when you think he did and yell at him for it

-keeps a running list, in his phone, of words you’ve misused/mispronounced. will recite all of them at you just because he can

-kicks at the back of your knees. he’ll never let you fall, will always, always catch you, but he likes to do it anyways. bc katsuki is a child

-changes the tv channel right when your show comes back on for commerical. somehow keeps a perfectly straight face the entire time you’re screaming at him

-unties your shoes/unzips your jacket/takes your glasses off your face damn near constantly. he thinks he’s funny. he isn’t.

-if bakugou decides that you’re not paying enough attention to him, he won’t say anything. won’t say anything at all but will just sit there and clear his throat obnoxiously. then you’re like “can i help you with something?” n he’ll just turn his head and “no. i don’t need shit from you.” (he does, pls talk to him or hug him or something bc he won’t stop until u catch on)

-if he’s tired he will tell you. loudly. constantly. opens his mouth to say the same “i’m fuckin’ tired.” shit every 30 seconds until you finish up whatever you’re doing and go to bed with him

-if his hands/feet are cold, he’ll put them on you. bc he thinks it’s funny when you squirm

-if there’s an opening for a joke he’ll say it. every single time. never lets you breathe for a second without roasting you. ofc then he’ll try and gather u into a hug n say some “no, don’t get mad, dummy. i had to fuckin’ say it! you walked into it!” ,,, don’t hug him. shrug him off bc he deserves it

-is a backseat driver. now bakugou cannot drive for shit without evolving into a vibrating mess of poor judgment and road rage, but he doesn’t let that stop him from opening his mouth when you’re driving

-smacks your ass every chance he gets. mans never lets an opportunity pass him by

-don’t ask him to get you anything. ever. bc he won’t hand it to you politely. he will kick it to you, chuck it at you, or drop it directly on you from a ridiculous height,,, ofc he warns you so you can catch it and not get hurt, but still

-will unironically comment and critique your teeth brushing habits,, all while his gums are literally bleeding from constant abuse

-pretends he’s deaf when you tell him to do things. that’s it. that’s the concept.

-steals the blanket right off your lap. wraps its around himself with a “oh. didn’t look like you were fuckin’ using it.” ,,, ofc u know this is just a ploy. a terrible ploy to get you to cuddle with him for warmth, bc god forbid he just ask, but it’s still annoying. doesn’t stop him from doing it again though

so, in conclusion, no one will ever believe you when you try to tell them what a little shit he is. especially not since he’s only ever an outright asshole or entirely aloof around others

pls idk what this is but i absolutely couldnt stop thinking about it

[ak8shi]

FWB HQ Boys: In which you beat the player at his own game!

warnings: Time skip spoilers, mentions of sex(all characters are 18+), alcohol, stupid people in love

a/n: ahh I’m sorry I’ve been a little MIA!!! But I’m back with this pls enjoy ! I think the fandom really make germaphobia his only personality trait sometimes which makes me sad because I think he’s actually a quirky/classy dude and very functional in social situations,, I hate to say it but ya’ll would get played by him… sorry.

━Sakusa Kiyoomi

Some of you may be like ???? Omi fucks around ?? how ?? BUT he definitely does in his own way

He probably doesn’t do much in high school to be honest, he’s mostly focused on improving as a volleyball player and achieving his goals

Once he reaches pro level though,,, it’s a different story lmfao

I can see him being picky as hell about his hookups, but just because he’s a bit of a germaphobe doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel attraction or doesn’t have needs…

….He’s so hot too… girl

His hook-ups are always taken seriously though… like he’s the type that feels like he has a professional image to upkeep, so he always arranges things beforehand; he’s definitely not messy about it and sets clear boundaries

I think what makes him kind of a player is how standoffish he can be…and he doesn’t really give anyone a chance because he doesn’t think they what it takes to deal with his lifestyle lmao

He’s just like, its easier to call the uber right after, get into the shower, and wait until he can hear the front door of his apartment shut I’m screamingg

Sakusa also isn’t one to kiss and tell, even with the boys… he doesn’t think its tasteful and would rather not have Atsumu up his ass about his flings

ANYWAYS,, let’s get into this, so you know Atsumu through mutual friends and met during college, and the two of you just instantly clicked since you also were a part of the same sports medicine program as him

Atsumu signed with MSBY and you were so happy for him, but you were bummed because you were busy with PT graduate school and couldn’t really attend any of his games

A year passed and you found yourself texting Tsumu to see if he could meet up and grab coffee since you were on winter break!!

You: hey I’m back in town wanna grab coffee sometime?

Him: who is this

You: I see you haven’t changed ❤️

LMFAO, so you catch up with Atsumu and he talks about his new career and his teammates, he seems so happy :(( we love to see that!!

He invites you to MSBY’s game the following weekend, and you’re pumped to go!! Tsumu got you great seats, and he meets you before warmups to make sure you’re okay finding your way around

Atsumu: don’t take yer eyes off me <3

You:

He’s so…

You’re enjoying the match and you even go to grab Onigiri from Osamu’s stand, but you can’t seem to look away from number 15 on Atsumu’s team

He’s .., scrumptious to say the least 🥴

Like he’s so composed and calculated on the court, and you find it so funny how he rolls his eyes whenever Tsumu says something to him and how Tsumu gets so heated about it 💀

The match ends and you go down to meet Atsumu near the lockers, showing the security your family/friend pass 😌

You walk through the halls trying to locate the setter, but you can’t seem to figure out where he is

The only person in the hall is the tall, dark haired man that caught your eye earlier; he is already walking towards the exit with a mask covering his face, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder, sweats embroidered with “Sakusa” adorning his body we’re all looking..... respectfully

He’s truly so intimidating but you’re like….highkey lost… so you don’t really have another option

You catch up with him, poking his shoulder gently; he turns around and his attention on you is almost STARTLING.. like his eyes are SO dark

Him: can I help you

You: sir… if you don’t rail me, I’m gonna have to intervene‼️😈😹

After getting over your initial shock, you hear multiple footsteps rumbling down the hallway towards the both of you

Sakusa lets out an annoyed sigh, muttering about how he has to go, but before he can escape you hear Atsumu’s loud voice LMFAO

“OMIIII, where are you goin’? Its team karaoke night remember?”

Tsumu sees you and slings an arm around your shoulders, “Oh-? So I see you’ve met our outside hitter Omi?”

You glance over at Sakusa, his expressionless eyes glued to your face, then slowly trailing down to analyze the way Atsumu casually has you tucked under his arm

Atsumu nudges him, and he grumbles that he’ll meet them after changing at home before walking off in the direction of the private parking garage

You meet the rest of the MSBY boys in the uber, and find them super friendly and welcoming; Bokuto and Hinata buy the first round of drinks at the karaoke bar, but you only have one because you have work to finish the next day WE STAN

Atsumu already has a pink glow setting into his cheeks when you see the boys turn their attention to Sakusa walking through the front door, looking as handsome as ever in his dress pants and fitted white t shirt

They all shout out incoherent hello’s, and he takes the only open seat next to you with a glass of gin and tonic in his hand he smells so good god

You’re unsure what comes over you, but you find yourself turning towards him, and you just start asking him about himself and his career, and surprisingly he’s very polite and much more animated than you previously thought

His voice is like…so alluring and he never looks away from you when you talk, its like he’s absorbing every word

Meanwhile, Atsumu is stumbling over the stage with Bokuto belting Love by Keisha Cole LMFAOO😭

Tsumu kind of ‘warned’ you in the car ride over that Sakusa was a germaphobe, but you know that Atsumu tends to invade people’s personal space sometimes and it probably wasn’t as dramatic as he made it out to be

However, you weren’t expecting the outside hitter to lean over from his seat after checking the time on his phone, whispering in your ear, asking you if you wanted to meet him at his place later than night WHEW

Girl I would be sweating… and you say yes ofc because who’s going to pass up this type of opportunity-

He gives you a charming smile and is like,, okay cool, I’ll see you later then 😊 I’m dead

Ya’ll exchange phone numbers and he’s like if you need any help with my idiot teammates let me know before he takes off

You don’t tell Tsumu about your little… entanglement plans dsnjaknda but honestly he wouldn’t even remember based on the way he’s slumped against you in the uber he owes you big time

You get home after dropping off Tsumu at Osamu’s, and operation dick appointment with the professional volleyball player is put into action 😈

He sends an uber over to get you ladies do not settle for less please, and you’re BIG nervous but in a good way as in you know this dick is about to be bomb af

SO you’re standing in front of his apartment door, and when he opens it, he’s still in the clothes he wore to the bar and its like 1 am he’s so powerful

Um I feel like he would get straight to it honestly, probably starts with a little convo on the couch and then…

YOU WEREN’T AWARE HE WAS SO DIRTY,,, it was SO good too like after getting home that night you’re going through a crisis… like you had so much chemistry together for having just met, and you wonder if he feels the same way🥺

You caught yourself in sleepless states some nights, kept awake by the thoughts of the way his hands felt against your skin, the way his five o’clock shadow gently rubbed against your face when you kissed, and how he would hold you(only after a thorough shower together of course)

As it happens more and more, he lets you into his life little by little, and you notice and remember small facts about him and he often remembers a lot of the things you tell him about you, its really enjoyable for both of you

Its weirdly domestic to a point but that’s why its so good for both of you???it adds a bit of spice ??

Sakusa: can you come over tonight

You: sorry the retainer is in already <3 no dick sucking for me tonight <3

Him: I bought pastries from that cafe you like

You: say less✈️ I’m coming💃

AND he HAS jokes okay, like he’s funny as hell and very witty when his true self comes out; but he’s also a HUGE tease and he’ll say something completely straight-faced that someone else might take offense to like “you look ugly,” but you just know he’s kidding from being around him long enough and from seeing the little glint in his dark eyes

It becomes a routine thing while you’re home honestly, and you try your best to hide it from Atsumu because you just KNOW you would never hear the end of it; for all he knows, you met him that one time at the bar and that was that

Everything is going smoothly until you slip up at one of their games

You were sitting in the waiting area with the team (mostly talking to Atsumu), when he just says something that makes your short circuit

Atsumu: what kind of animal do ya think omi would be? An octopus maybe?

You: yeah I mean with those flexible wrists it makes sense

Atsumu: what the fawk����

He’s like… how do you even know about his flexible wrists IT TOOK ME 6 MONTHS TO GET TO THAT STAGE WITH HIM-

Oops, lmfao so you kind of tell him about everything and he’s literally shocked for you, mostly because he doesn’t want you to get hurt :(

Atsumu: So I see he’s just sleeping with ANYONE anyone

LMAO noo he definitely thinks you’re too good for him and he kind of lectures you, telling you that he had a hunch that he messes around with girls like that, but also you’re an adult and you can take care of yourself, and it isn’t like it’s a serious thing!!

Meanwhile, Omi is like going through a bit of a crisis all alone because everything around him reminds him of you or something you said when you were together

He got with people who were compatible sexually often, but he never had the urge to have them stay over after the deed; he usually immediately called them an uber and wouldn’t speak to them again

He found himself thinking about seeing you in the stands at his games, wishing you were there to cheer for him only, and he adored the way you respected his boundaries unlike many of his hookups

Atsumu probably notices something is off with him at practice

Atsumu: hey…if ya ever want to talk about somethin’-

Sakusa: no

Girl… he doesn’t disclose any of this to anyone

Its nearing the end of your break, and you head over to sakusa’s for probably the last time before you go back to school

You’re kind of at the point where you don’t think anything will happen and you know you shouldn’t get your hopes up, and it goes how it usually goes? Except he kind of hugs you goodbye and your heart goes: 🦋🦋🦋

You go back to school, occasionally texting Tsumu about your graduate program, and before you know it, like 5 months pass by and you’re back for summer!

Tsumu texts you and is like… sorry but I’m forcing you to be my plus-one tonight for this dinner thing I have to go to

So you dress up and he comes to pick you up, and you’re really not sure why you were surprised to see Kiyoomi sitting at the table when you arrive you give Atsumu a nice smack on the back of the head for not warning you

You sit down at the table after greeting everyone, trying your best to not act awkward when you shoot sakusa a small smile that he returns politely (but you don’t see it because of his mask)

Atsumu sits weirdly close to you the entire dinner with his arm around the back of your chair, and he’s just acting strange in general??? Like he’s bragging about your degree program and about your accomplishments, you just know he’s trying something funny; but you don’t really say anything because you don’t want to disrespect him in front of the team’s staff as a guest

You almost choke on your wine and you catch on when Bokuto starts making comments after Atsumu says something,

Atsumu: …so yeah, pretty much she should be our next president in my humble opinion

Bokuto: 🙈WOAH. WHAT?😍 HOW COULD SHE GET ANY BETTER⁉️🙄 OR HOTTER⁉️💪🏼💋

You, sitting there: 🧍‍♀️

He’s so bad at acting I’m crying..,, it becomes so obvious that they’re trying to make Kiyoomi jealous

(the boys plotted beforehand, trying to get Omi to ask you out officially; after you left, he literally would never shut up about you whenever Atsumu mentioned you, and it was just obvious he was in his feels when it came to you)

Atsumu: she’s studying at a café tonight for finals

Sakusa: Yeah so I’m glad you brought it up, because I’ve been thinking about it for days. Fine I guess I’ll say it. Her favorite coffee blend is French roast and she only likes a dash of sugar with a lot of cream, but it has to be hazelnut creamer or else she doesn’t like any-

Everyone in the gym: 🗿

LMAO ANYWAYS ITS LOWKEY WORKING you look over at him and his face is like stone.. girl..

The dinner is almost over and Atsumu gets up to go to the restroom with a wink I hate him, and you get up to catch a breath of fresh air outside

You sit on a bench for a minute, calming yourself down after the eventful dinner, but then you see the door to the restaurant swing open, Sakusa looking around the corner before spotting you

Your heart pounds in your chest as he walks over and asks if he can join you, inspecting the bench before sitting down, pulling his mask down as well

He eases into a conversation by just asking you how you’re doing, basic stuff, but then in the middle of you going off on a tangent about your stupid professor, he stops you

“I missed you.”

He crosses his legs, not looking at you as he takes your hand, intertwines it with his, and places it in his lap

You gaze at him, taken back at his confession, noticing the slight pinkness tinging his pale cheeks

You say you missed him too, and then he’s asking you if you would like to go on an actual date with him

You: wait are you asking me out officially?

Him: Yes. No I’m not. Yes I am❤️

SKSLD Please he’s awkward help him a little, you agree and then you hear a tap on the window behind you, you turn around to see Tsumu, Bokuto and Adriah behind you with big grins on their faces LMFAO 🤡

Kiyoomi rolls his eyes, but you don’t miss the small upturn of the corners of his lips as he hears Bokuto happily scream through the glass

[justfanficccc]

Blessed are the meek

Father Paul X reader X ofc

Fluff/talk of mental illness/Catholic guilt

III

Shepard Of The Flock

“be shepherds of God’s flock that is under your care, watching over them—not because you must, but because you are willing, as God wants you to be; not pursuing dishonest gain, but eager to serve;”

Dim fluorescent lights tickle your eyelashes as you pick up and examine the only sheets they have available at this small convenience store. They don’t feel comfortable at all, flannel, much too warm for this time of year but they will do. You cannot imagine sleeping on the ones you have now, after what you did this morning they would still be soaked in your sin. Feeling your blood rush to your face in embarrassment you walk to the register and pay without looking up from your shoes. The midday air is cool as you leave the store, it gets much colder at night than in most places since the ocean is so close. You zip up your hoodie and head towards the house. Rushing to get inside you nearly trip but catch yourself on the first step with the palm of your hand. A sting wells up from the flat of your palm, it isn’t too bad of a cut, instinctively you pull it to your mouth and lick the small wound. Pushing yourself up you walk to the door and twist the knob, before you can open it you hear a familiar smooth voice and freeze in your tracks. She didn’t. Did she? You push it open and horror pools in your stomach. “Hey! I hope you don’t mind, I invited Father Hill over for some dinner, I thought I would be “ you cut her off “Cool just let me put this stuff in my room” you walk past into the living room and then to your room without even glancing in their direction. Shutting the door behind you the horror bubbling in your stomach turns to anxiety and guilt. Today has not been the best, lusting over a priest, then a panic attack, and now this. You throw the new sheets on the bed and check your reflection before taking a long slow breath and collecting yourself.

“I thought I scared you away.” He smiles a small gentle smile. You jump a bit at the sound of his warm voice. You pull out the chair and sit down as lady-like as you can. You can’t bring yourself to look up at him, worried his godliness may set you ablaze. Instead, you glare coldly at your sister. “I saw you at mass this morning, I was so pleased to see a new member of the flock.” You almost choke on your drink at the word. “Yes I um, you can thank her for that.” You say as you shoot her a dirty look again.”I noticed you didn’t join us in holy communion today, any particular reason?” His voice is so sweet and pure you want to melt into the ground and slither away from this whole situation. Your eyes dart up and finally meet his rich honey-brown irises reflecting the light from the window and as soon as you do you frantically look away focusing on pushing the food around your plate with your fork. “She’s been away from the church for a few years father, she was probably just trying to be respectful.” Your sister answers for you. Scoffing and with raised brows, you nod. He hasn’t taken his dark eyes off of you since he asked the question. “Well, that is something we can work on.” You look up to be polite and nod again… Lustful thoughts, masturbation, and now lying to a priest. You would be going to hell if it was real. “So enough about the church, what about you, any interests or hobbies?” He says as he takes a bite,

“I um I write.”

“What kind of writing?’ He asks without hesitation

“I write short stories and some poetry mostly.”

“You know I always have been envious of people who are skilled with words. I have to rack my brain to write my homilies, the word of god is easier to read than to preach.” You look up at him in confusion, was this an invitation? Was he asking for your help or are you just being much too optimistic? No, he is just being kind.

A buzz comes from his pocket and his long slender fingers fumble around to grab the small old flip phone in his jeans. God those hands, you can see them so easily wrapped around your neck his nose nuzzled into your hair as he- “Oh please excuse me.” You breathe deeply as you are once again pulled back to reality. He rushes out of the room to take the call. After a moment your sister leans closer to the table “He's nice right?” She whispers to you enthusiastically. You smile a bit, a genuine one. “Yes, he seems very kind.” She shifts a little in her chair her face twisting now a bit concerned “So please don’t kill me, I know you are adamantly against organized religion in all aspects but..” You stare at her holding up a finger telling her to wait and put the glass of wine to your lips taking a big gulp before letting her finish. “I may or may not have told Father you’d help with the fundraiser this week.” She says quickly and grins slightly apologetically, before you can answer Father Paul comes back into the room. He sits down swiftly apologizing for the interruption. “Unlike most work mine doesn’t allow me to clock out,” he says chuckling. “Id loves to stay and finish but I have some priestly duties that need to be addressed.” You can almost feel a sense of yearning in yourself as he stands back up to leave. “Well thank you for the meal it was wonderful” he points to your sister “I will see you in church on Sunday,” He says enthusiastically, then looks to you again almost hopeful “and you, how about the rec center tomorrow around noon?” You bob your head yes trying not to look too excited. Picking up the Bible he had sat on the table he brushes your shoulder with his fingers sending a shock of heat up to your head. He heads towards the door he gives one last look at you and waves goodbye. You hope he didn’t see the red burning from your cheeks.



[disgruntledspacedad]

The Rules of Engagement (3/5)

The Better Love Series

pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader/ofc (Ears)

summary: (slow-burn, sexual tension, angst, a little bit of h/c in later chapters) He’s a DEA agent. You work for Centra Spike. Peña’s not your boss, exactly, but you’ve been fwb long enough that certain people are starting to think of you as An Item, and that just won’t do. 

words: 3.4k 

warnings: 18+ for alcohol, language, smut, violence, body horror, general trauma. Please, please heed the warnings on this chapter, guys. It gets pretty intense.

a/n: Unbeta’d. I know I said this was going to be three chapters, but I lied. Sorry, my dudes - this one got away from me. Inspo credit goes to @tiffdawg​, as always.

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

MASTERLIST

Well, fuck. You bite back a massive sigh.

You really, really don’t want to walk through that door.

It’s been a month, and you life has changed profoundly.

For one, you’re not at the office as much anymore - Stechner had made good on his promise to consider you for more flyovers, and boy, has Centra Spike been busy. Some new vigilante group is terrorizing Medellín, and while it’s not Search Bloc’s priority to go after them, they’ve undeniably kept Pablo and his sicarios busy. The radio frequencies are hot right now, and you’ve been doing eight, sometimes ten flights a week. 

You absolutely love it. The hours are less predictable and definitely more shitty, but listening to a radio from the cockpit of a plane is much more fun that listening to a radio in a stuffy basement office, so you consider it a fair trade.

It keeps your brain busy, too.

Your social life has taken a massive kick to the nuts. Ana is back at university, and you miss her more than you thought you would. You’ve reverted to communicating with Emilio with gestures and smiles more than words. It’s nice because he’s nice, but you miss actual conversation, stilted as it was. Ana wasn’t all that bad, either.

And then there’s Javi.

You haven’t spoken to him since That Morning, not even a polite 'how are you?' in the hallway. Granted, you’re not seeing him as often anymore, given your new position and hours, but then again, you haven’t exactly sought him out, either.

The memory claws at you every time you relive it - and you relive it often. That anger, that wounded expression. The slammed door, his retreating footsteps. Each time you’re in that building, the walls seem to close in on you, and you have to stop yourself from looking for him, actively keep your gaze from roaming straight to his desk.

God, as if you could make it more awkward.

You’d had one nasty conversation with Murphy about a week after the incident - you’d told him in no uncertain terms that he could either mind his own business or fuck right off, you didn’t care which. He’d left you be, throwing his hands in the air and muttering something about how “you two deserve each other.”

Asshole.

Still, that aborted conversation haunts you - so many aborted conversations haunt you - and you wonder what would have happened if you’d just taken the bull by the horns and addressed the issue with Javi head on.

I’m sorry you caught me rubbing one off on the morning after you almost died, Peña. I can assure you, it won’t happen again. Your friendship means the world to me.

Yeah, right.

God, though, but you miss him.

You miss him so much it aches, a gaping hole that reaches right down to the core of you, but there’s nothing to be done about it. You’d fucked this one completely and thoroughly - any chance of restoring your friendship had drained away with the shower-water, and the more time you spend fretting over it, the more awkward - and pathetic - it would be to say anything.

So, you’d cut your losses, held your head high, and tried not to waste too much time wishing you’d have just kept your fucking fantasies to yourself.

Now, though, you’ve got no choice.

You’d been on Centra Spike’s early morning flight, just another routine scan over Medellín. The shift wasn’t intended to be more than a training run for you, but as luck would have it, the Medellín cartel’d had a busy night, and you’d been caught in the crossfire.

Your plane had just touched down half an hour ago, and now you’re standing on the front steps of the embassy building, fingering a shoebox cassette player loaded with a freshly taped recording full of juicy intel destined for the desk of DEA Agent Javier Peña - an entire, private conversation featuring none other than Verdugo himself.

You’d know that voice anywhere. You’ve studied it for hours, what few snatches you’d been able to glean from the embassy archives. It’s almost as if Verdugo is smart enough to steer clear of the city, or to just avoid phone conversations all together, the absolute fuckwad.

Until early this morning.

On the plane, you’d intercepted a new signal and tapped in on a whim, intending to practice your Spanish more than anything, but what you’d overheard was a fucking gold mine of information.

Verdugo is in Medellín. The sicarios are getting ready to move Escobar. He didn’t say where - fucking bastard knows not to spill all of the beans in one conversation - but apparently the plan requires a rendezvous in El Centro first. Verdugo is en route, and will be there until the next morning.

You’d worked frantically all night, tracing and retracing the signal, triangulating potential addresses, then back-tracking to account for environmental distortion. Each calculation had led you to the same place - an unassuming little house right smack in the middle of Medellín.

Bingo.

“You take it in, Aarons.” Torres had declined your offer to do the honors. “It’s your intel.”

So here you are, bleary-eyed and running on less than two hours of sleep, cassette player clenched tightly to your chest, summoning up all of your courage just to go speak with your ex... well, ex whatever-the-fuck Peña is.

‘This is your job,’ you remind yourself fiercely. ‘You can do this.’

As pep-talks go, it isn’t very effective.

Fuck it. You toss your head back, wishing you’d had time to at least grab a cup of coffee on the way in, and breeze around the corner.

“Agent Peña.”

He glances up lazily, thoroughly uninterested in whatever you have to say. When he realizes it’s you, he blinks once, dropping his cigarette in the ashtray and sitting up to eyeball you with a wary expression.

"What can I do for you?” he asks cooly.

You remember him saying that once before, but the context was totally different.

You shake it off. “Centra Spike has new intel that you’ll want to see right away.”

He purses his lips, tilting his head to indicate the growing pile of bullshit on his desk. “You can leave it here.”

Oh, so that’s how it is, then?

“I can’t.” You pin him with a stare, and he meets your gaze evenly, raising his eyebrows in silent challenge. You clear your throat and clarify. “I won’t.”

He scoffs as you carefully rest cassette tape on his desk, along with a map of El Centro. “We intercepted a four minute conversation with Verdugo this morning. He’s here.” You point to the safe house on the map, which you’ve already circled in red ink. “Feo and Limón are with him. They’re leaving early tomorrow.”

Peña frowns down at the spot where your finger rests. “And can you corroborate that information?”

Oh, the motherfucker. “I verified his voice personally, Peña,” you say carefully, doing your damndest to keep the annoyance from your tone. It’s well within his right to ask questions, after all. “It’s a direct match for the audio samples we have.” You tap the tape for emphasis. “You’re welcome to listen for yourself.”

He doesn’t make a move for a long time. Something hot and painful burns in your gut as you wait.

God, he knows you, knows you better than anybody else in on this goddamned continent.  He knows that you know your shit, that you want to catch Escobar as desperately as he does. And this evidence that you have spread across his desk, recorded on tape and marked plainly in red ink, is irrefutable, undeniable - it’s a huge break. He knows that, too.

His apathy is palpable, and it’s driving you up the fucking wall.

When he finally glances up at you, it’s with a doubtful little smirk on his face. “Hmm.”

And oh, wow, you’re shocked by just how much that hurts.

All your life, from the moment you were born into a family of brothers, you’ve had to fight tooth and nail to be taken seriously. It was a fact of life as early as you can remember - ‘look after your sister,’ or, ’she’s just a girl,’ or ‘wow, you’re really great at math, for a woman!’ You’d settled on your career as an analyst because you’d wanted it, not because you’d had something to prove, but still, the military is a male-dominated field, and from the start, the odds had been stacked against you.  Landing this CIA gig had been the achievement of a fucking lifetime. Still, the bar is set high in the Colombia, and it’s set that much higher for a woman. You’re well aware of this; you’re reminded every single day.

Point being, you’re used to defending yourself and your abilities; it comes as natural as breathing.  

But until now, you’ve never had to fight this battle with Peña. He’d taken you at face value from the moment he'd laid eyes on you, treating you like just another operative. Sure, he might take a crack at you every now and again, but that's all in good fun, and you’ve never been one to shy away from a laugh.

Christ, you never realized just how much that respect meant to you until suddenly, it’s gone.

“If you have something to say about my skills and qualifications, Agent Peña, then I suggest you say it.” You lean over his desk, speaking quietly, enunciating each syllable with deadly precision. “Otherwise, I think we both know that it’s in the best interest of Search Bloc and the Colombian people that we collaborate quickly, so we can put boots on the ground and land this motherfucker behind bars where he belongs.”

Peña’s eyes narrow, and he cocks his head, studying you. You meet his gaze, biting back a snarl. You won’t back down. You won’t allow him to intimidate you.

When he nods sharply and reaches for his phone, you know you’ve won.

♠

Ten minutes later, you’re situated in a conference room with Peña, Steve Murphy, Martinez, and a couple of the other higher ups of Search Bloc whose names you haven’t memorized. Your maps are spread over the table, your tape displayed for all to see, and every eye is on you.

“Verdugo is here,” you say, leaning over the map to indicate the marked house. “He and his entourage arrived late last night, and they’re planning to leave early tomorrow morning.”

“Plenty of time to get a team together.” Murphy interjects, glancing between you and Peña with open curiosity.

You narrow your gaze at him. Drama-mongering bastard.

Peña’s not moving. He’s standing with his hip cocked toward the desk, frowning down at the map with his fingers curled to his chin like he’s totally oblivious to everything happening around him.

You know he’s not, though. That’s Javi’s thinking face, the one he makes when he wants people to shut the fuck up and forget about him until he can work something out. You’re pretty familiar with that one.

The others are babbling in Spanish, discussing logistics and the likelihood of this being another trap.

It’s not. You know this deep in your bones. You’d heard that conversation in real time, had translated, triangulated it.

This is legit.

You’ve just decided to leave them to it when Javi snaps his eyes open.

“I agree with Aarons,” he announces out of nowhere. You’re startled by the confidence in his tone. Curious, you glance up, but it’s difficult to get a read on him. He’s pinning every person in the room except you with a hard stare. “We need to move out now.”

Several of the others make noises of protest, but Peña shuts them all down, one by one. Finally, his eyes flicker up to meet yours, just for a brief second, but there’s something different in his gaze, something new and heavily guarded.

You think it might be an apology.

“Let’s end this.”

♠

He’s on a plane to Medellín within an hour, wearing that stupid bullet proof vest. For just a split second, you wish that you were going, too. You don’t have enough experience, though - you’re not an agent; you haven’t handled a gun since basic. You’d be useless in a real fight, a liability, even.

Still, you feel some ownership in this operation, today more than ever. You don’t even try to kid yourself about Javi anymore, either. Those fucking feelings haven’t faded in a month, not a bit, not even after the awkward conversation you’d had in his office.

‘But he stood up for you, too, afterward,’ something whispers in the back of your mind. You replay that little glance in the conference room over and over as you watch Search Bloc board the plane.

He’s looking for you this time, standing on the ramp with his eyes shaded like he knows you’ll be waiting. He doesn’t nod and you don’t wave, but you make eye contact for a lingering moment, and again, there’s something in his expression that you don’t recognize.

Then the plane takes off down the runway, and you feel as if your heart is swooping away with it.

♠

You volunteer for the late shift at work, monitoring the radio lines in case something comes up. It’s an unusually quiet night, as if all of Bogotá collectively holds its breath, and you mostly spend it watching the clock, calculating the hours in your head.

One to land in Medellín. Two more to mobilize the men. Another half to get in location.

From there, your speculation gets fuzzy. There’s no way to predict the outcome once Verdugo is engaged. Javi’s told you a million stories, each more unbelievable than the last - car chases and rooftop shootouts, standoffs in the street, a fistfight in a church sanctuary, bodies of children littering dark alleyways… you cut off the recollections. They aren’t doing you any favors.

Verdugo is a dangerous man. Anything could happen.

By seven am, your brain is mush and your eyes are hyper-focused in that bleary way that happens when you’ve gone too long without sleep. Your third cup of coffee has gone cold, and people are starting to trickle in. You wave half-heartedly to Torres as you slip out of your headset, rubbing your fingers over your scalp to ease the tension that comes from wearing heavy earphones all night. A shower sounds nice, you decide, and maybe a quick nap afterward.

Somebody will page you with news.

Getting out of the building does a lot to wake you up. There’s something oppressive about the CNP headquarters that seems to abate when you step into the streets of Bogotá. The city buzzes with life even in the early morning, and air is warm in a way that seems to energize rather than sedate. Optimism is easier to invoke as you walk down the street in broad daylight.

Javi had looked at you, at least. He’d listened. He’ll call in to the office as soon as he can. Your intel was good, and they’ve flushed out the rat, he’d promised you that.

Everything will be okay.

You round the corner of CRA 70 and Circular, waving to Emilio, who is working the register of the pharmacy today.

“Orejas!” He shouts, reaching below the counter to hold aloft another bottle of aguardiente. “¡Mira! Solo para ti!”

You grin back at him, raising your voice to shout a greeting, and then, with absolutely no warning, the store explodes.

A loud boom.

A whoosh of impossible heat.

A massive orange fireball billowing from the windows.

Your body flying, flying through the air.

Bright blue sky, and then darkness.

♠

You find yourself lying flat on your back in the middle of the street. Your ears are ringing. There’s a pat-pattering in the air, soft like falling rain.

You blink hard.

It’s not rain, you realize dizzily.

It’s fucking ash.

The air is dark with it, hot and heavy. It coats your tongue and stings your eyes. It’s hard to catch a breath. Your throat hurts, your chest aches. You cough weakly. The smell is terrible, acrid and bitter like burned metal. You can taste it on your tongue.

Slowly, you tense your muscles. Your chest is still burning, but there’s nothing sharp to suggest a serious injury. Your back is sore, your head fuzzy.

You sit up, wincing a little, relieved to realize that you’ve just had the wind knocked from you. You’ll have some bruises tomorrow, but that’s all.

Sound slowly filters in. The hiss and crackle of flame. A shout in the distance. Further away, a wailing siren.

Reality slams into you all at once.

Emilio!

You stand, wobbling more than you think you should, but you push past it. Reality seems to pitch and roil, as if the ground is hitching its breath beneath you. Rubble coats the street, dust clouds the air.

Oh god.

A gaping, smoking crater is all that’s left of Emilio’s pharmacy. The windows are blown out of the businesses on either side, their outer walls bowing under the pressure. Your apartment on the top floor is demolished, the roof caving in, flames licking at the the collapsed floors.

You gasp one long, shuddering breath, taking it all in, and then you’re running, sort of, picking your way through hunks of concrete and twisted metal.

“Emilio! Emilio!”

Your voice is hoarse, the world hushed. Nothing sounds quite right. Your legs are shaking and you can’t catch your breath. Some of the rubble is hot to the touch, and you feel like you’re moving underwater, slow and awkward and stupid.

You approach what’s left of the store, and the smell hits you first. Like cooked meat - charred, greasy, heavy.

You press your hand to your mouth to stifle a scream.

You found Emilio. He’s pinned beneath part of the collapsed roof. You look away quickly, but not before you catch a glimpse of blackened flesh, of bone, blood, and pink frothy tissue.

Acid rises in your throat, and you stumble to your knees, stomach clenching painfully into your ribs as you vomit onto the street. It goes on and on, over and over for an eternity, tears and snot and bile and ash leaking mingled down your face until there is nothing left in you to expel.

The encroaching wail of a siren draws you to your senses. You glance up, suddenly painfully aware of your situation. The ceiling is arching above you, just to your right, and it’s creaking ominously. The fires are still burning, and your shirt is clinging painfully hot against your back. You stagger to your feet once again, dizzy, almost drunkenly. A small crowd has gathered, pointing and gawking, calling out to you in Spanish that you are far, far too overwhelmed to translate.

Gasping, you raise your hands and side-step away, careful of the debris that litters the street around you.

A firetruck arrives on the scene, squalling to a stop between you and the onlookers, and you leap at the opportunity, ducking down the nearest alleyway before anybody can follow.

♠

You aren’t sure how much time you waste in the alleyways of Bogotá.

Seconds?

Minutes?

The time after the explosion is all a blur, and you run until you literally can’t anymore, until you’re doubled over and wheezing, coughing, hacking, panting.

Some primal survival instinct clicks in your brain then, and suddenly, your mind is clear. You glance around, swiping at your cheeks and brushing the ash from your shirt.

Now what?

You take a shaking breath and think.

Okay, first order of business, you’re absolutely disgusting. You need a shower before you can even think about doing anything productive.

Your bathroom just went up in flames, along with all of your clothes. Your heart clenches as you think of Ana - she’s at university, so that’s out. The embassy has a nice bathroom, but no showers that you’re aware of.

There’s only one place you know to go, and that’s Javi’s apartment.

You glance up at the sky. The sun is still pretty low - it can’t have been more than an hour since you’d left work, and that was around seven am. Javi obviously isn’t home, and you don’t have a key, but if you hurry, there’s still a chance that you could catch Murphy before he leaves his flat.

It’s a long shot, but you decide there’s nothing to lose for trying.

[wayward-dreamer]

Life’s Lessons - Part 11

Title: Life’s Lessons - A Lesson in Moving Forward

Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x Female!Teacher!Reader

Other characters: OFCs: Katie (Y/N’s best friend) Kathleen (Y/N’s therapist), OMC: Neil (Katie’s boyfriend)

Word Count: 5,770 (texts, thoughts, song lyrics in italics).

Part Summary: New Year’s Eve night finds Dean and Y/N still separated, but it’s nothing a little fun over the phone can’t fix. After a visit to her therapist, Y/N returns to Lawrence to have an important conversation with Dean, before they can embark on their journey as a couple. 

Warnings: Swearing, Smut: Phone sex, Dirty talk, Male masturbation/Hand job, Female masturbation/Vaginal fingering. 18+ ONLY. Therapy session, Insecurities, Self image/worth issues, Mentions of reader’s ex, Mention of physical altercation against reader, Dean’s self deprecation rears it’s ugly head (slightly), Angst, Comfort, Fluff, Dean being sweet (yes, that’s a warning)

Music: This Is How by Louden Swain (Y/N post therapy session scene), Something by The Beatles (Dean and Y/N end scene).

Life’s Lessons Spotify Playlist

A/N: You guys are seriously the best! Thank you so much for all the love for this series. It really means the absolute world to me. There’s only 4 chapters and an epilogue left after this. I hate counting down, but I just want everyone to be prepared for the inevitable end. I can’t wait for you all see where this goes! Happy reading and enjoy! :)

 Life’s Lessons Masterlist

Dividers by the wonderful @firefly-graphics! Check her out for all your AU needs!!! 

Y/N concentrated as she applied her eyeliner, her face as close to the mirror as she could get it. She had given herself a smokey eye look, with a plum lipstick to match the colour of her sequin full-sleeve, backless dress. Katie sat on Y/N’s bed of the hotel room, dressed in a black dress and heels, just watching her friend as they talked.

It was New Year’s Eve, and Katie had booked her and her boyfriend one room at a fancy hotel in the city, and another for Y/N. Katie’s boyfriend, Neil had friends who were having a big party in the penthouse and asked him to bring anyone he knew along to the party. Y/N had protested at the start, given that it wasn’t really her scene, but Katie had insisted. Somehow, they managed to find a room once Y/N had agreed.

Y/N packed up all her make-up and put it back in her make-up bag. She slipped into her black heels, fixing her hair a little as she tossed it over one shoulder and turned back to Katie.

“I mean, it’s not really our scene either, but Neil knows these guys from work. I’m sure it’ll be fun” Katie said, still trying to convince Y/N even though she was almost ready. She had just never been a fan of New Year’s. It was always a letdown.

“I know” Y/N sighed. “I’m just going to feel like a third wheel.” She hated that she couldn’t be with Dean on this night, wanting to start the new year with him. As much as she had needed to see her family and she was so glad she got to spend this time with them, she regretted not scheduling the flight back to Kansas before New Year’s.

Katie frowned, knowing what she was thinking about. “You know I’d never make you feel like that. And besides, you’ll see Dean when you get back in a few more days. So, you’ll still be starting the new year with him.”

Y/N told Katie everything when she had come over to their house before Christmas Eve, and her friend had been incredibly happy for her and the prospect of a relationship with the neighbor she had been crazy about for months.

“I guess you’re right” Y/N shrugged.

“I’m always right” Katie said, laughing. “We’re going to have a great time and bring in the new year.”

Y/N laughed at her enthusiasm, shaking her head.

Once she was ready, she grabbed her clutch purse and put her phone and lipstick inside. She opened the door and they walked out into the hallway, Y/N locking the door and placing her key card in her clutch. Katie and Neil were one floor above her, and Neil had already gone up to the penthouse, so the girls decided they would meet him up there.

Once they got inside, Y/N and Katie smiled at each other, as people danced to music, drinks were being served from the small bar set-up, and waiters walked around with them and small canapes as well. Katie spotted Neil and they walked over, and he immediately took them both to the middle of the room, where people were dancing. Y/N bopped along, but knew she needed a drink before she lost herself in the music. She got herself a gin and tonic, standing off to the side where it wasn’t too crowded. Katie gestured she’d be over in a minute, and Y/N nodded, laughing slightly.

Y/N people watched, sipping her drink. Just as she was about to move and maybe decide to join Katie and Neil rather than stand off to the side, a tall man approached her. He was wearing a fancy sweater and dress pants, his dark hair slicked back.

“Hi” he flashed her smile, but Y/N wasn’t going to do anything about it. “You all alone over here?”

“No, I’m just waiting on some friends” she replied, politely, hoping he’d move on soon.

“Okay, but are you here by yourself? Got a boyfriend?” he asked.

“I do, he’s just not here” she lied. Dean wasn’t her boyfriend, not yet at least, but she needed to get this guy far away from her.

“Well, he won’t mind if-” he started to insinuate something, and she cut him off; shut him down.

“Actually, he would” she said, glaring at him. She walked off before he could say anything, walking over to her friends.

The rest of the night went on, as Y/N ate and drank a little more, and even danced a little with Katie and Neil. Katie took a bunch of pictures, only posting the appropriate ones of her. Life of a teacher meant you couldn’t really post drinking photos, so those were avoided. She was surprised, but she had a great time, and before everyone knew it, it was twenty minutes to midnight and to the beginning of the new year. However, as much fun as she had, there was someone who she really wanted to talk to and bring the new year in with. Even if he was in Kansas, which was an hour behind New York. She explained herself to Katie, who completely understood, and they wished each other a happy new year early, before Y/N left.

As soon as she entered her hotel room, she tossed her purse on the bed and kicked off her heels. She took out her phone and tried to connect FaceTime, but the hotel’s Wi-Fi was being crappy. She dialled his number, waiting for him to pick up as she sat on the bed.

“Hey” his cheery voice came through, a little loud as she heard music in the background.

“Hey” she said, smiling. “Where are you?”

“At Sam’s. They’re having a party and invited everyone over. The girls miss you” he told her, and she guessed he found a slightly quieter room, the music now muffled in the background.

“I miss them too” she said, frowning. “And… I miss you.”

“God, you have no idea how much I wish you were here. Pretty sure I’m the only one who doesn’t have someone to kiss at midnight” he chuckled, but she frowned knowing he was definitely trying to lighten his own mood.

“Well, I left the party early. It’s nearly midnight here, and I wanted to bring it in with you” she smiled, looking out the large window of her room.

Dean smirked as he sat down on Sam and Eileen’s bed. He really missed her and was so happy when he saw her name flash up on his screen. He snuck into a quiet room so that he could hear her properly.

“What? No good-looking New York men to kiss at midnight?” he teased, but really hoping he was right.

“You know you’re the only one I want to kiss from now on” she smiled, biting her lip.

Dean licked his lips, as he smirked. “Yeah, same here, sweetheart.”

Y/N hummed, leaning back against the pillows. “Good to know.”

There was a short pause before Dean spoke next. “So… you look amazing. Your friend posted a photo on Facebook.”

“Of course she did” she laughed, slightly.

“You uh… you still dressed?” he asked, hesitantly. He didn’t know if she’d be offended by where he was going with that question.

Luckily, Y/N knew exactly where he was going with it and was very much on board. “I don’t have to be.”

She stood up from the bed and unzipped the small zip at the dip in the back of the dress. She slipped her arms out and wiggled out of the dress, dropping it to the floor. Dean smirked as he heard the rustling of fabric. Y/N picked up her phone and laid back down on the bed in just her black thong, having forgone a bra because of her backless dress.

“I wish you were here” she said, softly.

“Me too, sweetheart. You… you wanna know what I’d do if I was?” he asked, closing his eyes as he heard her whimper.

“Yeah” she said, nodding.

Dean smirked, excited about where this was going. “I’d… kiss your breasts… and lick your nipples. I’d roll them between my fingers to get them hard.”

She sighed, as she brought her free hand to her right breast, rolling the nipple between her thumb and fore-finger.

“Are you touching yourself, Y/N?” he asked, his voice husky and downright seductive.

“Yeah” she sighed, licking her lips as she closed her eyes. She could feel her arousal growing between her legs, just from her ministrations and his voice.

“Good girl” he complemented her, trying to imagine her on the bed as he talked to her. He heard her whimper when he said that and smirked as he stored it away that she was into that.

“I’d love to see you right now. See you pinching your nipples, see your hand move down your beautiful body to your pussy…” he trailed off, his own arousal building.

Y/N breathed deep, as her hand skimmed over her stomach and down to her thong, pulling it to one side. She turned her speaker phone on to free her hand, moving it to her left breast, and paying it the same attention as her right. Her fingers dipped in between her folds, feeling the wetness there.

“Dean” she moaned, softly. “I’m…”

Dean felt himself getting hard as he heard her say his name. He had longed to hear it like that for so long, and he wished he could be there to do something about it.

“You what, sweetheart? Talk to me.” His voice was low and gravelly, turning her on even more.

“I’m so wet” she gasped, as she continued to move her fingers over the folds and up and around her clit.

“Fuck” he breathed out. “Are you wet for me, Y/N? Is it all for me?”

“Yes, you. Only you, Dean” she said, smiling.

Dean groaned, palming the outside of his jeans as he felt his hard on throbbing against the fabric. He looked between the bedroom door and the master bathroom, knowing that was the only way to avoid being walked in on. He rushed over to the bathroom, closing the door and locking it. He pressed the phone between his ear and shoulder, as he undid his belt and unzipped his jeans, leaning back against the door.

“Keep touching yourself for me, gorgeous. Move those fingers inside you. Tell me how it feels” he instructed her.

She moved her fingers to her entrance, inserting one first, then another when she adjusted, pumping them in and out. She rubbed the pads of her fingers against her wall, moaning as the pleasure pulsed through her. She smiled when she heard his belt and zipper over the phone and decided to have a little fun with him in return.

“Dean, it feels so good. My fingers feel so good inside my tight, wet pussy. I… I wish they were your fingers inside me” she moaned loudly, as she writhed on the bed.

“Me too, Y/N, me too. Picture it, sweetheart. Imagine it’s my fingers fucking you, making you feel so good” he whispered, closing his eyes, imagining it himself. He pushed his boxers aside, taking hold of his aching cock, and began pumping his hand along the shaft.

“You’re touching yourself, too aren’t you, Dean?” she asked, biting her lip.

“Yeah” he groaned, as he moved his hand along his cock.

“I bet you wish it was my hand, don’t you?” she moaned, as she continued to move her fingers within her core.

“Fuck, yeah I do, sweetheart. Wish it was your fingers… wish it was your tight little pussy wrapped around my cock, squeezing around me as you take me in” he grunted, gripping himself a little tighter.

“Dean” she moaned loudly. “Oh fuck, you’d feel so good inside me, filling me up, making me feel so full.”

Dean huffed at her words. Damn she was good at this. He threw his head back, hitting the door. His jaw clenched as he moved his hand faster, chasing his release.

“Dean. Dean, fuck… oh, fuck, Dean!” she shrieked, throwing her head back as her legs shook.

“Fuck, sweetheart. You sound so fucking beautiful, fucking yourself on your fingers” he growled. “Rub your clit, baby.”

Her thumb moved over her clit, circling the bundle of nerves, causing a string of loud moans to leave her lips.

“Dean, oh my god! I-I-I I’m gonna cum… Dean, I’m gonna cum” she stammered, overwhelmed by what she was feeling.

“Do it, sweetheart. Make yourself cum on your fingers. Make yourself cum for me” he groaned.

She moved her fingers and her thumb, faster as the waves of pleasure finally crashed over her. “Ah, fuck! Dean! Dean!” she moaned loudly, not caring if people in the other rooms around her heard anything. She came hard, her fingers soaked in her release.

“Fuck… shit… Y/N.” Dean held himself tightly, pumping faster and biting back a loud groan, as spurts of cum filled the palm of his hand.

They both breathed heavily, hearing each other come down from their high over the phone. Dean smirked, chuckling to himself. This girl was really something to get him that riled up that he had to do something about it right there, in his brother’s master bathroom at a New Year’s Eve party.

He heard her breathing heavily, probably still too blissed out to talk, causing him to grin. “Y/N?”

“That… was…” she kept pausing as she tried to catch her breath. She chuckled slightly, shaking her head. She couldn’t believe she just did that with him. She had never done that before.

“That was so fucking hot” he laughed, softly.

She hummed, still running her fingers over her folds, slowly. “Yeah, it was.”

“You’re welcome” he said, a cocky grin on his face.

She laughed, shaking her head, before it slowly died down. “I’ve… I’ve never done that before. You know… over the phone.”

“Coulda fooled me, sweetheart” he smirked, as he remembered everything she said. He needed to stop thinking about it, knowing it would get him hard all over again.

“I guess when it comes to you… I just know what I want to say or hear” she shrugged, holding the phone to her ear again.

Dean smiled. “Me too.”

Before she could say something, Y/N gasped as the fireworks started. She quickly sat up and smiled brightly as she saw all the beautiful colors outside her window, high in the sky as the fireworks erupted from the bridge.

“Happy New Year, Dean” she smiled, happier than she had been in a long, long time.

Knowing that it was already time there, Dean smiled. “Happy New Year, Y/N.”

“I can’t wait to come home to you” she told him.

“I can’t wait for that either” he smirked, his heart exploding with happiness. It scared him, not knowing what could happen in the future worried him, but he had to make sure things would be okay now. He knew they would be because they were going to be in it together. They were going to be a team and work hard to make a life for themselves. Together.

“Want me to call when it’s your turn?” she asked.

“No, you just get some sleep” he replied, quietly.

“Okay” she nodded. “Goodnight, Dean.”

“Sweet dreams, Y/N” he smiled as they both hung up the phone.

Dean smirked to himself, waiting a few minutes to calm down as he cleaned up, made himself presentable again and went back out to the main room where the party was. He had done that with women before, but it was the first time in a long, long time that he had felt that satisfied without anything more. It was about them being there for each other, even if they couldn’t physically be together. That was just the beginning, and he really couldn’t wait to find out where they went from there.

Y/N’s leg bounced up and down, nervously as she waited. The waiting room was familiar, having come here every week for a year after her break-up with Ethan. Being back there brought up old feelings, but she quickly put them to bed. She wanted to go there to get her thoughts properly aligned, be sure that she was in a better headspace before she and Dean went any further than they had. She smiled to herself as thought about what happened a couple of nights ago. She had never done that with any of the other guys she had been with. She never trusted them enough to do that. With Dean, she felt like she could do anything, but she also felt like he would never judge her if she didn’t want to.

The door across from her opened, a woman walking out and down the hall, leaving the waiting room. She smiled as she saw her old therapist, Kathleen waiting with the door open. She stood up, fixed her boots over her knee and picked up her brown coat. She walked in, as Kathleen closed the door.

“Y/N” she smiled, shaking her hand. “It’s good to see you, after so long.”

“It has been a while” Y/N agreed. She knew that she could’ve seen someone in Kansas, but she knew that she needed to see Kathleen for familiarity and comfortability. She already knew her past struggles and would be able to help with her new ones based on her past experience. She didn’t want to have to repeat everything to someone new.

As they sat down across from each other, Kathleen turned to Y/N. “So… how have you been?”

Y/N looked around the office. Nothing had changed except for a few more photos of Kathleen’s kids. Kathleen was in her mid 40s now, the roots of her dark hair were beginning to grey, but she was as stylish as ever as she wore all black with chunky jewellery.

“I’ve been… good. Better than I have been in a long time” Y/N replied, with a soft smile. “I just know that I want to clear some things out of my head before I start to move on with my life.”

“Alright, so tell me what’s going on” Kathleen said, putting a glass of water in front of her.

Y/N went on to explain everything to Kathleen, stopping to clarify things when she asked. She knew about Y/N getting the job in Lawrence, that was the reason she had obviously stopped coming to see her. She told her about school, about Mark, about Lisa and of course, Dean. She told her everything, about the kiss, about giving him time with Lisa, about Mark being an asshole, about Dean being there for her when she needed him, and about their kiss before she left to come home for the holidays. She told her about the trust she had with him, but how she did fear that something would go wrong.

“I keep thinking about all the things I use to think when I was with Ethan. Like I’m not good enough, like I’ll never be able to make anyone happy. That I deserve to be alone. It all resurfaced again after Mark and now… I can’t shut it off” she explained, sadly.

“Has Dean ever made you feel that way? The way Ethan did?” Kathleen asked, her face neutral as it should be.

“No, never. Not once” Y/N said, firmly.

“He’s never said anything like that to you? Treated you that way?” Kathleen confirmed.

“No” Y/N shook her head. “He’s just… he’s so different. He’s… he’s everything I’ve ever wanted.”

“Then what scares you?” Kathleen questioned, looking at her.

Y/N huffed as thought about that question for a moment. “That… I might not be what he wants. Which is weird to even think because he’s told me that I’m it for him.”

“Have you spoken to him about this?” her therapist asked.

“No, not yet. I know I need to, though” Y/N replied, feeling tears brim against her lower lids.

“Do you think Dean would be open to having this conversation with you?” Kathleen wondered.

“I think so” Y/N nodded.

“Then, that’s your exercise. Having the conversation. Then, and only then, can you truly move forward with your life, Y/N. If Dean is the one that you want to be with, you have to make sure the past won’t creep into this relationship. You have to make sure he really knows how you feel, really knows what you’re thinking. A conversation over the phone is much different to one in person. Once he really sees you, sees how you’re feeling, that’s when you’ll know where you both stand” Kathleen explained.

Y/N sighed in relief. “You’re right. We just have to talk.”

Kathleen nodded, finally a very small smile on her face. “I’m afraid our time is up, but I’m very glad you came to see me.”

“Thank you so much, Kathleen” Y/N smiled.

“Don’t hesitate to go to someone in Kansas now. It’s difficult to repeat your past to a new person, but if you need the help… it’ll be worth it” Kathleen advised.

Y/N nodded, determined to look for someone once she got home. She might not see them straight away, but she would do her research just in case.

As Y/N left the therapist’s office and walked down the busy New York street, she smiled to herself, feeling lighter than she had in years. It was as if she had found a new voice, wanting to shout from the rooftops that she was happy. Content. She couldn’t wait to get home and see Dean. Yes, the conversation would be daunting but she was determined to do it. It would be the first step in moving forward for them, and she knew things were going to be better than ever once they spoke about this.

This is how your story is unfolding

Try to grab a hold and slow it down

Here and now the sun is also rising

Day in and out, it offers no relief

I find my voice and sing it from the rooftops

Stand up tall and slowly take a bow

This is how

Y/N unlocked the door of her house, sighing happily as she walked in. It was a tearful goodbye at the airport back home, with little Evie clinging to her, not wanting her aunt to leave. With a promise to be back or the promise from her sister that they would come and visit, it was set in motion that the family would see each other again, soon enough. She dropped her keys on the table by the door, unwrapping her scarf from her neck as she took off her loose-fitting grey coat. Dean had messaged her, saying he was on his way back from work while she was in the cab, and her heart was racing, knowing he’d be home any minute.

Settling her bags in the bedroom, ready to unpack later, the doorbell ringing frantically and three loud knocks alerted her. She dashed out of her room and ran down the hallway to the front door. She flung the door open, squealing as she saw his gorgeous face beaming at her. She jumped up, wrapping her arms around his neck, his automatically coming around her waist. She leaned in and kissed him, feverishly, not wanting to let go. They were locked in passion for a few moments, until the cold started to get to them. Dean walked her backwards, shutting the door behind him, blindly as he entered the house still locked in her embrace.

They slowly pulled away from each other, smiling as they took a few deep breaths.

“Hi” she sighed, smiling up at him.

“Hi” he said, smirking. “Fuck, I missed you.”

“I missed you too” she said, against his lips, kissing him again.

They continued their passionate embrace, as Y/N shuffled back towards the couch. She laid down, wrapping herself around him when he joined her. They locked lips, their hands roaming over each other, exploring each other. Her fingers scraped against his scalp as she combed her hands through his hair, his lips nipping at her neck. However, knowing there were things she needed to say to him, she gently pushed him up, smiling softly at his confused look.

“I think we should stop” she said, gently.

Not looking disappointed at all, he leaned down and pecked her lips, once. “Okay.”

He sat up on the couch and faced her, smiling softly. She smiled back at him, taking his hand in hers.

“There’s actually a few things I wanted to talk to you about” she said, trying not to show how nervous she was. “Maybe we can make dinner together tonight, then talk?”

“Yeah, of course, sweetheart” he replied, nodding. “Is… is everything okay?” His concerned expression made her smile, reassuringly.

“Yeah, everything’s good. I just need you to know some things I still have to tell you about Ethan” she replied, knowing she still hadn’t told him a few things, like she said she would when she was ready. And she was ready. “And I just think I need to air out what I’m feeling, before we continue with what we have.”

“Okay” he nodded, but still wondering what she was going to say. He wasn’t one to talk about his feelings very well, but he was going to try for Y/N. He needed her to know that this was it for him, even if he had already said it. He needed to show her now, by being there for her while she said what she needed to.

They spent the rest of the evening relaxing, watching crap TV before they started cooking. They made some fried chicken, cornbread and gravy, all of which Dean mostly did while she helped him with things in her kitchen. He insisted on doing most of it, and she was glad because even though she was a pretty decent cook herself, Dean was incredible. They talked and laughed over dinner, as they both relayed to each other their holidays and time with family, reiterating how much they missed each other.

As they moved over to the couch, Y/N with her wine and Dean with his whiskey, they sat down facing each other, the smallest of gaps between them.

“So…” she trailed off, her nerves bubbling up.

Dean took her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “Take all the time you need, sweetheart.”

She nodded, quiet as she thought about her words. She sighed as she felt ready to talk, ready to tell him the last thing she needed to about Ethan, before she voiced her fears.

“You know most of what happened with Ethan. You know how controlling he was, how he’d tell me what I could and couldn’t do, but… you don’t know how he started telling me how I should look and dress. That dressing up meant I was trying to get attention from other men, but if I dressed down, he’d tell me I wasn’t attractive. He’d say things in the most convincing ways… and I’d believe him. I’d believe I wasn’t good enough for him… for anyone” she told him, as she avoided eye contact.

Dean looked at her as he tried to keep his anger at bay. He squeezed her hand tighter to let her know he wouldn’t let go. It was like the first time she told him about her ex. She finally looked at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

“It went on for a while before my family realized what was happening. They kept telling me I had to leave him, but I couldn’t see it myself, yet. I thought he was trying to make me better. I thought he loved me. We kept seeing each other, eventually moving in together. One night, we were about to head out for dinner, and he said that I should change what I was wearing. I told him it was fine, and we started arguing. He kept saying that I never listened to him, that I never did what he told me to do. I knew that wasn’t true because I always did what he asked me. Things started to get really bad and he… um…” she stopped, taking a deep breath before she continued. “He pushed me, and I fell, hit my head on the coffee table. I managed to scramble up from the floor and call the cops.”

“Fuck, Y/N” Dean whispered, shaking his head. He couldn’t believe how anyone could do that to her.

“I blacked out on the way to the hospital, so I had to stay there for a while because of a concussion. My parents helped me move things out of the apartment and move back in with them. I pressed charges and got a restraining order, but I still saw him every now and then. His family has money, so they probably bailed him out. He kept trying to apologize to me, but I was done with him. It had been a year since we broke up, but with the multiple run-ins with him before he left… I knew I had to leave. There were just too many reminders of what I had been through and I needed to go” she finished what she needed to say, taking another breath to keep from crying.

A silence fell between them, their hands still intertwined. Dean lifted hers up and brought it to his lips, kissing it softly. She smiled tentatively at him, feeling like she might explode from that gesture. He turned slightly, making sure he was really facing her properly, to look her directly in the eyes.

“I’ll never do that to you” he vowed. That statement pierced her heart as she saw a tear roll down his cheek. She knew it to be true. She knew he was the most beautiful man she could ever be lucky enough to have in her life.

“I know” she choked out, nodding to let him know she agreed as her voice gave out.

“Is that what you’re scared of?” he asked, fear making his chest tighten.

“No” she let out in a soft cry. “I’m just scared I won’t be good enough for you. That I’ll never be what you need, that this” she said, gesturing to herself and to her head, “this won’t be good enough for you. I’m a mess.”

He took the glass out of her hand and put it down on the coffee table, along with his. He cupped her face in his hands to make her look at him.

“Y/N, I need you to really hear me, okay?” he said, looking into her tear-brimmed eyes. “I want you, exactly as you are. Everything you’ve been through, it’s never gonna stop me from wanting you. You’re beautiful, smart, freaking hilarious. Fuck, sweetheart, you’re so fucking hot, you should know that from how much you turned me on that night we got each other off over the phone.”

One side of her mouth turned up in a half smile. “Really?”

“Yes” he said, without missing a beat. “Y/N… I meant it when I said this is it. You’re it for me, and I promise you that I will never make you feel like you’re anything less than the fucking goddess that you are.”

He moved forward, pressing his lips to hers, the kiss searing hot and imprinting onto her lips. She pushed herself into him, wrapping around him, never wanting to let go. She quickly pulled away, however, to look into his eyes again.

“I promise I’ll never let you go a minute without knowing how much you mean to me” she promised him.

“That’s good because… if you have worries, then I do, too” he said, shrugging.

“Tell me” she said, cupping his jaw.

“I feel like I don’t deserve you. Like, I’m not good enough for you. You’re so smart and have so much going for you… and I’m just a mechanic from a family of mechanics” he said, quietly, voicing his own fears as he looked away from her.

She shook her head, turning his head to make her look at him. “No, you’re not.”

“No?” he asked, slightly amused at how confident she was in her statement.

“No” she said, firmly. “You’re talented, and passionate and care about what you do. You’re so smart, Dean. Look at everything you’re about to accomplish with the new site. You’re amazing and I’ll never tell you you’re anything less than that.”

He smirked at her, pressing his forehead to hers. “Thank-fucking-god I helped you with your furniture.”

She laughed, as she remembered that day. The start of their story, even if they didn’t know it then. “I know.”

“So… can I take you out tomorrow night?” he asked, smirking.

“Are you asking me out, Dean Winchester?” she asked in return, playfully.

“You’re damn right I am, Y/N Y/L/N” he said, the smirk never leaving his face.

“I’d love for you to take me out” she said, kissing him, softly.

Dean slowly moved away from her, and she frowned as he walked over to the record player. He stood there for a minute, trying to decide what to play before his eyes landed on one of The Beatles albums he had. He picked it up and took it out carefully, putting it on. She smiled as he walked over to her, his hand out.

He smirked at her, offering his hand. She slipped her hand into his, loving the feel of their fingers intertwined. She pushed herself up on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck as he wrapped his around her waist. He rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes as she did the same.

Something in the way she moves

Attracts me like no other lover

Something in the way she woos me

I don’t want to leave her now

You know I believe and how

Somewhere in her smile she knows

That I don’t need no other lover

Something in her style that shows me

I don’t want to leave her now

You know I believe and how

Sometime after, they caught up on their favourite show for the rest of the night, slightly wrapped around each other, stealing kisses every now and then.

They both knew they would have struggles in the future, it was naïve to think they wouldn’t. They knew, however, that they could handle it because of one thing.

They were together now.

And together they could take on absolutely anything.

-x-

Tags: @flamencodiva @deanwanddamons @winchest09 @katehuntington @akshi8278 @hobby27 @michellethetvaddict @spngirl05 @kyjey @halesandy @440mxs-wife @stoneyggirl @deanswaywardgirl @wonder-cole @that-one-gay-girl @redbarn1995 @marianita195 @babypink224221 @deans-baby-momma​ @parinarain​ @thoughts-and-funnies​ @mandalou29​ @castiels-a-winchester @ellewritesfix05​ @jerkbitchidjitassbutt​ @supraveng​ @roonyxx​ @supernatural-love14​ @vicmc624​ @prettyboyswow​ @lunarmoon8​ @supernatural-bellawinchester​ 

[lifeofa-fangirl]

I don’t want you like a best friend

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC

Summary: Taylor Swift causes OFC to put her friendship with Tom on the line

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: A few swear words, a tiny bit of angst maybe? Mostly fluff

A/N: I was stuck on my Damiano David x Reader piece, so I decided to take a break and finally finish this one. I have nothing against Taylor Swift, just used her as a plot piece to move the story along. As always, likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated!

‘Please come to the BAFTAS with me?’

Lauren scrunched her nose together in slight confusion when a text from her best friend appeared on her phone. The words were simple enough. It was a plea to hang out, similar to the ones where he insisted that he needed to come to Edinburgh again soon. He was constantly begging her to keep the guest room ready, so he could hop on a train and come visit. It had always been too long in his opinion. She never disagreed.

They knew each other a little over a year now and Lauren was still surprised how they’d grown so close so quickly. She always felt like she still hadn’t fully recovered from their first night out together. 

Thinking back at how she’d actually gotten to meet Tom, it still felt like a dream. She still didn’t get how she of all people had gotten lucky enough to win the Omaze raffle that Mark Ruffalo had done. The winner was flown out to LA to hang out with Mark for the weekend and attend the Thor Ragnarok premier. By some lucky strike from the faiths, that had been her. 

She also still didn’t know the exact details of how or why the faiths had written Tom into the story. But the fact was that she had reminded Mark of Tom, he’d introduced the pair, insisting that they would click immediately and they should walk the red carpet together. Lauren still suspected him of setting this up on purpose to distract the press from any spoilers that he would almost definitely be giving away by accident. 

It hadn’t helped Mark much, as he had practically live streamed 20 minutes of the movie, but he hadn’t been wrong on the other front. Lauren had never heard or read a story about Tom that had anything bad to say about him. Charismatic, funny, intelligent and so very kind, was the vibe that clung to him. Lauren had been nervous about meeting him, she believed in never meeting your heroes, and had been scared that he wouldn’t live up to the picture she had painted of him in her mind. But Tom turned out to be exactly as amazing as all the stories deemed him to be. And Lauren had taken an immediate liking to him.

Mark had also been right about the press attention. When Tom had showed up with a date on the red carpet in the first time in forever, the press had had a field day. The constant flashes and questions, all the attention on her, Lauren hadn’t liked it one bit. But Tom had been the perfect gentleman. He constantly had had an arm around her to keep her steady and make her feel safe. He had handled all the questions with patience and grace, never once making her feel uncomfortable. 

And in the end, all the attention had been worth it. They had a lot of fun at the premier, so much that Tom and her had spend most of the reminder of their time in LA hanging out together. As the faiths would have it, they had even been on the same flight back to England, on which he definitely hadn’t boother her up to first class and she definitely hadn’t fallen asleep on his shoulder. 

Lauren had always felt like there could have been something more, but they both had busy lives and had gone their separate ways after the plane had touched ground in London.

They had, however, exchanged phone numbers early on during their stay in LA. To arrange any practical details of whatever they were going to do together of course, no other reason. 

But in the year that followed, the exchange of numbers had led to an almost constant stream of texts. Tom would share snippets of the stuff he was working on, cute pictures of his dog or just something beautiful he had come across on his daily run that he insisted made him think of her. She would vent about the trouble she came across during her shifts in the hospital or send funny pictures of her deeply loved godson.

They had become quick friends, but after twelve months Lauren still wasn’t sure what exactly they had going on. Whether they were bound to stay friends or if there could be something more on the horizon. Every now and then, Tom’s texts would take a flirty turn. But even though she always tried to send a cheeky return, she wasn’t sure what it meant. She knew that, even without realizing he was doing it, Tom tended to be a big flirt with everyone. 

And nothing else had ever happened. She had gone to London a few times, but mostly he came up north to Edinburgh whenever he had the time. She had quickly come to realize he liked how peaceful it was compared to buzzing London. They would hang out in their little cocoon and that was that. 

Every now and then some pap shots would appear of them. Walking Bobby, going for a coffee or grabbing dinner. Friends would always tell her they looked like a couple, the way they stood huddled together, how he had his arm around her lower back or hers was linked through his. But that’s what friends did, right? They hung out together and that’s all there was to it. They were imagining the extra sparkle they claimed to see in his eyes when he was looking at her. Because there was no way Tom was returning the feeling she told everybody she definitely hadn’t developed for him. 

And strangely, most of the time she was content about that. Because she wasn’t seeking any attention and she definitely didn’t want to be known just as ‘Tom’s girlfriend’. And Tom knew that. He respected that and liked it. Because it also meant that in return, with her he could be just Tom, instead of the A-list superstar. They had their own little safe haven together. It was the reason Tom had never asked her to attend an event with her again. And it was the reason she was confused that he was asking her now.

‘Pretty please? Put your loving hand out baby, I’m begging. Begging you.’

Another text brought Lauren back to the present and out of her thoughts. She snorted when she noticed he gave her a taste of her own medicine. Working lyrics into a text or conversation was her specialty, but apparently Tom had taken to drastic measures. She was still confused as to where this was coming from, but also knew she couldn’t say no to Tom, especially not when he was begging. 

“Sure, I guess that could be fun,” she agreed.  She pushed away all thoughts of this being a bad idea and decided to try and just make a fun night of it.

And fun she had. She accompanied Tom to the red carpet, the preshow dinner and the public ceremony. And while she hadn’t expected it, Lauren ended up having a phenomenal time during all of it. She cheered along with Tom when Guillermo De Torro won best director. She got to meet the wonderful Karen Gillan and Tom introduced her to Hugh Laurie, whom she had adored ever since watching Black Adder as a kid.

And she finally found out the actual reason why Tom had begged her to come along with him. Tom had insisted that he’d just wanted her there and wanted to have a good time and that it was time the world got to know the fabulous person Lauren was. But the moment they were on the red carpet and she saw the look on his face when he saw his ex girlfriend step into the spotlight, she knew.

It had been almost 18 months since Tom and Taylor had broken up, but surprisingly it was the first time they attended an event together. Tom managed to give Taylor a polite nod when she passed them, a motion that Taylor didn’t bother to copy. Lauren was suddenly very aware of the cameras around them and she deeply hoped they captured the once over that Taylor gave her, which ended in a look of disgust. Tom certainly had, as Lauren felt his arm slip around her waist to pull her closer to him and felt his lips press a quick kiss on the top of her head. She did her best to ignore the beat her heart skipped.

Things went back to normal, or as normal as the red carpet of an award show could be, after Taylor entered the venue and was out of sight of the cameras. Tom relaxed again, did his best to be his charming self for the interviewers. They enjoyed the show, loved Stephen Fry’s jokes while presenting and overall had fun together. It was a great night. Until Taylor arrived at the after party they were attending.

Much later she would learn that Taylor’s most recent boyfriend had called it quits a day or two before, but the night itself Lauren just knew there would be trouble the moment she spotted Taylor. The singer clearly was more than a little tipsy and despite the loud music, Lauren could almost hear her snarl the moment she spotted Tom, whose arm was hanging loosely around Lauren’s shoulder.

She should have warned Tom, because he hadn’t noticed the singer walk in yet and was happily chatting to the friend besides him. Instead, Lauren felt slightly hypnotized as she watched Taylor. They stared at each other for a moment and in the next, Taylor was walking up to the DJ booth with determination in her step. Lauren watched her greet the man. She shot him a fake smile, gave him a hug and then told him something. The DJ nodded with what looked like a loud laugh and gave her a thumbs up.

As Taylor walked away, Lauren immediately got a bad vibe. She turned her attention to Tom, wanting to inform him about his ex girlfriend just walking in and how she thought she was up to something. But before she could get a word out, the DJ’s voice boomed through the speakers. “Next up we have a request from none other than miss Taylor Swift herself. She asked me to pass along a message. So here it goes: this one is for you, Tom!”

It took a few moments, but when Taylor’s voice sounded through the speakers and she murmured, “No, nothing good ever starts in a getaway car,” all heads in the room seemed to turn in Tom’s direction. 

Lauren was still staring at Taylor, her mouth slightly agape, when she realized Tom’s friends around them had started fussing. She turned around to get a glimpse of Tom’s reaction and found him red-faced and clearly embarrassed. 

Nobody around them seemed sure how to handle the situation and Tom’s face now seemed to drain from all color rather fast. In a split second Lauren decided she needed to distract him and did the first thing that came to mind. She grabbed him by his suit jacket to pull him closer and get his attention and yelled, “Well we’re just a wet dream for the webzine!”

Tom’s face immediately told her the tactic had worked. It scrounged up in confusion. He stared at her for a few long moments and then he yelled back, ”What?”

“It’s a Panic at the Disco song,” Lauren explained, doing her best to be heard over Taylor’s song still blasting through the boxes. Straining her voice, she continued, “It goes: Well we’re just a wet dream for the webzine, make us it, make it hip, make a scene.” She let out a small snort when she realized, “Coincidently the song is called London Beckoned Songs About Money Written By Machines. It continues: Or shrug us off your shoulders don’t approve a single word that we wrote. And then the next verse goes-“

Before Lauren could get out any of the next verse, Tom interrupted her. “You really have a song for every occasion, don’t you?” he wanted to know. He was smiling and seeing him happy again made Lauren’s heart jump more than just a little. She felt so proud she was the reason he was smiling again.

She did her best not to give away what Tom’s reaction was doing to her by simply shrugging in response. “It’s kind of my thing I guess,” she allowed him. Then, not able to help herself, she continued, “As I was saying, in case you are interested, the song continues: just for the record, the weather today is slightly sarcastic with a good chance of A indifference or B disinterest in what the critics say.” 

Her words caused Tom to let out a loud laugh. “You’re more than a bit crazy, you know that?” he told her. But his words didn’t carry any venom to it and his actions confirmed that he was more than happy to have her around: without another word, he pulled her into a hug. “Thank you, love,” he whispered, loud enough for only her to hear.

Lauren’s heart made another jump when she felt Tom press a light kiss against her hair and the smile that was already present on her face only grew wider. ‘Mission accomplished,’ the voice in her head silently confirmed. 

Tom’s smile considerably lifted the mood of the people surrounding them and the rest of the night Lauren and Tom spend dancing with their friends and having a good time. And Lauren couldn’t help but feel a little bit proud about the fact that every time she looked at Taylor from the corner of her eye, she could see her staring at them green with envy.

Quite some time after midnight, Tom and Lauren were both still high on adrenalin from the evening, but the party had started to die down and they too decided to call it a night and drive home. 

Not completely ready to quit the party just yet, Lauren plugged her phone into the sound system and put a playlist of her favorite songs on shuffle.

They had just jammed out to Fleetwood Mac, pulling out their best carpool karaoke moves, when a new song started and a too familiar voice filled the car. “I don’t like your little games, don’t like your tilted stage, the role you made me play -“

“Shit, sorry, sorry!” Lauren grabbed her phone and stopped the song as soon as she heard the first lines, but it was already too late. Tom had obviously recognized Taylor’s voice. The mood in the car went from ecstatic to ice cold in three seconds flat.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Tom’s voice was void of emotion, his knuckles were white from tightly gripping the steering wheel and Lauren could easily tell he was angry. She couldn’t blame him either.

“I’m sorry, I really am,” she apologized. She switched to another song in a desperate effort to change the mood again. “I should have thought about this.”

“Well clearly you didn’t,” Tom answered in a flat tone. “I cannot believe you actually have that CD.”

Lauren understood why Tom was mad, of course she did. After tonight she didn’t blame him. But the whole Taylor story had happened before they knew each other. The record came out before they met and started caring about it each other. Back then it had just been good music to Lauren and she hadn’t really cared what the inspiration behind the songs had been. “I got it before we met,” she tried to explain. “Back then I just thought there were some good jams on there, that’s all.”

Tom scoffed. “Well, if you like it so much, maybe you should play Getaway Car again?” 

Lauren was sure a little crack had just appeared in her heart from all the ice in his voice. She blinked a few times in an effort to keep the tears at bay. “You know that song means nothing to me!” 

She cringed at the desperation in her own voice. But it hurt to see him angry at her and she needed Tom to understand that this had been a stupid accident and she would have never played a Taylor song to him on purpose. 

Emotions threatened to overwhelm her. She needed an outlet for them and she almost literally felt her brain to mouth filter short-circuit. And before she realized what was happening, she heard herself say, “Besides, if we are talking about Taylor Swift songs that remind me of you, let me tell you that Getaway Car was never it for me. There’s a whole other song on that album that I link to you. That I can’t get out of my head when I’m with you.”

“And what would that be?” Tom sounded skeptical, as if he couldn’t believe they were having this conversation.

“Dress.”

“Dress?” Lauren could hear the confusion in Tom’s voice. When he briefly glanced over at her, she noticed a frown on his forehead. “Isn’t that the one that is supposedly about Ed Sheeran?”

It seemed like the surprise of Lauren’s confession had calmed Tom down a bit. The effect she had hoped for, but at the same time, it also meant he wanted an explanation. He deserved one. 

Lauren closed her eyes for a few moments and took a deep breath. She realized that this was it. She just ruined their friendship. And she wasn’t sure if it was in the worst or the best way possible. But she did know there was no going back now. 

Another deep breath and there she went, diving of the deep end and changing their friendship forever. “I don’t know. But… earlier tonight you asked me if I have a song for every occasion. And well, I guess that maybe I do. And this is the one I have for every occasion I’ve spend with you.” A small pauze as she figured out how to best continue. “I think… maybe you should just listen to the song.”

Lauren could tell Tom had a hard time dividing his attention between her and the road when she felt the car swirl slightly. The movement only made her nervousness worse. She fumbled with the controls of her phone until she finally found the song. 

Neither of them said anything while the song played and they drove through the darkness. Only when the chorus played for the last time, Lauren somehow, somewhere found the courage to sing along. “Say my name and everything just stops. I don’t want you like a best friend. Only bought this dress so you could take it off, take it off.”

The silence that filled the car after the song stopped was deafening. It felt like the longest couple of minutes in in Lauren’s life. When she risked a glance at Tom, she could tell his grip on the steering wheel had tightened again and he was staring at the road ahead with a blank expression. 

“Are you not going to say anything?” Lauren eventually needed to know. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she needed a reaction from Tom, good or bad.

“I’m trying to find a spot to park this car.” For one fleeting moment Lauren was sure she had ruined everything. Tom was going to stop the car and throw her out. And then he continued, “Because I desperately want to kiss you right now, but I don’t think driving and kissing at the same time is a very good idea.”

And Lauren had never been more grateful than that moment that her superpower was having a fitting song lyric for every occasion. 

[arch-venus25]

The Head and the Heart, Part 4

Hello everyone,

I submitted this for @just-the-hiddles‘s The Damnit Jim, I’m A Vampire, Not A Landlord Fic Frenzy.

This chapter is less action heavy, but just as important. Thanks for hanging in there and reading!

Series Masterlist: The Head and The Heart

Summary: The twins are taking a night off from their graduate studies-- or at least Tessa is; her twin sister, Antha, is just trying to keep her out of trouble. What starts as a night of good old-fashioned fun and flirting quickly changes as they find themselves at the doorstep of the Hollow House Bed and Breakfast.

Characters: OFCs Antha and Tessa King, original characters/vampires

WARNINGS: 18+ for suggestive themes and violence, cursing, implied drug use, implied rape, stressful/scary situations, vampires, and characters with incredible hair-- you’ve been warned. Read at your own discretion.

Word Count: 3812

Part Four: The Aftermath

           The weathered professor seemed very confused but stood her ground and insisted, “Miss King, take the summer off.”

           “I just need a week, that’s all—and then I’ll get the methodology section to you—Dr. Watts I just need another week, please!” Antha pushed back. Dr. Watts set her glasses on her desk and then waved her over to a deep-tufted-leather sofa.

           “Antha,” her voice lowered, “I’ve known you for what—five years? You don’t become a valedictorian because you don’t like to write. You have been moody these past few weeks, you barely passed the final exam, and you’ve pushed back the thesis methodology three times. Last class, you were so distracted I would have rather you skipped. I know you, talk to me, what’s going on?”

           “My sister and I had a Friday night out with some friends and something happened.” Antha murmured, staring down at her feet.

           “Friday nights aren’t what they used be; did you hear about the fight that broke out at that dive bar off of—oh, what’s it called? You know the place—well, it was all over the news,” she paused gravely, “you weren’t there were you?”

           The twin nodded slowly. She felt overwhelmed in front of her advisor. She pinched the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut before replying. “Tessa’s date got into a fight with an old flame, it was a whole thing. But after…” She couldn’t continue. The advisor took her hand gently.

           “Did someone hurt you?”

           Antha’s eyes welled and all she could do was stare. As if she said the words out loud, it would become more true than it already was. The doctor’s forehead wrinkled as her brows gathered together. Having lived through the revolutions of the sixties and the proceeding struggle for equality, Dr. Watts knew the dangers women faced. She didn’t need an answer; she just wanted to offer shelter to a young woman. She knew just from looking at her student that whatever happened, it was beyond words.

           “You’re taking the summer and fall semester off—or at the very least take the summer off and go to a student counselor; its free, it comes with your tuition, so please use it. If you need anything you know you and your sister can come to me.” She wrote down her personal number and one for the counselors’ office. Antha held the little shred of stationary. She promised she would do just that.

        Shortly after, she left her advisor’s office and floated through the campus green and then waited by the bus stop. Her feet told her she was going home, yet her attention was somewhere far away. What can I say to a counselor? Who would understand what we saw at Hollow House? Without realizing, she had retrieved something from her pocket; she stared dumfounded at the pewter-colored iris that gleamed back.

        Antha couldn’t get rid of it. But in a moment of frustration, she chucked the marble-like eye into a nearby drain. She returned to her spot and tried to focus on scheduling a counselor. Moving forward, that’s what I need, she figured.

        A familiar wheezing crawled up the street. The sluggishness of a muffler that had seen better days filled her ears as she dazed at the phone number-laden scrap paper.  “—Antha!” Someone yelled. To her surprise she peered up to see Doug hanging out of his rusty Buick, looking just as timid as ever. He seemed anxious, for what reason she didn’t know. “I’ve been calling your name. You’ve gone deaf ol’ girl—you want a ride?” He asked with forced humor in his voice. She watched him blankly as his expression fell. “You alright?”

        Antha thought about it and suddenly felt stupid. All of her gusto about moving forward had evaporated; she lamely shook her head like a weary child. She felt like a little girl in a world that was too big for her. It all just seemed too much.

        The July swelter didn’t let up even with the windows down. The two didn’t speak as they made their way to their favorite pizza joint. Thrilled to be out of the unairconditioned Buick’s steel embrace, they collapsed into the far back booth of the pizzeria. All the servers knew it was Doug and Antha’s spot; they habitually kept it clean and empty, knowing they would eventually roll in. They made it to the “golden hour”. The sacred three hours between the lunch and dinner rush. It was their favorite time.

        “Whatchas want?” The straggly blue-haired waitress chewed her bubblegum like a goat.

        “The usual—uh hold on—when did you eat last?” Doug asked. Antha shrugged and realized she didn’t know. She couldn’t even think that far back. “Can we get a double order of the usual? But make two of them to-go?” The waitress didn’t even answer as she went to get drinks. “You want to talk about it?”

           “Nope. I said everything already.” Antha wasn’t mad at him, she was just tired. She was more annoyed that he would ask about the matter and then dispute the realism of what she explained. Doug grumbled when the waitress slopped the pitcher and straws down, vanilla coke-a-cola splashing everywhere.

           “—Hey, don’t we get like a punch-card or something? You know, for every hundred pizzas we buy, we get the next one free?” He politely suggested, his way of being confrontational. He was growing exasperated with the women in his life; he didn’t mind taking it from his close friends, Zoey and the twins, but he was having none of this waitress. She paused, chewed her gum, and left again.

           “Whoa, cool off killer,” Antha snarked, her spirits lifting with each sip of her fountain soda. She looked him over and thought on their friendship for a moment as he griped about that one particular server.

        Doug was a shy, lanky, ginger-bearded young man. He was passionate about things and supportive of the people he loved, but didn’t reserve much attention for the people outside of that parameter. He lived in vintage band t-shirts, had friendly light eyes, and a funny smile. No one could resist his unkempt wolfish hair or his corny sense of humor; he had a way of growing on a person. But he always showed up, his guitar in tow. That’s why Antha didn’t fight him when he asked about that night; she knew he actually cared and was trying his best to understand. He couldn’t help her though. No one could help.

        “How about we hang out this weekend, do a barbeque? Nobody grills a burger like you—and Tessa can make her sangria, huh, what do you think?” He tried to turn the conversation to open her up.

        “Uhh… I don’t know. I can’t plan that far ahead, I’m real busy.” She declined. The sausage pizzas arrived faster than expected and Doug dropped slices on their plates.

        “Busy yeah? Mmm-hmmm,” he bit into his slice, cheese tangling in his five o’clock shadow, “busy not writing your thesis, not eating, and not sleeping? Ant, the last time I saw you eat was a few days ago when I brought pizza over. You gonna talk to me?”

        Antha sighed loudly and glared at him. She was worn-through with the people in her life too. I’m too tired for this shit, she thought. She pushed her plate forward and abandoned her half-eaten slice. He saw her mild protest and his cheeks tinged pink. They silently stared each other down, him chewing as loud as he could manage while she obnoxiously slurped her soda in reply.

        Before they could hash out their issues a patron burst through the front entrance. “Hey—hic—you seen Ant? Where she at? The back?” Tessa was hiccupping and talking all sorts of loud, like she was in a club on a Saturday night. “Oh hey girls!” She pointed at the staff and sashayed herself to the booth; her bedazzled sandals slapping the linoleum like a jackhammer in the quiet place. The front door jingled again and in rushed Zoey.

        “I’m sorry,” she apologized to the front of the house and then chased after Tessa. “I picked her up because she was texting me weird messages—I thought I could calm her down with something to eat.” She explained to the table as she took a seat next to Doug.

        “I already ate today.” Tessa insisted, sliding in next to her sister and almost toppling over a pizza.

        “Oh yeah, what did you have for lunch?” Doug asked, his patience wearing thin.

        “GIN and uh—” she had to think about it but excitedly rebounded, “and uh water ice. Breakfast of champions!” Tessa thought she was quite funny, regardless how everyone else disagreed.

        “How about we have a little slice of pi—” Doug pandered but she wasn’t going to hear any of it.

        “Now who would put sausage on a pizza? Oh, no. I have enough meat in my life—you know what I’m sayin’ Zo—you feel me?” She howled.

        “That’s cute.” Doug’s patience officially went on vacation as of that second. He tore the sausage off some of the pie and then thrust the mangled slice in front of the drunk twin. “There ya’ go, just cheese—And you eat your damn slice too! This has gone on long enough—we’re going to have a barbeque and chill like we always do! It’s Fourth of July this weekend, did you know that?” He directed at the other twin.

        “This white boy’s hollering at you, oh lord…” Tessa cackled; her cheese dripped down the side of the table as she reached for some ice chips from an empty cup. Zoey was mortified and motioned to Antha for help, her friend was out of control.

        “Yeah—well this boy’s about tired of this foolishness! I don’t know all of what’s happened that night, but neither one of you will talk to me about it! Ant you’ve been practically dead, a walking zombie for three weeks—and Tessa, it’s three o’clock in the afternoon, what the hell has gotten into you?”

        “Gin.” She giggled.

        “Hey Katy? Can we get all this to go, with some two liters?” He yelled across the full length of the restaurant.

        Zoey handled the food transport as Doug buckled the twins into his car. He mumbled to himself, “…goddamn vampires my ass…” as he cleared his fogging glasses. Tessa began to mildly complain about the heat when the car stopped at a red light. They all noticed a young man struggling to get into a car at the gas station across the way.

        “Is that José?” She whispered. They witnessed his mother trying to steady him, juggling his crutches and searching for a spot on him that wasn’t bandaged. Adorned in a neck brace, shoulder sling, full posterior elbow splint, and full left leg cast. Poor José appeared like he faced-off with a combine. Doug glared at the girls in his rear-view mirror. The light turned green and not another word was said.

        He parked the Buick under the tree closest to the house and got the girls inside. Zoey did the same and brought the provisions to the shaded porch. It was too hot to do anything other than sit around by the fan or stay in the AC. Tessa went to her room when they got in; she felt awful about what she had seen at the gas station.

        They worked together to set up the tall pedestal fan on the porch, because the porch fan just couldn’t combat Mother Nature alone. They were in the midst of dawdling about when Antha accidentally fell asleep on the porch swing while Doug played the guitar. Zoey elicited his help inside to leave Antha to nap. The two were shocked with the state of things.

        Momma’s house was a frightful mess. They never saw it in its condition before: Dishes with dust, articles of clothing haphazardly dropped, laundry either half started or half done, it was difficult to tell. “Momma would roll over, I swear…” Zoey whispered. They agreed to tidy up while the twins rested, lest Momma rise up and haunt them. That woman was meticulous and was not above coming back from the grave to tell everyone what’s-what.

        As if life had been frozen in time from the month prior. The twin’s incident hit like a meteor and their friends now saw the wreckage. While they hadn’t admitted it out loud, they had stopped living too; obsessed with what happened that night at Hollow House. Grasping for a truth that they couldn’t reach.

        The overloaded dishwasher whined as it cycled and it reminded Doug of seeing José, busted up and struggling. That’s what really happens after a bar-brawl. There’s always a winner and always a loser. He half-heartedly swept the floor and thought to himself: these are the parts they edit from movies. The aftermath. The guns, the glory, the blood all made the cut; but the estranged motions we go through to try and find the thread leading back to our lives doesn’t. These are the quiet moments without answers, like loose ends dangling.

        Zoey crept into the kitchen and signaled for him to follow her to the porch. She had just hung the last load of laundry on the line for the afternoon. They were both beat and sweat through from cleaning. They shimmied the big metal ice bucket to the front, fearing they’d disturb Antha. She was so far gone that an earthquake couldn’t wake her. They popped two well-earned beers and exchanged the bits and pieces of what they learned from the twins over the past few weeks.

        “…that’s crazy, right? Like there’s no way what Tessa told me could be real, right? Did someone roofie their drinks?” Zoey asked him as she tied his wavy hair into a top-knot.

        “I’m just worried that something happened they won’t say, like they’re traumatized—I mean, Zo, I was driving to the bar and I seen them covered in blood on the side of the road. Tessa was screaming in the ER that a vampire attacked her sister—and then Antha all of a sudden, calms her down and explains to the doctors that they were lost in the woods, came upon the bed and breakfast for help, and that a strange man assaulted them there. Said they used a fireplace poker in defense, bloodied him up real good, and they escaped to the main road.” Doug took a swig of beer to recuperate.

        He was getting worked up just relaying the story, “But the cops, they investigated that place and found six bodies—slaughtered—in the basement, two of them the owners. The bodies had been sitting there for days before the twins got to ‘em. I’m scared that maniac’s out there. I mean—I’m scared in my own damn apartment when I think about it. What if they were found in that basement? What if we couldn’t find them?” He shook his head.

        “What can we do for them? Are there groups for people like this, who think they’ve seen something supernatural?” Zoey mused aloud as she pinned her jet-black pixie cut hair out of her face. The two pulled fresh beers out of the ice bucket and vowed to do some research after the weekend. They agreed their first goal was to get the twins fed and cared for.

        They watched the sun set into folds of purple, pink, and orange over the high grass. The heat of the day receded with the light, but the humidity persisted only to remind them that it was an intermission; the threat remained that the summer’s full force would return at tomorrow’s dawn.

        The grasshoppers were summoned as Doug strummed his guitar, not truly playing anything particular. Zoey brought out cards to shuffle, waiting on Tessa to play. The evening began to set in peacefully until a rumble cut through the twilight.

        A huge pickup truck barreled down the long drive and parked in front of the house. Out jumped the infamous Flake. His blond hair contrasted against the lavender sky, budding starlight glinting off his aviator sunglasses, and a tooth pick in the corner of his mouth completed his redneck-chic visage. He swaggered up to the porch and was met with a startled Antha; she had jumped up like a viper at the sound of his wheels. He donned a large patch like bandage over half an eye and his hands were wrapped too.

        “Tessa around?” Franco didn’t even offer small talk which had Antha go straight from just waking up to furious.

        “Not for you.”

“Well, I wanted to check in on her—haven’t been able to call on account of that scuffle at the bar. Them boys got my tires and my phone.”

        “Looks like they got your eye too.” She scoffed.

        “Yep,” he laughed and pulled his sunglasses down to reveal those piercing big blues, “you should see the other guy.”

        “We did.” Her disdain seemed to suck the air out of the whole yard. Franco leaned on the porch banister and pulled a smoke from behind his ear. Her eyes burned so hot on him she could have lit his cigarette.

        “I can see you’re not much for visitors, so I’ll just leave this. If you could give it to Tessa, I’d be mighty grateful.” He handed her a number, but she walked away not even considering it. Zoey jumped up and took the note. “Night ya’ll.” Franco flicked his butt into the yard and made his way back to his truck.

        Long after he left and the noise of his truck faded Antha sat, her arms crossed, on the porch swing. Her friends idled by, every so often glancing in her direction waiting for her to speak her mind. The disgruntled twin couldn’t connect the pieces of her dislike for Franco. It wasn’t as simple as his jeans were too torn, his truck too loud, or his gaze too heavy; it was the fact that she knew nothing about him. No one did. Where did he come from—and where was he going? It didn’t add up to Antha that he was the first hillbilly she ever met without a tan. What working man doesn’t have a farmer’s tan? Finally, after a good twenty-five minutes of contemplation Antha announced, “I need a drink.” With a flutter of Zoey’s sundress, she presented a liter of honey whiskey, lemon wedges, and shot glasses.

        A few shots and some pizza in her stomach, Antha started to feel somewhat whole. The four-hour nap revived her a bit, or least lessened the haze she had been wading through. She could finally take in her surroundings: she was lucky to have her friends. When the mosquitos really started to bite they brought their party inside and relished the cool—and now clean—house. “I don’t know what I’d do without you two, I’m sorry I can’t,” she paused, “I just can’t right now.” Before Antha could work out her sentiment the queen bee descended from her room.

        “That’s it! I have decided!” Tessa announced, thumping down the stairs like a sentinel charge. “I’m going to visit José tomorrow—even though it’s not my fault he got his ass beat, I still think it’s only fair to show love.” She waited, her hands on her hips, for their unyielding approval or preferably a round of applause.

        “Look at you growing a conscious,” was the general consensus of the other three. Tessa saucily tossed her braids as she dusted her shoulders. They all scooted into the kitchen table and fed her dinner. Just like a heart, she had a way of pulsing life into a room. Before they knew it, they were swapping stories like always.

        Tessa was laughing and teasing Doug when she took a shot. She threw her empty glass down on the table as was customary, but when the glass met the table it then clinked as if something had been dropped into it. They all sat forward to see a silvery-gray eye in the bottom.

        “Did you just spit that in there?” Doug’s eyes were wide.

        The twins beheld each other knowingly.

        In the beginning, they initially freaked out over the eyes returning. Now it became a sickening fascination of what they could do to them. The eyes always returned. They burned them, they drowned them, and they threw them away; every time the eyes returned to the twins.

        “I tried to tell you, but you’re not listening,” Antha began, “these eyes are following us. Ever since we killed that thing at Hollow House, we’ve had them.” Doug and Zoey’s faces were pained in disbelief.

        “Here.” Tessa got up roughly and held the eye over the sink. She turned on the garbage disposal and dropped it in; it made a grotesque metal sound and then after a few rotations, crunched like glass. Antha showed the eye that was always in her back pocket and explained she threw it away in a drain across town earlier that day. She threw hers in too, directly into the disposal.

        “Well, how long does it take for them to come back?” Zoey asked.

        “They’re not coming back—this is a trick!” Doug looked like an angry leprechaun with his reddened face and stubble. The twins’ faces didn’t even shift with the accusation.

        “Sometimes its seconds, sometimes hours, or a day. It doesn’t matter, they’ll be back.” Antha confirmed and the twins took their seats at the table. The room became solemn as Tessa popped another round of beers and poured a flight of shots for them all, knowing the liquid courage was needed. Doug jumped up from his seat and began checking under cushions, searching cupboards, and drawers. The girls sat back and waited as he processed.

        He huffed, “…you got back-ups, or hiding ‘em somewhere—I don’t know why you’re playing with me right now…it’s not funny…” But then a loud plop sounded on the kitchen table, like a golf ball dropped from the ceiling. He turned to watch a second oversized marble drop seemingly out of thin air. He returned to the table and gawked at the two eyes sitting in front of the twins. “You got to tell us what happened at Hollow House.” Doug’s voice was hushed as he shakily accepted the whiskey shot from Tessa. In unison they saluted and threw back the shots with beer chasers.

        While the four friends went over the sordid events, in gruesome detail, a mysterious figure watched from the unlit porch window. The uninvited guest crept off through the yard, down the dirt-path driveway, and made a phone call:

        “They got them eyes,” it reported, “I reckon there’ll be a war.”

Twinning Taglist: If you want to be added or removed just let me know; please share with anyone that might be interested. I would love any and all feedback so I can learn and become a better writer. Thank you!  I tagged some people that I thought would be interested in this. @myoxisbroken​ @just-the-hiddles​ @vodka-and-some-sass​ @nildespirandum​ @yespolkadotkitty​ @latent-thoughts​ @emeraldrosequartz​ @villainousshakespeare​ @hopelessromanticspoonie​ @caffiend-queen​ @poetic-fiasco​ @lokimostly​ @dianamolloy​ @marvelgirlonamarvelworld​ @brightsunanddarkmidnight2-0​ @cateyes315​ @mooncat163​ @nuggsmum​ @myraiswack​​​ @wolfpawn​​ @plastic-heart​​ @confusednerd09​

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter 12: Final Home Exercise Program

Characters: Captain Syverson x OFC (Shane Dawson)

Summary: Our lovers spend one last night together and the next morning have a serious discussion about their future after more new information comes to light about Sy’s upcoming training. Can the new relationship sustain the stress? Are Shane’s feelings justified, or can they overcome what lies before them?

Spoilers suck! Start from the top or wherever you left off HERE!

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings:  Language, mature themes, smut, angst…well, near angst. As angsty as I get.

Author’s Note: Sorry this has taken so long, my darling dears! I’m currently on vacation and although I was hoping to be inspired by new surroundings, it’s given me WICKED writer’s block! I have a pretty solid plan for more chapters, though, so, buckle up!

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

Tags: 

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@summersong69

@titty-teetee

@bloodyinspiredfuck

@agniavateira

@oddsnendsfanfics

@omgkatinka

@thisismysecretthirstblog

@misslaland (apparently deactivated, idk what’s up with that)

@speakerforthedead0

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@suavechops

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Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@

Sy's last two PT appointments could not have gone better. On paper, anyway. He was at full strength in his injured knee, his range of motion was better than it was in the so-called good knee, and he hadn't complained of pain above a 2/10 in the last five sessions. He'd even been using the treadmill properly the last two weeks, working up to his own goal of running again. Her goals for him were met…they could have probably stopped a session short, but she'd wanted to give him a few more handouts to finalize his HEP…and well, she'd be in major trouble for saying so, but…she couldn't stand the thought of cancelling that last visit. It felt like quitting, even though it would have been justified.

In practice, however, there was a tension between them that had never existed before. Something creating awkward energy that they couldn't seem to shake. They hadn't seen each other much outside of therapy this week, either. Not since the night of their argument. Sy had to do a lot of prep for his trip to Virginia, and Shane's caseload this week had been ridiculous. Dozens of evaluations and updates and calls to various companies on different kinds of splints and orthotics she was hoping to get for a few of her patients. A lot of time spent on the phone meant a lot of after-hours documentation. She needed a break. Even if it meant she'd have to do some work over the weekend. Sy was leaving tomorrow to get settled in Charlottesville before the big training course began. She didn't want them to be apart on his last night home for a month.

"Hey, as a celebration of your discharge from PT and your new career trajectory, how about dinner on me tonight?"

"But…you don't really want me to leave town…or to be done with therapy. Not that I, myself, won't miss you feeling me up in public." he smirked as she took his last set of range of motion measurements, her hands gently holding one arm of her goniometer to the side of his thigh…suddenly too aware of him.

"Not entirely true. I'm glad you're better, I'll just miss seeing you through the day. It breaks up the…" she sighed "the monotony of my daily life. Also, why would I want you to leave town? What would that say about me as your girlfriend?" she explained.

"S'pose you're right."

"In this case, yes. Yes I am." She winked at him.

They finished up and she gave him a few more exercises to keep in his arsenal to maintain strength and range in both knees.

"Okay, now, I won't be around to harass you about these, but keep doing them regularly, and just modify them as I've notated if they get too easy. Try to just do more reps, though. I wouldn't try to bulk it up just yet, and that's what you'll do with more weight added."

"Yes, ma'am." he said for old time's sake. She shook her head and smirked.

"And listen, please. This is your physical therapist talking right now. Be careful and mindful during … your cross country training." she wanted to call it "Survivor-Virginia," but refrained. She knew it would get his hackles up. And she was taking enough of a chance insisting that he be careful. "Nature has perils for the perfectly fit. The already injured are at a disadvantage from the gate. Mind your footing. And try not to run unless you have to. Uneven surfaces are not your friend just yet. You still need to work up to that. If you want, I'll help you with it when you get back. Just…don't undo all this work we've done together."

He seemed to see his woman peeking out from behind the mask of his therapist. Concern coloring the neutral and clinical advice she was giving him.

"I'll do my best, sunshine." he held her by the arms and kissed her forehead. It felt too intimate for the setting, but they had done worse. "I'll see ya tonight then?"

"Yeah, I'll bring some food by your place after work. What do you want?"

"Hmmm…I'll let you know." he kissed her cheek and left.

The next hour was her lunch, so she had time to contemplate what seeing him walk out for the last time had made her feel. She sighed, and started to well up, getting out her lunch bag to begin eating and documenting when a knock came at the door frame.

It was Sy, looking forlorn and manic and altogether a mess. Very unlike himself.

"I got out to the truck and something just felt wrong about the way I left today. As if it was any other day. Not our last session. You were trying to get that to land…I'm a little slow. But I finally got it." he walked to her, grabbing her up from her chair in a hug that mended all of the broken parts of her. Squeezed her back together when she'd been damn near falling apart. "Shane, you…you did more than just make me better. You've…made me better. Happier. Whole. I'll never be able to thank you properly for all of this, but…I intend to try for as long as you'll let me."

He held her while her tears fell softly onto his Def Leppard shirt. This was what she needed. For him to simply hold her, complete her, love her.

"Also, I think I'd like Chinese food tonight." she laughed into his neck.

"You idiot."

"You still like me."

"I do. And you don't need to worry about thanking me, Sy. You return the favor daily by just…being you…and being mine." She pulled him in to a ferociously sexy kiss, her hands in his hair, still too short for her liking, but getting there.

He broke away, neither wanting it to end, but both knowing it must, all the same.

"I thought we couldn't do this at your work?" he inquired, slightly out of breath.

"We couldn't do this while you were a patient. You're officially discharged. Last appointment over. All I have to do is sign your note and it's a done deal. But now…if you wanted to drop by for lunch sometime when you get back from training for your fancy job…we could…make it a regular occurrence." she smiled up into his entrancing blue eyes, sparkling with promise.

"I like the sound of that, sunshine." he gave her one more chaste kiss before his official goodbye. "See ya tonight."

As she watched him leave, she remembered thinking to herself one day how he probably used to take very confident strides…that hardly did his walk justice.

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

She ordered their favorites, four entrees total, so they had options, crab rangoon, egg rolls, dumplings, the works. She would be happy to eat off the leftovers all weekend. She wasn't fussy. She loved leftover Chinese takeout.

He met her at the door, having advance warning of her arrival from the canine burglar alarm, Aika.

"You got her. Good girl." he said sweetly thanking the pup for sounding off the Twilight Bark throughout the neighborhood.

"Hello!" She handed off the food to Sy and scratched at the German Shepherd's ears the way she liked, her tail wagging with joyous speed.  

"I thought we could set up a buffet on the coffee table downstairs while we watch TV?"

"Sounds great!" She said, with an enthusiasm that sounded almost forced. She wasn't able to fully shake this foreboding she felt saying goodbye to him, no matter how long they'd be apart.

Sy grabbed plates and silverware while Shane got them some beverages, and they headed downstairs, Aika knowing her boundaries did not extend to the basement except by invitation, whined at their descent. Sy wasn't having it.

"Oh, don't give us that sob story, ya brat." he rolled his eyes at Shane.

"Aww, can't she come down with us?"

"No way. I want you all to myself." a devilish smirk twitched up the corners of his mouth making him even more handsome.

"Aika has nothin' on you. You're the real dog." she teased.

"I make no excuses or arguments. I'm gonna be selfish with you tonight." they put the food and supplies on the coffee table and he caught her up into his arms. He seemed to want to inhale her into his lungs.

"Mmmm, as endearing as I've always found generosity, I really like the sound of that." She let out a huff of amusement.

They spent an uncharacteristically short amount of time choosing something to watch. They'd already started a miniseries together, and they wanted to finish it before Sy left. It was a British political thriller with a lot of intrigue and quite a bit of sex. They only had two hours left, so they finished it quickly as they ate.

They decided to put on something familiar afterward. Die Hard. Which they both quoted with ridiculous precision. They were cuddled into each other on the big sectional, lulled into comfort by the familiar security of the dialogue and the warmth of the other.

Soon, Sy's hand found its way to Shane's thigh. It inched its way inside and up. She felt like he could hear her heart rate quicken, just as she knew he could hear her breaths come with more effort due to his touch.

She looked at him, and despite her apprehension about his decision to leave her so early in their relationship, she wanted him. She'd known for so long now. It felt like forever, for longer than they'd even known one another. A ridiculous notion. But with that same gaze, she begged him to continue. The signal was not lost on the captain. His mouth punished hers in a kiss so deliciously violent and needy she thought there was no way he couldn't feel the same for her. She pushed to the back of her busy mind all of the negative emotions the kiss brought up, the confusion as to how and why he was going to leave her when he clearly needed her just as badly as she needed him, and just let this beautiful moment become what it would.

As hard as that was to do.

The way he touched her was a pretty effective distraction. One hand held her firmly against his mouth by the nape while the other built friction in her over her jeans. She felt her body's primal responses of the building pressure and her hands gripping at his shirt. His guttural moan at her answering touch only fueled the inferno in her. She needed more of him. She thrust up into his hand wantonly. He took himself away from her, cruelly, but to be so very kind, she would soon see. He undid her jeans and tugged them down, along with her panties. In the process, he repositioned her conveniently at the edge of the sofa. He scooted the coffee table out of the way enough to kneel before her. He tortured her with kisses from her knee up her inner thigh on both sides before continuing those kisses where she really needed them.

His warm breath hit her first and she arched, aching in anticipation for the corporeal. He looked up at her with his dervish's grin, seeing the desire on her face and feeling it course through her body, and although he was a better man than her previous lovers, and a better man than most, no man was so good that making his woman feel like this didn't make him feel like a god.

"Darlin', you're so gorgeous like this." he said as he teased her with his mouth. Her words failed. She had only unintelligible syllables for him. He didn't seem to mind. In fact, he seemed thoroughly amused by her speechlessness. Amused and encouraged. She'd never felt like this before. His lips and tongue worked over her trembling flesh, both as familiar paths and brand new territory. Discovering the new and remembering the familiar, all at once.

"Sy." she whispered, so close to her peak, and needing him to continue, but unable to do more than moan his name.

"I know, sugar. I know it won't be long. Whenever you're ready, sweetheart."

And she fell apart under his expert touch. He soothed her body down from the climax and asked her if she was ready for bed.

"I think not!" she replied. "The movie isn't over." and she pulled him up to her by the cheeks into another crushing kiss and guided him to the couch. She kicked her bottoms off her ankles to avoid tripping and repositioned herself between his legs as he'd done with her.

"You don't have to, sunshine." he caressed her jaw.

"I know, babe. I want to. Let me do this for you." He was always eager to taste her but she'd yet to return the favor at his own request. She was done letting him decline. She didn't want him leaving without giving him this small parting gift.

It wasn't as if she was unfamiliar with how big he was. She'd touched him, and had him inside her…but seeing him this close was different. She fully appreciated what a feat it was to take him.

She started in with her own tricks, which made him moan, just as planned. His hands laced gently and lovingly in her hair as she worked her mouth and hands over him. She looked up at him after a few moments to gauge his reaction and couldn't have been more pleased. His expression was one of pure, tortured bliss. She felt so powerful.

"Angel, I'm not gonna last much longer." she took that as her cue to get on top of him.

She joined their bodies with a groan of ecstasy that he echoed. She gripped his shoulders as she moved against him, slow and measured at first, but becoming more frantic and erratic as she chased her climax. One hand remaining on her hip, the other came to her chin and directed her gaze to him. Her eyes, blazing with desire, met his, full of tears. She fell against his lips, as she climbed higher, needing that final push to send her over. Which it did, tumbling into that familiar bliss, that she'd have to savor for…well, too long. She didn't want to think too hard about that. This would be their last night together for several weeks. And she wanted to make the most of it. She looked at him, nodded, and after a few more thrusts, he came to his own pinnacle with a shudder beneath her, clutching at her back, resting his head on her sternum. She held him there, and took a few cleansing breaths with her own cheek pressed against his lengthening hair. She stroked the ones at the back of his neck for a moment as they came down from their impossible high.

"Shall we continue this upstairs?" she asked as the cheery, festive, and entirely out-of-season notes of "Let It Snow" played on the TV with the rolling credits of Die Hard. He grinned.

"Yeah, if I still have bones in my legs." he kissed her neck, just above the collar of her tee. "And I'll come down later and clear all this up. We'll just have to close the door so Aika doesn't come down and have herself a party. She's a good dog, but I'm not about to tempt her."

Shane carefully slid off of Sy's lap, attempting not to make too much of a mess, grabbed her panties and slipped them on for the walk to Sy's room.

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

The musical chiming of Sy's phone alarm came too damned early. They'd barely slept, not wanting to waste a moment together. When they finally nodded off after their last round of fervent love-making, they wrapped themselves around one another and were both out like lights in no time. Now he was untangling himself from her to turn the noise off and presumably begin the process of getting ready to leave for the airport. He only snoozed it, though, and pulled her more tightly against his bare, hairy chest.

"What time is it?" She asked, bleary from lack of sleep and extreme fatigue. Not that she was complaining.

"Seven. But my flight doesn't leave until 10, and it's just from the base. There's a flight leaving there for  Charlottesville-Albemarle Airport and I'm hitchin' a ride with them."

"Oh good. I had anticipated we'd have to drive to Springfield, or even St. Louis this morning." She would do it for Sy, of course, but she wasn't looking forward to a six hour minimum round trip, half of which she would have to make alone.

"Nah, and I'm hoping to work something out for the return trip, too, but I'll let you know about that, then. I've made those open ended, though, because I don't know about the return date."

"Sure. God, that's so…crazy. Not in a bad way, just, I can't imagine leaving home without a clear plan on when I'd be back. Of course, knowing it won't be more than a month helps, I guess."

"Yeah."

"And really, a part of me has dreamed of living a sort of nomadic existence since I was very young, so I definitely see the romance in it."

"Totally agree. Hey, I'm hungry. How about we get ready and I'll buy ya breakfast?" He seemed evasive, but she was hungry, too, so she let it go.

"Sounds great!"

They got up and showered together, keeping the sexy time to a minimum given the current time constraints they'd now placed upon themselves. If they didn't hurry, they'd never get out of Cracker Barrell in time to get him to the base.

He loaded his bag in her cargo space and they headed off to the restaurant, which was hopping with traffic on a Saturday morning, as was expected. But since there were only two of them, they got a table without waiting.

They ordered coffees, and Cokes, not super healthy, but hey, this wasn't a daily occurrence. It was a splurge.

Sy ordered some massive and meaty breakfast spread that sounded like a heart attack waiting to happen, while Shane kept it simple with biscuits and gravy and a side of fruit…also, she stole a strip of Sy's bacon. Again…she was a weak woman.

The conversation was light and friendly and lovey…until the time came to leave. Sy picked up the check and took it to the counter to pay and then led her out the double doors back to her vehicle.

"You'll be able to FaceTime me on evenings you haven't gone walkabout in the wilderness, right?"

"I'm not sure they call it that outside of Australia, or even the Crocodile Dundee movies, but yeah, we'll plan on that, for sure."

"Good. I'll miss you so much. But at least I have a pretty good idea of when you'll be back." she was spouting excitedly, but he was being rather cagey again. He piped up with three words that never start off a good sentence.

"Yeah, about that…" she looked at him as they closed the doors to her Explorer, waiting for him to continue…hoping for good news, but expecting bad.

"I got an email last night…late…that I…that the training…might take longer than they told me at first." he winced for the impact of her reception of the anticipated bad news.

"Longer…uh-huh. How much longer?" she asked, backing out of her parking space.

"Ya know if you back into these spaces you don't have to worry about--"

"Really? This is the moment you want to man-splain the concepts of parking to me, Sy? I'll save you the trouble. My dad couldn't get me to do it, and I don't see you having any success, either. Now, how much longer?"

"I don't…they didn't give a concrete--"

"Give me your best guess based on what you know. Give me a range. A ballpark, if you will."

"Uhh…two or three more…weeks…than planned." he winced as she drove toward Fort Leonard Wood Army Base from the peaceful breakfast joint. It was rather poetic, really, since the conversation had turned from relaxed to militant. And they were driving from civilian territory into a land of combatants. Not a war zone, but a zone of warriors, perhaps. And she was ready for battle, herself.

"Sy. That's more than six weeks."

"I know." he said, his eyes downcast in some combination of shame, fear, and sadness.

"And you're…fine with it?" she prodded, prompting him to consider her.

"Of course I don't like it. I'm gonna hate being away from my sunshine for even a week. But this is…it's about who I am. Who I'm meant to be from now on. I have to find my way from here, Shane."

"I guess my only question is…where do I fit into this…path. This life you're making for yourself? We're brand new. But we've worked really hard already to get where we are. And I've worked really hard to get to where I am, professionally. In my dream job. No, the circumstances aren't ideal, but the work makes me think, and gives me purpose. What am I suppose to do? Either I give that up, or I give up…the only man I've ever been with who's made me actually happy."

"I don't want that. I don't want to lose you, and I don't want you to give anything up for me, darlin.' That'll just lead to you resentin' me down the road, and I don't want that, neither." He stopped a moment and just looked at her, face holding back frustrated and angry tears…but also very sad ones. "What about this? Let's just, talk about all this moving forward stuff when I'm back from training. At that point, I'll know more about what to expect about jobs and assignments. And…if it would make you feel more comfortable…we can call ourselves…unexclusive. That way, if you meet someone while I'm gone--"

"Have you lost your mind?" She interrupted his ridiculous attempt to be selfless. She was secure enough in his feelings for her that he wasn't making the suggestion for himself.

"I'm serious. If you meet someone, and he sweeps you off your feet, don't resist. I want you to be happy, Shane."

"Then come back and teach gym at the local high school. Better yet, don't go, at all."

"You remember all that stuff you said about having your dream job and a purpose?" Shane nodded. "You want me to find all that too, don'tcha?"

"No. I'm a selfish bitch who wants you here with me no matter the cost. And I don't care if you resent me in the long run. At least I'll have you." she laughed at her sarcasm and only slightly true self-deprecation.

"You'll be fine. You managed so far without me." he reminded her as she pulled up to the gate, guarded by about four men, who's rank she couldn't tell, but one of whom Sy called a sergeant.

"I'll get out here and they'll take me to the hangar in a cart. No civilian vehicles allowed today. Apparently they're doing maneuvers." he shrugged and got out to grab his bag.

"I put the rest of the takeout in here too. It's in one of my nice coolers on ice."

"Thanks." she told her shoes as they stood under the shade of her rear access hatch. She couldn't look at him right now. He made her, though.

"This ain't quite like the airport, but I still don't have a lot of time, sunshine." he kissed her hard, and it really felt like a goodbye, which almost hurt more than his leaving. Almost. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, and she knew she'd feel that embrace all evening. She hoped it would last for weeks.

"I love you, Sy." she sobbed to him. Trying like hell to keep it together.

"I love you, darlin.' Now don't you forget that when some other handsome fella gives you the eye. Make sure he's worth it, if you're gonna write me a dear john letter." he winked at her. She laughed and nodded, but didn't feel it was that funny, and didn't intend to adhere to his parameters of their relationship. He ducked under the arm that was preventing her from driving through. Although, legs as long as his, he almost could have stepped over it. She watched him walk away for as long as she could before she was given the signal that she must leave and let other traffic through…although, she resented this. There were two lanes, after all. Couldn't these men see what a mess she was? She'd just had to say goodbye to the love of her life…and she didn't know when…or indeed, if…she'd see him again. She had hope…but that didn't stop her from crying all the way home and the rest of the afternoon as the ghost of Sy's parting hug faded from her skin.

Up Next: Chapter 13: SNAFU

[rmtndew]

All I’ve Ever Known ~ Chapter 3

Summary: Fiona’s life is a shattered fraction of what it used to be. She’s trying to navigate her new normal when she meets Detective Marshall, who gives her something more to look forward to.

Pairing: Marshall and OFC.

Rating: PG

Warnings: Mentions of death, cancer.

A/N - This was intended as a short drabble but it got out of hand and became a multi-chapter story instead. It’s my first Marshall fic and the first fan fic that I’ve written in over a decade. The title comes from the song ‘All I’ve Ever Known’ from Hadestown: ‘I was alone so long, I didn’t even know that I was lonely. Out in the cold so long, I didn’t even know that I was cold. Turned my collar to the wind, this is how it’s always been. All I’ve ever known is how to hold my own, but now I want to hold you, too.’

Tag list - @hollydaisy23​​, @readings-of-a-cavill-lover​​, @onlyhenrys​​, @omgkatinka​​, @speakerforthedead0-blog​​, @gearhead66​​,  @thethirstyarchive​, @oddsnendsfanfics​, @littlerinoa, @agniavateira​, @aaescritora​,

If you’d like to be added to the tag list, let me know!

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

Wednesday morning we had so many orders to fill that I was left filling the one for the police station all by myself. I saved Marshall’s for last and when I knew Darcy wasn’t looking (not that she would have minded), I wrote a quick note on the paper sleeve the cookies went in. 

    ‘Thank you again for Saturday night - Fiona’

Then I put in two extra cookies in the sleeve and placed it in the box before sealing it with the store sticker.

When I arrived at the station, I kept my eye out for Marshall, hoping to see him again. Despite being convinced that he wasn’t interested in me and that nothing would come out of my crush on him, I hadn’t been interested in anyone since Ezra had broken up with me and it felt nice to know that I was capable of feeling things again. 

I worked quickly, doing my best to not be sloppy, as I tried to get done before Marshall could come in. I wanted an excuse to take his lunch to his office. I craved the opportunity to talk to him one on one again, even if it was short. I managed to set all of the orders out and pack up my stuff before he came in, so I grabbed his box and excitedly made my way towards his office. I was looking for his name on the doors and almost passed his up because his door was open, making the nameplate hard to see. I backed up and stood in the doorway for a moment, deciding how to announce myself. I finally settled for knocking on the outside wall. There was no answer. I waited for about half a minute before stepping in. I looked around, but his office was empty.

My heart sank a little, but I went to his desk so that I could leave his lunch on it, but it was almost completely covered in files and folders and notepads. There was a small space right in front of his chair that was empty with the exception of a yellow Post It note. Since his desk was full, I decided to leave the box on his chair, but when I circled around to it, I glanced at the note, then did a double take. 

 ‘Thanks for lunch, Fi.’   

I immediately started blushing. I almost wanted to take the note with me but I didn’t. I left his lunch and got out of there before someone came by and wondered why a delivery girl was in one of the detective’s offices smiling like a lunatic. 

The rest of my day, to put it mildly, was a real dumpster fire. I got a flat tire and had to change it on a busy road where no one stopped to help, but a few people did honk. Back at work, I burnt my forearm taking bread out of the oven. Then, when I checked my phone before getting in the car to go home, I saw that I had two unread texts from Demi. One was cold but simply said that being friends with me was no longer working for her. The second, sent an hour later, went into greater detail and basically circled back on her comment the other night about me being ‘immature’. I tried to hold it together, I tried not to let it bother me, but I couldn’t. I sat in my car and cried. It was the only safe space where I could cry like that in peace. Or at least I thought it was. After several minutes, there was a knock on my window. I expected to see Darcy checking in on me. Instead it was Marshall. I was so surprised to see him that I stopped crying immediately and let out a little squeak. 

His brow was knitted together in concern as he made a hand motion for me to roll my window down. I did and he lowered his head to look me in the face. “Are you alright?” 

I tried to smile and nodded, but then I realized how silly that was. No one cries in their car when they’re fine. It wouldn’t take a skilled detective to figure that one out. So I paused, let out a breath, then shook my head. “No. I’m having a bad day,” I said. “But it’ll pass.” 

He didn’t look convinced. “Can I…?” He pointed to my passenger’s seat. 

“Yeah.” I unlocked my doors and wiped at my tears, trying to dry my cheeks as he walked around. When he sat in my car, his knees went up to his chest and his eyes went wide for a second, looking like a confused puppy. I laughed. “You can adjust the seat with the bar in the front,” I said. “Sorry, I should have slid it back before you got in. Mom’s the only person who sits there and she’s pretty tiny.”

“It’s alright,” he said, pulling on the bar under the seat and sending it back almost all the way. He let out a relieved breath as he stretched his long legs out.

“Why…” I started and trailed off. “Is something wrong?”

“No.”

“So you’re not here for your case?”

“No. I wanted to talk to you, but I didn’t have your number. I called here and your boss said that if I hurried, I might catch you.” 

I turned in my seat so that I could look at him better. “What did you need to talk to me about?”

“Will you tell me about your day first?” he asked, reaching out to put his hand on my forearm, right on my burn. It hurt and I instinctively pulled my arm away. He looked confused, his wide puppy eyes coming back. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t going to hurt you. I shouldn’t have -” 

“No, you’re fine. It’s not you.” I pushed my sweater sleeve towards my elbow and held my arm out for him to see. “I burnt myself earlier. I was getting bread out of the oven.”

“Is that what you were upset about?”

“It’s one of the reasons. It’s just been a horrible afternoon.”

“Can I make an offer that might help?”

“Yeah, of course.”

He looked at me, pursing his lovely lips for a moment, then said, “Would you let me buy you coffee?” 

I laughed. “Out of pity?”

He smiled, a full beautiful smile, showing his teeth. “If that’ll make you say yes, then sure.”

“Oh,” I said, heat creeping up my ears. “Oh. You really want to take me out to coffee?”

He swallowed. My eyes were instantly drawn to his Adam’s apple as it moved. “If you would let me, yes.”

I suddenly felt shy and couldn’t look at him. “I, um… I would love to.” 

“Would right now be a good time for you?”

I nodded. “It would be perfect,” I said. “Unless it interferes with your job and your case.”

“We actually closed the case today.” 

I smiled. “So you had the good afternoon,” I said. “Congratulations.” 

“It hardly feels like a victory but I’m pleased that it’s finally closed and to have answers for the family.” 

“You don’t strike me as the type of person who finds victory in any case as long as there are victims.” 

He let out a breath and shook his head. “No, I don’t.” He rubbed his hands on his thighs, almost nervous looking. “So, coffee?”

“Coffee,” I said. “Do you have anywhere particular in mind?”

“There’s a place called South York, do you know it?”

My anxiety hit me in a rush. I was caught between excited nervousness from the offer of coffee with Marshall, to a sudden kick of nerves at the mention of South York. I was trying to figure out a way to politely suggest another place without getting into detail as to why, when he caught my eye and smiled. 

“You don’t like it?” he asked. 

“No, I do, it used to be my favorite.”

“Used to be?” 

“I, um, I just had a bad experience the last time I was there.”

His brow furrowed again as he looked at me more intently. “I have a feeling you’re referring to more than just a bad cup of coffee, yeah?”

I nodded. “But I feel like every time I’m around you, I end up telling you more about myself than you’re bargaining for, so I won’t go into details.”

The corner of his mouth turned up in a slight smirk. “Well, I am a detective and getting people to talk is a big part of my job, so maybe that bit is on me,” he said. “And just because I’m not great at talking doesn’t mean that I mind other people who are.” 

“That’s the thing - I’m not, it’s just when I’m around you.”

“Is that a bad thing, though?”

I rubbed my neck. “I don’t know. My ex-boyfriend used to hate it when I rambled, so it can get annoying, I guess.”

“Is that why you broke up with him? Because he was an idiot?”

I smiled. “I should have dumped him because he was an idiot, but no, he actually broke up with me,” I said, my smile faltering. “Right after I got the call about my dad’s wreck.” I managed to look him in the eye. “We were on a date at South York.” 

I watched his eyes change as he took in what I said. There was no more soft puppy, it was all angry ocean like it had been that night in the bar. I hated admitting to myself how much I liked that look when I knew he was angry on my behalf. 

“He broke up with you after you found out about your father dying?” he asked, his voice tight.

“Dad wasn’t… He died later that night. I just knew that it was a bad car wreck. I went into shock after Mom called me, so I was calm when I told him what happened. He said later that he didn’t think it was that serious because I wasn’t reacting like it was. But the whole time he was driving me to the hospital to drop me off, he kept asking if I understood what was going on, that we were through.” I shook my head. “I had never wanted to throat punch someone as much as I did him, and if he hadn’t been driving, I probably would have.”

“For a completely unrelated reason, I need his full name and last known address.”

I laughed. “There’s a very big part of me that would actually love to give that to you.”

“What’s stopping it and what can I do to change it?” 

“I don’t know that you can change it because what’s stopping it is the other, bigger part of me that would rather start with a clean slate and not be the woman you have to rescue from a bar and has the idiotic ex-boyfriend who needs to be taught a lesson.”

“You’re not either of those.”

“I’m just the wreck you find crying in her car and won’t stop talking?”

He shook his head, his brown curls bouncing at the nape of his neck. “No. You’re the beautiful woman who seems to be holding everything together as best as she can and is having a hard day,” he said. “And who left me a lovely surprise of extra cookies.”

I could hear the blood rushing in my ears as my heart began pounding. I stretched my palms out on my legs, trying to covertly wipe the sweat that was suddenly pouring from them. I swallowed hard. “You think I’m beautiful?” I asked, my voice a rough whisper.

“You are beautiful.” He said it like a fact.

I looked at him from under my lashes, feeling too shy to look at him straight on. “You’re not too shabby yourself.”

South York had been my favorite coffee shop since my senior year of high school, but that afternoon my new favorite became Birchwood Coffee. Sitting at a table by the window with Marshall, feeling the last of the afternoon’s sun shining through, warming me up as we drank coffee while we sat talking was the loveliest feeling that I’d had in a long time. I’d forgotten what it was like to have someone interested in me. Someone who cared enough to ask me questions and actually listen. I’d been lonely for so long, I’d forgotten that that’s what it was. I thought it was just a part of me, like my anxiety used to be, like my grief was. But talking to him I realized it was something far easier to sweep away. At least he made it seem easier. 

“Do you mind if I ask about your daughter?” I said.

“What would you like to know?”

“You told me that she was thirteen, but I don’t think you told me her name.” 

“It’s Faye.” 

“That’s pretty,” I said. “What’s she like?”

He ran a hand over his beard, his fingers combing through it while he thought. He gave a small laugh as he let his hand fall back to his thigh. “She’s stubborn and strong willed, like me. But she’s smarter, far smarter than I was as a teenager. A lot more social, too. Which doesn’t make it easy to keep up with all of her friends, but I try,” he said. “And she can hold her own. She won’t take crap from anyone. Her mother and I got called into a meeting at her school not long ago. A boy had flipped up a girl’s skirt and tried taking a picture. Faye pushed him and he broke his nose when he fell. His parents wanted an apology for assaulting him. She refused. She said that if they were going to excuse him harassing a girl and attempting to violate her privacy as ‘boys just being boys’, then her physical assault to prevent him from doing that was just ‘girls having to be girls’ and that she should get the same slap on the wrist that he got. I said, ‘good girl’ and we both got kicked out.”

I smiled. “Did she get in trouble?”

He shook his head as he picked up his coffee cup. “No. My ex-wife is far more level headed - not to mention better at arguing her point - and she handled it.” 

“Is it hard spending time with her with your job? I imagine you don’t have the typical nine to five hours,” I asked as he took a sip of his coffee. Again, my eyes were drawn to his Adam’s apple. I tried to drag my sight away before he caught me staring. 

“We make it work,” he said. “I try to take her to school as often as I can and she stays over on occasion.” 

He had an errant curl that drooped down over his forehead and I had to restrain myself from reaching out to brush it back. Something about him inspired a desire in me to take care of him. I wanted to make sure he got enough sleep, drank enough water, ate right and regularly while working a case. I couldn’t explain it. 

He set his cup down on the table, his hand still clutching it. His arm was close enough to my own that was resting on the table in front of me that I could feel the heat from it. “How’s your mum?” he asked.

“She’s...okay. She’s going a bit stir crazy and keeps talking about going back to work, but I don’t know if she’s ready for it.”

“What did she do?”

“She taught music. The violin,” I said. “That’s how she met my dad; they both played the violin in the city orchestra when they were in college.”

“Did he teach as well?”

“No. He was a physics engineer. I think music was just a way to shut off the analytical part of his brain for a while.”

“Do you play the violin, too?”

I laughed. “No. That was my form of rebellion, I refused to play it or any stringed instrument.” I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. ���I did play the piano, though.”

“You did? Not anymore?” 

I shrugged. “I haven’t played in the last couple of years. With everything going on, it just slipped to the bottom of my list.”

He nodded. “That’s understandable.” 

“Do you play any instruments?” 

He laughed, the corners of his mouth quirking up in a smile, making a dimple visible on his cheek through his beard. “No, I was never patient enough for that. I was always outside, running about or riding bikes with my brother, getting up to no good.” 

“Were you a trouble maker as a kid?” 

He kept smiling as he nodded. “Nothing terrible. Not like the boys who stole or damaged other people’s property, but yeah, we got into our fair share of trouble.” 

One of the women who worked at the shop came to our table to ask if we needed refills on our coffee. I passed but Marshall accepted. While she poured it for him, I couldn’t help but notice how she looked at him, how unnecessarily close she stood, how her touch lingered on his fingers as she handed his cup back. I couldn’t tell if he was really good at pretending not to notice her attention or if he was so used to having women fawning over him that he’d become oblivious to it. Something told me that it wasn’t the latter. The thought that I held his attention above all of the attractive options surrounding him made my heart flutter. I tried to hold back the smile that thought brought on, but I couldn’t. He noticed. 

“You’re smiling. What are you thinking about?” he asked. 

“I’m thinking that you’re a pretty good cure for a rotten day.” 

Eventually, despite all the coffee he kept drinking, exhaustion seemed to catch up to Marshall. I noticed him yawning more and more, and his already limited talking slowing down. When I pointed it out, he apologized but admitted that he hadn’t slept much while working his case and that it was finally getting to him. I told him that I understood and that as much as I was enjoying myself, it would make me feel even better if he went home and got some much needed sleep. He agreed, but not before asking if we could exchange numbers. I’d never given mine out with so much enthusiasm. 

We’d parked side by side in front of the shop and he walked me to my car. After I unlocked it, I looked at him. He was standing in front of me, the warm lights of the coffee shop shining behind him, lighting him up like some other worldly being. I couldn’t remember ever being more attracted to someone as much as I was him in that moment. 

“Thank you for the coffee. I really enjoyed it,” I said.

“Yeah, I did, too,” he agreed. “Would you like to do it again sometime? Perhaps when I’ve had a little more sleep?”

I smiled. “I’d love to. I’m very interested in what a fully rested Marshall is like.”

He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head slightly, smiling back at me. “I don’t know if he exists anymore, but I can offer you a partially rested one, how’s that?”

“I’ll take it.”

He nodded, chewing the corner of his lip for a moment. “Can I call you?”

It shouldn’t have caused butterflies when he asked me that, we’d just exchanged numbers after all, but the simple act of him asking made my stomach feel like a thousand butterflies had taken flight. I tried to stay calm looking on the outside, though.

“Yes. Of course. Whenever you’re free.”

He gave me a smile, the kind where it was more in his eyes than his mouth, and I loved what it did to his already beautiful eyes. “I’m probably going to go home and sleep for the next four days, so it may be some time after that, but I’ll call you.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” I said. “Now go home and rest.” 

His smile widened. “Yes, ma’am.”

I called out for Mom as soon as I got in the door. She had been in the kitchen and came and met me in the entryway after I locked the door. When I saw her, I let out a happy little squeal. 

“A good date, I take it?” she said, beaming at me. 

“He’s just so stinking handsome!” I exclaimed. “And he’s lovely. And he smells nice. And he’s so warm that you can feel it just by sitting next to him. And I swear he’d be the biggest teddy bear if I could ever get the chance to hug him.” I sighed. “Mom, I feel like a teenager. I’ve not had a crush on someone like this in my entire adult life. I never felt this way about Ezra. Ever.”

“I’m so happy for you, sweetie,” she said. “What Ezra did to you was wrong. Breaking up with you after Dad’s wreck was bad enough, but leaving your stuff on our front lawn while we were at the hospital, and then ransacking your apartment to get his stuff back while we were making funeral arrangements.” She shook her head. “I still get so angry when I think about it. No one deserves being treated that coldly, especially not you, Bird.” 

“And you let him know it, didn’t you?” I said, taking off my coat. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look on his face when you told him to sit down so that you could look him in the eye while you scolded him. That was a lot of anger jam packed in a tiny lady.”

“Am I going to have to do that with your Detective Marshall?” 

“Scold him? I don’t think so. Sit him down so that you can look him in the eye? Absolutely,” I said “But it’s just Marshall, Mom. I’m not naive enough to believe he’s my anything after a single coffee date.”

I may not have believed it, but it didn’t keep me from wanting it. 

[roguesandsaviors]

Dinner Date

Fandom: Grudge Match

Characters: BJ Rose, Shea (OFC), Trey

Pairing: BJ x Shea (OFC)

Summary: An unexpected snag causes BJ and Shea to change up their first date plans.

Word Count: 2,210

Rating: SFW

Warning: None

A/N: A direct follow up to First Meetings. The idea wouldn’t leave me alone but it took me awhile to write. Hopefully everyone enjoys. Happy holidays and for those that don’t celebrate or have a hard time this time of year, hopefully this grants a small smile. Any mistakes are my own.

****************************************************************************************

BJ took one last glance at himself in the mirror, feeling conscious for once about how he looked. Ninety five percent of the time, he lived in sweats. It wasn't a problem with his job unless he had to be at a game. This was a completely different situation though, one that he hadn't dealt with in many years. There was an actual jitter, a nervousness that accompanied the need to ensure he looked put together. The dinner with Shea was looming overhead.

He was ready by three thirty to make sure that there wasn't any sort of hang up. The plan was to pick her up around five thirty. That was the idea until he ended up getting a call from his mom. She wasn't feeling well enough to be able to watch Trey. His stomach dropped but he knew that he couldn't put that on her. She rarely ever backed out, which meant she really wasn't feeling well. Trey was his and that meant that he had to push back whatever was supposed to happen with Shea. Once again, he had the thought that he wasn't in high school.

She had said she wouldn't be home until five, but it wouldn't be polite to wait until then when he knew that the dinner would have to be postponed. So, he sent her a quick text.

I'm sorry Shea. Turns out my mom can't watch Trey tonight. Can we reschedule the dinner?

The seconds crept by as he waited for a reply, even when logically he knew that she might not be able to respond right away. His stomach rolled and he picked up his son from school, giving him no signs that anything was remotely wrong.

The phone buzzed on the ride home but he couldn't look at it. Ushering the young boy inside, he finally freed the phone from his pants. There were three texts of Shea.

You don't need to be sorry. If it isn't too much, I could always cook for the both of you at my place.

That is, if you are okay with that and Trey is too.

I'm sorry. That is super forward and I completely understand if you aren't comfortable.

For a second, all BJ could do was stare at the texts, reading them over and over as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing. She was offering to cook for him and his son after he had asked her out on a date. It seemed a little surreal. Of course then there was the panic that she had somehow overstepped some boundaries. It was sweet of her. BJ took a second to let out a breath and found himself smiling. It was more than what some other women had done. Trey was the most important thing to him and someone he was going to be with had to understand that. She clearly did already since she was including him in this dinner.

Trey had shed his backpack and already gotten himself a drink. She was seeking Trey's acceptance so he might as well ask him.

"Hey bud, come here for a second. I got a question for ya."

"Yeah dad?" Trey wandered over and waited patiently.

"How do you feel about going out for dinner tonight?"

"Like The Stadium?" BJ chuckled and shook his head.

"Nah. Not tonight. You remember Shea from the gym?" He got a nod and continued on. "Well, she offered to make us some dinner if you were okay with that." Trey was eyeing him by now and he knew that those cogs in his head were turning full speed. Sometimes he was too smart for his own good but he was still just an eight year old.

"What's she making?"

"That I don't know. I didn't tell her we were coming yet."

"Well you should do that. How are we supposed to get the food if she doesn't know?"

"I'm going to take care of that right now. Don't you worry." BJ smiled and felt a little more at ease about the whole evening.

You sure that's not too much trouble?

Not at all. Wouldn't have offered if it was. Is 6:30 too late for you guys? Need a little time to throw something together.

Nope. Works perfect.

BJ felt surprised once she had texted the address, the need for quick thinking and nerves set aside for now. They barely knew each other from the gym and she was willing to allow him over to her house. He wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing but he wasn't going to allow himself to second guess anything. The rest of the evening could be played out before he made any judgement on something like that.

****************************

He arrived at the house, easily getting Trey out of his car seat before walking to the front door. Trey  was excited and knocked for them both.

Shea opened the door with a smile.

"Good evening." She stepped aside to let them in. "Please come in."

"Hi Shea!" Trey was chipper and stepped right in, causing a soft laugh to come from BJ as he followed her in.

"Wait a second there. You know you gotta ask if you need to take your shoes off." Trey stopped right in his tracks and turned to look at Shea.

"It's okay. If you don't mind, that would be great." Shea answered with a small smile. "I can take your backpack if you want." Trey handed it over without question and she moved to set it on a hook, one low enough that Trey would still be able to reach it. It struck BJ as odd but he kept his questions to himself for now.

"It smells good in here," BJ complimented.

"Thank you. I wasn't sure what you might like so I went with a few things I was most comfortable making."

"We aren't picky eaters at all. A homemade meal is not something we will complain about."

"Good." She offered them both a smile. Leading them into the house more, she motioned for them to take a seat. "Please make yourself comfortable. Dinner will be ready in just a couple minutes." Trey immediately climbed onto the couch and got himself comfortable. The kid could make himself comfortable anywhere though and BJ knew that it wasn't a bad thing.

"Can I do anything to help?" Shea shook her head and motioned for him to sit down.

"Nope. Not at all. It's almost done. You are my guest and that means you get to relax." She disappeared into the kitchen but it only took a moment for her to call out. "Would you like anything to drink?"

"Ice tea!" Trey answered. BJ reached out and ruffled the boy's hair.

"Ice tea sounds good if you have it."

"Two ice teas coming right up." There was some clinking of glasses before Shea appeared again with a glass in one hand and a cup for Trey in the other. "Here you guys go."

"Thank you," Trey offered, without prompt. Shea gave him a smile.

"You are welcome."

True to her word, the dinner was done in a few minutes. She had plates on the table and was smiling the entire time.

"Some homemade mac and cheese with some chicken for you Trey." If it was possible, it made the eight year old more excited. He already had his fork in hand. "And some orange chicken kale stir fry for us." He was impressed that she had managed to make two meals in a short span of time. Especially a homemade mac and cheese. He settled in at the table.

"Thank you. You didn't have to go through the trouble of cooking two separate dinners." She shrugged it off with a small laugh.

"It's something I'm used to. My sister's kid practically lives off mac and cheese so that's something I could probably cook in my sleep." That could have explained the low hanging hook that she had. She could have her niece or nephew over a lot.

"Wow. This is so much better than the box stuff," Trey announced with enthusiasm, causing both adults to laugh.

"I'm happy to hear such high praise." BJ could see that his son was actually content and comfortable, something that meant more to him than he could put into words. Shea was waiting to see what his reaction was, so he didn't keep her waiting. The food was as good as it smelled, without being too heavy. He swallowed down what he had, remembering his manners.

"It's really good." He could see her visibly relax as he said he liked the food. She had been worried. Maybe he wasn't the only one with nerves over the whole thing. That thought was calming alone and he settled into the dinner.

****************************

The dinner was casual, Shea keeping Trey involved so he would get too bored. The boy was happy to go on about his day at school, having another captive audience besides his father and grandmother. BJ couldn't help but marvel at the back and forth, the interactions just cementing his choice to ask her for dinner. There wasn't a lot of usual first date talk, there really couldn't be given that they weren't by themselves. But BJ wasn't complaining given the thoughtfulness of the invitation to include his son.

"Least I can do is help you clean up," BJ offered at the end of the dinner. He wouldn't feel right leaving her with everything after she had shifted her schedule and cooked for them. Shea consented and BJ moved to get Trey set up to work on some homework while he helped clean the dinner.

The back and forth movements were easy, dishes passed between them as she offered direction on where they went once they were cleaned.

"Thank you. For this I mean." BJ wasn't exactly sure how to approach it but knew that he needed to make it know how much he appreciated the night. "You didn't have to cook for the both of us. It woulda been easier if you just took a rain-check."

"It's no big deal, really," she assured him. "I just didn't want to seem too forward. I know it could have made you uncomfortable."

"I don't think a lot of people would have made the offer. Or included Trey if they did."

"He's a great kid." BJ smiled and let out a soft laugh.

"Yeah, yeah he is." Shea paused and glanced over to him.

"I know it's only a first dinner. But I understand that if anything goes anywhere between us, he has to be included." Her voice was soft as she spoke, unsure if he wanted Trey to know any of that yet. Or even if he was going to want another dinner. BJ paused beside her, once again caught off guard by the way that she was reading everything and offering up more than what others would have. Where had this woman been years ago? "I said my sister has a kid. She's a single mom. Enough guys have come and gone, deciding nothing was worth it because of her son. They get scared off. I have seen what that does to her and to him. That's not something I wanna put anyone else through."

"That's really thoughtful of you," he started. "You're right. Others just don't think about things like that when it comes to the kids. I haven't dated a lot, if I'm being honest with you. He's been my main priority since his mother left." He fell quiet for a moment but Shea didn't push him for anything.

"And he still is. That isn't going to change."

"Wouldn't ever expect it to."

"But, I'd like to think we can add to it. I'm thankful he is as comfortable as he is with people but he definitely likes you. And I'd like to get to know you better. So, maybe we can do this again?" He was hopeful. The evening had gone incredibly well. He was more than happy about it all and definitely wanted to see where this could go. She was right. It was only a first dinner but it was better than any of the first dinners or dates that he had ever had. Most importantly, Trey liked her.

"I'd love that." He felt some instantly relief, the nerves once again having built up as soon as he asked for a second date.

"Next time I'll cook," he offered. "May not be quite as good as this but I have a few things under my belt." He would have to see if it could be just them. They could spend some time talking, really getting to know one another.

"Sounds like a plan to me." They finished up and BJ got Trey all packed up. It was getting late anyway and he needed to get his son home to go to sleep.

"Get home safe," Shea murmured. BJ couldn't help himself. He leaned in and kissed her cheek as he ushered Trey out the door, hiding the action from his son for the time being.

"Thank you again, Shea. Good night."

"Good night Shea!"

"Good night BJ. Good night Trey."

[syrupa]

Hello! can I request a matchup? My name is Yumeji, i’m gay and go by he/him pronouns. My personality type is INFJ. I have short brown curley hair and i’m 5’4. I’m chaotic af, I swear 24/7. I stub my toe? I swear. I do something dumb? I swear. I do literally nothing? I swear. At first i’m pretty quiet though, I need to actually be friends with this person to show my chaotic side. I love PDA, i’d probably be following them anywhere while saying the most random shit. I might just yell CHEESE or something like that for no apparent reason. I act all happy and cheerful, but it’s all usually a facade. I like to act all cheery so people don’t worry about me, but i’m reality I have serious depression and anxiety. My thoughts spiral out of control a lot and I really need a hug to snap me out of it. My hobbies are art, singing and animating. I like cats, star gazing, daydreaming, listening to music and talking with close friends. I dislike good ol father dearest, when people interrupt me while I daydream my life away and vegetables, I don’t like vegetables. Anyway, thank you, I hope I did this right.

these can be seen as platonic or romantic

I match you with...

Momo Yaoyorozu

The two of you met at the park. You and a couple friends decided to meet up there since you all had know idea where to go or what to do. All you guys knew was that you were bored and should do something. Waiting at a bench, thoughts began to spiral around and you couldn't stop them. Luckily for you, a nearby hero-in-training spotted you and your situation. She wanted to help you any way she could. But she didn't know exactly what to do. Momo hasn't really helped anyone stuck in your situation. That didn't mean she was going to stand by and do nothing.

"Excuse me sir but are you alright? Do you need anything? Are you sick?" She asked, rubbing your shoulder. The sudden gesture surprised you and you thought it was one of your friends. Turning your head, you soon realized that wasn't the case. You saw a girl with her dark hair in a tight pony tail and she seemed worried or at the very least least concerned.

Putting on your facade, you smiled and responded to the young girl. "I'm alright ma'm! Thank you for the concern." With a stoic face, she shook her head. "I'm sorry for pushing on the matter but I can tell something is wrong. Is something troubling you? If there is then you can rant about to me, I'm listening." This shocked you a bit. You didn't think some random person would treat you with such kindness. You didn't know how to respond. The young girl seemed to notice your shock. "I'm Momo Yaoyorozu! May I take a seat?" You nodded your head.

"If i am making you uncomfortable, i'll leave whenever you like. I just want to lend you an ear to talk to." You don't know how it happened, but you vented out everything to her. Maybe your feelings were getting too overwhelming? Maybe it was just the spur? You weren't quite sure. But the polite lady comforted you through everything.

"Thank you for... this." You quickly said, trying to wipe away your tears with your sleeve. The girl gave you a genuine smile and offered you a napkin. Wait since when did she have a napkin? "My quirk allows me to create objects." Oh. "Thank you again." You said standing up. "No need to thank me, do you want my number just in case you need someone to vent to again?" Her kindness once again shocked you. "Uh yeah actually, that sounds nice." She swiftly made a pen and notepad to write down her number.

Your interaction with that Yaoyorozu girl never left your mind. She really saw a complete stranger zoning out and said, "Ima change this persons entire day." You stared at the number on your phone. Today you just really needed someone to talk to and you didn't know who. You scrolled through your contacts until you saw hers. The dark haired ponytail girl who comforted you about your problems despite not even knowing you.

Her kind words played back into your head and you found yourself texting her for comfort. Almost instantly after you sent the message she responded, asking if you wanted to vent through a call or just text. Choosing text, you began sending her mountains of text messages, just ranting about life. And she listened. She listened to every single word. She comforted you, gave you amazing advice, and offered you encouraging words. She was so good at this, it was like she was your therapist.

A little after that incident, you thought about how unfair it was for her. She had to make time out of her day for you, some guy she met at the park, just to hear you rant about your dumb problems. You should do something for her, you should give her something in return! Wait she offered to do this, why am i feeling bad? Yeah it was her own fault. Still maybe i should do something for her.

After basically fighting with yourself, you decided you'd ask to meet at the same park you met at to treat her to some coffee. To make it less awkward, you'd invite a friend. You sent her a small text saying, do you want to get some coffee with me and a friend tomorrow? Her response wasn't as quick as it was when you sent the text asking to vent to her but it was still rather fast. ofc! where and when? :) You gave her the information and turned off your phone, heading to bed.

The next day, you got up and got ready for your little hangout. You met up with your friend and headed to the park. At said park, you saw she was already there waiting. You wanted to ease the tension and said. "Well you're early." No shit Sherlock you uttered to yourself. Momo nodded her head with a smile. "Let's start heading off to the coffee place." You and your friend agreed.

The whole thing was surprisingly fun. You mixed well together due to the huge difference in personalities. It wasn't awkward at all and it felt like you were simply hanging out with another friend instead of some random girl who comforted you at the park. After that experience, you started to invite her to more hangouts with your friends. Instead of only speaking to her when you were sad, you began speaking to her on a regular bases, having full on conversations about whatever was on both of your minds. You two had gotten very close and the relationship you built was extraordinary.

The dynamic was basically: Mom and Chaotic Child. I think you already know who is what role.

She's gotten used to the foul things you say. You'll be latching on to her arm and saying the weirdest stuff and she'll just stand there like it's an average Tuesday. (it is for her) Jiro wonders how she hasn't lost her mind by now. Momo will say something about it if your around certain people though. Just making sure you don't get your ass kicked.

Momo has a deep appreciation for art. When you show her your animations, she's so proud of you. Praises you so fucking much it's crazy. If you ever need someone to help you visualize certain poses, she's always up for it. She'll make time out of her day to do it. If you draw her specifically, AAAAAAAAAAA. She'd be so happy and have a huge smile on her face.

Just like how she is with your art, she's super proud of your singing voice. Talks about your voice a lot whenever the topic of music is brought up. She only has good things to say about you. If you write songs, she'll be so supportive of all of them. And if you ever need help with said songs, she'll talk to Jiro and ask her to help you with whatever you need. Momo isn't confidant in her own skills, especially in music, so having someone like Jiro helping you would be more useful in her mind.

It'll take some convincing but if there's a specific role in a song you need her to do then she will do it. Deep down within her she'll be bursting with joy that you chose her for the role out of everyone. Just please help her improve her confidence. She really needs more.

Makes sure no one breaks you out of your daydreams. If they come up to ask you a question whilst you're in your fantasy world, she'll shoo them away and tell them she'll ask you later. Basically Momo will tell them to fuck off in a kind way whilst whispering. If it's something really important and she has to snap you back to reality, she'll speak in a very soft and comforting tone.

One night, Yaomomo felt like crying. Mistake after mistake, every second she felt like she was the biggest failure in the world. Everything felt so overwhelming. It felt as if she was drowning in a lake of sadness. Every single time she tried to climb out, another round of waves hit her. The ruthless cycle left her feeling pathetic, helpless even. Tears threatened to fall from her eyes, but she bit her lip. Momo put on a tight smile and began walking forward.

You and her had arranged a small hangout under the cherry tree in the park you met at. She wanted to be happy for you. She wanted to be happy for her friends. Momo swore to herself that she wouldn't cancel on you. Even if she was at her lowest, she wanted to be there to help and support you.

Her smile was, to you, clearly forced. The girl's raven hair was a mess, seeming like she was pulling it a moment before. The dark eye bags was a dead give away she was tired. Her hands were balled into fists. And if you looked closer, you could see her thumb digging into the soft skin of her hand. Momo was clearly not okay and you were not going to allow that.

"Yaomomo, everything alright?" you said in a tone that made it obvious you were being serious. She simply nodded her head, taking a seat beside you. "Yaomomo I could tell when you're not okay." Her lips formed a straight line as she closed her eyes. It looked like she was thinking hard about something.

You wouldn't push her to talk about whatever was troubling her but you would try to take her mind off it. You took her hand in yours and rubbed circles into her knuckles. Usually you were on the side of being comforted rather than comforting. But you had to be there for her, exactly how she was there for you. Her kindness blew you away the first time you met and now it was finally the time to repay her for not only that kindness, but all the love she's shown you for the amount of time you've known each other.

The simply gesture snapped her out of her thoughts and her eyes darted down to your hand. Momo's lip then turned into a small smile. Tears began forming in her eyes and she pressed her head into your shoulder. Although you couldn't tell exactly what she was thinking and why she was crying, you were glad you could give her some peace of mind. Not a word was said during this interaction.

You sat in silence as you both watched the stars in all their glory. Choosing to ignore the tears that were running down the girl's face, you shifted slightly and turned your head to face hers. "Do you want to lay down on my lap? I think that would be more comfortable than the position you're in." Momo responded with a simple nod and smile that was enough to melt your heart.

After repositioning, Momo's breath turned even again and her tears soon faded. You both began cracking jokes whilst watching the stars. Laughs and giggles filled the cold night's sky. Exchanging a look you both thought the same thought. I would do anything for you.

[lust-bts]

Hey love can you do bts reaction of their s.o wearing their clothes but has no bra on and they can see their nipple through??

ofc!! ngl I love this trope in fics idk why but just yesssss

inc. sexual themes

k s j

you were just stepping out of the bathroom, thanking jin for the t-shirt and cotton men’s shorts which he had lent to you

you weren’t supposed to be staying over but you were feeling pretty sleepy from the few drinks you’d had at the bar nearby with the rest of your friends

and being the loving boyfriend that he was jin had insisted you stay over since it was closer

“it’s okay, petal,” he looked up distractedly from his phone and the first thing he noticed were your pert nipples standing through the shirt after you pushed your hair over your shoulder

he cleared his throat, trying his hardest to stay polite but you noticed anyway and decided to play coy

“what’s up?” you asked with a smile and instantly his blush deepened

“you look really good in my clothes,” he whispered and you cracked a smile

“maybe I should wear your clothes more often,” you suggested, sauntering over so you could crawl up your boyfriend’s body and sit in his lap

m y g

it was a chilly spring evening when you decided to bring yoongi his dinner, he’d been working so hard at the studio that you just knew he hadn’t even thought about feeding himself

when you knocked at the frosted glass door it took a moment before a blacked out figure approached it from the other side of the room and unlocked it

“yn, I didn’t expect you tonight,” he commented, opening the door fully when he saw it was you

“i made too much food for dinner, have you eaten?” you turned to look at him while he closed the door behind you, lifting the bag in your hands to show it off

“that’s sweet and no, I haven’t eaten yet,” he admitted and you grinned but your boyfriends eyes showed something darker going through his mind. “cold outside?” he guessed and you glanced down at your outfit, a pair or black biker shorts underneath yoongi’s t-shirt which you wore like a dress

you hadn’t thought to even put a bra on before you left your apartment because you were so excited at the prospect of surprising your boyfriend

“i- yeah,” you agreed sheepishly before yoongi pulled you closer by your hips

“maybe i should warm you up before we eat, huh?” he smirked, sliding a hand through your hair so he could bring you in for a kiss

j h s

it was the height of summer and you were on vacation with your boyfriend in a villa by the sea

you’d spent the day on the beach before having a bbq and while Hoseok insisted on cleaning the grill you took the chance to go and change, switching your bikini and coverup for one of hoseok’s t-shirts and a pair of boxer shorts

when you stepped outside your boyfriend was nowhere in sight but what had appeared was a water gun

you instantly smiled and picked up the gun before a spray of water hit your legs and you shrieked

“game on!” hoseok called from behind a pillar supporting the upstairs balcony

“it’s so on!” you shot back before running to take cover behind an oversized vase

over the next few minutes you and your boyfriend shot at each other with sprays of water though your boyfriends aim happened to be much better than yours

it wasn’t until there was a long moment of silence, while you were behind the corner of the house catching your breath, that you grew a foreboding feeling

with little water left in the oversized gun you turned the corner only to be ambushed by your boyfriend

“truce! truce!” you called between your laughter and Hoseok finally stopped spraying your body with the cold water from his weapon

“damn, that’s a nice view,” he commented cockily, eyeing your chest while laying his gun to rest against the wall before he pulled you in close. “have you ever had sex in a pool?” he smirked and your heart seized momentarily

“no...”

“let’s go change that,” he insisted, pulling you along with him with a grin

k n j

“here’s those textbooks you asked for,” you looked up when namjoon quietly set the books next to you

you’d been studying all evening in the school library and had left some textbooks at your boyfriends apartment the night before but he was nice enough to walk them down for you

“thank you so much,” you told him quietly before he pulled up a chair beside yours

“how is it going?” he asked politely and you flicked through a bunch of sheets in your notebook

“two classes down, one to go,” you updated him and he nodded

“you want to take a break? i know you’ve been working really hard, i brought snacks,” he rustled though his bag in search of a pack of double stuffed Oreo’s; your favourite

“god yes,” you relented, gladly taking him up on his offer when he opened the pack for you, you took two biscuits out and laid them on top of your notebooks before unzipping your boyfriends hoodie and stripping down to his t-shirt underneath

you hadn’t even noticed how chilly it was in the empty library until a few minutes quietly enjoying your snack had passed and during your conversation your boyfriends eyes strayed further and further down

“see something you like?” you teased, it was no secret that namjoon loved your breasts, so you always liked to call him out on his staring

“yeah,” he smirked, biting his plump lips before standing up, “come on,” he raised his brows suggestively while guiding you out of your chair and taking you into one of the far corners of the room

p j m

“show me one more time,” jimin insisted and you nodded, moving back into your starting position while he played with your phone to restart the song

you’d been in the dance studio all day, practicing your routine for your dance class with your boyfriend’s help but now you were dripping with sweat, your biker shorts were stuck to you like a second skin and jimin’s button up shirt which you’d tied up was clung to you in various places

but you ignored it while you danced, putting your all into the performance

“how was that?” you finished, panting as you walked closer

“perfect, come here,” he pulled you in when you gave him your hand and all of a sudden you were chest to chest, “just one thing”

“what?” you ventured cautiously, worried he was about to critique your performance; not that you had a problem with his feedback

“you should really wear a bra when you show it to your students,” he teased before leaning in for a kiss

k t h

“come on, i need to go shower before we go out,” you tapped your boyfriend’s shoulder and he groaned, rolling into his back to free you

pushing yourself up you reached for taehyung’s black and white silk pattern shirt at the foot of the bed, you loved the luxury of strutting around in one of his many silk tops while you got yourself ready

leaving your boyfriend to relax in the post-sex bliss you busied yourself having a shower

when you were done and dry you replaced your towel with the same silk shirt and buttoned it half way up to cover yourself

the first thing you heard when you got back into the room was your boyfriend wolf whistling and it instantly made you grin and roll your eyes

“you haven’t moved yet?” you sassed and he eyed you with a wicked smirk

“i was waiting for this view exactly,” he taunted, licking his lips before letting a hand fall to his lap over the covers “i already text jimin that we’d be late, so come back to bed for a while”

admittedly, you were absolutely weak to taehyung’s deep drawl and your legs were moving before he was even finished speaking

“that’s it,” he helped you onto the bed, getting comfortable in the mountain of pillows while you sat on his lap “look at you,” he shook his head in disbelief before switching his eyes to you “you’re my dream girl”

“mmh, you know i love it when you praise me like that,” you looped your arms around his neck sweetly while he moved to cup your breasts through his shirt, playing with your peaked nipples

“i can do much better than that, just wait till your taking me again,” he promised and you practically melted into him as he lead you into round two

j j k

without a doubt tiktok had stolen many hours from you; whether it be watching videos from other creators or you creating them yourself it was always an app you had loved and in turn the app loved you, gifting you a decent following of people who loved you’d your content and funnily enough, your boyfriend

so when you had been requested by hundreds of people to try the new ‘wet t-shirt challenge’ you were eager to try it out on jungkook, the challenge was similar to another from a few months ago where women would drop their towels and film their partners reaction

this one was not that different. simply put on a t-shirt and get in the shower before capturing your boyfriends reaction to your appearance

“hey jungkook, i wanna show you something,” you told him, pressing record on the little button at the bottom of the screen as you stepped through the threshold

you had to admit, jungkook’s wet shirt that cling to you now like a bodycon dress wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world but jungkook’s reaction made it all worth it

“holy shit,” he gaped at your barely clothed figure, his eyes scanning from your hips where he could see you lacked panties all the way up to your chest where your lack of undergarments there too have him an almost perfectly clear view of your perky nipples

you giggled behind the camera and he instantly pushed himself away from his desk

“editing can wait,” he mumbled as he scrambled to make his way to you and you stopped recording before things became a little too heated for the app

[ninjakitty15]

Chapter 5: A Basic Witch (Loki x OFC Pairing)

"So archery, huh? Let me guess, you were born in the wrong century."

Clint glanced back at me while flying Tony's "borrowed" flying thing I wasn't quite sure was a plane or jet. "You might actually be worse than Tony with those quips of yours."

"You love it really," I teased.

"Love is a strong word, I tolerate it...moreso with a raise."

I cackled. "They not paying you enough to put up with me? Gotta feed the kids somehow though, right? Have you thought about being a hooker, they're always hiring."

"Do you want him to shoot you?" asked Loki though he had a smirk on the entire time I was bugging Clint.

"I could keep talking but then I took an arrow to the knee," I jested. "Not quite the ring I was hoping for there."

"You know, I read about you people," Clint commented.

"What do you mean 'you people'?"

"Necromancers. Don't you normally require certain things to do what you do? Google images suggest you need a staff at the very least."

I snorted but also took out my new smartphone Tony was nice enough to give me and looked up what people thought necromancers looked like, allowing Loki to see what I see as well. "We also apparently only wear black attire and wear bone jewelry. Really? That's still a stereotype? Bone jewelry? Okay some voodoo practitioners might wear that for shock value but it doesn't have any real purpose and more important is super fucking tacky. We're already made of bones, why do we need more and why wear them on the outside if we need more, they're brittle as fuck, especially if they're old. This is where you got your info from, Clint?"

"Not exclusively," he tried to recover.

"So I'm expected to wear the least practical attire and accessories all time? You any idea how much I stick out looking like Skeletor's little sister here without wearing all black all time while dragging some long metal or wood staff like I'm Sarumon summoning orcs against Rohan. Sure I might blend in well enough at night in all black but the stealth is gone with all the bone jewelry rattling with each movement. Let's just throw some chains in there too, I'm sure they won't see me coming then. Seriously, who comes up with this bullshit? When you caught Loki, did you ask if he gave birth to a horse too?"

"You don't think I did?" Loki responded in amusement while snatching my phone and scrolling through all the depictions of what people thought I'd look like.

"From what I'm told, your adoptive father is too arrogant and vain to ride a horse you created."

"Clever girl. You are correct, that is a myth created to deface me more than they already have. Surprisingly he didn't ask me anything, too busy plotting my death after I got in his head."

"Someone's a sore loser," I mused under my breath so only Loki could hear me. "We there yet? And did you find any actual facts about 'my people' or just what the internet told you?"

"We're nearly there....and I'll let you know when I do," Clint muttered.

"We used to need instruments like a staff or something to be fair," I told Loki quietly. "But they are an eyesore for everyone and can easily get lost, stolen, or broken so we adapted and found another way to channel power. You need three things typically, well two now but at one point it was a staff to channel, a jewel to draw from and collect, and a blade to end it all."

"You don't have any of those though, do you? You were found with just what they told you to wear and what powers you had in you. They didn't..."

"You need to be a necromancer to even know what to do with those three let alone wield them for their intended purpose but no, never had a staff for obvious and previously listed reasons. My blade is kept hidden until I need it which thus far I haven't, as for the jewel...that's hidden elsewhere as well." I stopped at a fanart pic of a necromancer wearing all three items in an over the top armored black robe surrounded by bones. "Well that's just pretentious. Who goes around wearing everything they need to gain the upper hand out for all to see?"

"What about that one? I could see you wearing that," Loki purred, pointing to one necromancer woman wearing a cloak and more or less a black leather bikini while raising a skull above her.

"I bet you could, I wouldn't be caught living in that, nice try."

"Alright, we're here as requested, everyone out of my jet," Clint called back to us.

I opened my mouth to point out it was once again Tony's plane but Loki just held up a hand and shook his head, sometimes it was better to just roll with it. "You've damaged his ego enough, let him dream a little." The plane landed in a park that had been conveniently shut off from the public, probably Tony's doing and we hopped out. I took one long deep breath and smiled at scent of fresh salty sea air and a little bit more. Loki stepped out behind me, in his ironically all black suit in place of armor or leisure robes but he didn't seem to stick out in them, just rocked them like a death metal band, hardcore.

"You feel that?" I murmured under my breath so Clint wouldn't know what we were talking to.

"You're right, there is something otherworldly about this place, something strong but subtle."

"Alright you two, I'll be watching you but won't get in your way unless I have to, go and explore Salem," Clint informed us.

I grinned and lead Loki into the heart of witch city. I took him to all my favorite little shops, both the tourist traps and the legit ones where wiccan things are sold, to some of the museums, explained more of the city's history and how it became a safe haven for those with magic in their blood. Eventually we stopped by where the final resting place of the victims were, the memorial stones that often had fresh flowers resting on so they'd never be forgotten. It was empty beside myself, Loki, and the dead so I dropped to my knees then in front of the small stone gated graveyard, my hands digging into the ground to feel for any unrest and breathed out. Let those who linger rest easy and those with unrest tell me how I can help. My eyes shot open completely white as the unquiet spirits came forward. I could feel Loki watching me from where he stood some feet back but kept my attention to the unseen souls asking for peace. When I did all I could for them, my eyes faded back to their normal murky color and I slowly stood up and brushed myself off, signalling Loki to walk over and beside me.

"All of these people were innocent?" he asked me quietly.

"This wasn't about actual magic, this was about fear and power, this is what you get when you mix religion and politics, the innocent burn while the guilty rises."

"And now people celebrate here what their ancestors were accused of."

"I like to think of it as saying fuck you, we are the children of witches you didn't burn."

"Brilliant," he breathed out. "You're right, I do like this place already."

"Of course I'm right, I'm always right, the sooner you accept it, the happier we'll both be for it."

Loki chuckled but didn't disagree. "When did you find out about this place?"

"As a kid, everyone's taught about the Salem Witch Trials in school, we were then driven there for a field trip like this to see for ourselves. There's many places of magic in America, but this is my absolute favorite place ever. This is my home." I paused mid stroll, took a deep breath in, closed my eyes and opened my arms, welcoming the wonders of witch city.

"Do you hear a high pitched squealing noise?" murmured Loki while watching me embrace my inner witch.

I didn't get a chance to reply as I was suddenly knocked several feet to the side and off my own feet by a pair of boobs with arms attached them engulfing me. "You're alive!" a familiar voice cried in joy.

"Not for much longer if you keep that up," I grumbled, stumbling back onto my feet and straightening up to meet a more familiar face. I was then hugged again and then roughly shaken around almost angrily. "Not everything you love is a fucking cocktail, stop shaking me!"

"Where the hell have you been, woman? We all thought you were killed off or burnt yourself out like the ones that went missing! You left without warning, no calls, no texts, not even a damned email I would've accepted, not a damned thing!" the tall Louisianan woman shaking me around exclaimed.

"Would you believe I was away on business?"

"Your business is here, try again."

"Attacked by ninjas?"

"This ain't feudal Japan."

"Chuck Norris with a bbgun?"

She just glared at me with her hands on her hips tapping a foot impatiently.

"Hydra got me midflight back home."

"Fo realz? How'd they know?"

"Someone had to have tipped them off, I used my aliases the entire time, kept low profile, all that jazz."

She had to sigh and drop the frown in acceptance and squeezed me hard again. "It has been soooo boring without you causing trouble around here, are you back for good?"

I picked up the frown she dropped and shook my head sadly. "Day trip, didn't get out of Hydra on my own, out of the fire and into the frying pan."

"By who?"

I glance back at Loki who was closely watching the two of us, not sure if she was friend or foe to him and the team. "Avengers plus one."

"So that's why it's been boring, you took all the fun with you and didn't think to share, as always."

"Bitch I ain't your source of entertainment, get your own damn rescue team."

"Sharing is caring."

"Do you see the care on my face?"

"I missed your face, can you believe that? I got addicted to IZombie just so I could see someone that looked like you."

"Not the first show I got you hooked on, I regret nothing there."

"Your face though..." she now turned her attention to the god watching from the sidelines. "You're not from around these parts, are you?"

"Where I'm from has been completely destroyed," he replied stiffly.

"Didn't you try to take New York City ages back?"

Before Loki could defend himself, I decided to step in. "Let she who is without a body count, cast the first stone."

"What? I'm not judging, I don't like NYC either but you are the same guy right? God of mischief and alien invasions?"

"I might be," Loki spoke up. "And who are you that seems to know Nell so well."

"I'm her best friend, Zari."

Something clicked in my head about what she said moment earlier then and before more introductions were made, I spoke up. "Hold up, they burnt out?"

Zari blinked and recalled what I brought up and arched an eyebrow. "When they were found they were shells and around their remains was all dead, that has to be it, they burnt out like overrused acid leaking batteries."

"All of the missing?" I murmured.

"All except you...what are you thinking?"

"My zombie senses are tingling. This doesn't feel like a coincidence, that's doesn't feel like an accident either. How many of us are left?"

"A fourth of what we started as."

"We're becoming an endangered species."

"You always wanted to be a tiger as a kid, now you got something in common with them besides a body count."

I scowled or attempted to, I did love tigers after all. "Hunted to near extinction wasn't what I had in mind."

She snickered and glanced at the amused god before returning her attention back to me. "So here for today at least, you show him all the cool places I hope."

I pretended to look offended and held a hand to my chest. "It's like you don't know me at all."

"Either way, there's a few places you missed that I'm sure you'd love to see," she nudged me with a wicked look in her eyes and I instantly knew what she meant.

"By all means, lead the way."

She took us to a small cafe she worked at that actually had a hidden passage way underneath the kitchen and leading to the Hawthorne Hotel, away from Clint's prying eyes for once so we all settled down in a nice suite permanently reserved under Zari's name. There we caught up and explained stuff to Loki we trusted him but not the Avengers with...for reasons. Zari was actually more a witch or voodoo priestess, not as powerful or naturally gifted as a necromancer but still pretty damn dangerous with her own form of death magic.

"Barton probably called in the cavalry in our absence," Loki muttered. "We should return to the open before the Avengers ruin the day again."

"We probably should, would hate for them to ruin my happy place. We should go somewhere public and totally open so they look like idiots before they yell at us though," I suggested.

"That can be arranged easy enough, well done. Zari, it has been a pleasure."

"Look after her, Loki. And Nell...don't let the bastards get you down," she reminded me.

I grinned. "Nevah." I took Loki's outstretched hand once more and green mist swirled around us before we popped up by a bench looking out at the sea by the Waterfront Hotel. I smiled again and didn't let go of his hand, I could feel the ocean then, feel the sun, the sea, everything that drew me to it before I died. "Some day," I murmured.

Loki gave my hand a squeeze and didn't let go as well but kissed the top of it. "I'll make sure of it. Here they come."

Right on cue, Clint followed by Nat and slightly annoyed Steve jogged over to us, all looking different shades of unhappy. We both turned and looked at them innocently while Clint breathed a sign of relief, Nat just rolled her eyes at us, but of course the do-gooder Steve looked like a father about to reprimand his child for sneaking out the window after being grounded.

"You know, while we were hunting you down, I gotta say, this place has its charms," Nat noted.

"Of course it does, can't be a witch without some," I informed her. "Who here likes seafood?"

Steve opened his mouth most likely to lecture me on staying in sight but bless Clint for thinking with his stomach after a long boring day of watching me and Loki frolic around town. His hand shot up almost as fast as his arrows shoot forward so I led the little team to the Oyster Bar by the Waterfront. "Ah food, my second favorite four letter F word."

Eventually it was time to return to homebase as the gang led us back to the jet and I found myself surprisingly worn out from the day of fun, leaning against Loki on the ride back. I found myself too tired to walk out myself when we landed and Loki immediately scooped me up and carried me out of the jet and into the main building himself. My eyes got heavier each second but somehow I could still hear what was going on.

"Clint tells me he lost sight of you two for a bit, you care to explain that?" Tony was demanding.

"Do I care to? Not really since you asked. He got distracted by one of the local performing street witches most likely, did you know theres one going around in full witch garb on rollerblades? Very amusing to say the least," Loki replied smoothly.

"Oh I'm aware Salem is full of weirdoes."

"Which is exactly why you weren't invited, you boring old fart," I muttered, burying my head against Loki's chest to try and drown out their voices only for Loki to laugh against me.

"Don't you take that tone with me, young lady," mused Tony. "I'll have you know I've been voted the world's most interesting man many times."

"And Trump's been voted for president, votes here don't mean shit so you're bragging rights right now are kinda in the crapper."

"Go back to sleep."

I turned to face him in Loki's arms just to stick my tongue out but curled back into Loki after. "Have a good night, don't let the zombies bite."

[irrelevantwriter]

Acceptance

Pairing: (Dracula BBC) Count Dracula x OFC

Rating: SFW

Warnings: Language, some heavy petting, Dracula (bc he’s lethal to the panties and charming af)

Word Count: 6.4K

Summary: Part 1. Elena meets Count Dracula for a date. This is just the start of their journey together...a journey that Dracula intends to last a lifetime. 

AN: Here is a Dracula fic that no one asked for and yet here we are. If you’ve seen my blog, you’ve seen my recent fascination with BBC Dracula and since I cannot be managed, this is the product of such obsession. There are two other parts to this that I will be posting and there’s smut in those so have no fear, Daddy Dracula will be laying down the D bc he def fuuuucks. Enjoy and share with your friends! Feedback is that good shit.

*Check out part two: Decadence

*Unholy Splendor series masterlist 

*Masterlist in bio.

*******************

She pulled the black wool coat tighter around her body, attempting to shield herself from the chilly night air. The streets were still alive with activity, despite the cool temperatures. Every bar and restaurant she passed held the laughing, smiling faces of its patrons. The sight made her optimistic for her own evening.

Her heels clicked against the concrete of the sidewalk as she rounded the corner, dark eyes settling on the place she would be meeting her date. She felt the nerves in her stomach double, the anxiety of meeting someone new making her regret coming out. But one glance across the tables seated behind the glass and she relaxed slightly, eyes finding the man she was meeting in a dimly lit corner.

He was seated against the wall, eyes scanning the bar with a keen interest. His mouth twitched and his fingers thrummed on the surface of the table. He seemed to enjoy people watching. She took a moment longer to observe him without his knowledge, hoping she’d gain something from it. He looked just like his pictures, perhaps even better in person. Perfectly coiffed hair, unblemished white skin, and an air of sophistication and style that made her shiver.

Count Dracula

That was his name. It was odd, but she liked it. It was new and stood out among the many Michael’s, John’s, and Paul’s she’d come to know. She watched as he shook his head at the waiter when offered a menu, apparently not interested in drinking. He adjusted the lapels of his black suit jacket as he leaned back in his chair, eyes never straying far from those around him. He kept off his phone or any other gadget, instead choosing to occupy his time with taking in his surroundings.

Another refreshing tidbit about the mysterious man.

So far she liked what she saw and the nerves for a possible train-wreck of a date soon turned into nerves that it could be a possible success instead.

The thought made her dig in her clutch for her mirror, suddenly self-conscious. She double-checked her makeup, ensuring her face was still pristinely painted. Her raven hair was a bit windblown, but it still held the curl she’d spent an hour trying to achieve. She shut the compact, pleased to see that all of her hard work hadn’t been erased by the elements. It had been drizzling off and on, the night bathed in a permanent haze. It was gloomy and not the best conditions for an outing, but she’d kept her plans anyway. A notion that seemed like a bad idea at the time, but now she found herself simmering with anticipation.

Eyes as dark and limitless as the sky found hers suddenly, startling her. A wave of heated embarrassment flushed through her at the thought of getting caught appraising her appearance. Dracula only smirked, somehow silently beckoning her towards him. She stepped forward into the entryway and let the warmth of the space wash over her. She made her way to the corner, aware that he watched her the entire time. It was intimidating, but not off-putting.

He stood as she approached, his frame much taller than she’d expected. Even in her heels he towered over her, the grace of a gentleman behind his movements. He extended a hand towards her and helped her maneuver the last few tables, finally reaching the empty chair across from him. His touch was cool and smooth, the sensation feeling odd against her own hand.

“Elena?” He asked in a devastatingly handsome accent. It was a question, but he already knew the answer.

“Dracula?” She returned in the same tone, smiling coyly up at him. He chuckled in response, his thumb moving over the top of her hand in a delicate arch. The action made an involuntary shiver travel up her spine. It was imperceptible, but she could swear that he caught the motion. His eyes and lips showed his amusement as he released her hand and pulled out her chair for her.

“It’s nice to finally meet you in the flesh.” He said, moving to help her with her coat. She laughed and nodded as his fingers grazed her shoulders, pulling the wool from her body and hanging it from the back of her chair. Even though she was fully covered, something about his touch made her feel naked. And it wasn’t a feeling she was opposed to, surprisingly.

“Likewise.” She agreed, settling into her seat. His scent filled her nostrils, the smell tingling her senses. It was a unique aroma. He smelled like the rainy night mixed with cologne and something else…something distinct but untraceable to her.

He helped her push in her chair and then seemed to glide back to his own. His all black ensemble was impeccably tailored to his body, the straight lines and creases of the smooth material making him appear statuesque, noble even. They made quite the pair. A couple dressed in black in a dark corner. The mystique of it was enthralling. Something she’d never experienced before on a first date, maybe even ever.

“If I can say, you are more exquisite in person.” His eyes danced over her face and down her covered neck, stopping at where her pulse was hidden beneath the turtle neck.

Elena averted her gaze down, suddenly bashful by his compliment. She was a grown woman, capable of living life without the validation of men, but sitting across from Dracula made her shy away like a school girl while silently begging for more. He was a man of old-fashion charm and she was eating it up like a starved animal. Her mind spoke through the haze, but the woman inside her who longed to be doted on spoke louder, preening for her suitor.

“Quite the flatterer I see…” She teased, crossing her legs. His eyes tracked the movement, licking his lips when he caught a glimpse of her bare flesh. She, in turn, followed him with her eyes, giving herself a moment to study his face. She found the subtle lines of his face beyond attractive, the stories they told speaking to his distinguished age.

“No flattery from me, my dear. I never tell a lie.” He said with a sly smile, inviting her to believe his words and hold his gaze.

So she did.

For the next two hours.

Conversation came easy, laughter was plentiful. She found Dracula to be quite intelligent, his views on various topics surprising her. He was rather interested in her and her life, the steady stream of questions proving so. He observed her, listening to her speak with a curiosity akin to that of a child’s. He was fascinated by her work, puzzled by the idea of someone being so comfortable around the dead. Being a medical examiner was her passion and she hadn’t mind talking about it. Most people were just as confused by her choice, but there was always an underlying tone of disgust. Dracula didn’t possess that. Instead, he seemed to be in awe of her, frightened and infatuated. A combination that pleased her.

“I’m gathering it’s about time for us to leave.” He announced, taking note of the now near empty establishment.

Elena agreed, aware that the staff was politely waiting for them to finish so that they could close up for the night. The time had passed quickly, almost as if they’d been in a vacuum. She couldn’t recall anyone or anything…just him. It had been only the two of them.

They both stood, him assisting her with her coat again as they made their way out. The air was crisp and cold, the droplets of fallen rain covering the streets. There was a fog that still lingered. The sight should’ve been menacing, the perfect setting for a horror story. But it held a quiet beauty that she now admired as she walked with Dracula. Neither of them seemed to be in a rush to end the evening, their unhurried steps a testament to the fact.

She craned her neck up to look at him as they walked, taking in the way he embraced the night. He didn’t even appear to be affected by the cold. His arm brushed hers and he looked down, meeting her stare. He stopped suddenly, turning to face her. She felt her pulse jump as he stepped closer, hovering so close and yet not close enough. His hand barely cradled her face, not giving her a chance to revel in it before he was moving, shifting a strand of hair off her forehead. His long fingers traced down her neck, his palm flattening against the black fabric of her turtleneck. The dress was perfect for both the freezing temperatures and the date. It encased her in a high neck, long sleeves, and a hem that stopped at her knees, the material molding to her curves like honey.

“Are you cold?” He whispered, apparently taking note of the way she shuddered. His stare cascaded over the open front of her coat, once again taking in her feminine form. His hand continued to soothe across her neck and collarbone, the barrier between their flesh doing nothing to ease the lustrous heat that now burned between them.

“No.” Elena replied softly, finding herself angling her neck towards him. His fingers dipped below the turtleneck, pulling the material down and exposing her skin. Her heartbeat quickened and her breathing accelerated as he bent down and burrowed his nose against her. He inhaled deeply, attempting to suffocate in her scent. His other hand rested at her hip, locking her against him.

“You smell divine.” He breathed, burying his face in the crook of her neck. Her long hair created a curtain around him as he trailed his lips across her, goosebumps appearing instantly.

She clung to his jacket, acutely aware that they were still standing in the middle of the street. She anticipated a car or person to interrupt them, but it never happened. Once again it was just the two of them. No one else existed and no one else mattered in that moment.

Suddenly, Dracula was gone. His touch disappeared from her body entirely, not even the ghost of it lingered. Elena blinked away the haze and found him with his back to her, his hand outstretched towards her slightly. She thought she heard a grunt of pain come from his lips, but she couldn’t be sure.

“Dracula, are you alright?” She asked, stepping forward. He faced her, his face devoid of any of the discomfort she’d thought she’d heard from him.

His eyes were glued to her neck, watching as if he was afraid of something. Elena looked down, catching a glimpse of gold. The necklace her father had given her peeked out from the turtleneck, the diamond cross she knew to be hanging from it still concealed by the fabric of her dress. She tucked it back in, patting the piece of jewelry affectionately. He seemed to ease at her actions, his body releasing the tension he’d become twisted by.

“I’m fine, my dear. I seemed to have been hit with an unexpected ache.” He pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers, smiling kindly down at her. He could see the slight traces of worry in her face and he stepped forward, tipping her chin up. “Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”

She felt that rush again at his close proximity. His touch felt different this time though. Less sure, less aggressive. She found herself longing for the confidence of his previous touch, longing for the addictive pull that seared itself onto her skin. His thumb traced over her lips, his blackened orbs taking them in with a longing that matched her own.

“I’d like to see you again, Elena.” He confessed.

She smiled, letting her palms rest flat against his chest. “I’d like that.”

He was pleased with her response, letting his finger trace over her mouth one more time before pulling away.

“Are you alright to make the trip home?”

She nodded, fastening her coat. “My car’s parked just over there.” She pointed to the lot lit up by street lamps.

He followed her arm, nodding in approval. “Good. Can never be too careful at this time of night.”

Elena faltered at what to say next, hoping that there would be a next time. It was almost unexplainable how much she craved to be in his presence. She’d just met him, hardly knew the man and yet she found it difficult to part from him. It was a completely foreign feeling and something she wasn’t entirely sure how to manage.

“I had a wonderful time.”

“Me too.” She mirrored, tensing when he slowly leaned down into her personal space. She wondered if he was going to kiss her. The thought excited her, made the stirrings of arousal come around again.

Instead, Dracula planted a tender kiss to her forehead. His cool lips still managed to electrify her heated skin, the gesture barely a fraction of the intimacy she suddenly craved from him.

“Goodnight, my dear. I will be seeing you soon.”

“Goodnight, Dracula.” She whispered, stepping backwards in the direction of her car. He only watched her, eyes never leaving her as she passed through the darkness. She could feel his stare on her as she walked, the intensity making her feel scorched. His eyes burned her more than his touch did, his true thoughts somehow bleeding into his gaze and radiating onto her. She couldn’t read them, his thoughts, but she knew he wanted her. He wanted her in a way she’d never been desired before. She knew that much. And she knew she didn’t want to shy away from it either.

She took one last glance over her shoulder before she settled into her car. The man was gone, no trace of him left behind.

*****************************************************

Dracula growled as he drained the last vestiges of life from the woman, her alabaster complexion now stained crimson from the gaping hole in her neck. Her body finally held still, her twitching limbs now silenced. The strong pulse that had lured him in now ceased, the beat of her heart now belonging to him.

He wiped his mouth with a handkerchief, the aftertaste not as pleasing as he’d hoped. The entire meal had been done in hopes of satiating a hunger that had practically overwhelmed him. It was a feeling he hadn’t felt in quite some time. Elena’s scent, her alluring flavor had consumed him without having to break her beautiful skin. He’d been ready to take her there in the street, ready to make her his own. The sudden appearance of the crucifix around her neck had put a stop to his insatiable appetite. It was a test of his self-control and restraint, a feeling he hadn’t had to fight with in months. Since awakening in modern times, Dracula had to work hard on being in public. There was hardly a place that laid deserted anymore, even at night. People were always out and what was once an arena of solitude for him was now a buffet. It was quite an adjustment, but one he’d taken on and overcome.

Technology had allowed him to refine his hunting skills, to select his meals with a specificity that had been missing for centuries before. It both delighted and disappointed him. Some things were far too easy, including feeding. The woman he’d chosen tonight had been eager to have him accompany her home. He hadn’t done much beyond charming her, not seeking any redeemable qualities. This was just about satiating a thirst. Nothing more.

He stood up, leaving her drained body on the floor of her bedroom. She was young and beautiful, though nothing like the woman he’d spent a majority of his time with tonight. He found himself thinking fondly of her, the forbidden fruit. He realized how he could use this to his advantage, dangle the innocence in front of himself. It would be torture, but after hundreds of years he also knew that torture had a way of transforming into pleasure. And Dracula most definitely wanted to keep Elena around to fulfill that pleasure.

The streets were quiet as he walked home, full but not satisfied after his spontaneous feeding. He thought more on his sudden plan, a plan to unite Elena with him in eternity. She would make an astounding bride, one he could be proud of. That hadn’t been the original plan, but after bathing himself in her scent and aura, he wanted her by his side. Her ease with the undead intrigued him. A beauty who was in love with the beasts…it was a romantic idea. And it was one he hoped he could monopolize on. If he had it his way, Elena would knowingly give her consent, something he’d never had before. There was potential there and he was going to harvest it. He had nothing but time.

******************************************************************

“Make your way to the back. I’ll be here.”

Elena read the message as she walked up to the restaurant, though the place barely looked open. There were no lights on or neon sign to alert potential customers. It was a simple building with a painted on name across the top of the arched doorway.

Mezzanote

The windows were covered by what appeared to be heavy curtains, the smallest glimpse of orange light shining through a break in the fabric. She hesitated with entering the establishment, unsure of a place she’d never heard of. But she thought of the man she was meeting. They’d had a few dates in recent weeks and her attraction to him was getting stronger by the day. They hadn’t kissed yet, barely touching much at all, but it didn’t seem to matter. He consumed her, a constant presence in her thoughts and dreams. Especially in her dreams, ravaging her body in such a way that was too overpowering for her dormant mind and body. She’d wake up in a cold sweat, feeling the coolness wash over her as if he’d been in her room with her. She’d even gotten up to check her home, but found no evidence of him there, least not physically.

Elena shook herself from her thoughts and stepped forward, too infatuated with the man she’d come to know as Dracula to walk away. It felt like something had ensnared her, unwilling to let her be. She understood that her life was forever going to be changed after making this mysterious man’s acquaintance. It already had.

“Miss, may I take your coat?” The waiter asked as she walked through the door. He was an older gentleman with white hair, his smile kind as he extended a hand towards her.

“Oh, yes. Thank you.” She allowed him to help her remove it while she tried to take in the interior of the restaurant. Her eyes scanned the dark walls, portrait paintings of noblemen and women adorning the space. Large wooden tables with white table cloths sat empty and untouched. The entire place reminded her of another moment in time, perhaps even another century.

She was just about to ask about her date when she met his eyes across the room, the table in the far back. He stood and smiled upon seeing her, his hand beckoning her forward. Elena moved towards him, feeling like a fish on a hook as he brought her in. Her previous anxieties seemed to dissipate once she set eyes on him. All she cared about, all she was concerned with was Dracula.

“My dear Elena, you look ravishing.” He praised, hand reaching for hers instantly. She complied with his silent request, watching as he brought her hand to his mouth. He kept eye contact with her, kissing the back of her hand with a cold touch.

“Thank you. You look quite handsome yourself.”

“Now who’s the flatter?” He retorted with a sly grin and a wink. She laughed and allowed him to assist her in getting comfortable in her seat.

“Touché.”

His fingertips grazed her naked shoulders, before dancing in her hair. Elena melted into the touch, leaning back and into him. She closed her eyes, getting lost in the way he caressed her hair to one side, exposing her neck. The dress she’d chosen sat off-the-shoulder, the burgundy material encasing her breasts to reveal a hint of cleavage.

“I have something for you.” He whispered into her ear, eliciting a shiver. He moved around to his chair that sat across from her and took a seat, reaching into his coat pocket.

“You didn’t have to do that.” She said in surprise, a faint blush already blooming on her cheeks. She watched as he pulled out a black velvet box and slid it over the table cloth and to her. Her eyes widened slightly at the implication of what lay inside. Dracula only smiled in pleased silence as she lifted the lid, revealing a beautiful gold necklace with a diamond encrusted crescent moon and a star attached. It was stunning and looked to be quite expensive.

“Do you like it?” He asked after a moment, taking in her stunned silence.

“Its gorgeous.” She finally replied, running a delicate finger over the small pendant. He stood and came to her side, taking it from the box for her.

“May I?” He asked, gesturing to her neck. She nodded, scooping her hair up so that he could put it on her.

His cold hands felt amazing against her heated skin as he clasped the necklace. He let his hands linger a moment before he pulled them away and went back to his chair, his eyes never leaving the moon and star that now sat just above her cleavage. She stared down at the gift in awe, running her fingertips over it repeatedly.

“Magnificent.”

Elena smiled shyly back at him, the reverence in his voice not lost on her. “I-I don’t know what to say…thank you.” She stammered, still in disbelief at his generosity.

“You are quite welcome, my dear.” Dracula sent a charming smile her way, sending a rush of heat to her core. It wasn’t the first time the man had provoked such a carnal response from her body. It was becoming a common occurrence when in his company.

“Would you like something to drink?” The waiter broke the moment, addressing her as he gestured to the empty wine glass before her.

She noticed the deep red liquid that filled Dracula’s glass and she nodded, pointing to his beverage. “I’ll have what he’s having.”

A beat passed in which the waiter looked to Dracula, as if for approval. It was odd, but over before she could think much on it. Dracula nodded and waved his hand, wordlessly telling the man what he needed to know.

“Did you have any trouble finding the place?” He said once the waiter left them.

“No,  though I’m surprised I’ve never heard of it before. It’s so close to my home.” She said, taking in more of her surroundings as she did. More portraits of men and women of centuries passed decorated the walls, the occasional knick-knack breaking up the art. The entire restaurant was lowly lit, candles and matte bulbs being the only source of light. The place was completely empty aside from them.

“Are we the only ones here?”

“Yes.” He replied simply, gaze straying to her chest.

“Is that normal?”

Dracula leaned back in his chair. Even sitting down he towered over her. “I’ve known the owner for many years. I made an arrangement.” He replied casually.

“Do you always buy your dates expensive gifts and arrange intimate dinners in restaurants?” She arched a manicured brow at him in challenge, a playful smirk pulling at her lips.

“Absolutely not.” He said with a chuckle. He turned serious an instant later, ensuring their matching brown gazes were locked. “You are the exception.”

Elena felt that warmth that had settled inside her start to spread at his words. The man was enchanting. The atmosphere he created was grand, always tinted with mystique and soft intensity. It was indefinable and yet she couldn’t deny herself the possibility of trying to figure it out…figure him out.

“You look lost in thought.” Dracula commented, pulling her from her thoughts. The waiter came back with a bottle of red wine, filling her glass as she thanked him.

“Just trying to understand you.” She admitted, hoping the statement didn’t offend him.

He laughed instead, seemingly entertained by her words. “Understand me how?”

“Usually men who cater to women in such a way want something in return.” She was blunt, not bothering to be subtle as she openly questioned his motives. She sipped from her wine glass as he leant forward, his features unreadable.

“I’m not like the men of this generation, my dear. I’ll think you find that to be true as we get to know each other better.” He raised a finger to her lips, dabbing softly at the corner of her mouth where a drop of red wine sat.

She remained motionless, unwilling to break the spell. For whatever reason, she believed him. And so far, he was right. He was unlike any man she’d been with…any person for that matter.

“I can’t wait.” She whispered with a lick of her lips once he’d pulled away. The heat that exchanged between them across the table was palpable and Elena knew she was going to pursue this, no matter the outcome.

***************************************************************

Dracula laughed as he walked down the darkened street with Elena attached to his arm. They’d left the restaurant an hour ago, the remainder of their time spent walking the night as he escorted her home. He enjoyed talking to her. She was the kind of company he needed. He’d grown tired of having those around him that hung on his every word, their obsession with him no longer enjoyable. For the first time in hundreds of years, he longed for a challenge. He yearned for the intellectual debates, the matching of wits, and the subtle allure that Elena seemed to possess. It’d taken him many years and many lifetimes, but he felt as if he’d finally found the perfect mate.

His eyes caught the glint of the necklace he’d gifted her, his mouth salivating at the sight. The necklace had been a calculated move. They’d had dates since their first, and each time he’d been lucky enough to not be exposed to the cross she’d initially worn. He’d been pleased, but he knew he ran a risk each time, so he bought the necklace weeks ago. The necklace symbolized more than a means of protection from the symbol of purity he despised. It signified her becoming his, the dark now following her everywhere. And though she would wear his mark for a short time, her immortal body would be unmarred and pristine. The necklace would continue to mark her, continue to label her as a creature of the night with him. It was his parting gift. A symbol of his fondness for her.

He’d kept it in his pocket just in case, but hadn’t needed it. Tonight though, the gesture felt right as he watched her walk into the restaurant. She was a spectacular specimen and he was finding it more difficult to control himself the more they spent time together. Her scent was enough to make his eyes roll to the back of his head, her pulse strong enough that he could sometimes feel it echoing in his ears. He longed to deliver the kiss of a vampire to her, to place her in a cocoon of serenity. She’d beg him for more. They always did. And he was sure he’d be unable to deny such a plea from her lips.

“Here we are.” She announced suddenly, stopping at the stoop of a brick townhouse.

“Lovely.” He said as he appraised the well-kept yard, noting the smattering of potted plants and flowers. He gazed down at her, seeing the barely concealed nerves she possessed start to surface.

“Would you like to come in?” She finally asked, her teeth biting into her lip anxiously. He found the habit endearing because she had no idea just the kind of power she held over him.

“Of course.”

She nodded, leading him up the stairs as she removed her keys from her purse. He stood behind her, eyes shifting to the street for any lingering threats. The area was deserted. He could feel her body heat radiating onto him and he had to admit that he stepped a fraction of a step closer, letting it bathe him in a warmth he hadn’t felt in quite some time.

“Come in.” She said once she’d unlocked the door. He did so happily, stepping over the threshold as he took in her home. It was a nice place, clean and well-decorated. It had feminine touches, but nothing over the top. It embodied her spirit well.

Her scent was everywhere and it was making it hard for him to concentrate on anything else. He watched as she took off her coat and hung it on a hook. She gestured to his own and he did the same, handing it over to her. She grabbed his hand and led him further into her home, turning on lamps as she went.

“Would you like a drink?” She asked, making her way to the kitchen as she spoke.

“I’m alright. Thank you.” He replied. He assumed she would pour a glass of something for herself, but instead she grabbed a bottle of water. He was pleased by the choice, not one for tasting the bitterness of alcohol in one’s bloodstream. He’d noticed she hadn’t drank very much at the restaurant either.

“Please, have a seat.” She motioned to the sofa, coming around to join him. He did so, crossing his legs as she removed her heels and pulled her feet up, sitting close but not enough to be touching.

“Your home is charming. It suits you.”

“Thank you. I love it here.”

He listened to the way she spoke fondly of her abode, the sound brining a rare genuine smile to his face. He focused on the necklace still seated comfortably along her chest, the pendant rising and falling with her breaths. It was a mesmerizing thing to watch. He found he could sit and observe her breaths for hours if she’d let him. He wanted to reach out and touch her, really touch her. He’d held back on participating in any real physical contact for fear that he’d lose himself in the sensations. But now, he couldn’t stop himself. He wanted to test the boundaries he’d laid for himself. He wanted to see how far she’d let him go and how far he’d let himself take her.

“This also suits you nicely.” He remarked, lifting a hand to her cleavage and trailing it across the gold chain. He felt the flesh under his touch shiver, though she didn’t pull away. He took a step further and scooted closer, facing her fully now. She only looked on as he cradled her neck in his palm like he’d done so many times before, feeling her pulse start to race. The idea of her heart beating so fast made his pants feel tighter, his blood lust turning into lust of the flesh.

“Is this okay?” He asked, mouth near her ear as he nibbled at her lobe.

“Yes.” Elena breathed out, eyes closed in surrender. His hand trailed down her neck, stopping just short of her breasts before continuing on, palming the soft mounds with ease. She arched into his touch, a gasp leaving her lips as he caressed her.

“Is this?” He asked once again, feeling how pliable she already was under his touch. There was no trace of hesitation or tension in her limbs. And with his keen senses, he could practically smell her arousal, hear the blood starting to rush to the apex of her thighs, anticipating his entrance.

“Yes…” She moaned, angling her neck so that his mouth had better access. Dracula licked and sucked, his teeth barely grazing the surface, but he could still taste her. She was water to a man in the desert. She was the most delectable fruit and her blood was the nectar he needed to survive.

“Kiss me.” She softly demanded, fixing her black gaze on him. Her lips were parted, her breath coming out in quick pants. She was looking up at him through lashes that screamed of feminine innocence. It was a deadly combination and one he was not strong enough to say no to.

He moved in slowly, bringing her forward slightly as he connected their lips. His hands tangled in her hair, enjoying the way the soft tresses felt in his grasp. He kept the pace slow, almost gentle. He knew she’d be confused by the extreme effects, her mind and body suddenly shrouded in heaviness. He felt her relax more against his hold, but her lips still moved with his, her tongue daring his to join hers. So he did.

“Dracula,” She called when he’d pulled away. Her eyes were heavy, but not closed. Her brow was creased, confusion clear on her features. Her hands held onto the lapels of his suit jacket, keeping herself upright.

“The kiss of a vampire has an opioid effect. It’ll wear off soon.” He informed her, pushing a strand of hair off her face.

“Vampire?” She asked, eyes searching his face.

“Yes, my dear. I am a vampire.”

He studied her face closely. Her reaction was slow, but visible. She blinked rapidly, straightening her back as she tried to disconnect herself from him. He easily overpowered her lethargic limbs, keeping her in his arms. She didn’t put up a struggle, though that could’ve been the lingering effects of the kiss still.

“A real vampire? Like you suck blood?”

He chuckled at her questions. Her face was scrunched into an adorable expression as she fought to clear her head against the fog.

“Yes, that is part of it.” He supplied, letting his finger dance along the trim of her dress and the delicious dip of her cleavage. She accepted the touch, settling into his arms once again.

“What’s the other parts?” She dared to ask. Her boldness was attractive, her will strong like her beating heart.

“I’m going to taste you.” He whispered against her lips, catching the delicate moan she released. “Drink you over time. Make you last.” He touched his lips to hers again, but didn’t try to progress the kiss any further. He needed her to remain somewhat coherent. “And then I’m going to make you my bride.”

Elena stared at him for a long moment, her palms flat against his chest. The moment that recognition hit her, he could see it splashed across her features, her eyes going to his unmoving chest.

“You’re not breathing…” There was panic in her tone while her hands searched his upper torso for that elusive thrum of life. “There’s no heartbeat either.”

“I told you, my dear. I’m a vampire. We possess no such thing.” He soothed, enjoying the frantic touch of her hands on his body too much. “You’ll get used to it.”

“Used to it? You aren’t going to kill me?” She asked dazed. It was clear that the sudden revelation and the haze of his kiss still had a hold on her. But even with it all, she wasn’t panicking. Her pulse remained steady. And what he found most interesting of all was that her aroused state only heightened, her aroma practically eclipsing her natural scent.

“Oh, my darling Elena…I’m going to give you life.” He assured her, tapping on the flesh of her neck. “Will you let me do that?”

He could see the reluctance in her face, see the real fear that lived beneath the surface. He wasn’t surprised by it. But she was a different pedigree than the mortals he’d propositioned before. And he knew she’d join him. He’d have it no other way.

“Will it hurt?”

Dracula grinned at her, pleased with her gradual acceptance. “No, I won’t let it.” He said as he bent down to the crook of her neck and moved the chain of her necklace up and out of the way. “You give your consent then? Give your consent for me to take a part of you and carry it with me forever?”

Her agreeance was an important factor to him. It made the blood of those taste so much better, their flavor tailored just for him. It was the addiction he’d been seeking for years and only one in every hundred years seem to materialize. He was going to savor Elena, savor every aspect of her. And then, when she had joined him in eternity, he was going to have her fully.

“Yes.”

He growled and felt the beast start to take hold. The predator began to emerge as his eyes became laser-focused on her pulsing neck, his fangs appearing as saliva filled his mouth. He embedded himself into the smoothness of her flesh, feeling the overwhelming spill of iron splash his tongue and lips. She tasted better than he’d imagined. She was sweet and savory, tickling his taste buds and fueling his insatiable appetite. The immediate gratification hit his insides, sending him soaring with adrenaline. She became one with him as he lapped at her, careful not to overdo it. She tangled her fingers in his hair, tugging at the strands as his lips pulled from her. A moan penetrated the air, the sound like the finest symphony he’d ever heard.

He reunited with her in the place he’d sent her, the red tinted sky illuminating the dead trees that surrounded them. She looked frightened and he immediately reached for her hands, soothing her with his touch.

“Am I dead?” She asked, eyes trying to take in her surroundings.

“No, my dear. You’re with me.” He cradled her cheek, forcing her to meet his gaze. She seemed to calm at his touch, her lips lifting in a slight smile.

“You’re drinking my blood.” Her eyes rolled into the back of her head slightly, her body leaning heavily into his.

“Yes.” He confirmed, caressing her cheek and coercing her to open her eyes. “Are you in pain?” He asked, searching her features for any sign of discomfort.

“No. It feels…amazing.”

Dracula grinned as she blinked up at him, her words making him feel more alive than he had in the past five hundred years.

“Come, darling…” He reached for her hand, pulling her gently with him. “I’ve got so much more in store for my future bride.”

[missmonsters2]

The Color of You || Part II

PAIRING: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader/OFC

Summary: It was another mission Natasha was assigned to. Nothing she hasn’t done before. Same mission, different people. Sent undercover to investigate William Cain, suspect to funding terrorism and smuggling weaponry. Under the disguise of Natanya Rovinski, Natasha is ready for another routine mission. Until she met you, William’s fiancé. 

Warnings: There are dark elements to this series. Also, smut later on. 

Genre: Angst, Romance, Drama, Action

NOTE: I’ve been aggressively reading on color therapy & the psychology of color LOL You’re more than welcome to comment/reply to this post if you would like to be added to a tag list. 

PART I 

PART II of X

Count: 3715

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Natasha was in the middle of her living room, looking over William’s profile again.

She spread out the photos provided to her before leaning back with her fingers holding her chin.

Natasha was still working on her plan. 

Maria had helped her set up dedicated funds to her mission to use as his investor, but she needed more than that.

She needed more than just being a sponsor to him.

She needed to get into his inner circle. 

Idly tapping her chin, Natasha’s thoughts wandered to you from the other night. The sight of you tucking your hair behind your ear and demure smile wouldn’t leave her mind.

How did someone like you end up with someone like William?

The sound of her phone vibrating brought her out of her thoughts. 

Clint: How’s it going over there?

It was Clint texting her to check in on her. Again.

Nat: It’s fine. Stop texting me unless you’re dying.

Clint: ...Rude...

Natasha rolled her eyes with a light smile before looking at the clock. Sighing, she stood up to get prepared for tonight’s events.

William was hosting another event, but this time as part of his political campaign. He was hosting it in his home, so it was a big opportunity for Natasha to look around. 

Her goal of the night was still to obviously information gather but to also take a look around in his home, and secure a personal invite over where there would be more one-on-one time. 

It would also give her an opportunity to get to know you better as well. That night when she caught your eye from across the room, it was like an electrical bolt hitting her that you were more than just a trophy wife to William. 

And when Natasha got that feeling, she was certainly always right. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“You know, this wouldn’t be so bad if you just imagine that you’re on fire and the building is collapsing.”

Natasha snorted as David took a sip from his drink.

“Tell us how you really feel,” she replied with a smirk.

Though she couldn’t blame him. God, she was bored out of her mind. The amount of old white men she had spoken to already this evening was already numbing her mind. 

Natasha had arrived at an appropriate time, neither early nor too late. William had approached her within minutes of her arriving, driving her into a conversation about his campaign, and her thoughts. She had merely nodded her head at the time about his interesting policies, occasionally saying something that would suggest to him that she agreed or shared the same ideology. 

When more guests started to pour in, William regarded her with his own smile, asking if she would be free sometime in the next couple of days to have lunch with him.

It was secured and almost entirely too easy.

Just as the right amount of guests came to keep William busy, she disappeared off to snoop around.

She checked the place from head to toe, every nook and cranny.

But she didn’t find anything suspicious, not even a book out of place. Everything was where it was meant to be. 

And that was off to Natasha. It was like everything was staged to show what William wanted people to see, but Natasha saw that whatever William was hiding, she wouldn’t find it here. 

“So,” David said, breaking Natasha out of her thoughts. “What did you think of William’s fiancé?”

“Have you met her?” Natasha asked in return, watching as David nodded once. 

“Yes, I kind of want to ask her to blink twice if she’s being held against her will because there’s no way William managed to woo a girl like that.”

Natasha chuckled throatily, trying to contain the full burst of laughter that truly wanted to come out. She was coming to appreciate her time spent with David, a man who clearly shared many similar thoughts to her and had no problem saying them out loud. 

“This party is as riveting as watching paint dry, and I think I’ve stayed my obligatory time, I’m going to head out? Are you staying?” David asked as he put his drink down against the bar, dusting his hands off.

“Just a little longer,” Natasha answered. It didn’t feel like she had gotten enough intel on anything other than whatever William was hiding was most likely off base. Not to even mention she hadn’t seen you tonight either. 

“Alright,” David said, taking a step forward before turning to her. “If you’re not doing anything tomorrow, come to my estate and have lunch with me.”

Natasha raised her brow at David but nodded, bidding him goodbye as he left. For another 45 minutes, she made an effort to talk to more people at the party, easily being able to identify who would be sponsoring and donating to William’s campaign. There were a couple of men and women she made a mental note to look into more as they were clearly radicals. 

After Natasha felt like she had done enough for the night, she made a move to leave. As she passed the balcony though, she caught a similar silhouette. She opened the door quietly, pushing through the thick red curtain to find you standing out there alone against the railing. You were wearing another long-sleeved dress that revealed nothing but your curves.

Natasha closed the door softly, content that it shut out the unintelligible noises from inside. 

“Are you not enjoying the party?”

You whipped around, body tensed with a sharp turn of your head at Natasha’s presence. 

“I--”

You coughed lightly, a blush dusting your cheeks as you admitted slowly, “I don’t fit in well with this type of crowd.”

That was interesting, Natasha thought.

From what Natasha knew, you were from an affluential family, although you did just make it out of bankruptcy. 

This was supposed to be your crowd. 

“That’s alright. You’re all the better for not fitting in.” Natasha walked up to the ledge next to you, resting her elbow up before propping her chin on it. There was a slight breeze that brushed against Natasha’s fingers. 

She looked over subtly to you, her eyes drawing down to your neatly trimmed nails, spotting a small line of paint just on the side of your ring finger. Natasha ran her tongue along the inside of her mouth at the sight.

You had your head tilted downwards and slightly to the side, it gave a great view of your slender neck and defined collarbone as you had a soft smile to what Natasha had said.

It was the small things like this that caused the confusion in Natasha. 

You had chosen a man like William Cain to be your husband, and for some reason, Natasha couldn’t ignore that. 

But Natasha could feel that a direct approach with you would cause you to close yourself off. She needed to be careful. 

“And what about you, Miss Rovinski? Are you someone who fits in?” You asked quietly in return.

It was quiet for a moment, and Natasha licked her bottom lip slowly.

“I guess you can say I fit in anywhere but belong nowhere,” Natasha admitted quietly, and when she went to see your expression, it was as if you were not surprised by the answer. 

Perhaps seeing that quality in Natasha.

“Do you want to know something interesting?” Natasha asked, and it seemed the question surprised you, but you nodded, albeit a little hesitantly.

“A few days ago I went to a local café in the morning, and I had overheard a conversation between two men who couldn’t understand how society, women, in particular, were so invested in art and fashion. There was too much emphasis on art, and it was overrated.”

Natasha caught your nervousness at the statement and quirked her lips.

“I didn’t agree with the sentiment as they commented on how the café looked bare and too plain--a problem only art could solve, isn’t that right?”

You hadn’t quite reacted to Natasha’s story, unsure where she was really going with this.

“I went to an artist’s gallery opening a couple months ago, and it featured a painting of a local village she had experienced in her travels. It was filled with such vibrant colors, sharp and soft. No words had accompanied the painting, yet people crowded around it, overwhelmed with emotion. Some people cried, some laughed loudly, and some were echoed by the image--are you understanding me?”

You nodded slowly.

“So, I’ve decided that sometimes art is the only thing that can draw out what people may truly be feeling, leaves a mark that words cannot reach,” Natasha said as she looked up at the starry sky. 

Natasha turned back and gave you a quiet, warm smile. “That’s why I envy artists sometimes for being able to reach people in a different light.”

The hesitance and stiffness in you melted away with Natasha’s words, a rare genuine smile gracing your lips for her. 

Natasha pulled back her arms, looking towards the door.

This was enough for tonight. 

Natasha was leaving before your voice stopped her.

“Thank you...your words have reached me...and they make me incredibly happy.”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Natasha stood in front of two large mahogany doors before they opened to reveal Davidl standing there.

“Natanya, you made it! Did you find it okay?” He greeted her, pulling her into a slight hug and kisses on either side of her cheeks. 

“Yes, my driver seemed to know exactly where he was going.” It seemed like all luxurious private drivers knew where the big players were. 

“Come on in, I’ve got someone preparing us tea and lunch. Are you allergic to anything or any preferences?” David asked as he ushered her in. It was quite a walk to his patio outside. A full garden with a pond and fountain that was well maintained was the view. 

“No, anything will be fine,” Natasha said as she took her seat, placing her small purse onto the table. 

David sat across from her, crossing his legs so that his ankle rested against his thigh, and temple resting against his knuckles.

“Someone else will be coming too,” David said with a casual smile. “My boyfriend.”

Natasha raised her brow. That had explained some things. 

“Why tell me that? What if I was extremely homophobic?” Natasha asked, only to see what David would say.

David let out a genuine laughter.

“Please,” he said after his laugh. “We flock together like birds. I’ve seen you eyeing various women throughout the parties--and men, although it looked like you were eyeing them begrudgingly.”

Natasha wasn’t sure if David had a better eye than she thought or if his gaydar was just that good, either way, she did feel a little exposed.

“What’s your boyfriend like?” Natasha asked, changing the topic from her.

David smiled softly, “Liam’s a photographer. He doesn’t come from money which I like. He’ll call me out on my shit if he thinks I’m being a dickhead. You should see him when I try to do extravagant things.”

David was chuckling by the end of it, the softness bringing a small smile to Natasha’s lips.

“Do your parents know?” Natasha asked.

“Yep,” David sighs. “They think it’s just a phase, but Liam is the one for me, I’m pretty sure. Since I’m the only child, my parents haven’t cut me off yet because they want me to take over the business. Once they see how serious I am, I have no idea how they’ll react. I’m fully prepared to be cut off, but Liam’s been teaching me about putting money away in case that happens.”

Natasha couldn’t help but smile at how endearing this all sounded, a rich man with learning how to save and budget from his financially average boyfriend.

The rest of the afternoon, they had made small idle chat until Liam arrived. He was a pretty athletically fit man, taller than David and nearly hovering over him. He had a boyish soft charm, yet intensity to him that made Natasha see why David was so enamored.

“I saw William today leaving from my photoshoot,” Liam commented as he finished up his meal. 

“Oh?” David commented, disinterestedly. 

“Yeah,” Liam continued. “He was standing outside a café with someone I haven’t recognized from any of the parties or his campaign. He seemed pretty angry with whoever he was talking to since he was shouting and flailing his arms.”

That piqued Natasha’s attention. 

“Oh, wow,” Natasha commented. “What café was it?”

“The one on 18th. There’s a whole bunch of cafés down that street.”

Natasha hummed, storing that information for later. 

The rest of the lunch went smooth, and eventually, David took them inside to his living area. 

Natasha looked at the photos around the room, a lot of it being childhood photos of David. She was intrigued to see so many pictures of him and another boy. It wasn’t until she found a high school photo of David and the man next to him a younger version of William. 

“Wow, you guys really were family friends,” Natasha commented as she took the photo from the ledge to look at it closer.

David hummed. 

“Yeah,” he sighed. “We were actually pretty close back in high school and a little through university.”

“What changed?” Natasha asked because it was clear now that David hated the other man.

David leaned his head on his fist against the chair as Liam sat next to him. “He was always arrogant, don’t get me wrong. But you could tell he cared about things, I guess. I think it all started to change after his dad died midway the first year of university.”

“Oh, it was a car accident, right?” Natasha inquired. That was what was on his file.

David pursed his lip, looking around his home as if to see if anyone else was there. 

“That’s what his family wanted officially published. But the truth is, we don’t really know for sure.”

That was interesting, Natasha thought. Her file should’ve had that. Why was his father’s death so tight-lipped?

She would have to do more digging on that because whatever it was, it was clearly a changing point for William. 

The subject dropped, and they chatted for about another hour before Natasha decided that it was time to go.

“Oh!” David exclaimed before she was leaving. “Before you go, my parents are hosting their 40th anniversary next weekend. Here’s your invitation. I know you’re going to see William and his fiancé...please give this to them.”

“I swear you rich people have a party every week,” Liam mumbled.

Natasha took the invitations, raising her brow at David. Clearly, the man just didn’t want to see William. He smiled widely at her trying to look innocent, and Natasha could only roll her eyes. 

David gave her a parting hug while Liam shook her hand.

This afternoon turned out to be more fulfilling than she thought it was going to be.

She had some useful information to work with. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Maria: Sorry, there’s nothing on his father’s death other than it being a car accident. We’ve even got all the records pulled for the coroner's report and the police records. All points to a car accident. I sent you the photos too. 

Natasha sighed frustratedly as she threw her phone next to her on the couch. 

Fuck, she thought. How could that be? It was evident that within the inner circle, that wasn’t how the man died. 

Why could they pull nothing? 

She supposed she wouldn’t find out unless she got into the inner circle. 

On the bright side, Natasha managed to find who William was talking to at the café by hacking into the street cameras to find the photos of them. 

It was a rather rugged-looking man, definitely not someone who belongs in the affluent circle. She had sent the photos off to see what they could come up with when she got back from lunch that day. 

Her phone dinged again, this time with information sent to her.

The man’s name was Emilio Vartez. Nothing out of the usual other than petty crimes, but the fact that William was associating himself with someone like that was already telling. 

She needed to see if she could find this Emilio Vartez.

Her phone dinged again, but this time to remind her that she needed to stop by The Cain estates. She had scheduled her meeting with William today, and it would be a chance to drop off David’s invitations as well. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“I’m so sorry, Miss Rovinski. Mr. Cain had a sudden work emergency that just came up. He had to leave right away. I’m not too sure when he’ll be back, but he will be reaching back out to you to reschedule.”

William’s assistant was near bowing at Natasha who had simply raised her hand to show it was a no big deal. 

“That’s fine,” Natasha told the assistant to stop her from apologizing. “Actually is the soon-to-be Mrs. Cain here? I need to drop off an invitation.”

The assistant actually looked hesitant to tell Natasha where you were, but it was like she reminded herself that you were now public.

“Oh, yes,” the assistant coughed after a moment. “She’s in her art studio. It’s on the second level, the farthest room in the back. I’m sorry, I would walk you, but I really have to meet up with one of the campaign managers right now.”

Natasha shook her head, “That’s fine, really. I’m sure I will find her. If not, I’ll play Marco-Polo with her.” 

The assistant let out a burst of loud laughter that made Natasha internally jump. 

The assistant laughed the entire way out, and Natasha stood there blinking until she was gone.

After that, Natasha followed the assistant’s directions. She would’ve taken longer to snoop around, but since she already knew she wouldn’t find anything, she went straight to her destination. 

Natasha could see you through the clear window on the door. The studio was large in size, blank canvases and easels lined up on one side. You had your back turned to Natasha in a large men’s dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up in front of a canvas, various paint tubes everywhere. 

Natasha entered the room quietly, just observing you. You head was tilted with your thumb in the middle of the canvas, your paintbrush delicately held between your lips.

“What are you drawing?” 

You jumped as you turned around, paintbrush falling from your mouth. The brush rolled until it hit Natasha’s foot.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Natasha said as she picked up the brush to hand it to you. 

You had your hair in a bun, strands have fallen out. Demurely, you brushed a strand behind your ear as you regarded Natasha. 

“I’m here to give you an invitation to the King’s party next week.”

“I suppose David didn’t want to see William?” You asked with a little mirth in your tone that made Natasha quirk her lips. 

“You know about David’s...feelings?”

“He doesn’t exactly keep it a secret,” you say, delicately opening the envelope. 

“It doesn’t bother you that he feels that way about your husband?”

You merely smiled lopsidedly. 

“My fiancé,” you corrected subtly, “is a politician.”

That’s all you said to explain, but Natasha understood the unsaid words. She eyed your canvas again and looked at your prep work. 

“Watercolor?”

To her surprise, a light blush dusted your cheeks.

“It’s my favorite,” you quietly admitted. 

“Why?” Natasha pried.

You looked at your easel, the faint pencil sketches on your canvas.

“I like that it’s transparent,” you said so faintly that Natasha almost didn’t catch it.

Suddenly, you turned back to face Natasha, eyeing her.

“Do you like the color black?” You asked as you caught onto her black cashmere turtleneck. 

“I do,” Natasha admitted.

“Would you like to hear something interesting about it?” You were looking at Natasha so calmly, it was bringing something out in her.

“Yes.”

“People think that the color black only symbolizes unhappiness, grief, and misery, but studies show that people who are powerful wear the color black--lawyers, judges, Steve Jobs.”

Natasha laughed a little at the last one. 

“Want to hear more?” You said, smiling as Natasha nodded.

“They say people who like the color black are mysterious and like to keep a certain boundary between them and the outside world.”

Natasha tilted her head. “Do you think that of me?”

“I believe only time will let me know.”

You stood up, walking by Natasha before she reached out and grabbed your wrist softly. The action seemed to surprise you as your arm pressed against the sleeve of her shirt.

“Do you like the color green?” Natasha asked as you had shades of green painted across your arm.

“At the moment, yes,” you replied.

“Would you like to know something interesting about it?” Natasha asked, repeating you. You smiled in response.

“Doctors use the color green to help relieve the fatigue in their eyes from the blood during operations, it helps them focus on examining wounds in better detail.”

You tilted your head at the fact, intrigued.

“Want to hear more?” Natasha asked, smiling herself when you nodded.

“They say kind, loyal, and compassionate people pick green as their favorite color.”

You swallowed at the words, overwhelmed by it, but Natasha could tell you were grateful nonetheless. When she released your wrist, your eyes were drawn to the streak of green smudged on her sweater.

“Oh god, I’m sorry, let me get that fo--”

“It’s alright,” Natasha interrupted you, looking at the splash of color on her sleeve. “I think your green goes well against my black.”

When she looked up, you swallowed deeply at her emerald eyes that just peered into you. Natasha was already walking towards the door before she looked back at you, bidding you goodbye for now with a definitive voice.

“I’ll see you soon.”

When Natasha walked out the front door, she clenched her jaw. 

It was only a second, but it made all the difference to Natasha. 

You had jumped before she spoke. 

You weren’t surprised--or scared. 

You expected her to be there.  

PART III