#i started episode one in the morning or afternoon and then i ended the night staring at my laptop with a slack jaw

[crunchycrystals]

will i ever feel the emotion i felt the first time i watched grian's third life finale

[javier-pena]

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Word Count: 5k (so much for short drabble)

Rating: Mature

Summary: You work for the DEA in Colombia. Until one of your missions goes terribly wrong.

Warnings: hurt/comfort | attempted rape (nothing too graphic) | smoking | reader is being held captive | historical inaccuracies | period-appropriate sexism | difficult father-daughter relationship | canon-typical violence (kind of graphic) | panic and distress | brief description of wounds 

Notes: This is the first fic for my 10k follower celebration!!! Thank you, @lokischocolatefountain who requested “I’ll be here when you wake up” with Javier Peña. I hope you like it 🤭 This fic was very much inspired by Gabriel García Márquez' "Noticia de un secuestro" ("News of a Kidnapping") which I highly recommend if you're interested in what Narcos (Season 1) only covers in two episodes, namely the kidnappings of prominent figures in Colombia by the Medellín Cartel in the early 90s. As ever, huge thanks to Dani @alexturner who took the time to ask, "What does this mean?" and made me realize that I, in fact, don't know the answer to that question.

***

It’s night again. Or maybe it’s dawn. You don’t know. The blacked-out windows don’t let in any light. Your days are no longer structured according to the laws of nature (morning – midday – afternoon – evening – night), but according to the laws of your captors (wake up – bathroom – food – nothing – food – sleep). Maybe you’re awake all night and sleep all day. Maybe you only sleep for four hours and are awake for twenty. Neither your mind nor your body can tell the difference any longer.

Right now, for example, you’re in the “nothing” part of your day. It’s just you, rolled up on your mattress in your corner, and your thoughts, looping and looping, making you relive how you ended up here, in this room, somewhere in Colombia. And every single day, right at the end of “nothing” and the start of “food”, you come to the same conclusion: It’s all your fault.

It started with your childhood, you think. No, you can’t blame everything that went wrong in your life on your father, but he certainly did his bid – no matter what you did, it was never enough. Not even when you applied for a transfer to the embassy and you got selected, the youngest woman in DEA history who got an assignment like that. All he had to say to you was, “Huh”. So of course, you had to do better than that.

Here, in Colombia, you found yourself surrounded by men just like your father, old men in suits who sneered at you, confusing you with a secretary, asking you to make coffee and take notes. Old men with guns and enough war stories to fill a book, calling you “little lady” and pinching your cheeks. Old men that were just there, leering at you from corners and doorways. And they all had the face of your father.

Still, no one forced you to raise your hand that Thursday afternoon your floor ran out of coffee, the same afternoon Noonan called you all to a meeting and asked for a volunteer. “Dangerous assignment,” she said, “likely to get you killed.” You should have listened to her. But the looks on all those faces when you raised your hand and said, “I’d be happy to do it,” were worth it. Almost. Because, ultimately, it was the beginning of the end.

One of the men on guard duty today swears loudly and another one growls at him to be quiet. Sometimes they forget there’s a life outside those blacked-out windows and they’re not the only people in this city. You forget that too, but then you hear the voices of people living their lives, the sound of a car backfiring, a dog barking somewhere. If one of you makes the wrong noise, surely, you’ll be discovered.

The three men with you today (tonight?) know that, and so do you. They’re playing cards by the light of a dirty kerosene lamp, sitting so closely together their knees are touching. If they stretched out their legs, their feet would be touching your mattress. The room you’re in is barely big enough for one person, let alone for four. It’s the only room you’ve seen in months, apart from the bathroom they take you to once or twice a day. It’s across a small hallway you haven’t seen because they blindfold you. Every time, for every trip.

You can barely remember a time when not everything you needed to survive was dependent on another person. The autonomy you prided yourself on, your ability to achieve everything on your own, to survive everything on your own, those have been taken away from you. Could you even use the bathroom if no one gave you permission first? You doubt it.

You didn’t need anyone’s permission to go on that undercover mission that ultimately landed you in this tiny square room that is now your entire world. You were the fastest to volunteer, you fit the profile they were looking for: fluent in Spanish, low level enough to not be able to spill any secrets should you get arrested, pretty. It was supposed to be so easy. Infiltrate the Medellín cartel, gather intel, report back. There was even a plan in place to extract you should anything go wrong. And go wrong it did, and nothing was there to break your fall.

Before that, before you watched boys play cards all day, before your only window to the outside world was a small TV, there was one person who tried to get you to back down. You thought he didn’t think you capable of anything because you’re young, inexperienced and a woman, but in hindsight you should have listened to him. It doesn’t matter that the others called him an asshole and you thought he was trying to dissuade you because he was jealous. He knew what he was talking about and you should have listened to him.

The man closest to you lights a cigarette, his face briefly doused in a gloomy red light. You think of them as men because it somehow makes it easier, but he looks barely 16. Your room quickly fills with smoke and you try to suppress a cough so they don’t hit you again.

That’s how this all started, with you getting punched in the stomach.

Your undercover mission asked a lot of you, maybe too much. You were aware that it might be necessary for you to sleep with some of the men you were trying to get close to, and when they asked you about this back at the embassy, you wouldn’t have any problem with it... Until it was about to happen. The man touched you, breathed into your face smelling of cheap alcohol and expensive cigars, and in a moment of sheer panic, you fought back and blew your cover.

That’s it. That’s all. You ruined the mission because you couldn’t lie still for five minutes, and now you’re paying for it.

You know there have been attempts to find you and you know you’re not the only hostage. Right at the beginning, you shared a room with a Colombian journalist who, before that, had shared a room with a famous Colombian TV presenter. You know there are negotiations, you sometimes see on TV that a hostage is returned to their family. One time, there were shouts and sirens and gunshots, but they blindfolded you and put you in a truck. That’s how you ended up here, in this room.

At first, you focused on the stories of the people who made it out alive, not on the stories of the people who didn’t. You’re DEA, and even though you fucked up, you know those three letters are like a protective spell woven around you. Yes, they will hold you captive for as long as possible, yes, they will use you to fight everything you stand for, but they won’t kill you. The more time passes though, the more you doubt anyone is still fighting for your safe return. They might not kill you, but you also won’t be getting out of here.

With every day that passes, with every day you grow weaker and more tired, those men stare at you more and more. At first, they didn’t dare to look at you, ignored you when you tried to talk to them, acted like you weren’t there. Now you catch their eyes on you frequently, hungrily taking you in. They still don’t touch you – not like that, anyway – but they hit you when you’re too loud, they press their fingers over your mouth, the smell of cigarettes and gunpowder making you gag, and sometimes their hands wander, to the small of your back, to your side. Even if you make it out of here alive, you won’t make it out of here unharmed.

It's a different day. At least you think it is. You sleep more and more during your period of nothing, but it isn’t a restful sleep. If anything, it makes you more tired, wearier. You dread waking up and you dread falling asleep and you dread being awake. But something is different today, something has changed while you were asleep. There are only two men with you tonight, and they look at you more and more, their faces unreadable. It unnerves you more than their openly lustful gazes. You pretend to ignore them as best as possible, but it’s hard when you don’t want to turn your back on them.

A third man comes into the room, one you haven’t seen before. He’s big, broad, a tight shirt stretching over his belly, lines around his eyes, thinning hair on his head. He doesn’t look at you, just steps over the two boys and switches on the TV that comes to life with a static crackle. On your mattress, you come alive too, your heart starting with a painful lurch. Whatever it is, this can’t be good for you.

You barely recognize the face on TV. It takes you about a minute to make sense of what you’re seeing, so unfamiliar you’ve become with the ambassador you used to take orders from. She looks the same – it’s you who has changed. Her suit is still perfectly pressed, her hair is still perfectly styled, she still speaks into the cameras in that calm, no-nonsense voice. It’s you who you don’t recognize, you who doesn’t make sense anymore.

It also takes you a while to understand her, to make sense of what she’s saying. You hear the words “hostages” and “negotiation”, and you know she’s talking about you and whoever else there may be, but definitely you. It would explain your captors’ faces. Something has happened, some new development that’s inconveniencing them. Maybe this is it. Maybe you’re being set free. Maybe even tonight. The thought makes you feel light-headed; you have no idea who you are outside of these four walls and that mattress.

“… end of negotiations. We will no longer regard terrorists as equal opposites in this. Any American hostages they might still have, or pretend to have, will, from today onward, be considered missing in action.”

What does that mean? Surely, they wouldn’t just … they wouldn’t just let you die, would they? You’re DEA, you can’t be missing in action, you’re not a soldier. The cartels can’t kill you, they wouldn’t do that. Just how the US wouldn’t abandon you, wouldn’t go on TV to sign your death warrant in front of a live audience. It doesn’t make sense.

You turn to your captors, as if looking for guidance, but they look just as lost as you. Even the big man. He keeps running his fingers through his thin hair, sweat beading on his forehead. One of the boys looks at him too, as if waiting for orders, the other is running the tip of his index finger through the dust on the floor. Why won’t they look at you?

“So we just kill her?” asks the boy who keeps staring at the big man. His name is Andrés Felipe. You know that because another boy let it slip once. You’re not supposed to know their names, and Andrés Felipe made sure that mistake would never happen again, but by then it was too late.

“Not yet,” the man answers. “We have to wait.”

Andrés Felipe groans. “What for? You heard that woman on TV. They’re done negotiating.”

“You don’t know that,” dust boy chimes in. “It could be a ruse.”

Andrés Felipe laughs at him. “As if you know anything about politics. You can’t even read.”

You look at Andrés Felipe then, truly look at him. You need the distraction. You need to pretend it isn’t you they’re talking about, as if your fate doesn’t depend on these three men. And there isn’t much else to do in this room but look. Andrés Felipe is young, younger than you, but older than dust boy. His face is free of wrinkles, free of the tell-tale signs of hunger and a tough upbringing in the favelas. He isn’t here because he needs to be, he’s here because he wants to be. Which also explains why he dares to speak up in front of the big man, whose maturity puts him in charge.

You don’t like Andrés Felipe, never have. Maybe it’s because knowing his name humanizes him and it’s easier to hate a human than some faceless, nameless villain. Maybe it’s because of the cruel glint in his eyes, or the way he beat up that boy who revealed his name. And now there’s his eagerness to kill you. There is no reason for you to feel any sympathy toward him.

“He’s right,” the big man says then. “Maybe they want us to kill all the hostages so they’ll have an excuse to send in the military.”

“They wouldn’t do that,” Andrés Felipe responds. “Everyone would know they’re liars.”

“They’re not,” dust boy dares to speak up again. “Missing in action also means they can be found. If you’re missing, you’re not dead. If the missing people die –”

He can’t finish his sentence because Andrés Felipe slaps him. “Shut up. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The big man doesn’t come to dust boy’s aid. He just smirks. “Quit it, you two, we’re sitting tight until we get our orders.”

“I’m fucking done waiting!” Andrés Felipe shouts and you flinch. He’s too loud. Someone will hear him. And they don’t have any reason to keep you alive now. It’s easier to shoot you and then run. “All I’ve been doing is waiting. Do you think I don’t have anything better to do with my time?”

The big man shushes him. You wish he would hit Andrés Felipe, put him in his place, but he just crosses his arms in front of his chest. “I say we wait.”

You close your eyes and breathe in deeply. Andrés Felipe says something else in that sharp, nasally voice of his, but you refuse to listen. Nothing good can come of it. Either they will kill you or they won’t. You’re too weak to think about either of these options. And you’re not going anywhere until those orders arrive, so you might as well …

When you wake up, the room is quiet, and you immediately know something is wrong. Even before you feel the cool, sharp blade against your neck, and before you smell the stale breath of the man holding it, cowering above you.

“Not one sound,” he hisses, and you recognize Andrés Felipe’s voice, uncomfortably loud in the quiet room. It’s so quiet, too quiet with just the two of you. The sounds of him unbuckling his belt are like explosions against your eardrums. You fight the urge to tell him to be quiet, but then your brain catches up with what your body already knows, and you kick your legs and shake your head.

You almost don’t feel the cut of the knife, but you do feel the hot drops of blood on your neck. “I told you to be quiet,” Andrés Felipe hisses. “Just don’t move.”

But you do, you do move, at least your hands that you ball into fists. You don’t want your life to end like this, in some shack somewhere in Colombia with a knife against your throat and a criminal inside of you. This can’t be it. They have to put you in front of a firing squad at least, don’t they? Not like this. Please, not like this.

Andrés Felipe touches your lower belly trying to unbutton your dirty pants, and you flinch, a terrified groan escaping your lips. The knife cuts deeper into the soft skin of your throat. “Shut up, you stupid bitch,” he growls.

Then there’s blood. Everywhere. It’s in your eyes, your mouth, you breathe it in, you taste it on your tongue. Andrés Felipe collapses on top of you, the knife landing on the mattress with a dull sound. You try to get out from under the heavy body, but you can barely lift his shoulders before your arm starts to tremble.

“Hey.” You wipe the blood out of your eyes to find a man kneeling next to you, shoving Andrés Felipe’s heavy body aside so you can sit up. You don’t know who he is, you’ve never seen him before, but he has to be someone higher up if he dared to kill Andrés Felipe. Because that is what just happened, you slowly realize. Andrés Felipe is dead and you’re covered in his blood.

The strange man reaches for you and you flinch away. “Ma’am, my name is Javier Peña,” he says, his voice steady and calm as if he’s been in this exact situation a million times before. “I’m with the DEA. I’m here to get you out.”

“The DEA?” you repeat, the English sounds feeling foreign in your mouth.

He reaches for you again, touches your shoulder, and this time you don’t flinch away. “You’re safe now.” He squeezes your shoulder, then stands up and holds out his hand to you. You take it and push yourself off the mattress.

“What happened?” you ask, trying to ignore the dead body, half its face gone.

“Maybe we should discuss this –,” Javier starts, but you don’t hear the rest of the sentence. Suddenly it feels like there are cotton balls lodged in your ears and the whole world turns dark, darker than it already is.

Someone is carrying you. You think you must be outside because you feel a light breeze on your face. You don’t remember the last time you smelled fresh air, but when you breathe in deeply, you’re enveloped in cigarette smoke and gunpowder. It’s not unpleasant, you realize with a start. It comes from a heavy leather jacket you’re wrapped in, and from the man carrying you. They never would have carried you like this, carefully, as if you might break, so you know you must be safe.

When you next open your eyes, you’re inside again. The room is so big it startles you at first. But the longer you let your eyes wander, the more your brain adjusts to help you realize you’re in a normal sized living room, sitting on a leather couch, a knitted blanket wrapped around your shoulders. You must have just sat up because your head is spinning and your limbs are trembling, but otherwise you feel like you can finally breathe again.

“Feeling better?”

You’re proud of yourself for not jumping at hearing his voice. “Yeah,” you answer, swallowing to wet your dry throat. You feel an unpleasant tug on your skin where Andrés Felipe cut you twice. “Where am I?”

You turn to look at him. He’s sitting on the couch next to you but with enough distance between the two of you so you don’t touch. He’s holding a half-smoked cigarette between his fingers, trying to hide the look of concern on his face. It’s something you will see a lot from now on, people looking at you as if you’re about to break.

“You’re in my living room,” he answers.

“Why not,” you have to swallow again, “why not at the embassy?”

He taps his foot nervously so his leg is jumping up and down, takes a drag. “Us coming to rescue you … that wasn’t exactly sanctioned by Noonan.”

“So you really are DEA?” you ask, even though there are a million other things you should ask first. Like if the press conference you saw on TV was really true. If Noonan and the United States were really prepared to let the remaining hostages die. But the longer you look at the man next to you, the more familiar he looks.

Javier nods at the same time as you burst out, “You tried to warn me, didn’t you? Back at the embassy? You told me I was in over my head with this. You’re the asshole!”

The surprise on his face is almost enough to make you laugh for the first time in months. “I’m the what?”

You open your mouth, but instead of an answer coming out of it, you start coughing uncontrollably. Your sides are burning by the time you’re done, but Javier is right there next to you with a glass of water that you accept gratefully.

“Let me take a look at your throat,” he says, watching you swallow down the cool liquid.

If you think about it, you haven’t been touched in months. You know you’ll flinch away before he even touches you, so you stiffen your muscles, determined to remain in place.

He must see it all on your face. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I know,” you say through gritted teeth.

His fingers are rough against your skin as he carefully tilts your head to the side. You barely flinch but you whimper because the movement hurts more than you would have thought. He hums quietly before standing up. “I’ll be right back.”

You raise your finger to your neck to find the skin there sticky with blood. Whether it is yours or Andrés Felipe’s you can’t tell. But the unfamiliar feeling makes you tremble again. You wish you could stop that, or at least suppress it. You wish the world would start making sense again. You miss your small room and your mattress and knowing what comes next. You don’t even know if Javier is telling the truth, if he really is who he says he is. Yes, he looks vaguely familiar, but until a few hours ago, you had no idea what time of day it was.

“Hey, hey,” Javier says softly. He is sitting next to you again, closer this time, but he’s still not touching you. “Breathe. You’re safe. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

“None of it makes sense,” you mumble. You’re not sure if he’s heard you, but you do feel the pressure on your chest lighten.

“You have two cuts on your throat,” Javier goes on, shaking a small bottle of disinfectant. “They don’t look too bad, but I’d still like to clean them. Is that okay?”

How do you explain to him that you just spent months asking for permission instead of giving it? How do you explain to him that you don’t know how to decide anything for yourself anymore?

Not sure what to make of your silence, Javier goes on. “You can do it yourself if you want to. I can show you –”

You tilt your head to the side. “No, please. I want you to do it.”

Javier stops shaking the bottle of disinfectant, grabs a cotton ball, and pours some liquid over it. “Tell me if I hurt you.”

He does hurt you. The second he touches the cotton ball to the cut, you want to scream. It burns so much you can hardly take it. But you grit your teeth and you don’t complain. Because you don’t want him to stop. You know it’s just the isolation and the confusion of the last hours and the fact that your world doesn’t make sense anymore, but the way he dabs the cotton ball across the cut, brow furrowed in concentration, makes you feel safe. And you can’t remember the last time you felt like this.

“You’re being so brave,” he mumbles, and surely you must have misheard or you must have imagined it, because he continues in a normal voice, “Tomorrow, you should go see a doctor. I don’t have any medical training and it doesn’t look too bad, but it can’t hurt to be safe.”

You raise your fingers to touch your throat and briefly brush his as he draws them back. “Thank you,” you say when you find your skin free of dried blood. The cotton ball in Javier’s hand is now a blotchy red. “What happened?”

“I was hoping you could tell me,” Javier says, standing up to dispose of the cotton ball. “I think he cut you with a knife.”

“No, not that.” You sink back against the couch cushions and tightly wrap the blanket around yourself. “With Noonan and the hostages.”

Javier, who is standing in the open kitchen with his back toward you, stiffens. “It was just you,” he answers, pretending to clean some dust off the counter. “You were the only American hostage left. Because it took so fucking long to find you.” He turns to you, cringing. “Sorry. I meant it took us forever to find you.”

“You can swear,” you tell him, your cheeks tingling from the unfamiliar sensation of a smile.

He walks back toward you, and it’s as if you’re seeing him for the first time. He’s no longer the jealous man who was trying to get you to back off from a mission he told you you weren’t qualified for. He’s the man who risked his job – and his life – to save you. And you don’t quite know what to do with that.

To your disappointment, he sits down in a chair, not on the couch, and lights another cigarette. “We had your location eventually. But then, two days ago, the cartel released the businessman, the only other American being held. We had to give them three men in exchange, and the exchange almost went wrong. Someone high up in Washington must have decided that’s enough.”

“So it was true, what Noonan said on TV?” You feel hot and cold all over. “It wasn’t a ruse? They were prepared to let me die?”

Javier nods. “Yeah, but I wasn’t.”

Your heart stops for a short while. “Why?”

He shrugs. “You’re one of us.”

“You warned me. You told me not to go on this mission. I thought you were jealous.”

He barks out a short laugh. “No, I thought it was a stupid mission. Too dangerous. Not worth risking the life of one of our agents for. And it was putting all our other informants at risk too.”

You look down at your hands, barely recognizing them underneath the dirt clinging to your skin. “What happens next? Will you get reassigned?”

“I won’t get a medal, that’s for sure.” He takes a drag of his cigarette and his face lights up with a red glow. “Noonan will thank me privately but reprimand me publicly. And then she’ll send you home.”

“Me? Why am I being punished?” Your voice, still hoarse from disuse, rings in your ears.

He laughs again, loudly this time. “Darlin’, Colombia almost killed you. I wouldn’t call it punishment.”

Your heart kickstarts at the use of the diminutive. “I want to stay here. There’s still so much to do.”

He stubs out his cigarette. “What you need to do is take things easy. You just went through a horrible ordeal you haven’t even begun to process. Even if you do stay here, you need a break first.”

You want to protest, but you can’t find the strength. You feel weary, exhausted, like you spent the last month trekking through the jungle without a break. Your body is a heavy lump you hardly have control over.

The next thing you feel is Javier’s arms around you as he holds you tightly. “Hey,” he says again, and you could get used to the softness in his voice. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“No,” you mumble, trying to push him away, suddenly trapped in the memory of closing your eyes and waking up to a man holding a knife cowering above you.

Javier doesn’t take no for an answer. “You’ll sleep in my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

You’re still not sure this is such a good idea, but there is no alternative you can think of, and your body is begging you to lie down on cool, clean sheets and forget the world for a while. You let Javier pull you up, and you manage to stumble not more than once as he leads you into a dark bedroom. He doesn’t switch on the light.

“I’m going to let you sleep in,” he tells you, sitting you down on the edge of the bed. “Do you want me to leave the door open in case you need me?”

“No, that’s fine,” you answer, weakly kicking off your dirty shoes. You just want him to leave so you can close your eyes.

He runs his hand from the top of your head down to your neck in a well-practiced, automatic motion. “I’m a light sleeper – just shout if there’s anything you need.”

You nod, and he finally steps back with a smile on his face. “Good night, Javi,” you say, your head hitting the pillow before you can stop it. He’s already at the door when you add, “And thank you.”

You can’t have been asleep for more than a few minutes when the sound of gunfire wakes you. It’s not close by, but the echo of it still reaches you, and before your brain has time to process, your body is already responding with a sob that shakes you from head to toe.

“I’ve got you,” Javier says, wrapping you up in his arms. You bury your face against his naked shoulder, trying to steady your breath, but you’re crying uncontrollably now.

“I’m sorry,” you sob.

All he does is run his hand up and down your back. “Shhhh, I’m here. Nothing is going to happen to you.”

His warm breath against the top of your head makes your heartbeat slow down, and you finally manage to swallow your tears. “I’m so sorry,” you repeat, feeling like you’re about to die.

“Come on, lie down,” he urges you gently, trying to lower you toward the mattress.

“No!” You cling to him desperately, but he pries your arms off him without much effort.

“I’ll be here, okay?” he soothes you. “Right in that chair over there.”

You don’t know what chair he’s talking about; you didn’t notice one when he led you into the bedroom, but you stopped noticing things a while ago. “Don’t leave me,” you beg.

He brushes your hair out of your face and places a soft kiss against your temple. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

When you next open your eyes, there he is, asleep in an armchair in the corner of the bedroom, the early morning sun dancing across his skin.

[loveinhawkins]

When he’s really tired, Steve will rub at his left eyebrow bone absentmindedly.

Eddie can’t really pinpoint when he first discovered the habit; it just feels like something he has always known.

Like now, the way Steve’s index finger digs into the arch somehow tells him that Steve had a late night, not through choice—probably lay awake until four in the morning, then began his day with a dull ache radiating from the top of his head.

And… Eddie glances at the clock in his hospital room—yup, Steve’s right on time to crash by four in the afternoon.

He would offer his own damn bed were it not for the fact that he’s more than aware Steve would adamantly refuse.

At this point Eddie almost feels like he has no need of a hospital bed himself, although he knows that’s not true: getting discharged’s on the horizon, but he’s not naive enough to think he’s completely recovered yet—knows his aches and pains will no doubt come back with a vengeance when he returns home.

But that doesn’t change the fact that in amongst the bouts of frustration and boredom, of feeling like all he’s doing is waiting, this little in-between is… nice. He’s gotten into the swing of it by now, knows the pattern.

He’ll keep an eye on the clock, let Steve sleep for a couple hours then gently wake him so he isn’t late: he’s got dinner with the Buckleys tonight followed by a viewing of Murder, She Wrote.

Eddie’s picked up enough to work out that it’s a routine which began last fall; Robin said during their first viewing, Steve sat on an armchair which her dad would usually favour without realising, and her dad cracked an incredibly corny joke about the balance of the universe being disrupted—and she had to privately reassure Steve that the man wearing odd socks, jeans and a faded pyjama shirt at 8pm was, in fact, just kidding.

The routine continued even when things were at their most dire—Eddie knows that he almost caused them to miss an episode at the end of Spring Break.

“Yeah, you really should’ve considered that, dude,” Steve had joked—once they were out of the woods, once he was no longer gripping the back of his chair with white knuckles. (When Eddie could finally breathe a little better.)

“We all have flaws,” Robin said magnanimously; Eddie could feel her hand squeezing his beneath the bedsheets.

A soft clatter of a pencil being dropped onto the floor, rolling to an eventual stop.

Steve’s got a pad of paper resting on his knee. It’s one him and Robin share, taking turns at coming up with more and more outlandish predictions for upcoming episodes.

Eddie can see no such notes on the page right now, not even words: just drowsy pencil trails, getting increasingly faint.

The pad slips from Steve’s knee, slides down to the floor to join the pencil.

Steve reaches for it way too late. Eddie smiles.

“Just leave it, Steve,” he says. “I’ll get it.”

Steve hums in vague acknowledgment. Presses a finger just above his eye, blinks so slowly.

“Mm, why?”

Here’s the song and dance; Eddie could set it to music.

“Cause you’re gonna fall asleep,” he teases, sing-song.

Steve feigns bafflement even as his head’s tipping down to the armrest of the couch. Yeah, another sleepover at Robin’s is definitely in the cards.

“Oh, yeah? How’d you—” a yawn, “—figure that, smarty pants?”

“Guess I just know you,” Eddie says.

Steve’s breathing starts to deepen; his hand gradually falls away from his face, lips already forming unintelligible murmurs. Heavy eyes shut.

And here’s another pattern Eddie’s come to know, like sheet music memorised—engraved on his heart.

Because I love you.

[eumppattv]

CHRISTMAS TRADITIONS | ot7 enha

pairing ot7 x reader genre ᩍ fluff, established relationship warnings ꕁ slight cursing ➜ masterlist a/n: requests are open :)

heeseung mario kart ☆ ⊹ ๑

christmas is the only time of year that heeseung wakes up before 1pm. the reason for this is not because of the presents under the tree, but because he gets to take out the nintendo switch, and absolutely destroy you at mario kart. your first date was during christmas, where you played the game for over an hour. so now every year, you have a little competition. at first heeseung is eager to win, but by the end he’s purposely messing up. why? because he loves when you try to be all cocky after you’ve finally beat him. he thinks you’re too cute when you smirk and boast about how you’re better than him.

jay singing by the campfire ☆ ⊹ ๑

obviously jay is going to bust out his guitar any chance he gets. that is why every year, you gather around the campfire with the rest of the boys, and he plays while you eat smores. you of course have to feed him his, because he’s too occupied. then after the boys leave, you both stay out a while, with jay singing for you as you snuggle up to him, trying to keep warm. he sings some christmas songs, and you try to join in though you always say it won’t sound as good as his amazing voice. and of course part of the traditions would be your voice cracking, and jay laughing about it for the next year.

jake dressing layla up ☆ ⊹ ๑

you’re not sure how this tradition started, but it had turned into a vital part of you day. every year, you and jake spend time shopping for christmas outfits for layla, but keep them a secret from each other. then in the morning, you take turns dressing her up and sending her running down the stairs for the big reveal. at the end you vote for which outfit was better, and that person has to pay for dinner. let’s just say; you haven’t paid for dinner in years.

sunghoon going to the ice skating rink ☆ ⊹ ๑

i think sunghoon just likes to see you suffer, because every year he swears you’re getting better at skating; and every year you fall on your ass. still, he lives for the way he has to hold your hands and guide you across the rink. first you’d make sure to wear cute matching outfits, with each of you getting to pick every other year. then he’d teach you a couple warm ups that you have memorized by heart. at the end he’d want to race you across, but he would purposely mess up so you win. he’d then brag about how well he’s taught you, and how you should be paying him back with kisses.

sunoo baking cookies in matching pjs ☆ ⊹ ๑

one thing about sunoo is he loves his matching pj sets, especially the christmas ones. he’ll get pjs with reindeers on them, and insist you wear them. so every year, you wear your pjs and bake cookies- usually plain chocolate chip. although one year he made you try mint choco cookies, and that didn’t go well. you always make the cookies on christmas eve, so you can wake up and run to the kitchen before you open your gifts. sometimes sunoo wakes up in the middle of the night and grabs a few, claiming it was santa claus or ni-ki.

jungwon decorating your tree ☆ ⊹ ๑

yes you and jungwon spend hours decorating your tree, but the real tradition comes after you have opened all your presents. every christmas, you spend the morning opening your gifts, and the afternoon out at your favorite vintage shop. there you pick out one christmas tree ornament that represents you both for that year, to signify another year together. then the next christmas you add that ornament to the tree, and the cycle continues. jungwon says it’s a symbol of your ever growing love each year.

ni-ki snowball fights ☆ ⊹ ๑

i’m thinking like that one spongebob episode where they have the crazy snowball fight. you would go out, and spend a whole afternoon in the snow. he would try to build a snow fort to protect himself, while you desperately tried to sneak attack him. then you would hit him and he’d fall down dramatically, saying it actually hurt a lot. he would wait for you to comfort him, and then when you’re getting close he would throw a snowball at you and run away laughing.

🝮 taglist open!

@avocarua @kpoprhia @haechansbbg @yeehawnana @lilly-bubblelops @aishigrey @gweoriz @soul-is-a-strange-kid @dior-girlie @gigification

[crowdedimagines]

Roadkill - Aaron Hotchner Imagine

Based around the season 4 episode 23 titled Roadkill! I am going through a rewatch right now and just watched this one!! Also I am trying to stick to the storyline of the episode, but obviously things will be a little different in how they play out 🤩 3.6K

"How do you feel about Oregon?" JJ asks immediately after I pick up on the third ring.

"I have a feeling I would like Oregon a lot more when it isn't 3:00a.m." I tease, sitting up in bed, already knowing whatever she's calling for is going to be bad enough to to call us in this early.

"Can you be in to the office to brief in an hour? Wheels are up around 4:30."

"I'll be there!"

We both get off the phone so we can pack our go bags and get the day started, although earlier for both of us then intended. I manage to take a fast shower by the time I get out my phone is ringing again, this time it's unit leader Aaron Hotchner.

"I assume you've been informed that we have a case and we're meeting shortly." Hotch has his stern, yet tired voice on.

"Yep, showered squeaky clean. I just need some coffee and I will be on my way!" I smile, wringing out the moisture that's still in my hair and put the phone on speaker to set it down on the bathroom counter.

"I actually just made too much, I'm on my way in now. I could bring you coffee." He offers.

I pause in my actions, surprised by the offer. Although I would've been a lot more shocked a couple weeks ago. When I started with the team Hotch was going through a divorce, but in recent weeks there's been a shift in our dynamic and I'm not sure I'm dreaming it up. It all started a couple weeks back when I dropped off some baked goods after a rare long weekend away from work for him and Jack since it was his weekend to have him. They invited me to stay and I spent the rest of the afternoon with the boys. By the end of the night I was calling him by his first name instead of 'Hotch' which was a new development. Ever since it's been small gestures and looks that tell me something is different.

I've been a part of the BAU for a couple years, growing in confidence and skill the more cases I get under my belt. I spent four years in the military as a designated marksman before continuing my training with the FBI, which lead me to the Counterterrorism Division, and then to the BAU.

"That sounds great actually." I grin. Bringing me coffee to work is another new thing. Aaron has been chattier, smiling more, but coffee is a new ball park.

"Alright, I will be in around twenty. Drive safe."

I mutter back a "you too" before we both hang up. As I make my way into the office I'm the first to reach the bullpen, I came a little early once I knew Aaron was going to be in. A traveling mug is sitting on my desk and I take a long sip. It's still hot, and it's exactly how I always make it. It's also the traveling mug he almost always can be seen with. I set my bag down by my desk before climbing up the stairs to Aaron's office.

"Good morning." I knock lightly on his open door, "Thank you for this. It's perfect."

He looks up from the folder in front of him and the frown leaves his face.

"I'm glad."

I take a seat in one of the chairs across from his desk. It'll be fifteen minutes before the rest of the team joins us. Hotch begins to fill me in on some of the details without going too much into it. We still have to brief as a team.

"I don't think I've ever heard of a vehicle being used as the weapon." I surmise.

"It's highly rare. I've never seen a case likely this first hand." Aaron admits and we discuss a few more aspects of the case.

Eventually the rest of the team trickles in and after some light conversation I go back to my desk. Garcia comes in stomping directly to my desk.

"What's up?" I ask.

"Kevin is looking into a working a secret job and I wont even know where he'll be!" She gushes.

"Slow down, he what?" I spin around in my chair. Garcia fills me in on the details of the job and exactly what he had said to her. The worry on her face is permanent.

"Don't worry yet. He hasn't gotten the job, and if he's offered, you don't even know if he'll take it! Lets just wait to worry once we have something to worry about."

Penelope nods agreeing with my words before moving onto Morgan's desk to do the same and I smile and shake my head. JJ pulls us all into the conference room.

"An unsub that kills with his car." Emily states, "I haven't seen that before."

"Neither have the police in Bend, Oregon." JJ replies, displaying pictures on the screen in front of us.

"Two victims in the last twelve days." Hotch adds, "First was hit on a morning jog and the second was a woman stranded after her car broke down."

"Both female victims, but completely different age groups." I speak up, "The first victim was 23 and the second was 43."

"Maybe they aren't connected." Morgan thinks out loud.

JJ pulls up more pictures and explains that both victims were backed over after they were hit. No chance of accident and the same tread marks at both scenes.

"With where these wounds are, the worst of the blow is high on the bodies." I comment looking through the file, "It has to be a truck or SUV to match these wound patterns."

"See if Garcia can follow that. Try tracking makes and models." Aaron directs.

"There should be significant front end damage to the vehicle." Spencer chimes in.

"Unless our unsub is smart enough and skilled enough to cover his tracks." I begin, "Somehow I don't think it'll be as easy as finding a damaged truck."

It's a five hour flight from DC all the way to Bend but thankfully it gives us all the opportunity to rest up again. By the time we land we can go straight to the police station.

"I think it's safe to say our unsub is male." I read over the case file, thinking out loud with Aaron. This is something new too, we often brainstorm together and work well to get the other thinking outside the box.

"I agree." Hotch nods, "Given what we know about aggressive driving and road rage."

"And the fact that men have an unnatural bond with their cars." Emily laughs. JJ chimes in to agree, which turns into Morgan disagreeing before Rossi is also adding to it.

"I think he has to be overcompensating. Why else have a need for a truck that big." I guess.

"Possibly." Spencer comments, "If the unsub is physically defective the car not only gives the power and control he otherwise lacks, but it also serves as a shield."

"A way for him to avoid physical contact?" Hotch asks.

"He wants power and control of his victims." Prentiss shutters, "Female victims. It almost reads like an assault profile."

"I wanna know why he isn't getting personal with it then. If this is how he assaults women, what if there's something that prevents him from going a more traditional route. It's possible he's disabled." I suggest.

Hotch tells Garcia to look into it to see if anything recent could be a trigger and to look at the people surrounding the victims. Morgan and Rossi head to the highway to get a feel for it and see what they can get from it from the second victim's scene. Hotch and I head to where the jogger was hit.

"Not a lot of people jog here. It's a physically demanding hike." The sheriff informs gesturing to the trail.

"Well, she was a triathlete." I remind.

"The assailant drove behind her and ran her down right here." The sheriff walks us in to where the red stained gravel remains.

"She was jogging alone? Any woman would know if a car was following her up the trail. Her intuition would've been driving her crazy. She would get off the trail or call for help."

"What if he was already here waiting." Hotch agrees, taking in the scene, "What if she was the reason he was here and it wasn't random. He was waiting for her specifically."

"That would mean we underestimated him. It wasn't a random attack, it was planned and vindictive.

The team meets back at the station to go over what we've discovered. The second victim's husband comes in and recalls seeing a large black truck parked by their house giving us something. This confirms that he's targeting and stalking specific individuals.

"Ready be done for the night?" Aaron asks, he peeks his head into the conference room that only I occupy at this point. The rest of the team has already gone to the hotel to call it a night, but Aaron was still talking with the husband and I was just pouring over people in the area that raised some of Garcia's flags based on what we know so far.

"I suppose." I close the file I had been reading and rub at my eyes.

"It'll still be there tomorrow." He reminds.

"I know, the sooner the better though." That's something I don't need to remind him on. We both know it all too well. With an unsub this aggressive we know he isn't stopping anytime soon.

The drive to the hotel is short and comfortably quiet. Neither Aaron or myself have the energy to discuss anything as we're going on a fifteen hour day.

"Goodnight, Y/n." Aaron carried my bag in from the car to the foot of my bed in my room, even with multiple reassurances that I could carry it just fine. I give him a soft knowing smile before he leaves for his own room.

The next morning it's discovered that the unsub sabotaged the second victims car in order to strand them. He's very focused and well planned.

"We need to figure out why he's picking these women." Hotch states, "What makes them a target and links them together."

"Road rage, maybe they cut him off at some point?" I question, "Also how does he have the time to stalking these women to know their routines, sabotage a car, park and wait."

"Roughly eight percent of the United States is unemployed." Reid rattles off.

"Including someone who could be disabled and lives off of a pension." I remind from my earlier guess."

"Have Garcia look into it." Hotch states before walking away and I smile.

"Pretty girl is on top of it this case." Morgan teases with a smirk.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I roll my eyes.

"Maybe it's something to do with her getting the case early and going over it with Hotch before our team briefing." Reid says with his nose already in a new file. I can feel my face turn a shade of red.

"Pretty girl is getting extra credit!" Prentiss joins in happy to tease, even adopting Morgan's typical nickname for me and Penelope.

"I don't know what you guys are talking about. I simply got in early and we were both at the office." I take a sip of my coffee, looking for any distraction, reaching out to grab a file for myself to ready through. I'm really glad that I didn't bring Hotch's travel mug in from the hotel, I still have it and I almost used it today. That definitely wouldn't go unnoticed with the people surrounding me.

Thankfully the team lets us move on and were able to brainstorm some more. Unfortunately it doesn't take long for JJ to interrupt to tell us there's been a third victim.

"Impact nearly cut him in two." The sheriff explains.

"Male victim?" I question as we arrive on the scene. The unsub hit him in a parking garage, pinning him between the truck and elevator doors. "He's getting more aggressive."

Cigarettes butts are discovered where the truck was parked in waiting. All of them stripped of the filter showing signs that he's military.

"Guys I think I know what ties the victims together." Reid interrupts, "All of the victims drove two door red coupes."

Garcia was able to look into car accidents that left someone injured enough to the point that he can't kill traditionally. He holds the person responsible for his accident for killing his loved one and his own disability. There's nearly twenty five people to still filter out off of the specifications we gave her.

"Wait you guys I think I found it." I sit up from the most recent file that had red flags, "Ian and Sheila Coakley crashed while driving home from Napa Valley on route 7 around midnight. It appeared their car was run off the road. His wife died at the scene."

"And Ian?" Rossi asks.

"He survived although he suffered a spinal cord injury."

Morgan and Prentiss go to his doctor to verify some information while we try to track down Ian. His house foreclosed after the accident.

"Track the parts for his specific truck. He's been doing his own repairs so they have to be sent somewhere." Rossi suggests to Garcia.

"Rossi gets a gold star!" Garcia sings, "He's having the parts drop shipped, I'm sending you guys the address."

"Hey, what do I get for knowing he would be disabled?" I jest, I called that from the plane.

"Nothing but my love, sugar." Garcia says before hanging up.

"I don't have a gold star, but well done Y/Ln." Aaron nods.

Arriving at the home Ian had been renting we find it empty but lots of surveillance photos of the victims and one other person who hasn't been harmed.

"Send this to Garcia now, we need to know who this is." Rossi hands me the picture. I send it to her and she's able to run his plate from the image.

It doesn't take her long to find him and contact his home, where she finds out that he's out biking with a group doing a thirty mile loop.

"Y/n, you're with me. We'll take the north side, Morgan and Rossi you start south and we'll meet in the middle." I quickly get in the passenger side of the SUV and Aaron takes off.

The biking club that target is in covers a lot of milage as Aaron speeds through the dirt road trying so hard to meet the group before the unsub does. Eventually we're closing in, but unfortunately the black truck is ahead of us and gaining on the bikers faster than we're gaining on him.

"Hold on." Aaron takes a risk by cutting Ian off before he can clip the mass of bicyclists. He does this by driving the front left corner of our car into the back right of his truck.

The airbags go off and were spun around from the impact.

"Y/n." Aaron calls. He says it a second time with more panic when I don't answer.

"I'm okay." I groan. The unsub is attempting to back his truck out of the ditch we're both stuck in to finish his mission. He took a much less impactful hit from our collision. I unclip my seatbelt and swing open my door, shattered glass falling from my lap as I stand up.

"Y/n, wait." Aaron instructs, he pulls hard on his seatbelt. It seems like he's stuck from the accident, but the worry on his face is only for me. I give him a look to say I've got this, while he continues to pull at his jammed seatbelt.

"Ian Coakley." I call out, and the man looks over to me briefly. It registers on his face that I am holding my gun and it's aimed for him, he has tears in his eyes.

"This is for Sheila." he floors it heading straight for the group that's waiting after witnessing the accident.

I plant my feet and aim for the back window of the truck, hoping to hit Ian's shoulder. Enough to stop him in his tracks before can harm anyone else without killing him. I've done enough killing myself over the years, and even with all he's done he's a man suffering with the grief of accidentally killing his wife.

The bullet leaves my gun with a loud crack, shattering the back window of the truck. He swerves but not enough to take him off the road. I let out a breath and fire again, this time sending a bullet into the back of his chair and sending his car off the road again to be stopped by a tree. I let out a huff of exhaustion from the impact leaning against the SUV.

Morgan and Rossi pull up and stop to get out and help Aaron and I after seeing our totaled SUV.

"Go" I wave them to keep driving to the unsub to see if he's ok and they do. Aaron manages to get out of the car finally, I hear Morgan call out to radio in an ambulance.

"He's still alive." Rossi shouts to us referring to Ian, they have him laying down now while applying pressure to his wound. The top of his shoulder which shouldn't be fatal, I sigh in relief.

"Are you okay?" Aaron asks finally rounding the back of the car to join me where I stand, he steadies himself. I nod, finally putting my gun away, feeling how stiff my body is.

Aaron fully ignores my nod, taking my head in his hands and pulling my eyelid open to check for signs of a brain bleed. He wipes at my forehead, pulling back his hand with blood on it. Maybe we were hit harder than I thought. Damn airbags.

"I think you have a concussion-" He states, "and you might need stitches."

The worry on his face is deep. I can feel the guilt radiating off of him, he was the one driving. He's the one that chose to hit the unsub's truck.

"I'm okay!" I reassure him, placing my hands on top of his that still rest on my head. This is crossing a new line. He's never touched my face, and I've never touched his hands like this.

"I shouldn't have done that. It was reckless."

"I'm glad you did." I disagree, "If we had waited any longer he would've been able to get his last victim. There's an entire biking club alive right now because of you."

This reminder seems to help slightly, he looks over my shoulder where the crowd remains. I pull him in for a hug, both of us shaking slightly from the adrenaline. After a while we pull apart, the rest of the team arrives as well as a couple ambulances. One takes Ian away immediately, escorted with two police officers as well.

"It took two shots? You're losing your touch." Morgan teases, thowing an arm around my shoulder that makes me wince a little. My phenomenal aim has always been a touchy subject with him, not liking being second.

"I'm concussed and he was driving fast." I defend, fully knowing how whiny I sound.

"Statically of our entire team Y/n would be the only one likely to have made that shot with the variable speed that Ian Croakley was traveling at." Spencer chimes in.

"I knew you were my favorite for a reason." I grin pulling Spence in for a hug effectively shaking off Morgan's arm.

"Yeah, whatever." Morgan shrugs, ruffling the hair in top of Spencer's head.

"Ma'am, you really need to get looked at." The emt reminds, interrupting our conversation. I leave the group and look over to see Aaron sitting on the back of one of the ambulances. We both finish getting evaluated, thankfully nothing too serious that we have to delay our flight home.

"You were right about the concussion." I grin walking up to Aaron as the sheriff walks off.

"And it would seem the stitches too." He reaches out again, thumb hovering over the threading sticking out of my forehead.

"Yeah, should make fore a pretty badass scar." I tease.

"I'm sure it will." He smiles, a real smile. The Aaron smile that I have seen so rarely, but more frequent lately. The plane ride back home is quiet, everyone drained, Aaron and I just flat out sore. By the time we get back to the BAU, Aaron sends everyone home saying the paperwork can wait for the following day. Everyone clears out and he goes back up to his office.

"Not following your own advice?"I question, walking into his office. I make my way round to his side of the desk and lean back on it. The edge of my thigh just barely meeting the outside of his arm from where he sits.

"Just wrapping up a few things before." He sets down his papers, his eyes raking all the way up me from toe to head, we both pretend I don't notice.

"You know, since I have a concussion they said I need to be under observation. No sleeping, crazy delusions, slipping into comas that sort of thing. You know anyone who wants to stay awake with me?"

"I can think of someone" He smirks, "I can put on a pot of coffee."

I pull out the to go mug he had brought my coffee in a few days ago out of my tote and hold it out to him.

"Take me home Aaron."

AHHHHHHHH i hope yall like this! i haven't written in forever to it was honestly just fun to do! :)

[bunnithechubs]

Episode 13- The Finale

So I originally had a whole plan with a competition but I quickly gave that up as my energy has been pretty low. I decided to just give the guys 2 days uninterrupted with Penny and whoever ended up with the highest romance and friendship score wins.

We start this finale off with a dinner Penny herself cooked for the guys as they just landed in Sulani. Everyone ate, drank kava, and had some good conversations. That quickly ended after Silas asked for a steamy make out with Penny. He wanted some privacy so they ended up in the bathroom. Poor Raiden was passed out from the flight so he was out for the count that night.

Jaxon decided to bring Penny with him on the dance floor. She still feels like despite this romantic setting she still feels like a friends with benefits with him. She couldn’t resist a kiss tho! After she bounced all around the villa Darius hit her with that “you want kids right? Well we need to practice.” Penny was like yes sir! Darius ended up staying the night in her room. Hehehe.

Next morning everyone was severely hungover but enjoyed some time by the pool. Darius gave Penny a kiss in the water and immediately after Silas lost all romantic interest in Penny. 😭 I tried to see if they could salvage it but their romance went to 0. After that they tried to go snorkeling but Silas was no where to be found. Looks like he was already planning a trip home.

The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. Flirting here and convos there. They all ended the day with some good memories but who will be the one to make memories with Penny forever? Find out this afternoon (2pm est)!

[mylittleredgirl]

Dr. Ellen Frank, who developed Social Rhythm Therapy, analyzed hundreds of activities that people with bipolar disorder do during the day to see which ones had a big effect on their mood stability. She narrowed it down to these four: 1. The time you get up and out of bed in the morning 2. The time you first start work, chores, or school 3. The first time in the day that you have meaningful interactions with people 4. And the time you eat dinner

--

faaaaascinating. long before i was diagnosed with bipolar disorder i kept joking that i had no circadian rhythm, which was mostly notable because my mother had such a strong one (what do you MEAN you crave chocolate at exactly 3:15 every afternoon?).

trying to force myself into a rhythm has always been difficult and has seemed impossible since the chronic fatigue returned (and my job has swinging start/end times). sleep is a real focus of how i'm being medicated, so that helps a little, but i still haven't managed it. i'm intrigued by how this article says eating dinner at the same time is a more important metric than bedtime itself (which is too easy to mess up with too many variables).

i think i'm going to explore this more intentionally this year!

[luvbugs-blog]

(( if requests are open rn/okay)

Getting caught with the boys, Hitoshi Shinsou version? xx

getting caught with the mha boys - part 3

featuring: hitoshi shinsou

a/n: aged up characters!

warnings: just a lil spicy dicey. spoilers for a grey's anatomy episode.

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

midterms were exhausting. it was a friday afternoon, and you were trudging back to your dorm to rot in your bed for a little bit. you barely had any time for yourself this week, choosing to lock yourself in your room or the library to prepare for all the tests. the late nights took a toll on you, so when you finally fall into bed, you almost want to take a nap. but you choose to scroll on tik tok instead, occasionally giggling at a funny one before sending it to your boyfriend.

oh. shinsou! you haven't seen him at all this week, as his test schedule happened to be when your free time was, and vice versa.

you would go visit him after taking some time to recharge. eventually, you do end up falling asleep, not waking up until the morning, weirdly warm. you blink, extremely tired despite sleeping for 10+ hours and shift in bed before hitting something hard. you whip around, heart pounding, to see your boyfriend leaning up against the headboard, smiling at whatever video he was watching. he glances over at you, before sending you a cheeky smile.

"finally up, kitten?"

"you freak! what are you doing in here?"

"i have an extra key."

"oh yeah." he sets his phone to the side and smirks at you.

"i missed you."

"i know, i'm sorry babe." he scoots closer to you, putting his leg over your hip and drawing you into his chest.

"well, we have time now." you smile, holding him close, nudging your nose to his.

"yes we do."

you didn't. just as your lips touched, his phone buzzed. the two of you jumped and he glanced at his phone before groaning loudly.

"what is it?"

"extra training with aizawa." he looked at you and you grinned.

"go on you big, lazy baby. i'll be here when you're done." he tucked some hair behind your ear before rolling over the bed, heading to training so he could get back to you.

but now that he left, you were twitchy, moving around the bed, feeling a bit anxious for him to come back. he had gotten you in the mood and then left. prick. you straighten up your room, clean your bathroom, and then decide to start an episode of grey's anatomy. at this point, you were relaxed again, and the door cracked open just as meredith placed her hand on the live bazooka in the guy's chest. locked in, you barely noticed as shinsou throws his shoes off and goes to take a shower in your bathroom.

he comes out in a towel and starts to crawl over to you, positioning himself over you. you push him aside, much to his displeasure, to watch meredith shakily put the live bazooka in the bomb squad guy's hand.

when the kisses start up your neck, you whine.

"baby, wait. this is interesting."

"i'm interesting."

but when meredith exists the O.R. to see the bomb squad blown up, shinou sits up.

"whoa."

you smirk. "told you it's totally interesting."

the ending credits play and you finally turn your attention to him. when you start kissing him now, he pays no attention as the next episode started playing.

"shinsou."

"no you're right. this is interesting."

"ugh." he smiles, still looking at the tv, and puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest. but you are not going to wait another 40 minutes. your hand trails down his abs (and damn, they are defined) to the hair that peeks out from the top of his towel.

no reaction.

your hand doesn't stop, lightly touching the bulge under the towel. he hisses and grabs your shoulder tighter.

"what are you doing?"

"asking for attention."

"you needy baby."

you throw your leg over his lap, now straddling him, hands reaching to move his hair out of his eyes. his eyes travel back to the tv, but you grab his chin and forced him to look at you.

"pay attention to me," you whine.

he smirks.

"make me."

you do. you smash your lips onto his, swallowing his groans. your hands move up his chest and one links in his hair while the other claws at his back. he kisses back with fervor, and to throw him off his game, you grind down on him. his head falls back onto the headboard, and you take the chance to start sucking on his neck.

his hand goes to your hair, pulling him back. his lips part, ready to say something, when a loud pounding on your door has the two of you quickly breaking apart.

"SHUT THE HELL UP."

the both of you groan, and shinsou shouts,

"way to kill the mood!"

you hear, "DON'T CARE," as he stomps back to his room and slams the door. you totally forgot his was your neighbor.

oops.

[angelic-sturniolos111]

The Right Words 🧸

Chris begins to question his opinions on commitment and relationships after being close friends with you for months. Chris’s feelings for you have grown stronger, but he can’t quite articulate his affection for you. Instead of using his words he makes a romantic gesture to show you how he feels.

chris sturniolo x fem! reader

warnings: none, just chris being super shy and fluffy

author’s note: kinda inspired by stuff he’s said ab relationships and how “too much love” kinda scares/intimidates him

not proofread lmao

Chris’s POV:

Matt had invited Y/N to come hang at our house while we record our podcast episode for the week. It wasn’t unusual for Y/N to always be around, she was our friend, but I hadn’t opened up to my brothers about how I truly feel about her.

She moved to LA a few months back and we all met her at some influencer party, and she hit it off with us immediately. First, it started with the four of us going out to record content, going bowling, thrifting, things like that. Eventually, we all grew closer with her and she started hanging out at our house a lot more, and often sleeping over. The first time she had slept over was after Nick and Matt had already gone to bed, and since she didn’t want to wake them she slept in my room with me. After that night I guess my room became the unofficial-Y/N-sleepover room because she has always spelt in my room every time since.

I immediately found Y/N attractive when we met— she’s a very pretty girl. I’ve always had closer girl friends in my circle, and even if I think any of them are pretty, my feelings never go beyond that— it’s always platonic. I know part of that is because they just weren’t the right girl for me, but another part of me knows it’s because I don’t let myself sit in those feelings. I’m scared of commitment, relationships, things of that sort. Sure I’ve hooked up with a few girls in my day, but I’ve never had any serious romantic feelings for anyone.

Until Y/N.

That first night she slept in my room we stayed up for hours talking about everything from our favorite hockey teams to deeper emotional stuff. That became our routine when she would sleepover… always the last ones awake, and always having long in-depth conversations with one another. What started off as friendly, platonic feelings for her quickly changed after many nights spent late night talking.

As much as I loved our late night talks I honestly wanted more. I wanted early morning talks, afternoon talks, and to just be with her every second of every day. I wanted to hold her, spoil her, kiss her, and call her mine. I thought I would never feel this way about anyone before, but she makes me feel things I’ve never felt— she’s everything to me.

I recently came to the conclusion that keeping these feelings buried was starting to drive me insane, and I had to open up to someone about it.

Matt and I were currently getting in his car on the way to pick up Y/N. Before Matt put the car in drive, I spoke up;

“Hey, can I talk to you about something that’s been on my mind a lot lately? I just really need someone to talk to about it.” I say sheepishly. Matt’s eyes leave his phone to meet mine, and he instantly put his phone down giving me his full attention.

“Yeah bro of course. You can tell me anything. What’s up?” He says concerned because usually this is the other way around. Matt opening up to me about his issues. It was rare that I ever had anything on my end to discuss.

“Well it’s just,” I pause, hesitating if I should even continue. Matt puts a hand on my shoulder comforting me enough to move on.

“I have serious, and I mean serious feelings for Y/N.”

I’m not sure what I was expecting in response, but it wasn’t this…

He started laughing. LAUGHING. In my fucking face.

“Okay why are you laughing? Is something funny about any of this?” I say now a little pissed off that he wasn’t taking this seriously.

“Oh man, no no I’m sorry I’m not trying to be rude. It’s just… SO obvious.” He says and continues to laugh.

“WHAT?! IS IT REALLY?” I yell. Oh god, I hope Y/N doesn’t know and I’m not making a complete ass out of myself.

“Yes! Nick and I talk about it all the time. You may not realize it but you NEVER stop talking about her. “Y/N said this funny thing last night,” “Y/N really likes this movie,” “You know one time Y/N” Y/N Y/N Y/N. I swear every god damn sentence you utter her name leaves your mouth.” Matt mocks, but before I can interject he continues;

“Jesus not to mention the way you stare her down whenever she’s in the room. Nick and I are always laughing about it— like when he’s editing our videos and we can see that you looking at her constantly whenever she steps behind the camera? Or when we went to the beach that one time!? You saw Y/N in a bikini for the first time, and we saw you grab the towel to cover your lap because—”

“Okay OKAY! Alright, I get it! I’m not as good as hiding my feelings for her as I thought…” I cut him off before he can continue to blabber about it any more. Matt comes down from his laughing fit.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be mean. My point is is that we’ve never seen you like this with anyone before, and it’s really sweet.” Matt rests his hand on my arm reassuringly. “Well, we told her we were on our way to pick her up. If you want to I can text Nick and we can come up with some sort of excuse to leave so you guys can have some alone time together and maybe you’ll be able to talk with her about it?” He suggests.

“Yeah… it’s the talking that I’m scared of.” I look down and play with my hands in my lap. “That’s the problem. Like you said, I’ve never been like this with anyone before, and I don’t know how to put my feelings into words. If you haven’t noticed I’m not necessarily the most romantic person ever.” I say with a sigh.

Matt looks around the car seeing if anything might give him an idea. He sees the gummy worms in the center console from the last time we filmed a car video and picks them up to show me.

“Okay, candy? What about candy?” He says as if he just made some sort of scientific breakthrough.

“Kid, what the fuck are you talking about? Candy?” I laugh, completely confused.

“Yeah! We can swing by the store and you can get her her favorite candies and snacks, and you guys can watch a cute movie together or something? If you can’t tell her how you feel maybe you can show her through your actions.”

I thought about it for a second, and it honestly wasn’t a bad idea. I knew her favorite candy, snacks, movies, all that stuff. I know she loves comfy blankets for movie time. She also complains about not having a stuffed animal for her to cuddle when she sleeps over, and she usually steals one of Matt’s. All these thoughts came flooding into my head at once, and suddenly I had the best idea.

“Okay, I got it!. We’re going to need to stop at the store before we get her. You and Nick distract her when we get back to our place, and then find some excuse to leave. I have the perfect plan.” I say excitedly.

An enormous smile grows on Matt’s face. He clicks his seatbelt, and before he can back the car out of the driveway we see Nick striding out the door to the car. Matt rolls his window down.

“What the fuck are you two still doing in the driveway? I thought you were getting Y/N?” Nick says.

“Bro get in the car you’re coming with us we’ve gotta update you on Chris’s love affair!” Matt says jokingly making me laugh. Nick just rolls his eyes, and climbs in the backseat.

***

Y/N’s POV:

Chris had given me a call earlier to tell me that their manager, Laura, needed Nick and Matt for something at her house tonight so it would just be the two of us. She had apparently given them a call on their way out to pick me up so they were running late. Honestly, I was a little nervous that Chris and I would have the house to ourselves. I was always comfortable being alone with him in his room, and I’ve always hoping he’d take one of these nights to make a move. In my head I tried to convince myself he hasn’t made a move yet because his brothers were always home— worried they’d barge in and interrupt or something. I’ve had a HUGE crush on Chris, and I wasn’t super hopeful that he felt the same way because he’s never been a relationship type of guy. Plus, he always has girl friends, and I’m worried I probably just fall under the friend category in his eyes.

Finally, I see headlights shine through my front window and look to see Matt’s car in the driveway. I grab my purse and head out the door and open the car door to climb in the backseat. I was surprised to be met with Chris in the backseat, and Nick in the front with Matt.

“Fancy seeing you in the back. You’re never back here.” I say getting in my seat and clicking the seatbelt.

“Umm yeah, I— um.” Chris starts before Nick cuts him off.

“He was taking too long in the store so I hopped in the front.” I see Chris raise his eyebrows slightly at Nick, giving him a weird look.

“I didn’t know you guys went out. What were you getting?” I ask.

“Um just toiletries and stuff. Needed some, uh, shampoo.” Chris says shrugging his shoulders and breaking out eye contact. He seemed tense, but I brushed it off.

***

We pull into the driveway and I get out of the car making my way over to the trunk. The three boys get out and stand awkwardly behind the car with me.

“Did you want help bringing the stuff in?” I say and there was silence as the boys just awkwardly stared at each other, and then at me. “…From the store?” I continue.

“Oh no Chris’s got it. Matt and I wanna show you the updates we made to the podcast studio, come on!” Nick says grabbing my arm and leading me up the driveway to their front door leaving Chris behind to get stuff out of the trunk.

Matt, Nick, and I go inside and they immediately go upstairs to their studio, and I stop to hesitate at the bottom of the stairs.

“Should we wait for Chris?” I say. Matt turns around to look at me, and then shoots a glance to Nick.

“No he’s slow as fuck. Come on!” Nick yells. I laugh and make my way upstairs.

Matt and Nick start showing me decor and stuff around the studio. It honestly wasn’t anything that I haven’t already seen before, but I kept my mouth shut because it seemed very important for them to show me again. As they blabber on I see Chris run swiftly past the door, carrying a bunch of shopping bags, and going into his bedroom slamming the door. I became even more suspicious to his weird behavior.

Matt and Nick went on to me about the podcast episodes they were planning to film, but I was barely even listening since my thoughts were elsewhere. I’m snapped out of my daydreaming when Chris comes in and stands in the doorway.

“Okaaaay! You guys have to go to Laura’s, yeah?” Chris asks his brothers.

“Yes! Yes we do. Matt let’s get going!” Nick says to Matt and they eagerly start walking out of the room. Matt turns back and gives me a smile, “Have fun!” He says. Matt then gives Chris a pat on the shoulder before him and Nick make their way downstairs and out the door.

Why the hell were they all acting so weird?

I take a step towards Chris as he remains blocking the doorway.

“So, what do you wanna do?” I question, and a smirk creeps up on his face.

“I actually have a special movie night planned for us.” He says with that sweet smile of his I love so much.

“What makes it special?” I ask. He grabs my hand, making my breath hitch in my throat slightly at our touch. He leads me to his bedroom. Was this it? Was he making his move? I didn’t necessarily think he’d be so bold as to bed me right away, but I also wasn’t complaining. I thought to myself before he proves me wrong. He opens his bedroom door and leads me inside, and I smile big once I see what he’s done.

His bed is full of pillows from both his room and the spare bedroom, and they’re covered in a huge blanket. There’s another sherpa blanket on the bed with a cute teddy bear on my side where I usually sleep. On his nightstand is a bowl of popcorn, and bags of my favorite candies. He had turned his ceiling lights off and had fairy lights draped over his headboard illuminating the room. Also lighting the room was his TV which had one of my favorite Disney movies cued up ready to watch.

Chris steps back as I walk around the room taking it all on.

“Chris! This is so sweet!” I gawk as I jump into his bed and wrap myself in the softest blanket and he follows suit. We lay in his bed together in silence for a moment before he grabs the teddy bear and handing it to me with a smile. I take the bear from his hands and wrap it tight in my arms.

Chris’s POV:

“Chris, what’s all this for?” Y/N asks looking at me with her beautiful eyes.

I knew that she’d ask why I went all out. I had ran a couple scenarios of her possible questions in my head, and embarrassingly enough I may or may not have practiced what I was going to say with Nick in the car earlier…

“Well, it’s for you.” Duh? Chris I think that’s kinda obvious you dumb fuck. I don’t think any amount of practicing could’ve prepared me to face the prettiest, sweetest girl I’ve ever met in my life. I could feel my heart beating faster with each passing moment. She smiles, her eyes softening, and she scootches closer to me.

“You did all this for me? Why?” She asks sweetly. I knew she’d love the surprise, but also knew she’d be confused.

I really tried my best to prepare for this talk, but I was still so nervous. I didn’t know what to say.

I take a deep inhale before starting the conversation.

“I— I did this for you because I wanted to. Well I mean obviously I wanted to or else I wouldn’t have done this. What I mean is I want to show you what I think of you. Or, I mean, how I feel… and I— ugh.” I sigh and burry my face in my hands now completely embarrassed from my nervous rambling. “I don’t know how to use my words.” I mumble into my hands.

I feel a soft, gentle hand on mine pulling it slowly from my face, and I’m met with Y/N as her eyes lock on mine. When my hands are back down in my lap she reaches her hand up to gently cup my cheek, not breaking eye contact. Her eyes flicker from mine down to my lips, and back up to mine before speaking;

“Then don’t use your words…”

I bring my hand up to lay on top of hers cupping my cheek, and I lean in to her touch. I bring my other hand gently to the nape of her neck and pull her closer. Her face is mere inches away from mine. Our eyes breaking contact and moving to our lips. She slowly closes her eyes, and I pull her in fully and plant my lips on hers.

Her lips were soft. Sweet, even. They molded perfectly with mine as we kiss. The kiss is gentle and eager at the same time. I’ve only ever dreamed of this moment, and I can’t believe it’s finally happening.

We pull away from our kiss, our foreheads still touching. I open my eyes first to look at her, and when she opens hers a sweet smile creeps on her lips making me laugh softly.

“Hi.” I say in a whisper.

“Hi Chris.”

“I really like you, Y/N.”

“I really like you too.”

She pulls me in, this time with more force, and plants a passionate kiss on my lips.

We continue to kiss for a moment before I pull back.

“Will you be my girl?” I ask.

She smiles, nodding her head feverishly before bringing her lips back to mine and throwing her hands around my neck.

I’m in heaven.

**********

I honestly didn’t know how to end this and I’m kinda cringing but oh well.

Happy Thanksgiving y’all! 🦃

— Kay 🖤

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 37

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words : 5k

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Friday, January 15; 6:00 AM -  Lucy's Room.

Even though the ringtone is more pleasant than the alarm in our dorm, it doesn’t stop me from groaning and burying my head in the pillow when it echoes through the room. I hate waking up, no matter what sound comes out of the alarm. I feel a light pressure on my back, encouraging me to roll onto my stomach.

"Get up, Ona."

"No," I mumble.

We stay like this for a little while. I start to worry when her presence lingers on me longer than usual. This isn’t normal. I turn my head to the side to check on her. A smile creeps onto my face when I see her eyes are closed. My movement must have woken her up because she opens one eye, then the other.

"Is getting up tough, Miss Bronze?"

"Whose fault is that?"

"It’s not like I didn’t warn you..."

I clutch my pillow a bit tighter. Guilt washes over me when I see her like this. She hasn’t been spared during the last five nights I’ve spent here. She has as many dark circles under her beautiful eyes as I do.

"I don’t blame you, Ona. But get up now, or we’ll be late."

"Hmm... Don’t feel like it."

Instead of listening to her, I roll over in her bed, pulling the comforter over my head to escape her. Silence reigns until I feel a foot in my stomach, sending me tumbling off the bed. I open my eyes wide to see her grinning triumphantly. The shock leaves me speechless.

"I already let you sleep in my bed, even though I tell you every night it’s the last time... At least do me the honor of getting out when I tell you to, will you?"

I groan as she gets up and walks past me, but I smile when I’m sure she’s in the bathroom. This girl is completely crazy, yet I like her more and more every day. I didn’t think that was possible. Neither did I expect my episodes to worsen after coming to this room. Neither of us was prepared for it. Lucy even thought I had lied about the previous ones, but that wasn’t the case. In the end, we realized the only way for me to fall back asleep after an episode is to sleep in her arms until morning. If that doesn’t happen, I can’t get back to sleep for at least one or two hours.  Lucy kept telling me each time that it would be the last time and that we’d find another solution, but here we are, five nights in.

"Ona," she scolds as she comes out of the bathroom, standing in front of me with her arms crossed. "You’re really pushing it. Get up, now!"

"Alright, I’m getting up!"

"You better be! Hurry up, we’re leaving in ten minutes, max."

The one thing that hasn’t changed since coming here is her commanding nature. Sometimes I think it’s just a front to make her orders seem more fun. But deep down, I know that’s not the case. She wouldn’t hesitate to punish me if I didn’t listen. She has the authority, so she takes advantage of it. With these thoughts, I head to the bathroom, where my things are already set. Lucy has managed to change all my habits in less than a week. She makes me prepare my clothes the night before, and sometimes we even go to bed earlier than the imposed curfew to catch up on sleep. That’s unheard of for me. I quickly get dressed, brush my teeth, and apply some makeup. I barely have time to fix my hair when the door opens, and  Lucy walks in.

"Ready to go?"

"Yep, I just need to grab my jacket and bag."

 Lucy hands me my jacket with a small smile. In her other hand, I also see my bag.

"Thanks," I say, holding back an eye roll.

I’ve discovered that  Lucy is very particular about order. I thought I was meticulous, but she’s on another level. Her room is always impeccably tidy, and she’s incredibly organized. Case in point: our suitcases are already packed, just waiting for our return later this afternoon. Once everything is set, we leave her room. We greet an instructor who came out at the same time as us, then I follow  Lucy down the stairs. I still feel a bit strange being here, but I’m no longer afraid of what her colleagues think. All the educators were informed that I’ve been staying with Lucy ever since a teacher caught me in the hallways when I was heading to her room alone one night. I had been hanging out late with Alexia, not paying attention to the time. The teacher dragged me to the principal’s office without listening to a word I said. He felt pretty foolish when Wiegman explained the situation to him.

"Shall we meet up later?"  Lucy asks me.

"Yep, I’ll meet you at the car, then?"

"Around one o’clock, yes."

"Alright, have a good morning."

"Thanks, you too."

We’ve settled into a bit of a routine. I leave her to wait for her friend at the back door of my dorm while I head to the cafeteria to meet up with mine. Alexia always waits for me out front to ask how my night went. No one has noticed our routine yet because we always join them at the table anyway. Today, we’re the last ones to arrive. We sit in our usual spots with our full trays and join in on the discussions already happening during our absence. It’s the best part of the day. Since we wake up early, we always have time to chat until eight o’clock. Sometimes, there are exceptions where we leave the cafeteria early, like today. I don’t return to  Lucy’s room. I’m not allowed to. Besides, I know she needs to shower since she always goes for a run after breakfast. Since I live with her, I’ve started to learn her habits. We already spent a lot of time together, but now it’s even more. However, I’ve been trying to balance things since Alexia confessed that she misses me. I realized I was spending more time with  Lucy, so I decided to organize myself better. Now, I dedicate my classes and free time before meals to Alexia and my evenings to Lucy in her room. I’ll see how I manage once I’m swamped with homework again, as I’ve asked to work in Lucy’s office, and I know she won’t forget that. In the meantime, I head to class. The day goes relatively well. For a week now, we haven’t really been following the lessons since these are our last few weeks. We’re still working, but nothing important, so we end up laughing a lot with Alexia, making the most of our last two hours together. Maybe too much, as we get reprimanded by our teachers quite a bit. Today is no exception.

"Seriously, you should’ve seen her face when I told her," she giggles, talking about her girlfriend without any discretion. "It was hilarious!"

"Alright, enough!" shouts the teacher. "Out, both of you! Now!"

I widen my eyes at the tone our teacher suddenly took. I expected him to react again after his first warning, but not this harshly. He’s the only one who’s gone so far as to kick us out. We must have pushed him to his limit. Our teacher in the first class was more lenient with us.

"No, it’s fine, we’ll calm down," my neighbor replies.

"You’ve already told me that ten minutes ago," he retorts. "And the rest of the week too. This is the last straw. Out!"

To accompany his words, he points to the door. Alexia reluctantly packs up her things. She gives me a stern look to prompt me to do the same when she notices I’m not moving. The only problem is that I’m frozen. I’m going to be in so much trouble if I leave this room.

"Batlle, do you need a special invitation?"

"No, it’s fine..."

"Excuse me?!"

I don’t reply anymore, afraid of making things worse and getting written up too. It wouldn’t be the first time. I grab my bag and join Alexia, who is already at the door. As if that wasn’t enough, the teacher asks another student to escort us to Bronze' office. I’m in so much trouble. Ale is teasing me.

"Oh, come on, you shouldn’t be that scared! It’s been ages since Bronze punished you."

"You don’t get it. If I’m denied the weekend because of this, I’m a dead girl!"

"You’re overreacting," she laughs.

Oh no, I’m not. She doesn’t understand why I’m so scared. We arrive at my supervisor’s office quicker than I would’ve liked. Two pairs of eyes are on us as the student escorting us knocks on the door. My first instinct is to stare at my feet.

"Ooh... This doesn’t look good," Ingrid comments.

I bite my lip. If she caught on that fast, I have no doubt  Lucy will too. I hear the latter stand up from my peripheral vision. I fidget with my fingers, dreading making eye contact with her.

"What’s going on?"

"I—," my classmate tries to explain.

"I wasn’t talking to you," she interrupts. « Ona?"

- We-

- I said Ona, snaps Lucy harshly in response to Alexia’s attempt to speak.

I lift my head for the first time since I’ve been here. I realize that I’ve positioned myself behind Alexia without meaning to. To my surprise,  Lucy doesn’t look angry, or she’s hiding it very well. She raises an eyebrow when our eyes meet and crosses her arms.

- We got kicked out, I mumble.

- Excuse me? I don’t think I heard you correctly.

I swallow hard. She’s right about one thing—she’s a very good actress. She’s angry. I doubt her lack of sleep will help matters. I press myself against the wall as she approaches us. She sighs, ripping the paper from Megan’s hands violently.

- Alright. Go back to class.

She’s so terrified that she bumps into me as she leaves the room.  Lucy doesn’t take her eyes off me, which also tends to scare me.

- Reasons? she asks me.

- Talking...

- Talking? she repeats, raising her voice. Are you kidding me?!

- No...

- I can’t believe it, she says bitterly. You promised me you wouldn’t do it again! And here you are, as soon as I loosen the reins just a little, you do it again, she snaps at me.

- Luce-

- Oh no, no, she cuts me off. Shut up, will you!

- Whoa, calm down, Ingrid intervenes. Have you seen her face or what?! She was already terrified just walking through the door! she defends me. I think she’s learned her lesson, right Ona?

I nod timidly, thanking her with a look, unable to speak. I knew she would be mad at me. Even though she’s my friend, she’s always prioritized her role as supervisor. I turn my eyes back to her when she sighs again. Her hand rubs her forehead, as if she has a migraine.

- I’m sorry, she says. I’m sleep-deprived.

- Let’s look at the bright side. We can now finish our work faster, Ingrid says, trying to lighten the mood.

 Lucy doesn’t say anything else, just gestures for me to sit in my usual spot. Alexia, who still hasn’t said a word, simply gives me a sorry expression, realizing that I was completely right to be scared.

- Well, I guess I’ll team up with mini Putellas then, Ingrid says. Come sit with me, will you?

Alexia follows the orders she’s given. I smile slightly, noticing she’s not used to being here. I’m sure it’s the first time she’s been kicked out.

- Does this change anything about our weekend? I ask Lucy timidly, who’s now standing in front of me.

- No, but you won’t have the next one, and neither will I.

- Why not?

- Because that was part of the deal with Wiegman! she informs me. How can I go if you’re not sleeping at night?

Now I feel guilty. I should have negotiated to stay in class and asked for a different seat, for example. It’s too late to come up with solutions.  Lucy slides a sheet of paper in front of me. I don’t understand her intention until she asks me to read out the numbers to help her with her work.

- Can I go to the bathroom first?

- You’re kidding me, right?

I bite my lip, wanting to collect myself before diving into her work. Her bad mood makes me anxious. She grants me this favor but insists on coming with me. I say nothing, even though I made the request to get away from her. When we arrive at the bathroom, I only breathe when I’m locked in a stall.

- I’m sorry... I dare to say once I can no longer see her.

- I’m the one who should be sorry, she surprises me by replying. You could have held off for your last class at least.

Not knowing what to say, I stay silent. I come out of the stall after flushing and stand beside her to wash my hands. I look up into the mirror when a pair of lips touches my cheek. The contact lasts longer than it should. I remain speechless at this more-than-pleasant gesture.

- Do me a favor and don’t get kicked out again for the rest of the year. I won’t be as lenient next time, knowing what you’ve become. Got it?

- Yeah... Sorry again about your weekend... There’s no chance I’ll have it.

- I’ll make sure you don’t. That will be your punishment, she tells me. I had planned to offer you a weekend in the Alps with my friends. Now I’ll have to reschedule everything since I can’t go anymore, and I’m not sure if you’ll be invited then.

- What’s this about...?

- I wanted to surprise you since I’m forbidding you to go back to Barcelona.

- You would have taken me with you...?

- Of course.

- And now you don’t want to take me?

- Not until you prove you deserve it.

She winks at me before leaving the room. I quickly toss my paper towel and follow her. Damn it! I’ve messed everything up! I’m sure she’s trying to make me feel guilty, and it’s working perfectly. I try to convince her to change her mind on the way back, but it’s no use.

- Please, Luc-

She puts her finger on my mouth, making me stop so I don’t run into her. I look around and see that we’re back at the office, and our friends are laughing at us.

- That’s enough. I said no.

- So, are you two best friends again? Ingrid asks.

- No, she’s just trying to persuade me to take her on the weekend we planned.

- Oh... I forgot about that... Damn. Can’t we go now? Can’t you work something out?

- That’s what I’m trying to ask her! I reply.

- I said no. It’s your punishment. Now move your chair over here. You’re supposed to be helping me, remember?

She sits behind her desk with a determined look. I glance at Ingrid, who seems exasperated by her friend’s behavior. Without much enthusiasm, I follow the order and sit next to her. Alexia also sits next to Ingrid to work better. I retrieve the previous sheet and make myself comfortable, crossing my legs.

- First to finish wins? Ingrid challenges us. We’ve been waiting for you for this.

- Fine by me,  Lucy surprises me by agreeing. You’d better be efficient. I hate losing.

I chuckle and nod.  Lucy gives the signal to start our silly contest. I quickly give her the first eight-digit code to avoid getting scolded. We keep going like this for a good half hour until the bell rings in the hallway.

- Already? Ingrid exclaims. Do you have one or two hours of detention?

- Two, I respond instinctively at the same time as Lucy.

 Lucy gives me a dark look.

- What? It was my turn to answer.

- Hmm.

I sense amusement from Ingrid. It’s true, it’s pretty funny to see us connecting this way. Alexia is more discreet next to her, even though she’s probably thinking the same thing as us.

"Alright, give me the next one?" she reminds me.

Friday, January 15; 12:40 PM - Manchester Airport.

Ten minutes have passed since Lucy and I arrived at the airport. The morning had been tense since my dismissal, but  Lucy calmed down after we crushed the other team just before lunch. After that, we separated to eat, then I met her on the same side street as last time when it was time to leave. Now, I’m eagerly waiting for Mapi to arrive, and I think I’ve mentioned that enough already. I’m starting to get fed up with the tension between Lucy and me. It feels like it’s only getting worse. She’s been ignoring me since we got here, tapping away on her phone doing who knows what. I sigh in frustration. This situation is ridiculous. I was about to speak when she finally looks at me, but then she steps back, looking behind me. The next moment, something literally jumps on me. Lucy catches me to stop me from falling. I’m attacked by a wave of kisses, causing Lucy to step back.

"Mapi, cut it out," I laugh.

"I missed you so much! Oh my God, I thought I’d never land! Seriously, how do you manage to sleep through every flight?"

I laugh, recognizing my best friend and her way of complaining without mincing words. I turn around when she finally climbs off my back.

"Good to see you, Commander! Maybe not as much as my Ona, but still!"

"Good to see you too, Mapi."

Mapi sticks close to me until we retrieve her suitcase. Since I no longer have a phone to communicate, she catches me up on her crappy week in detail without paying any attention to Lucy beside us. She missed an important exam that she hopes to retake. She also tells me she ran into her ex with Feli. Judging by Lucy’s reaction to this news, I’m not holding my breath for her to change her mind about returning to Barcelona. She eventually talks about her casual flings, which I could have done without hearing next to my supervisor. I feel extremely embarrassed, unlike Mapi, who seems totally at ease. I get a brief break when she grabs her suitcase from the conveyor belt.

"Does she always talk this much?"  Lucy asks.

"It’s just the beginning..."

"Great. I thought no one could be worse than you."

"Hey!" I lightly punch her. "I’m not that bad! And I did warn you that you were taking a risk by picking her up."

She pinches my cheek when I pout. I give a victorious smile when she apologizes, saying she was joking. She quickly withdraws her hand when Mapi comes back. She resumes her monologue all the way to the parking lot.

"Wow, nice ride! An Audi? You didn’t mention that, Ona! Can I sit in the front?"

"No!"  Lucy and I reply in unison.

"Whoa, calm down, you two," she chuckles.

 Lucy avoids us by getting into her car. I help Mapi put her suitcase in the trunk before we get in too.  Lucy hasn’t let me drive her car since last week, but I was glad she let me do it at least once. The feeling of driving her car was magical, and I understand why when it purrs at startup.

"By the way, Ona?" Mapi asks.

"Can’t you just shut up for, like, five minutes?"  Lucy growls.

"Is she always this grumpy?"

I laugh as my best friend points at  Lucy with an indifferent look.  Lucy’s going to explode any second if she keeps pushing her buttons like this.

"If you don’t stop soon, I’ll leave you on the side of the road!"

This scene is truly hilarious. Mapi eventually cooperates by sinking into her seat and sulking. Now she knows what it’s like to be put in her place by  Lucy Bronze.

"What was your question?" I finally ask.

"Um, I’m not sure I’m allowed to talk..." she pouts.

"Don’t be upset. She was joking. Right, Lucia?"

"Mm," she responds.

"So?" I press.

"Did you sort out your phone problem? You said you would this week."

I sigh and shake my head, thinking about that issue.

"I called my mom. She gave me a hard time when I explained that mine was broken. We argued until she finally agreed to let me cancel the line and get a new one."

"And?"

"Well, I eventually got the green light."

"So it’s good? You can get a new phone?"

"Normally, yes."

"Then why don’t you already have one?"

"Because Lucy will take me when she feels like it."

I see Mapi flinch in her seat through the rearview mirror. I glance at  Lucy, who sighs heavily. I place my hand on her shoulder to try to calm her down. I think Mapi’s presence is irritating her. She was happy to host us last week, though. Maybe I’m wrong. Her mood has worsened since my dismissal. I feel responsible. We had started the day off well. I smile as I realize that my touch has an effect, against all expectations.

"Go ahead, Mapi, spit it out,"  Lucy encourages.

"Well... We could go get one now, right? But, you know, it’s up to you! You’re the driver, after all..."

"Alright, let’s go. I’ll have the opportunity to leave you there if you keep annoying me."

I laugh, removing my hand from Lucy. She changes direction towards a street I recognize. She’s actually heading downtown.

"Take out my phone and send a message to Ingrid asking her to meet us," she orders.

I don’t think twice and do what she asks. My best friend is here, so she can ask hers to join us too. Ten minutes later, we’re in the underground parking of the shopping mall. I’ve visited a lot of places, but I’ve never been here. We follow Lucy, who heads for the stairs. She’s tapping away on her phone, as if we’re not even there. We arrive in the middle of a dozen brand-name stores. I spin around to see if I spot any stores I might like. It only lasts a second, but when I stop, I don’t see anyone beside me anymore. I move forward a bit, hoping to spot  Lucy, Mapi, or maybe even Ingrid, but I don’t recognize any faces. There’s no one. I’m alone, and I start to panic like a little girl who’s lost her mother in the supermarket. I look around and even search my pockets, but I quickly remember that I haven’t had a phone for weeks. I stop when I start to feel overwhelmed. I’m beginning to think I’ll never find them with all these people around. I jump when a strong hand suddenly presses on my shoulder. I was ready to fight back, but I relax when I come face to face with  Lucy.

"Oh, thank God..."

Without thinking, I hug her. She chuckles softly, accepting the embrace. She doesn’t seem to notice my panicked state. Yet, I can feel my heart racing against her warm body. I pull away from her so she doesn’t realize how exaggerated my reaction was.

"Sorry, I... I didn’t see you leave, and I thought I’d never find you again."

"Calm down," she smiles. "I’m here now. Give me your hand so I don’t lose you again. Your wonderful best friend and Ingrid are waiting for us."

She knows exactly how to calm me down. I smile and happily take the hand she offers. She pulls me along in a direction I definitely wouldn’t have taken if I had gone looking for them.

" Lucy?" I call out to her.

« Mm?"

- "I'm sorry for ruining your mood... It's my fault, and I hate seeing you like this."

I bite my lip when our eyes meet. She smiles tenderly.

- "It's not your fault."

- "But—"

- "I promise, Ona," she interrupts, tightening her grip on my hand. "If you don't want things to get worse, don't stray from me again."

I smile at her, and she finally lets go of my hand when we reach Mapi and Ingrid, who are deep in debate. It almost seems like they've known each other for ages, even though they've only met twice.

- "Oh, there you are at last!" Mapi exclaims when she sees us. "Can we go now?"

- "Of course. Try not to get lost again."

Ingrid and Mapi walk ahead of us as if we weren't there. Well, they do glance back at us occasionally.  Lucy tells me that the mobile store is on the next floor when I ask her. We take the escalator to get there.  Lucy takes my hand again as I start to lag behind them. The other two girls decide to leave us to check out the store across from the mobile shop when we arrive. At least we'll have a little peace, and I'll have time to choose a phone without any pressure.

- "Hello," a salesman approaches us right away with a predatory smile. "Can I help you?"

- "We're fine, thanks,"  Lucy replies coldly. "We're just browsing for now."

I give the salesman an apologetic smile, realizing that he's unwittingly sparked my boss's ire. I hurry to join her when she calls me over a bit further away. I apologize and quickly catch up to her.

- "I guess you want an iPhone? Can you even afford it?"

- "Yes, yes! My mom sent me some money."

- "Do you want to look at anything else?"

- "Are you kidding?" I giggled. "I only have Apple products; I'm not going to look at Samsung!"

- "As you wish," she smiles. "So, which model? You had a 13, right?"

- "Yeah," I sighed. "Actually, I'm torn. I could get the latest model, but I think it's too expensive. What do you think?"

- "What I think? It's not up to me to decide."

- "I'm just asking for your opinion..."

- "There's not much difference between the latest models. It's up to you to decide what you want."

- "Do you need advice?"

 Lucy lets out a grumpy sigh towards the salesman who returns. I stifle a laugh and place my hand on her arm, which is holding one of the displayed phones.

- "We'll come to you when I've made my choice," I simply say.

He nods. I think he got the message now. I smile, seeing  Lucy glaring at him as he walks away. I call her to get her attention. She raises an eyebrow, noticing my amused expression.

- "You think this is funny?"

- "He's not doing anything wrong; he's just doing his job."

- "Yeah, well, if his job is to check out all the pretty girl in this store, I hope he gets a bonus considering how often he stares at you."

I look at her, stunned by that comment I didn't expect at all. A burst of laughter escapes me, causing her to frown. It's one of the last things I expected to hear from her. I wipe away the tears forming in the corners of my eyes.

- "Are you done?" she snaps coldly.

- "Sorry, Luce, but why are you reacting like this? Who cares? I won't ever see this guy again anyway."

- "Yeah. Well, are you done so we can leave? The last thing we need is for the others to show up, and that would be the icing on the cake."

- "Hey, are you done being like this? As long as those two are together, they leave us alone. It's pretty nice, isn't it?"

- "Which one are you choosing?"

I sighed, realizing that my words wouldn't change her mood. I hope it'll fade soon because I won't be able to put up with it for long. I give up and change the subject, pointing to a phone in front of us, the iPhone 15.

- "That one, then?"

- "Yeah."

- "You know it's really expensive?"

- "Let's just say my mom transferred me a generous amount," I giggled. "Might as well enjoy it, right?"

- "You could use it for something else."

I stare at the new iPhone for a moment. According to people, it's the phone to have. I'm so tempted, but  Lucy's eyes are much more compelling. I let out a defeated sigh.

- "Alright, alright, I’ll go for the other one then."

I settle for the iPhone 14 that was right next to it.  Lucy nods, as if she approves of the obvious choice.

- "So, black or white, Princess?"

- "White," I finally said without hesitation, crossing my arms.

- "Okay," she laughs. "Let's find a saleswoman."

- "The salesman was fine by me," I teased. "Especially since I told him we'd go back to him."

- "You really want to irritate me to the end?"

We lock eyes for a moment until I look away to find the salesman in the store. I’m not trying to annoy her, but I don’t want to give her the final say on everything either. I smile when I finally see him and waste no time going over to him.

- "Ona," she

 growls behind me.

- "Have you made your choice?" he asks warmly when I reach him.

- "Yes, I have. Can you take care of it?"

- "I'm not sure your girlfriend feels the same way..."

- "Oh, she’s not—"

- "If it were up to me, I would have gone to your colleague already," my boss retorts. "Just do your job."

- "R-right... If you would follow me..."

The poor salesman is almost running out of fear as he heads to his desk with a computer. I wait a moment before following him to turn back to  Lucy.

- "Are you serious? Why did you let him think we were together?!" I giggled.

8

"I’m saving you from his flirting tactics."

"Oh yeah? Who says I didn’t want to be flirted with?"

"Doesn’t matter," she rolls her eyes. "Come on, he’s waiting for us."

I smile unconsciously as I walk past her. This situation is actually quite funny. The poor salesperson doesn’t dare look at us when we sit on the stools in front of his desk. He prefers to focus on his screen to do his job. I suppress a smile when  Lucy continues her act by placing her hand on my knee. I have no idea what’s gotten into her, but I don’t mind it.

"So... uh, what would you like to do?" he finally looks at me.

"Open a new line."

"Alright... Are you already a customer with us?"

"Yes."

"She’d like a new no-contract plan,"  Lucy intervenes. "That’s what you wanted, right?" she asks me for confirmation.

I nod with a sly smile. The guy taps on the keyboard as I give him my line number. He accesses all the information my mom provided when setting it up. Fortunately, she had the sense to put it in my name, or else I wouldn’t have been able to change anything. He quickly switches the line when I tell him the plan I want with a new number.

"Uh... what model do you want?"

"iPhone 14 in white," I replied.

"Are you sure you don’t want to go for black, being undecided that you are?"  Lucy asks with an amused smile.

"Stop it," I giggle. "You’re really silly."

"Yet, I’m the one on top," she murmurs.

Her words were a whisper, but loud enough for the salesperson to hear. I can’t hide my surprise when I catch her smirking. I can’t believe she dared to say that! My cheeks flush with embarrassment, and I can’t think of anything to say in response. She’s taking this role-play way too far. The salesperson is so uncomfortable that he gets up, saying he’s going to get my phone from the stockroom.

"What were you thinking?" I spitied as soon as he left.

"Oh, it was just a joke. I’m not sure which of you was more uncomfortable," she teases.

"It wasn’t funny at all, you idiot!"

I can’t hold back my smile as she laughs even more. Goodness, I don’t understand what’s gotten into her all of a sudden. Just a few minutes ago, she was completely grumpy.

"We should play this game more often."

I turn my head to hide my embarrassment. I didn’t know she could be so teasing. I push her hand away when she tries to slide it up my thigh to provoke a reaction. I glare at her, but she’s not intimidated in the slightest. She just chuckles and places her hand back on my knee when the salesperson returns. He sets the box with my new phone on the counter after scanning the barcode.

"Alright. Now we just need to set it up. We can do it together if you’d like."

"Yes, please."

He removes the plastic wrapping and pushes the box toward me.

"Do you know how to do it yourself?"

"Of course."

"I’ll let you handle it then. Is there anything else you need?"

"A screen protector,"  Lucy replies.

I hadn’t thought of that, but it’s a good idea considering how my last phone ended up. I nod, and he gets up again. Meanwhile, I take my new phone out of the box and insert my new SIM card under  Lucy’s watchful eye.

"This game is ridiculous," I say.

"I thought I was doing you a favor," she says, removing her hand.

"A little, yeah. But we both know he wouldn’t have tried anything more."

"That’s true. I don’t know what made me react that way, but it annoyed me to see him looking at you like prey."

A foolish smile spreads across my lips. I appreciate that she doesn’t let people disrespect me. I try to convince myself that there’s no hidden motive behind it. That’s probably the case anyway. I turn on my phone and start setting it up, syncing it with my account. I feel relieved when I see my home screen, as if I never broke my previous phone. I’m thrilled to find all my data intact.

"Did you manage?" the salesperson asks upon his return.

"Yes, everything’s working," I reply with a smile.

"Great, here’s the receipt," he hands me a sheet of paper. "You’ll find a one-year warranty, your new phone number, and of course, the price. Are you paying by card?"

"Yes," I confirm.

He hands me the machine once he’s inserted my card. I enter my code before handing it back.  Lucy takes the bag where the salesperson has put the empty phone box and the receipt. I thank the salesperson as he returns my card.

"Have a good day," he wishes us.

"Thank you, you too."

I put my phone in my pocket before anything can happen to it, and we head out to meet Mapi and Ingrid. It wasn’t difficult to find them. They were waiting on a bench across from the store. The first thing Mapi asks me for is my new number. I choose the simplest way: sending her a message. I do the same with  Lucy and end up getting Ingrid’s number, which she readily gives me. “Just in case,” she says. I’m not sure I’ll use it, but at least I’ll know who to contact if I can’t reach  Lucy one day.

"So, movie night at my place tonight?"  Lucy suggests.

"Really?" Mapi enthuses. "Like, all four of us?"

"I’d love to leave you behind, but Ona wouldn’t let me."

We all laugh except for Mapi. The girls get up, and we head back down to the parking lot. Mapi immediately agrees to Ingrid’s offer to ride with her. I stay with  Lucy, who seems pleased to get rid of my best friend. I know she likes her and that it’s just her bad mood talking, so I’m not worried about the rest of our weekend. I’m beaming when she hands me the car keys.

"You’re letting me drive?!"

"Mm-hmm."

"But I don’t know the way to your place..."

"I’ll guide you."

I don’t ask her a third time and take her keys. She makes sure I’m settled in and have my license with me before letting me go. I start the car, unable to hide my smile as I think about the evening ahead.

[merrybloomwrites]

The Only Way of Knowing You (Chapter 4)

Story Summary: After a chance encounter, Y/N finds herself on a series of dates with Harry Styles. She shares with him her innocence regarding physical intimacy, and he takes his responsibility in teaching her all about that very seriously.

Chapter summary: This chapter contains a night of babysitting, and a night of passionate and clumsy firsts, all of which leads to a realization for Y/N.

Word Count: 3.6K

CW: oral (f and m receiving)

AN: I made up a lot of character for this story and haven’t mentioned them since chapter one so quick reminder of the cast list. Kyra is readers sister, Brian is Kyra’s husband, Wyatt is their daughter and Jasper is their son. Also, I names Gemma’s baby Adeline for the purpose of this story.

—————-

Waking up in Harry’s bed, his arm slung lightly across your waist, just feels right. Maybe that’s why sleepovers start becoming a normal occurrence after that first spontaneous night together.

Those nights tend to be grossly domestic, the two of you making dinner together in comfy clothes followed by an evening stroll around the neighborhood. You’d started watching a new show, saving episodes in order to view them together.

While most of the time is spent with innocent fun and conversation, there’s still the physical aspect of your relationship. Kisses come easily now, from little pecks to say good morning, to make out sessions that end with you grinding in Harry’s lap or having his fingers finding places inside of you that you didn’t even know existed.

All in all, things are going very well.

It’s Wednesday evening, and you’re home alone getting your things ready for work the next morning when your phone rings. Seeing Harry on the other line, you quickly answer, greeting him with a happy, “Hi honey.”

“Hi baby, how was your day?”

That’s how it always is with him, always checking on you and wanting to know how you’re doing. It makes you feel so happy, to be so seen by him.

“My day’s been good, better now that I can hear your voice,” you answer truthfully. A few months ago you could’ve cringed at that statement, but now that you're in your first committed relationship, things like that feel natural to say.

“Well that I agree with,” he replies.

“What’s up?” You ask, sensing he has a reason for the call. While you of course spend time talking on the phone, normally you text first to make sure the other is free for a chat.

“Gemma is wondering if you and I could babysit Friday night,” he says.

“Both of us?” You question.

“Honestly, I think she just wants you because you’re experienced with your niece but thought I might get offended so she asked for the two of us,” he replies with a laugh.

“I’m sure she trusts you, but you’re her baby brother. Hard to shake the thought that you’re still just a kid. Kyra was the same way the first couple times I watched Wyatt.”

“I guess that makes sense,” he says.

“But I’m definitely in for some babysitting. Kyra and Brian took the kids on a vacation for two weeks and I am missing kiddo time. Is it an overnight or just the evening?”

“They’re doing dinner and a show so 5 until 10 or so.”

“Sounds perfect!”

With that settled, the two of you talk for a little while longer before wishing each other a good night.

On Friday afternoon Harry picks you up and the two of you stop to grab the takeout he’d ordered.

You arrive at Gemma’s house and you’re greeted by Michal holding baby Adeline.

“Gems is just finishing her makeup, she’ll be down to give you all the instructions soon,” he says, passing the little girl to her Uncle Harry.

As promised, Gemma comes down a few minutes later, and after greeting you both she holds her daughter and begins to tell you everything you need to know for the evening.

“She gets a pouch and some banana at 6 and then she should be in the bath at about 7:30. Don’t worry about like, scrubbing her clean or anything, it’s more about routine and calming her down for bedtime. There’s a bottle in the fridge, so just throw that in the warmer. After bath make sure she’s dry. She has this rash on the back of her knees so use the ointment that’s on the changing table. I set out her jammies and her sleep sack so get her dressed and then feed her the bottle while rocking and she should fall asleep. If she fusses at all there’s dummy’s on the edge of the crib. What else?”

“I think you’ve covered it, sweetie,” Michal says, wrapping his arm around her reassuringly.

She laughs nervously and says, “Sorry, it’s my first time leaving her with anyone other than mum.”

“I completely understand,” you say. “We’re not offended that you’re a bit anxious, but I can tell you that you have nothing to worry about. We will take excellent care of your little girl.”

Soothed by your words and your confident demeanor, Gemma gives Adeline one more snuggle before passing her back to Harry and heading out the door.

The night goes smoothly, you and Harry working together to keep the little one happy. She’s a chill baby, appeased by the simplest tactics, even as bedtime nears. Just as Gemma said, she falls asleep in Harry’s arms as he feeds her the bottle and he carefully transfers her to her crib. While you wait for the parents to get home, Harry shows you some music he’s working on.

This is a newer development, him trusting you with something so personal to him, and you don’t take this trust lightly. You listen, amazed by the process of songwriting, and give your feedback when asked.

All in all, it’s a successful and easy night of babysitting. The hardest part, you admit to yourself, is watching Harry interact with his niece. Even though you try not to, your traitorous mind can’t help but imagine that this is what he’d be like if the two of you have children. So kind, and gentle, and deeply in love with them.

It makes your heart ache, and you realize that you are in love with this man. Not the Harry Styles persona that he gives to the world, but the kind, loving family man that he is at his core. This thought scares you. You’ve never felt anything like this before. So while you’re sure of your feelings, you keep them to yourself, just for now.

The next night you end up at Harry’s house. This is becoming more common, though he enjoys visiting your apartment as well, always saying that he loves how cozy it is.

But cozy as your place may be, it does not have the comfiest king sized bed ever created. Because that can only be found in Harry’s bedroom.

You’d finally gone to Le Petit Chateau after the fiasco of your last attempt, and the wait was worth it. Dinner was delicious, and you always enjoy an excuse to get dressed up. Especially when Harry is dressing up as well. He looks good in anything, of course, but you absolutely adore the way he looks in a suit.

Which is why it’s no surprise that you end up in the bedroom immediately upon arriving home. He’d driven tonight with one hand on the steering wheel, his other sliding under the fabric of your dress to rest teasingly on your upper thigh. Any pretense that the night would end innocently was gone the moment his finger slipped up just enough to run along your panties.

He’s behaved long enough for you to arrive safely at his place, kick off your shoes by the door, and make it to his room. Once inside though, there’s no holding back.

Harry sits on the end of the bed, pulling you to him and you hike up your skirt so you can straddle his thighs. The kiss is dirty, messy, your tongues sliding together as you run your hands through his soft hair. You want to feel more of him so you quickly push at his jacket. He gets the message and slides it off while you start unbuttoning his shirt.

If he’s surprised by how forward you’re being, he keeps it quiet. Once his chest is bare, you slide your fingers along the smooth skin, running them gently over the muscles. You’re addicted to the feeling, suddenly wanting more, wanting all barriers between you gone.

Suddenly, you get an idea. Something new you want to try. Something you’d always been scared of, maybe grossed out by the thought of, but with Harry it doesn’t seem so daunting.

You pull back, leaving your lips close enough to tease for a moment, and then you slide to the floor. Kneeling now, you place your hands on his thighs and look up at him through your eyelashes.

“What are you doing baby?” he asks.

“I want to try something. Is that okay?”

“Of course,” he replies, though you can see he’s still confused. He trusts you though, so when you start to unbutton his pants he doesn’t question anything, just shifts enough so you can remove the rest of his clothes. After tossing everything to the side, you look back at him, drinking in the sight of him naked in front of you.

It literally has your mouth watering, which is perfect for the activity you have in mind.

“I want to try something. Just, tell me to stop if you don’t like it. Or feel free to give tips,” you say.

“I’m sure I’m going to love whatever you do, sweetheart. Don’t stress, alright?”

“Alright,” you answer quietly. You take a deep breath, scanning Harry’s body once more before encouraging him to open his legs. Once you have enough room, you shift forward so you’re nestled between them.

You wrap your hand around his hard length, and begin to stroke him just the way he taught you. After a moment you take a deep breath. You hesitate a little longer but when you see Harry’s kind eyes watching you curiously, you get the last bit of bravery you need.

Leaning in, you finally open your mouth. You lightly lick the tip of Harry’s cock, and he shouts, “Fuck, baby!” You’re sure it’s a cry of pleasure, but you glance up just to make sure.

“Do that again, love,” he says. You follow his direction and then move to lick the rest of his dick, exploring him with just your tongue. After you spend some time doing that, you open your mouth wider, engulfing the tip in your mouth.

Harry groans as you do this, clearly enjoying your ministrations. You try to take more of him in your mouth, going as far as you can but Harry stops you, saying, “Don’t try to take all of me. Use your hand for the bottom.”

You pull back slightly, wrapping your hand around his base.

“That’s so good, sweetheart. Just like that,” he says, and you're delighted to hear he’s starting to sound breathless. You concentrate on the tip for a moment before swallowing him down again and he cries out. His hips thrust up, before he quickly pulls away. You gasp a breath and he cups your cheeks saying, “So sorry, didn’t mean to choke you. You okay?”

“I’m okay.”

“You’re doing so good. You feel amazing,” he says, and you preen at the compliment. Having caught your breath, you go back to what you were doing, and can tell Harry is quickly approaching his orgasm. He warns you that he’s about to come and you pull your mouth off, now using just your hand. You’re not quite ready for him to finish in your mouth, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

You continue to stroke him, twisting just right and sending him over the edge. He moans loudly as his cock twitches and spurts lines of cum that land on your hand and drip down your wrist. You work him through his orgasm and pull away when he hisses in sensitivity. You look at the liquid on your hand, and after debating for a moment you bring it up to your mouth and take a tentative lick.

“Fuck,” Harry says and his cock gives a halfhearted twitch against his leg. “You have no idea how hot you are. And that mouth is absolutely sinful. Can’t believe you’ve never done that before.”

“So it was good?” you ask, leaning into the hand that Harry has gently cupped on your cheek.

“I was bloody fantastic. C’mon, let's get you off the floor. Are your knees okay? Not too sore? And your jaw, does it feel alright?”

“I’m fine, Harry,” you answer with a laugh. He grabs a shirt off the floor and uses it to clean your hand and then helps you onto the bed.

“Lay down, baby, let me take care of you now. Say thank you for that fucking perfect blowie.”

You lay down and blush at his words, hiding your face in your hands, but he’s having none of that. He gently moves them out of the way and leans in to kiss you. You go pliant under him, letting him lead the kiss and just enjoying the feeling. His tongue swirls around yours, making you dizzy with pleasure.

He begins to kiss a trail down your body, starting with your cheeks, going down to your neck and then your cleavage. You arch your back, pushing your chest out and he plays with the strap of your dress.

“May I?” he asks, and you quickly nod, too intrigued by what is going to happen next to be self conscious. He lowers the straps of your dress, bringing down the fabric until your whole chest is revealed to him. He begins kissing there as well, before swirling his tongue around a nipple. He sucks it into his mouth, and it’s an odd sensation, but definitely a good one. He does the same on the other side before pulling away and moving lower.

He kneels on the bed in between your legs and asks, “Can I eat you out?”

“Excuse me?” You ask, unsure of what he means.

He chuckles at your confusion and then says, “Can I go down on you?”

When it’s obvious that you still don’t know what he means, Harry crawls back up so he’s hovering on top of you. His lips brush against your ear and he murmurs, “May I please lick your pussy until you come?”

“That’s a thing?” You practically shout and Harry barks out a laugh.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh. You’re just too cute. And how do you know what blowjobs are, and how to give an excellent one I might add, and not realize that women can get pleasure from another person's mouth as well?”

“I mean, logically blowjobs make sense. It’s the same concept as sex. Like, they stimulate in the same way. But I don’t understand how a woman can be stimulated with a mouth. It’s way different than sex.”

“It is different. But still good in its own unique way. Can I show you? Obviously we won’t if you’re uncomfortable or don’t want to. But I think you’ll be surprised,” he says.

“You don’t think it’s gross?” You ask. You know what it looks like down there, and can’t imagine why someone would want to put their mouth there. Granted you’d always thought the same thing about penises, but it seemed less icky when it was Harry.

“It’s not gross at all. Nothing about you could ever be gross.”

“Okay,” you say a moment later.

“Okay?”

“Yea. We can try it. What uhm, what do I do?”

“You just lay back and look pretty. Let me take care of you and make you feel good. And as always, if you want me to stop just tell me and we stop right away.”

Following his directions, and trying to not get too in your own head, you lay back on the pillows. He goes back to kissing you, his mouth moving against yours before traveling down your chest once again. You try to get lost in the feeling and let yourself enjoy what he’s doing, but you can’t get comfortable.

Realizing it’s your dress that’s bothering you and you push Harry back gently.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

“My dress is pinching me.” You answer. Harry is there, kneeling between your legs, still naked, and you buck up the courage to say, “Can you help me take it off?”

“You’re sure?”

“I am,” you say, sitting up so he can get to the zipper. His hands land on your shoulders, rubbing gently along your upper back for a moment before finding the zipper. He slowly pulls it down, giving you an opportunity to stop him, but you don’t. You want this. It may be scary, being completely bare, but this is Harry. You want to be open with him.

He lifts the dress over your head and gently folds it before placing it on the ground. It warms your heart that even in this moment, he’s so careful with your belongings.

“Lay back,” he says, his hands guiding you onto the pillows once more. He gently strokes at your newly exposed tummy before placing kisses to it.

“This too?” He asks, his fingers now running along the waistband of your panties.

Resisting the urge to take a nervous breath, you reply with a confident sounding yes. He pulls them off, his eyes watching the fabric move down your legs, not immediately looking at your now bare genitals.

There’s a moment of nervous anticipation before he finally looks at the most private part of your body. Before your anxiety rises he says, “Beautiful. You’re absolutely perfect.”

Your entire body heats up at the compliment, and you resist the urge to hide your face behind your hands. As though reading your mind, Harry says, “No point in getting all bashful, you’re going to be hearing compliments like that from me all the time. Better get used to it.”

“I think I can live with that.”

“Good. Now let me work, you’ve never experienced the joy of being eaten out and I plan to remedy that.”

You can’t help but giggle at his statement, still loving how casual and fun he makes all of this feel, rather than serious and intimidating. All thoughts leave your mind, however, when his kisses move to your inner thighs, his breath ghosting over your overheated core and making you shiver.

When his lips wrap about your clit, you arch off the bed and shout out in pleasure and surprise. You’d thought the friction of him rubbing there felt good, but this wet, hot suction? Possibly the best thing you’ve ever experienced in your life.

He then moves his tongue through your folds, lapping at your wetness in a way that should be gross, but is truly so incredibly hot. He switches between licking and sucking, greatly enjoying himself if the noises he’s making are anything to go by.

And then he sticks his tongue inside you. And it’s game over. His nose is angled just perfectly on your clit, and his tongue gives you just the right stimulation to have you seeing stars. More wetness gushes out as you ride out your orgasm, and Harry doesn’t hesitate to lap up all of your juices.

He sponges kisses all over your body while you catch your breath before finally coming up to hover over you, his eyes meeting yours.

“How was that?” he asks.

“That was…wow…it was-” you cut yourself off, truly unable to form words to describe the experience.

“That good huh?” he says cockily and you both laugh together.

“It was. It was that good, Harry,” you say once you’re able to say a full sentence.

“Wanna take a bath with me?” is his next question.

“Obviously I do,” you answer, and he kisses you quickly before jumping out of bed and going into the attached bathroom.

He comes back after a minute and picks you up, cradling you in his arms as he carries you to the tub that’s now full with warm bubbly water. Harry places you in before sliding behind you and you lean back against him.

It’s relaxing, few words spoken as you rest together and clean each other up. When the water turns cool Harry gets out to grab towels and robes for each of you. He helps you stand and dries you off before helping you into a robe. You stand together in the bathroom brushing teeth and washing faces before going back into the bedroom.

“Would you like to borrow some pajamas?” he asks.

You hesitate, trying to decide what you want. Normally you’d immediately answer yes, but being completely naked alongside him earlier had felt so nice, so freeing. Part of you craves that skin to skin contact. But it’s out of character for you, and you’re not sure how he would react to that.

Deciding to not explain yourself, you simply remove your robe and climb into bed, hoping he’ll get the message. He watches you and takes off his robe as well, giving you a look as though asking if that’s what you want. You nod in reply and he gets into bed as well, laying on his back so you can tuck against his side. You rest your head on his chest and he wraps an arm around your shoulders.

You get lost in your mind, thinking about these new sexual encounters you’ve had with Harry. Up until now, nothing more than a tampon had ever entered you, and now he has. If you can feel so connected to him when it’s just his fingers or his tongue, what will he be like when it’s his cock? How close will you feel then? How good will it be to physically merge your bodies, especially when you’re so emotionally tied? You want to find the answer to these questions. Soon.

A press of lips to your head brings you out of your thoughts and you look up so you can share a kiss.

“Good night, baby,” Harry says.

“Good night,” you reply. As you drift off to sleep in Harry’s arms, you can’t help but think that it really was a good night indeed.

————

AN: Thank you for reading this chapter! Final chapter is next Friday and then my next series will be One Direction x reader (ABO pack fic)

[l0lita-luv]

More head cannons!!! Maybe how she would be in a relationship on a regular degular day? Thinking slice of life type stuff 😭❤️‍🔥

Anon I love you so much for this! I’m guessing you’re taking about Ellie so here you go!!

What a day looks like with Ellie! Headcanons

Ellie Williams x Fem!reader

Fluff!

warnings-use of y/n-reader is described a little more as a fem

a/n- So sorry for posting so late! I’ve been super busy but finally finished it up today!!

Morning

Ellie is not a morning person!

Veryyyy touchy especially in the morning

You always have to beg her to let go of you so you can go make breakfast

“Ellie I have to go start breakfast!” You tell her for the hundredth time, “No! Stay.” Ellie snaps back. “Ok but don’t start getting whiny on me when you’re hungry.” You respond in a light tone, Ellie scoffed, “I do not whine!” She yells back offended.

Once she falls asleep again you have to carefully sneak out of bed

She finally wakes up after another thirty minutes

While you’re cooking, she likes to snake her hands around your waste and nuzzle her face into your neck

“Ellie, please stop stalling and get ready for work please.” You have been pleading with her for the past thirty minutes, she hates leaving you alone in the house, “I’m not stalling! But ok, ok I’ll go get ready.” She huffs going upstairs.

Afternoon

I’m not completely sure of what she would do for work but, she gets off of work around 3-4pm when she’s lucky

Today was one of those lucky days!

When she gets back from work, girl is tired!

But feels better when she walks in and sees you, and smelling the scent of her favorite lunch

You usually asks her about her day and she just starts ranting to you about different ways her co-workers made her upset!

“I literally told him the deadline was by the end of last week! And he turns it in today?” Ellie rants upset that her boss got upset and her too.

Usually takes a shower with you

Nighttime

The two of you always finish the day by watching some show you somehow got her to watch such as 90 day fiancé

She swears she only watches it with you but secretly watches episodes without you!

She got caught once because she accidentally gave you a spoiler

When you two eventually go to sleep, this girl tries to keep you up later with her knowledge of space facts!

It works all the time, you two usually end up sleeping at one in the morning!

Loves spooning you and holding you really tightly

Holds your hand while cuddling sometimes

Whispers sweet nothings into your ear until you fall asleep

Night/morning + cuddling headcanons with Ellie…

wc- 381

[madridfangirl]

Star crossed lovers (Jude Bellingham fic)

Chapter 5

(Series Link)

Jude * female reader. Mature Language in parts.

Synopsis: A chance encounter in a tiny Madrid cafe with the newest superstar of her fav club. The two couldn't be more different, yet both feel the pull toward the other. Would this girl be the one he finally falls for? Would she make him change his ways? Even though she resists him every step of the way, would he fight all odds (& her) to have her in his life? Or would life come in the way of these star-crossed lovers?

..........................................................

Ananya reached her apartment around 1 am. Roma was not back yet, thankfully. She wasn’t ready for her interrogation. 

The night still felt surreal. She leaned against the dining table and held on to the edges to steady the head-rush she was feeling. If the Tupperware of leftover pasta was not in front of her (he had insisted she took some coz she had barely eaten), the girl would have seriously wondered if she had hallucinated the whole thing. But no, this really happened. And she didn’t bail on whatever this was, as she had initially planned to do.

The wine was still buzzing in her system, helping calm her nerves. Before turning in for the night, she sent him a quick message.

Ananya: Reached 15 mins ago. Thanks for the drop. 

She wasn’t expecting a response. He must have a ton of people to talk to / respond to after the match earlier that night. So she started an episode of Friends, hoping to fall asleep in a bit.

5 mins later, her phone flashed.

Jude: Cool. Tired?

Ananya: Oh yeah, in bed already. You?

She rubbed her temple to soothe her straining eyes. It had been some day. 

Jude: Wanted to crash but some of the guys still partying at Vini’s house. Cama kept sending me videos, gosh he’s so wasted right now. Came there for a bit.

She smiled at her phone. The team deserved every bit of celebration tonight.

Ananya: That’s nice. Have fun :)

Jude: Yup. What plans for tmrw? Boss cancelled our training so I am free till afternoon. 

Ananya: Have to work a few hours in the morning, which might extend, not sure.

Jude: On Sunday morning?

Ananya: Welcome to investment banking.

Jude: Keep forgetting how smart you are.

Ananya: Not that smart, but ok :)

Jude: So, I have an ad shoot tomorrow evening, then flying out for an away game on Monday after training. Don’t know when I will see you next.

A wave of sadness hit her, surprising her with its force. Her brain admonished her. She had only just met him and she needed to get a grip. 

Ananya: It’s fine. Will figure something when you are back.

Jude: Hmm. Haven’t even kissed you yet and you are already messing with my head.

The sadness was replaced by a warm shiver as she stared at the screen and thought of a response. But couldn’t come up with any.

Jude: Did you just fall asleep on me? 

Ananya: Stop being dramatic. I am right here.

Jude: Naa, wish you were HERE. Why’d you leave?

Ananya: Jude, you know why.

There was something about the way she said his name that made him want to hear it on loop, in various settings. God damnit this girl.

Jude: Yeah yeah. You thought we won’t be able to keep it in our pants.

She choked on water, and some spilled out on her blanket. 

Ananya: How drunk are you?

Jude: Plentyyyy. Don even know what’s been shoved down my throat anymore. 

Ananya: Figures :)

Jude: One last thing. Veryyyy important, like proper critical. 

Ananya: Yes?

Jude: Need to see you in my jersey. 

She smiled to herself before typing.

Ananya: Maybe win the Madrid derby next, score the winner, and then we’ll talk?

Jude: Tough, tough crowd. No mercy. No rest for the wicked. No respect for the Classico winner. 

He was even more dramatic when he was drunk. She could almost hear the whining from his texts.

Ananya: Good night, Jude :)

Jude: Good night, dove. Try not to dream of me too much. Mwahhh!

She smiled at the screen and ended up kissing it, finally drifting off to sleep.

Next morning, she woke up to a message from him. Sent at 5 am. A drunk out of their wits pic with Jude, Cama and Fede. Along with a caption.

Jude: Your preciousss Cama.

Then, another message from a few seconds later.

Jude: Don’t stare too long. 

She responded with a heart emoji to the picture and got started with her day.

Next few hours were hectic. She got into her work mode, shutting out all the madness that had transpired the day before.

Still, in between, her eyes drifted to her phone, to see if there were any new messages. Poor guy must have been sleeping. Or busy. He did say he had an ad shoot in the second half.

She somehow pulled through the day, and it was almost 5 pm when she finally finished work. Roma was also on the same project. The girls sighed about it being Monday morning just  next day, and decided to make the most of their remaining evening. 

They ended up at the same cafe where Ananya had met him the other day. Was it just two days ago? God - so much had happened since then.

She ordered her favourite churros and took a picture. Then wondered whether she should send it to him. Would it look desperate? Like she was just seeking his attention? She couldn’t have that.

But it was a harmless pic. He would get the reference. Deciding to not overthink it, she ended up sending the photo with a caption.

Ananya: Back to ground zero!

No blue tick for over 15 mins.

Roma rolled her eyes at her then.

‘Can you stop the sappiness? Look around - lovely day. Lovely food. Let’s get some Sangria and let the world go to hell.’

Her roommate was the best. The two perfectly complimented each other. Plus, her American upbringing lent her this carefree attitude which Ananya really wished to imbibe.

‘Well, how can anyone say no to Sangria?’

The girls ordered a pitcher and ended up staying there for a few hours. Gossiping about their colleagues. Talking about life. Planning a vacation - Sevilla and Granada were top of their list. They looked up their calendars and found a long weekend that seemed ideal. The prospect itself making them cheerful.

By the time they got back, it was already 9 pm. There was still nothing from him. Not even a blue tick. She knew he was working. Yet, an ugly thought still creeped in - was this just a one night distraction? Did he already…lose interest after she dumped her constraints on him? All her doubts from last night came rushing back, leaving an unpleasant taste in her mouth.

She got into bed and tried watching a movie. Anything random to keep her thoughts at bay. While scrolling through her insta.

And there it was - a post from him a few mins ago about the ad campaign for a cologne. With a gorgeous, stunning model at his arm. Ofcourse. 

The first photo looked like a part of the creative. The two were dressed immaculately in all black, she was leaning against his chest while his hand rested just above her butt. Seductiveness oozing from every inch of that frame.

The next was a BTS video - of him just being goofy on set while getting ready or trying to take a shot & not getting it right. The whole crew just getting charmed by his antics and boyish smiles. The model, in particular being extra supportive, extra attentive, giggling a bit too hard while holding onto his arm. Perfect hair, perfect figure and perfect skin. Ofcourse. 

And just then, her insta reels recommendation showed Jude hugging multiple female fans who had lined up outside his shoot. They screamed his name, begging for hugs and he obliged. Warm, cozy, Jude hugs. Granted he only wrapped one arm around their shoulder and looked embarrassed when some of them reached up to kiss his cheek or pulled him closer, but still. This wasn’t something she needed to see right now. 

Was this going to be her life from now on? Curled into bed, following his activities on social media, feeling inadequate. She didn’t deserve it. No girl deserved this. 

She threw her phone aside and forced herself to focus on the movie. It was already 9:45, it would be best to get some sleep soon. Next week was going to be super hectic at work. Yes, work is what she needed do focus on. That’s why she was halfway across the world in this city. That was her goal in life right now. Not some ridiculously handsome random boy who made women go weak in their knees everywhere he went. 

Around 10 pm, her phone buzzed. She had tucked herself into bed by then and almost decided to not look at it. But curiosity got the better of her.

Jude: Heyyy. Sorry my phone was not with me. Just getting back from a shoot.

She was equal parts relieved and irritated with that message. Ananya took a deep breath to calm herself down, and thought of a neutral response.

Ananya: Oh yeah, you had mentioned. How did it go?

Jude: Not too bad. Somehow got an ok on my take, that’s all I care about honestly. This acting gig ain’t no joke. 

Ananya: Hmm.

Jude: Churros looked lovely. Hope you had fun.

Ananya: Yep, and yep.

Jude: Tired? Am I keeping you from something?

Ananya: Nope. 

Jude: Why so wry then? What’s happened?

Oh, how she wanted to scream. What’s happened was exactly what she didn’t want to happen. What she swore she won’t put herself through with another boy. And this was amplified 1000 times here coz of who Jude was. 

She started typing, then deleted, then typed again, unable to find the right words. This went on for two mins. 

Jude: Can I call?

She sighed, exasperated. Her voice will immediately give away her irritated and confused state. But he knew something was up and typing like this was getting exhausting.

Ananya: Sure.

He called the next second. She braced herself, then answered. 

‘Hey.’

She couldn’t have possibly made it sound drier even if she tried. 

‘Hey. Wassup?’

‘Nothing, was just about to crash. Already in bed.’

‘Hmm, won’t keep you for long. Just wanna hear your voice.’

Damn him. To the moon and back. Damn his sweet agonising voice. 

‘Why? Looks like you had enough company today.’

The words just tumbled out of her before she could check herself. Great going girl, way to make yourself look pathetic. 

He paused for a few seconds.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Nothing, forget it.’

‘Tell me you’ll sort this on your own and wake up all fine tomorrow morning, I’ll leave it be.’

She knew that wasn’t gonna happen. There was also no way for this to ever work if she wasn’t honest with him. Especially given his situation, things will just compound and then break very quickly. If they ever even get started, that is. 

‘The photos bothered me a bit.’

She could sigh him breathe audibly at the other end - probably getting irritated at her insecurity. Or her immaturity. Maybe both. 

‘What about them bothered you?’

Damn him for always making her spell everything out loud.

‘Just…her? Everything about that stunning woman. Looks like she fancied you.’

She could tell the wheels were churning in his mind at the other end.

‘I see. And you think I should be with someone like her. In fact, maybe I am going to her hotel room right now & talking to you on the way.’

Her silence was deafening. Jude gripped the edge of his seat to not curse out loud. 

‘Ananya - didn’t we speak about this last night? Are we gonna go back full circle here?’

‘I am sorry. It’s just - I don’t know how I could ever compete with someone like that. Also, I don’t want to. I am a normal, regular girl Jude. Don’t need that in my life right now, or ever.’

‘YOU DON’T HAVE TO COMPETE. Can’t you see you have already won?’

Warmth and fuzziness ran over her, making her feel gooey inside. She had to clutch her tummy to arrest that feeling. To arrest the freefall. 

‘You don’t know what’s gonna happen.’

Jude fought the urge to throw his phone against the opposite seat. 

‘DO YOU? Does anyone? Girl, why don’t you believe me when I say I want you? Should I list down how much I have fantasised about you the last two days? How much I wanna…..’

‘Stop, please stop Jude. Please.’

Both were breathing heavily at this point, for different reasons.

‘Can I ask you for one thing, Ananya? Try trusting me till I give you an explicit reason not to. I am not such a dog, y’know. Yes, I have seen multiple girls together before but all parties KNEW it was casual. No commitments. This is not that. This is not a situationship. I would have told you to your face if that’s what I was looking for.’

She clutched her phone close to her chest. Him being who he was had made it all so hard. But he was right - he hadn’t done anything. Well, not yet. 

‘I don’t know what to say, Jude. Like I know a lot of this is in my head but I don’t know how to make it go away.’

Heavy breathing continued at both ends. He broke the silence after a few moments. 

‘How about this? Ask me what you really wanna ask me. All your unsaid questions, assumptions, perceptions about me that make you want to distance yourself. I won’t lie, promise. Be the smart girl I know you are and break it down like you will a work project.’

That was actually a fair suggestion. She could see what he was trying to do by appealing to her logical side. Not just a pretty face. Clearly not. 

She chucked her inhibitions on how crude her questions might sound. He was right - without this they would keep coming back full circle.

‘So…when you said you were dating multiple women together..’

‘Seeing…not dating.’

He clarified before she could go on. It was an important distinction for him. 

‘Yes, seeing them together, how long back was that?’

‘In Dortmund.’

‘Hmmm.’

She didn’t know how to feel about that. So she skipped to the next obvious question.

‘And…what about Madrid?’

‘Seen a couple, texted a couple, but not at the same time.’

‘Ok. When was the last time you were…you know..’

He understood the question before her finishing it.

‘Two weeks ago.’

‘I see.’

That wasn’t too long back. Was he still in touch with her? Did they meet up at his house? Something about the last thought made her feel icky.

‘And, these rendezvous, usually happen where?’

He chuckled at her choice of words. She really was something. 

‘At a hotel close by. It’s a private, exclusive property.’

‘Ofcourse.’

He could tell there was a tinge of sarcasm in that last word but chose to let it go.

‘Are you in touch with her….the last one?’

‘Not since a week.’

She was feeling particularly bold at this point. Jude could anticipate her next question from a mile away.

‘Well, are you planning to?’

‘Nope. Not her. Not anyone else. I will only be with you and you will only be with me. Exclusively.’

He declared without hesitation. Her mouth open and closed at his last line, unsure of how to react. He waited patiently. 

‘And what about the hordes of women who throw themselves at you daily? Who would do absolutely anything you want, and more?’

‘There is no easy fix here. You will have to find a way to believe that I will not stray, I will not indulge them.’

He could have backed his statement with evidence. Coz the model from today did slip him her number & he had politely wriggled out of that. But even he had the good sense to know this wasn't the time to bring that up.

She appreciated how he didn’t try to feed her any rosy crap, really following through on answering honestly. His tone & speed of response gave her enough assurance that he wasn’t being evasive. 

She had run out of questions and said as much to him. Weirdly, in some inexplicable way, this was healing.

‘My turn then.’

This caught her off guard. But it was a fair ask, after the grilling she just put him through. 

‘Sure, go ahead.’

‘Open your door in precisely 1 minute. I will ask in person.’

The phone dropped from her hand as she sat up, landing somewhere under the blanket. She reached for it blindly with one hand while switching on the lights with the other. 

‘What do you mean in person? You don’t know where I live.’

‘Agnes knows.’

Ofcourse. His driver had dropped her home last night. Great, his presence was making her dumb now.

‘But….what if someone sees you? Roma is home too. The house is so messy. And I am, I am..One second, your shoot was on the other side of town and this is not in your way. What would you be doing here? Are you messing with me?’

She rambled faster that the speed of light. He ignored every other comment but picked up on the last one.

‘How did you know where my shoot was?’

Damn. Bloody rotten hell. She groaned audibly on the phone and he laughed out loud.

‘Dove is a stalkerrrrrr!’

He said teasingly, in a sing-song voice. 

Before she could respond, she heard a car honk under her window. No, this couldn’t be. He wouldn’t. Would he?

‘Buzz me in and open the door. I am getting out of the car now.’

Ananya rushed frantically to the door, buzzing the building gate open. The idea of someone seeing him here filling her with nerves. Thankfully, she was on the first floor, half a staircase away from the building door.

Three seconds later, she saw him enter the building. Eight seconds later, she was grabbing his arm and pulling him into the apartment, shutting the door firmly behind them.

What was he thinking? What if someone had seen him outside? The media crap storm would have been unstoppable. How irresponsible was this? The gall of him to show up unannounced like that, anytime he wanted. Oh, she was mad. Raving mad.

Before she could turn around and give him a piece of her mind, strong arms wrapped around her from behind. 

‘Sorry. Just wanted to see you once before I fly out tomorrow. Didn’t want to leave on this note.’

And just like that, he knocked the fight out of her chest. With two simple lines. Frankly she was a goner at sorry itself. The boy carried a magic wand of persuasion with him. 

Her shoulders, which were tensed in anger, dropped as she leaned back into his chest. He kissed the back of her head, conveying his gratitude.

She could stay like this forever. In his warm, comforting hold. His scent, familiar by now (when did that happen?), seeping into her skin, taking over her senses. His big, calloused hands enveloping her smaller ones. Involuntarily, she sighed.

‘Thank you for being honest with me earlier. I feel better now.’

‘I am glad. My turn? Only have one question.’

‘Ofcourse.’

He turned her around in his arms and tilted her chin up to look straight into her eyes.

‘Would you let me kiss you right now?’

Time stood still. She was very numb yet very aware in that moment. The dim lighting in the living room from the night lamp, the faint noise from the street, the rhythmic tapping of feet coming from Roma’s locked room who was blaring music on her headphones. All registering in some peripheral part of her brain.

But what she was hypnotised by was his face, and his eyes, gazing intently at her, drawing her in. How was it ever possible to say no to that face? To those big brown eyes which looked even deeper, softer, more vulnerable than ever before?

She didn’t realise when he took off his jacket, nudged her towards the dining table a short distance away, put his hands on the sides of her waist, lifted her slightly to place her on the table. But when her legs were being parted gently so he could stand in front of her, their torsos touching, her trance broke. The heat radiating from his body was palpable. 

Jude’s face was inches away, almost eye level.  A pleasing, handsome, perfectly symmetrical face. The dim lighting creating a halo around him. Ananya tilted her head to look at Roma’s room and if it was still locked. But he put two fingers on her cheek to turn her back to him.

‘Been waiting for this since I saw you.’

Jude lifted her arms & wrapped them around his neck, while his hands stroked her back. The flimsy fabric of her tank top not providing any barrier; it was almost like he was stroking her skin. Her legs, spread wide apart to fit him in, dangled aimlessly on the edge of the table.

How was he expecting a coherent verbal response from her in this situation?

She slowly slid one of her hands from his long muscly neck to his hair, fingers gliding through the thick, firm, soft curls. Her eyes searching his, telling him this is the best she could do right now.

That was all the signal he needed. Her grip in his hair tightened as he angled his head to cover her lips with his. Plump, pillowy lips caressing hers. Making her tightly shut her eyes and whimper out. Which broke something in him.

He dove in again with more urgency, parting her lips this time, getting them to move in sync with his. She gladly obliged, submitting to his rhythm while her heart hammered against her chest. She wondered if he could hear it too. But he was too occupied with tasting her mouth. All her little sounds & shudders giving him a head rush. His hot breath fanning her cheeks. 

When her whimpers went up an octave, he gave her a little breather, connecting their foreheads as they breathed in the same air. Her hands had fallen to the wide expanse of his shoulders, clutching at them to anchor herself. 

He kissed her forehead, the top of her eyes, and placed two delicate pecks on each cheek. His light stubble grazing her skin. She tilted her head involuntarily along with his movements, giving him ready access, like a puppy would to someone petting it. 

‘Ananya, lemme see you.’

The way he said her name, the fondness in his voice, it was like a silent command she couldn’t deny. Her hands gripped his shoulders tighter as she opened her eyes. 

He smiled affectionately, and it took her breath away. All the walls she had built around herself, all the rules, all the notions of just focusing on her work for now, this boy had bulldozed his way through all that with just his breathtaking smile.

Some part of her still conscious brain tried to chide her that she was no different than any of the other girls fawning over him. All it took was him showering her with his undivided attention and she was putty in his hands. But her brain couldn’t get a word in edgewise, her other senses had taken over. 

Jude reached for her hands, unclasped them from his shoulders, somehow sensing the tension in them. What he did next made her lightheaded. He moved his lips to her palms, placing soft, lingering kisses on both. And then, he moved her hands to his face, as if asking her to hold him. Somehow, this felt even more intimate than their kiss. 

His unending torso was all hard muscle, pressed into hers, but his face was soft. Rugged yet soft. Her hands couldn’t even fully cover his cheeks, she noted absentmindedly. So she used the pads of her thumbs to stroke the rest of his gorgeous face. 

Suddenly, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer into him. She looked up in surprise, finding darker, hooded eyes. 

‘The next time you wanna run away from me, remember this feeling.’

Not only had his eyes changed colour but his voice had turned hoarse too. Insistent lips crashed into hers, prying them open, his tongue penetrating her mouth. She gasped at the invasion. One of her hands fell from his face  & settled behind her on the table, trying to find balance, as the force of his kiss made her lean backwards, with him looming over her. 

His spare hand gripped her bare thigh to help steady her. She just realised how her tiny sleeping shorts had completely inched up her legs, leaving them almost fully bare. His hand was firm and his fingers dug into her skin, making her head spin.

She lost her balance, despite his support, falling further backwards and knocking down a container behind her on the table. He broke the kiss & stretched his arm to reach for the container, finding it just before it was about to crash on the floor. While she just panted in his hold.

‘Jude…I..’

‘Shhhhh, I got you.’

They fell into a warm, comforting embrace. Arms settling around each others’ backs. Her face resting in the crook of his neck as he quietly stroked her hair.

‘Did it ever occur to you that it’s hard for me to trust as well?’

That made her grudgingly break the hug and look up at him with confused eyes, while their arms remained locked around each other. 

‘It’s tough to figure if someone really likes me for me or it’s the lifestyle, fame, money and exposure that they are after. If a private encounter would remain private or the details would be splashed over some social media later. If some photoshopped images or invented stories be circulated as sworn truth. I have struggled to judge, so honestly I stopped trying. Keeping it just about sex was simpler. Uncomplicated. Convenient. No strings attached.’

No, it hadn’t occurred to her at all. Not till he put it like that. On any other day, she would have been irked at him trying to conveniently defend his conscious indulgences. But it felt more like an admission than justification. 

She stroked his neck and shoulders as he continued being vulnerable with her. 

‘You see, the normal and regular you think to be such a distancing factor, is in fact the opposite. A huge chunk of my life will always be public, I get that. I signed up for that. But this bit, I wanna protect. I’d love to come home to someone normal.’

Ananya stroked his face with all the tenderness she could muster. Trying to show that she understands. From the way he relaxed into her, she figured he got her message. 

Jude knew he had to be careful with her. Seeing her skimpy nightclothes hugging her body tonight had already disrupted his brain chemistry. He couldn’t shake the thought of how easy it would be to just push her on her back then & there. To rid her of the flimsy fabric barely covering her form l, with one determined tug. 

That’s why he knew he had to leave soon, while he was still thinking with his head. She wasn’t ready, not yet. 

‘That your room?’

He tilted his head towards the open door at the end of the corridor. 

‘Uh-huh.’

‘Want me to carry you in and tuck you into bed? I will leave after a goodnight kiss.’

She met his gaze with a twinkle in her eye, cocking her head sideways, biting her lip slowly. His eyes followed every little movement. 

‘Think you can handle being in my bedroom just to tuck me in?’

Boy, he didn’t see that coming. Didn’t know she had it in her. It immediately made him even more interested. The open challenge in her eyes, the suggestive tone, and that jutting out bottom lip. That needed to be responded to.

He leaned in and bit down at the same spot on her lower lip, making it sting a bit, then flicking it with his tongue. His hand gripped her bare thigh again, knocking the sass out of her.

‘Lippy. So lippy. I love it.’

He continued rubbing circles on her thigh with his thumb till he drew a moan out of her, despite her biting her cheek to keep it in.

‘Your pretty brain may not approve of me yet, but your body is definitely #TeamJude.’

She gasped, and he chose that moment to lean in for a deep goodnight kiss. Making it wet & sloppy, on purpose, so much so that she had to wipe her mouth with the back of her hand when he was done with her.

‘Sleep tight, dove. Talk to ya tomorrow. And..’

He leaned in to whisper in her ear, enunciating each word.

‘Will think about you tonight. Maybe in the car as well.’

With one last attempted wink, he bid her goodbye and walked out. While she was still perched up on the table, her body tingling everywhere he had touched her, her lips tasting of him, and her mind reeling from what had just happened.

……………………… 

There it is. Was delayed because, well, the pictures threw me off :)

As always, feedback / comments are always welcome. Hope you are enjoying their journey so far!

[notafragilething]

Late Night Buck & Tommy Ramble: I'm Feeling Good About Thursday

I know I haven't posted one of these in several days, I had a super busy weekend with lots of fun events. But I'm back now and super excited about the stills that dropped today. With only about 46 hours left until the finale, I'm feeling really excited as a BuckTommy fan.

Now, I know there are a lot of people out there saying that BuckTommy is bones or saying Buddie is happening but I'm fairly confident that is not happening. In fact, I think a lot of people have the timeline wrong. Please keep in mind that everything I say here is speculation and I may be wrong. But I spent a lot of time today looking really closely at these pictures in an attempt to put a timeline together.

So let's get into it:

Let's start with my timeline of events, that is pretty different than what most people are going with. I've seen really heavy speculation that the date is the opening scene but based on the end of episode 9, all the stills we have, behind the scenes photos and the promo? I think that's wrong. It simply does not work with the timeline.

I think the episode starts with Athena waking up in the hospital, talking to an unconscious Bobby in his hospital room and then taking off to find Amir and try to solve who started the fire. Note that we don't see her with any of the other characters in the hospital. She's likely gone before they show up.

I think after that, we're going to jump to Eddie's house that morning. He's clearly wearing a different outfit than what he got caught with Kim in. I think those stills of him and Buck talking in the living room are him explaining to Buck what happened. After that I think his parents will show up and we find out that Christopher called them the night before and they flew in. That will lead to Eddie telling his parents about Kim and showing them a picture in the kitchen. Buck will interrupt because he will have gotten a phone call about Bobby (the still of him entering the kitchen from the living room with his phone) and the two will take off.

Next we'll get all the hospital scenes that we've seen. I actually think this is going to be shorter than we expect (kinda similar to bachelor party and the medal ceremony). I think people who said it's Bobby waking up in the promo and trying to remove his breathing tube were correct. Everything we've seen from the hospital has those four in the same outfits. There is a no second day there. I think he wakes up sometime that afternoon. Pretty sure Bobby waking up super early is one of the many twists we're getting and is meant to throw us off about what is really happening this episode.

Which means I think the Buck and Tommy date? It happens after the hospital when Buck gets home. I was initially thrown by Buck looking so happy but if Bobby had just woken up? He'd be happy. Similar to how we see Hen, Chimney and Maddie looking really happy in other stills from this episode that clearly happen after the hospital. So I actually don't think we're going to see Buck leaving this date early.

In other good signs for Buck & Tommy moving into season 8:

The official instagram posted 4 stills from this episode not that long ago. Of the four, one of them was Buck and Tommy. It was also the first one so it shows up first for everyone. That most definitely was not accidental and is another shift showing they're using BuckTommy to promote the show.

The Reel of the BuckTommy hospital kiss is about to hit 1.5 million. It was at 1496k when I checked it. It's currently the 5th most viewed reel out of the 147 on the account.

This isn't BuckTommy related but I'm very intrigued that the Kim/Eddie boat BTS reel has hit 10 million. Which is a crazy outlier for this show when it comes to reels. I think it's because they invented a new technique to make it look like they were sailing on the water and it's cool to see the technical side of things so it likely got shared by a lot of people in the field. Very cool thing to see.

That's it for now. I'll definitely pop in tomorrow and let you know if there is anything new. Since we got the photos a day or so early, I'm really hoping that means they have something in store for us tomorrow as well.

If you have any questions or just want chat send me messages. I have so many thoughts and feelings that I'd love to talk about.

[dozing-marshmallow]

Howdy! I hope you have a good morning/afternoon/evening/night!

So, can you do Chris McLean x Wife!Reader where Reader is his exact opposite? Like, Reader is serious, seems indifferent and looks intimidating, rarely smiles or laughs, but inside, she's a very soft person and cares about those she loves. Extra points if Reader is, like, VERY tall (almost like Jasmine) and VERY strong. Like, Chris only reaches up to her chest/collarbone, and she can literally pick him up and carry him all over the island without getting tired.

And she's very good for cuddling because her hugs always feel so protective.

Hi lovely! Thank you for sending this in, I hope you enjoy reading it and have a wonderful day!💝✨

CHRIS MCLEAN X WIFE! KUUDERE! READER ONE SHOT

Realistically, Chris would not want to be with a tall woman, but your smaller size did not measure how strong you still were.

And intimidating.

Every episode, interview, event, your face was the same. Stoic. Frowning.

You’ve heard the “guess the wind must have changed direction” joke one million times.

You don’t understand why people seem to be more frightened of you than of your husband, the Chris McLean.

Your hobbies don’t involve TNT or torture.

You were knitting a quilt for a local charity, diligent fingers at work, when a pair of arms deluged you from the side.

“(Y/NNNN)!”

You pause.

Your husband chuckles, rubbing his rough cheek against yours as he booped your nose,“Boop! Hellooooo, (Y/N)! Helloooooo!”

“...”

“Come onnnn, what’s a TV host gotta do to get a thing like you to respond?” he asks melodramatically, grabbing your face and controlling it to face him.

“I’m busy.” you managed to say through your squished cheeks.

“So you can’t spare one ounce of attention for your beloved husband?” 

You rotate your head as horizontally as you could.

“Aren’t you funny! Fine then, I’ll go and leave you to your lonely self. But only if you give me a smile!” he chimes, now tugging up on the edges of your lips.

You jerk your head back, neutral face pristine. You go back to your knitting.

“Hey, don’t leave me hanging. One smile won’t kill ya, (Y/N)! Just for me?” he drags, batting his eyelashes.

“Tell me a joke.” you instruct, deciding entertaining a hope wouldn’t hurt.

“Uhh..." he ponders,"Heather’s life?”

“That’s rather insensitive.”

“Blah blah blah, okay, softy.” Chris snorts,“Cody once told me he tried working at a belt store, but had trouble making ends meet.”

“Cody has told me himself he has yet to work.” you objected with fact.

He starts groaning loudly in defeat.

You blink slowly at him,“If you are going to lie, husband, at least make it believable.”

“What’s the point?” the dramatic inquiry left his lips,“You see right through me. I  married a grandma!” his hands clutched onto his flawless hair out of frustration.

“I’m the younger one.”

“Younger body with an old soul." he taunts,"A really really really old wrinkly soul.”

“That makes me wiser then.”

“Or just really lame.” you knew him well enough to recognise that these insults were just an attempt to get a rise out of you.

“You still haven’t achieved your goal.”

“What’s the point! I’ve tried everything!” Chris whines.

“You have the rest of your life to do that.”

“Um, more like the rest of your life. I’m not dying before you!” he retorts.

“I think you will.” you claim coolly,“You’ve created more enemies than you have hair.” your face brought no justice to the sudden heart-sinking thought of Chris dying.

“Show biz, baby! Show biz!” but the slight tremor in his voice told you it terrified him too.

To distract yourself, your sight drives back to the yellow yarn ball in your hands, whispering to it,“Aren’t you so pretty...” before throwing it up in the air and catching it.

“Are you... Am I seeing this right?” his words were more appropriate for a father to his newborn rather a husband to his wife.

You weren't smiling then, but- “Yarn balls [were] cute,” enough to spawn one.

At first, your husband complains out of disbelief,“So it took an inanimate object to get you to crack? Seriously? You know what that means? You’re not a grandma... You’re feline! Yeah, that sounds wayyyy better! You were reincarnated from a cat weren’t you, (Y/N)?” he then lovingly wildly pats your head as you set the ball of yellow yawn down beside you on the couch,“Come on, you’ve gotta start purring for me!”

“But (Y/N) isn’t a grandma nor a cat.” you remind, standing to your feet.

“Just try!” impatience wired his tone.

“...Mm mm.” you decided as you picked him up. It was your way of making up for planting the likelihood of an early death in his mind.

Naturally his ego instinctively resorts to whining,“(Y/NNN), let me go! Put me down! Now!”

You put one arm under his legs and the other along his chest,“You know you like it. You’re smiling wider than I ever had.”

He couldn’t deny the safety he inevitably felt,“I am and I hate it! You’re making me feel trapped!��� your husband exclaims. In truth he enjoyed it, but he was too proud to make it obvious, even in private. He groans,“Okay okay! I uh promise, I’ll let you pick what we’re having for dinner tonight if you put me down! Put me down, put me dowwwwwwn!”

You kiss him on his neck,“Deal.” then set him down, making sure he was on his feet before retrieving your arms,“Perfect timing. I was craving fish today.”

"Fish again..." he groans once more as he turns to face you, attempting to fix his hair,“You ever get tired of that?”

You shake your head.

"Well I made the promise, so..." he sighs, the longer he silently observed how you continued to knit like the conversation never happened, the weaker his urge was to repress a smile,"Damn it, (Y/N). What am I gonna do with you?"

[love-toxin]

Retrieval - entry II

entry I

plot: forging on through the horrors you've endured thus far, you venture deeper into the plagas cult territory to find something waiting for you there. more than something--someone.

(cws: fem!reader, blood, body horror, gun violence, knives, mention of a car accident, hurt-comfort, wound tending, raccoon city flashbacks, passing mention of smut)

word count: 5.3k

Even if you did plan out a route on your map, you've quickly realized that the landscape has changed so dramatically in your time away that it likely wouldn't have made a difference. In no uncertain terms, you are completely and devastatingly lost.

By now, the afternoon sun has long started beating on you from overhead and the sprinkling of rain this morning has turned the air thick and uncomfortably muggy. Each step up the incline of the dirt path and by extension the shifting of your clothing is a constant reminder of how sweaty you are, your stretchy shirt damp and sticking to your chest while beads of sweat pour down your neck and cling to your eyelashes. Your gloves have had to come off and Leon's jacket would've followed if the alternative wasn't to carry it–but regardless of those small choices you just have to accept the discomfort and keep trudging forward. You've got no idea where you're headed now but you won't get anywhere by sitting around, and at least you can try to peek through the trees and rocky inclines that line the road to see if you can spot any discernible landmarks. While you still have the task of finding Leon, returning to the village is no longer an option after what you saw this morning.

A shudder runs through you merely at the thought of it, your mind fuzzy with the memories like your brain is trying to protect you from the sight of that massacre. And it's almost worse to ponder that act of senseless violence than it was to witness the aftermath of it, not just because you recognize that some of those bodies were villagers that you'd cut down yourself, but also because you can't envision what kind of monster would have spread out such an unholy image for you. None of the creatures you remember seeing would have the patience or planning to do such a thing, and if it had been the work of a particular monster you'd faced off with, you're certain that if they knew you were there they would've killed you outright instead of trying to–what? Scare you?

Your boot meets a rock and you absentmindedly kick it up, watching with a passive interest as it skitters and tumbles its way around the path before rolling to a stop in the grass beside it. Was it to scare you? Could it have been a fluke, and you'd just barely missed the rampage of a vicious and callous monster? Or was it the will of the Plagas that called them there, and either ended them from within or had them hack each other into oblivion? You've got a feeling you would've heard something if either of those things were the case, but then again your sleep had been….preoccupied.

You shift the straps of your bag to ease the weight from one shoulder to the other, your gaze fluttering from one end of the path to the other like the presence of someone else would somehow allow them to be privy to your thoughts. The intense sweating you've been doing for the last few hours has masked over that wetness between your legs that you've been dealing with, the two forces intermingling so you can't really distinguish one kind of dampness from the other. It certainly doesn't make it any less uncomfortable, and it's an unfortunately clear-headed reminder of the shame you often feel after having one of those dreams about Leon.

After all, he is–was–your best friend. You met before Raccoon City went to shit, you lived through it together, and you faced the same hardships that came after when the world around you wanted to forget the cruelty of that horrid night. You knew how to joke around and keep the air light, you could drag each other out of your depressive episodes when nobody else could reach you, and Leon knew every ugly bit and piece of your life just like you knew his. Your friendship had always been something precious and you could never imagine throwing that all away by admitting to him that you're in love with him. He had been the only person in the world that you knew cared about you, the only person that would go to the ends of the earth to defend you, and to lose that would be equal to a death. It's what's made this loss all the harder, feeling like you've lost him twice over and having to mourn it all alone. And the guilt hits you even more when those feelings bubble up inside you again, because all you want is for them to just go away so you can grieve Leon as what he was, not what you wanted him to be.

You're always tempted to think he'd see you as gross for imagining doing those things with him, to him, but in reality you know that if you ever told Leon he would get the biggest head about it. Feelings or no, he'd be so smug he'd tease you until the end of time and it would stroke his ego to the heavens and back–and whenever you think about it, it just brings a smile to your face on instinct. He could be such a bastard sometimes, but there's no better person you could've called your best friend. Which, of course, makes the pang in your heart hurt all the worse when you're reminded that he's gone, and that he took his last breath in a place like this.

Speaking of which, it dawns on your senses that something absolutely reeks. Granted, the whole village smells of shit and blood–but this smell is different, it's almost worse, and it's to the point that you almost feel the need to pull your shirt up over your nose to block out the invasive wretchedness of it all. It's somehow getting worse as you walk, which can only mean you're getting closer to the source of it–and if it wasn't obvious by now, it becomes obvious with the crack of an aging engine roaring up and the sound of tires scraping over dirt and gravel. Fuck.

The raspy chorus of voices reaches you over the crest of the hill, and within moments of you halting in your tracks the vehicle comes barreling into view. On two crooked axles your imminent death approaches in the form of a truck gunning down the hill at top speed, two Ganados in the seats while God knows how many more growl and shout from the back and behind, brandishing their tools like weapons and vying for your blood.

It only takes seconds for your choices to dawn on you, but even that time isn't generous enough to give you much chance for a successful retreat. With two steps back you finally feel the panic whack you in the chest, but it powers your legs before you can think to move them and soon enough you're sprinting back the way you came. Your feet feel too light to control on the slope but you can't just stop, the heat of the engine is already at your back and if you hesitate, you know you're dead.

Fishing down the opening of your top, your fingers jab the secret pouch you sewed in there and two bullets come back out in your palm, warm steel forcing a calmness into your frayed nerves as you frantically load them into your gun. Those bullets are for emergencies, and you've encountered worse outcomes than this, but dying here would mean failure and there wouldn't be anyone left to try and bring you back to life this time.

You throw your arm back behind you to shoot, and everything flashes a bright, hot light to blot out the world–and then, just as swiftly, it all goes black as the ground falls out beneath you, pain shoots up your spine, and your eyes finally snap shut into total darkness as flame engulfs you.

"Officer! Wake up, officer!"

You haven't been called that in a while, but it still feels familiar–the voice, however, is different. There's only a distant wisp of something you recognize as you struggle to open your eyes.

"S'okay, I'm fine-" Your mumbling rings soft and faint over the crackling of fire and rain, barely audible–but the soon-to-be familiar face shakes his head and huffs a sigh as he pulls you back up to sit straight.

"You are not fine, officer. You're bleeding."

You see now what the situation is, your vision coming back into focus as Leon's warm hands steady you against the alley wall. Your memory's still fuzzy, but the pain shooting up and down your left leg is all you need to remind you of what just happened.

You'd been running down the street, escaping from a herd of the zombies with a bag slung over your back–the artillery from the station had been spread out all over the city and the medical supplies had run dry, so for almost half a day you'd been gone from the station to scout for supplies and redirect survivors towards the safehouses you and your fellow officers had staked out. One of them being the station itself, which had just come into view after you'd skidded around the nearest street corner and spotted those bright lights illuminating the front gate.

But after that, your recollection gets a little fuzzy. You'd heard a screeching sound on your left from behind, felt the tremor of something shaking the ground as several pairs of rotted hands reached for you from over your shoulder…and from there everything is a complete blur. A flash and a wave of heat had rushed over you, the blaring of a horn sounding from behind, and you vaguely recall the ground falling out from beneath you–although, based on the stiff soreness of your back, you suspect the impact of the truck that had hit you had sent you flying and you somehow wound up in this alley, or close to it. You've got a pretty good feeling you didn't just end up sitting back against it with your head propped up, else you've got the devil's luck for certain.

"Leon," You rasp, your throat dry and cracked from the heat and your laboured breathing. With that worried expression painted clear on his youthful face, he holds up a bottle of water to your lips–and you drink gratefully, feeling refreshed even by the wasted droplets dribbling down your chin as you struggle to swallow. "You can call me by my name, y'know–unless you don't remember, in which case my feelings are a–nngh, shit–little hurt." You cringe at the feeling of cloth scraping over your open wounds, nails digging into your other leg as Leon grazes the gash on your opposite thigh with a bit of medicine in hand. It's deep, you can tell that much, and if this were a movie you're morbidly certain that this would be the moment your partner has to put you down before you turn. Maybe you're already getting there, if the feverish heat crawling up your chest is any indication.

You shift your gaze over to the lump beside you, and find that your hand has been resting on the same bag you'd risked hide and hair for. It's half unzipped and looks like it's been rummaged through. It dawns on you that the water, gauze, and other medical supplies he's got rolled out are all part of the stash–and how embarrassing is that? You made so many promises to Marvin and the others that you would come back with hope in your arms, and yet you're the one using what you brought before you've even returned. Clipped by a fucking truck of all things. Yet, when Leon rolls your name off of his tongue with the ease of someone that's said it a thousand times before, your heart flutters and calms all at the same time.

"You're pretty relaxed for someone that just got hit by a car." He reaches out to squeeze your hand, and does so even tighter as he presses an alcohol-soaked pad into your jagged, bloody flesh. It stings like shit immediately and rips a string of curses out of you, but it's a necessary evil, so you just grit your teeth and bear it to try and make it easier for Leon to work. Being a newbie, you figured he would freak out…and yet, somehow, he's even calmer than you and he's doing a damn good job of keeping you distracted for him to tend your wounds.

"Truck, excuse you. Get your facts straight, rookie. Sounds cooler if you call it a truck-" Your half-joking reply is cut short as a sharp cry erupts out of you without warning. Burning pain shoots through your leg, tears immediately welling in your eyes and speeding down your cheeks as the searing sensation overwhelms almost every other sense. Your body jolts with it and Leon's hand comes down firmly on your thigh to keep you still, his other hand pressing warmth into your wound over the cloth he's smeared some herbs into. When the agony eventually starts draining out of you, it takes your strength with it and leaves you slumped back against the wall, lungs tight and burning from you panting and gasping for breath. With another wave soon to come and several more to follow, you have nowhere else to brace yourself but on Leon's shoulder, which you grab hard and squeeze tight as he works the medicine in and goes through the painfully considerate process of disinfecting the wound and bandaging it tight with a tourniquet to stop the bleeding.

"Anything in there?" You finally manage to pant out, forehead dripping with sweat that he takes care to wipe with the other side of the cloth.

"No, don't think so."

"Thank fuck. I'd rather die than yank it out. You're a lifesaver, Lee." You're trying not to whimper as you speak, you don't want to come off as weak, but Leon really doesn't look like he minds nor that he's gonna use it against you in the future. His concern is written plainly on his face, thumbs gentle but firm as he wipes your tears like a brother would do for his younger sister. Or a friend for a friend. A partner for a partner.

"...Lee?" He murmurs, repeating the nickname for you both in a teasing way and a surprised one. You've only met a handful of times, haven't even gotten to know each other aside from the general pleasantries–but he seems happy. Relieved, really, that you don't mind his help or his company.

"You prefer 'rookie'?" You huff right back, anticipating a bit of sass or a rebuttal in some way. But he just shakes his head, seemingly unperturbed as he starts briskly packing the medicine back into your bag as the rain patters against it.

"No, no, just…I've never had a nickname before. Call me whatever you like." He speaks with a smile on his face and it would be irritating, if not for how sincere his words are and how much joy he clearly gets from the smallest gesture. As much as you'd like to dwell on it and humour him with a dozen questions, the zzzzip of your bag beside you and the shuffling as he lifts it up and pulls it snug over his shoulder brings you back to reality. Your very, very unfortunate reality, if the groaning and gnashing sounds in the distance are any indication.

"I hate to say it, but there's no way you're walking on this leg." He says that so ominously but his baby face really isn't doing him any favours, and you're not one to just back away when something needs to get done. So, despite his advice, you grip the wall behind you and stagger to get to your feet, bracing yourself against the warm brick as you hiss in pain and raise yourself unsteadily on only one leg–which, of course, has Leon holding out his hands to steady you as you do, exasperation passing over his features as you make no effort to use him to stabilize yourself.

"Hey! What did I just say?" Leon clicks his tongue like a mother hen, but doesn't leave you high and dry at all. He grabs the arm on your bad side and manhandles you into pulling it over his shoulders, his strength and the hand bracing your opposite hip giving you a very inconvenient shiver. Focus. "You're so stubborn."

"I'm not just sitting out here to die."

"I didn't say that. Here," With one step forward, it's clear that you're not gonna move fast enough to make it to the station unscathed. In a case like this, you'd expect to be left here while the more able-bodied of the two of you goes ahead with the medicine and sends backup when he can–but obviously that isn't quite what Leon has in mind. Instead, he bends down to slide his arm up behind your knees, counts down from two, and sweeps your legs out from beneath you with a careful swiftness to lift you up in a bridal carry. "It's okay, I got you." It's embarrassing and humbling all at once, a squeak smothering itself behind your teeth as you immediately cling to him with your arms around his shoulders. But he doesn't seem at all fazed, and doesn't even stumble as he starts walking towards the edge of the alley. If anything, he walks with more balance while he's carrying both you and your precious cargo to safety. "I'm not just gonna leave you behind."

Leon's got more integrity with one day of the force under his belt than most officers you've known. He's a blessing and an anomaly all at once, precious and potent like both an antidote and a poison mixed as one. But however unclear your feelings about him were that night, you know for certain that you would've died cold and alone in that alley if not for him. He rescued you without any inkling as to what he would get out of it–and even if it kills you, you're going to repay that favour by rescuing him.

"Well hello, miss stranger."

Your eyes flutter open, the ceiling of a room the first thing to meet your gaze–and the second being a man hunching over a table opposite from you, your head turned so far you nearly stumble off the makeshift cot you've been laid out on. "Had a nice nap? Figured as much–you took quite the nasty hit to the skull. Lucky you're still breathing!" He cackles jubilantly, and if nothing else that raspy laugh is what clues you in to that small shred of remembrance.

"Merchant? Wh…What are you…?" You shake your head in disbelief, a soft 'nevermind' passing your lips as you just elect to take this all in at face value. You never understood this 'Merchant' guy when you were here before, so you can't expect to pick him apart for answers now. With measured steps you approach his counter and try to shake off your limp in the process, your eyes scanning over the crowded shelves of his wares–and the inner pockets of his coat that he flashes open to take you by surprise.

"Uh…you got anything for my pistol?"

The Merchant chuckles heartily, and out comes several boxes of the convenient ammunition from beneath his rickety little table. With what little you've got to trade that you spread out on his counter, you can get about two boxes with twenty bullets each for most of what you're carrying. The money for airfare, a cab to the station, and some light supplies you picked up once you landed in Spain has cleaned you out pretty good, but he's fair as always and even offers to clean your gun for you while he's at it.

"Ooh, before you wander off–I've got somethin' extra for you, missy."

With a flourish befitting....him, he pulls out a decently sized piece of equipment out from a box behind him, and turns to lay the shotgun flat across your hands, the weight sinking into your palms as his half-gloved fingers retreat and he lets you get a feel for it. It's pretty hefty on its own, polished and substantial with a trigger that's got the kind of resistance you're used to. With a gesture from him to encourage trying it out, you take a decent step back from his table and lift the gun up into the crook of your arm, eyes lining down the length of it towards a very convenient lantern propped up on top of the crumbling stone wall opposite to you.

One cock of the shutter, a breath in–and a bang erupts from the courtyard, the lantern shattering into a thousand pieces and the Merchant's raspy laughter rising like the flock of crows that take flight from further into the castle grounds, cawing like mad at the sound that echoes like thunder throughout the canyon.

"She's a beaut, ain't she?" The hunched man chortles, clearly prideful of his work. You lower the gun back down to your hip, the smell of ashy powder filling your nose, and nod quietly before turning back to him and holding it out over his counter.

"It's great, but you've got all I had. Maybe I'll come back for it."

"Naw, missy–you keep that. S'on the house this time." Your brows raise in shock and a touch of confusion, along with a little seed of distrust that you can't help but entertain. You know better than to trust people blindly, especially strangers, but then again the Merchant doesn't exactly conform to any expectations you could've had. At your hopeful confirmation of "really?" he nods your way, the bandana that covers his face slipping a bit as he tilts his head forward and reaches behind him.

"While you're at it, have this too–not gonna be much use to me, I'm afraid." With a flourish, he unveils a sheath he'd been hiding only god knows where and sets it down in front of you. From just one glance as you strap your new shotgun to your back, a glimmer of recognition wells up inside you and your hands find the hilt in a matter of seconds. Raising it to your face, you gently tug on the handle to slide the blade all the way out….and sure enough, you do recognize it. The engraving on the side is about as familiar as your own handwriting considering how often you've been on the sharp end of this knife–a product of endless close-combat training sessions that your best friend insisted on practicing with you. It hits you right then–Leon would've died before he let go of this precious thing.

"Where did you find this? Here?"

"Just up the stairs there," He jerks his thumb back towards the entryway behind him, hazy memories of that winding path coming together in your mind as you recall going down it before. "Picked it up from a bloody puddle in the main hall. Return it to your friend, would ya? He's my best customer." You can feel his grin from behind the mask, and a pang hits your heart as you consider breaking the news to him….but the adrenaline is kicking in now and you just have to go, you have to briskly bid him goodbye and excuse your hurry as you rush out towards the stairs and mount each set in record time as you make a mad dash for the foyer.

By sheer luck, your frantic sprint through the winding courtyard betrays no hint of activity since you were here last. The cannon still sits perched at the top of the tower for a raven to crow atop it, and while the stairs are littered with bits of crumbling rubble they're still relatively easy to climb as you come out on the other side, mere feet of space separating you from the smashed-open gate you'd both fought so hard to get into. Down the looming path overshadowed by two huge, towering walls on either side, you hurry up the last few steps and brace both hands on the heavy doors, grunts of effort foregrounding the scrape and rusty squealing of the hinges as you slowly push them open to reveal the place Merchant had directed you towards.

"Hngh-!" With one last shove, you swing them out slowly and step back to catch your breath, before clambering through the entrance and slowing your run to a jog and then to a stop, eyes roaming in wide sweeps around the massive entrance room to look for some kind of clue. It's just as misty around the floor as it was before and the lights fortunately haven't gone out, yet the suits of armour, vases, side tables and weapons scattered everywhere don't alert you to anything immediately out of place. You do find yourself plucking a chunk of loose stone off the ground and slinging it at the nearest knight, however, just to watch as the plates of silver armour clatter with a hollow sound before crashing into a heap on the floor. It's better to be safe than sorry considering what you and Ashley went through last time with those things.

In doing so, and in stepping over to kick aside the helmet with a bit of indulgent violence, something catches in your eye in your peripheral. With a glance, you spot a few dribbles of otherwise un-noteworthy blood and slot your gun out of its holster just in case. But when you kneel down to check it out and wave a bit of the mist away, your eyes widen in disbelief as you see the speckles of blood lead toward a puddle–and beyond that, a trail that guides your line of sight all the way towards the set of doors leading to the inner sanctum.

Is this Leon's?

You shuffle quietly towards the pool of it a bit further away, realizing only upon getting closer how big it really is. Aside from the puddle itself there are smears drawn through it and radiating out to paint the unmarred floor, as if someone had either stepped through it and slipped or had sat down completely and let themselves bleed freely where they lay. Based on the trail, it resembles the evidence of an attack, an injury or death, and then the person being dragged off towards a second location. But no matter how weak he might have been, you just can't picture Leon being hurt like this and not fighting back, not winning in general, because when you pull out the knife and hold it over the puddle you can clearly see the spot it had been lying in when Merchant had picked it up.

There's only one other option you can think of, though, which is somehow more gruesome than the thought of your best friend being stabbed and his body being dragged away to be disposed of…

…Did he try to cut the parasite out of his body?

The scene in front of you paints a horribly gruesome picture with that idea in your mind. Did Leon sit here, bloody and injured from the explosion, and attempt to cut the Plagas out from his body? If he did, did he succeed? Or did he simply put himself through more torture before he met his inhuman end, and was dragged off by some other force to be used for more of their sick rituals? Following the trail of blood where it leads is your only option, but it is an option, which is something you've slowly started believing you weren't going to find after all.

"Leon!"

You call out his name as you get back up to your feet, your voice ringing through the hall in haunting echoes. It doesn't matter if you draw whatever's hiding out into the open. At least you'll know what's waiting around the corner to strike–and in the case that Leon hears you, you want him to know that you tried. You're trying. You want him to realize you want to find him, you're thinking about him, you care for him and that you didn't leave him behind just to forget about him. You're here now and you'll do anything if it means getting him back.

"Leon, I'm here!"

The next set of doors part somewhat easier than the ones that lead outside, your shoulder more than enough for you to push through and slip into the next room to track the trails left behind. Your legs stall once you've wound through the interconnected room between and laid your hand on one of those huge doors around the corner–you know exactly what could be waiting there, and what you'd had to deal with last time–but it just isn't enough to stop you, even though it should. You push through it and take a step into the long, massive room that stretches out into many key areas for an ambush, and breathe a sigh of relief at the sight of the wheels still in place and the staircase already lowered. Perhaps you have been lucky and nothing else has really changed aside from Leon's presence, but that still doesn't allow you to give yourself pause as you hurry up the steps and hop over the pedestals with your gun drawn. The blackened, muddy water doesn't scare you, nor do the half-ajar doors up on the catwalks that could burst open and spill out with bloodthirsty cult zombies. The trail Leon's left for you is getting thinner and sparser, however, and that does worry you as you approach the next set of doors and take them each in stride.

You can't lie to yourself, your hope is dwindling just as quickly as it came on. Only splatters and splotches of the trail remain and nothing else has alerted you of his presence yet–no notes, no scraps of fabric torn off his clothes, not even a hair in sight for you to inspect and try to determine whether or not it's Leon's. Maybe it was just a stray dog or a wolf after all. Maybe you really are grasping at straws.

"No. He's here. Don't give up yet." You whisper under your breath to yourself, praying in the very back of your mind that the self-reassurance is enough to keep your feet moving as you head in the direction of the courtyard. You just keep repeating it in your mind. He's here. He's here. Leon's gotta be here. I know he's here. I'll find him. Your inner voice grows so strong as you walk through the chilly air of the night that you really start to feel that way, to the point that it feels like Leon's eyes are piercing into you.

In fact, it really feels like you're being watched when you start thinking about it. It's probably just paranoia, and understandably so considering this place's gruesome past. Your knuckles brush over the handle of Leon's knife at your hip out of habit, but even with that thought in mind you still stop in your tracks right at the gate into the courtyard.

You swear you just heard a cough. It couldn't be. Monsters don't cough. Not like that.

The blade slings out of its sheath with a shiiing that could cut the air itself, and your fingertips are just barely brushing the grip as it flies in an arc out of your grasp–that's the moment you get a glimpse of the person standing behind you, and your breath chokes itself out of your mouth as the tip of that bloodied blade meets their throat.

You could've anticipated almost anything…but not this. Anything but what's standing before you, staring you down with eyes that could burn you down into ashes and blow you away in the breeze.