#i want to get them something as soon as possible

[sakuravalenp]

Time with the family was great. Danny got well enough with everyone and survived the family interrogation with full stars. Which Jason felt wasn't a fair thing to do for Danny when this was an arranged marriage, and Danny had as much choice to be here as Jason had. Which was the reason why Jason wanted to make this into something real as soon as possible. He liked Danny; he didn't want Danny to be trapped with him just for obligation. 

So the first step was getting Danny out of the interrogation dining room, and get some time alone with him. Danny's sigh of relief when they made it to the gardens, let him know that it was the right decision. 

"I'm sorry about my family, they can be a lot sometimes."

"It's fine, they're just looking out for you."

"It still doesn't mean it's right for them to push you that way.”

Danny chuckles. “Guess I won’t have to worry about my husband taking his family’s side every time.”

“Of course not, I believe that the spouse should always be the priority.”

Danny gives him a small smile, and then takes a look around as if checking if they were really alone.

“So, have you thought about who you want to invite to the other wedding?”

“The other… wedding?” 

“Yeah, the spectral one? Clockwork wants to know which humans are assisting since, you know, they need special accommodations there.”

“Clockwork?”

“Oh yeah, he’s taking the lead in organizing the whole event. It’s crazy right? I didn’t know he was into organizing that sort of thing!”

“Okay, pause, stop, I feel like I’m missing some vital information here. What are you talking about?”

Danny looked at him confused, and cocked his head to the side in such a cute way- no that's not important right now.

“The spectral wedding? The one we need to have this officialized as denizens?”

“Denizens.” Jason feels they’re not even talking in the same language anymore.

“Yeah? You don’t-...” Danny’s eyes widened, “You don’t know!? How do you not know!?”

Alfred: I am afraid I have some bad news. Earlier today, I received a notice that the arranged marriage between Master Bruce and Lady Madeline had not been voided like Master Thomas had once hoped. Bruce: Wait I was in a arriage marriage? Alfred ignored Bruce: There was an error in the process, and his engagement was passed to the next generation. Now that Mrs.Fenton's children are of age, one must wed into the Waynes, or the Waynes' assets are turned over to the Fentons. Bruce: WHAT?! Alfred: I understand that none of you would commit so I took the liberity of rolling a muilti-faced dice. Congratulations Master Jason, your fience, Mister Fetnon will arrive tomarrow. Jason :HUH!? BUT I'M LEGALLY DEAD! Alfred: Yes, which is why Mister Fenton accepted, believing he wouldn't have to commit. What a surprise this will be for him. Tim: Thanks for taking one for the team, Jay. Dick: Yeah, the rest of us nepo-babbies appreciate it. Damian: We shall forever remember this bravery and sacrifice.

[im-so-tired-sorry]

“what was your approach to handling such a chaotic villian?” the interviewer asked.

“he wasn’t difficult to detain. his mannerisms were sporadic but he just needed a rough hand to calm him down.” pro hero dynamite was pulled aside after capturing a villian for a quick post-fight interview. the area had been closed off and his media team had previously advised him to participate in more interviews to gain public reaction and support. though he was more reserved and preferred focusing more on hero work than the media aspect of the job, he reluctantly agreed. his team acknowledged his distain for being involved in the media so they advised that he come off as neutral-tone as possible. it was the only way for him to tolerate the “annoying” interview while giving a decent impression. it was a bonus that he was more than camera ready since the fight didn’t even make him break a sweat.

“did you find what his objective was?”

“something about his lack of control in his life and how he never felt seen or hear-“ he had noticed throughout the interview that some of the camera crew were giggling at something behind him. it only caused him to pause mid sentence when the reporter asking him these questions began to be distracted as well.

he scolded at the crew before swiftly turning his head to see what was so damn funny.

all he saw was you and kiri red riot jumping around, on the other side of the street making absolute fools of yourselves as you try to add a comedic factor to the #2 hero’s interview. the crew expected a roll of the eyes and an annoyed scoff from dynamite, but the reaction they did receive was one they knew would get the broadcast attraction and views.

the members behind the camera widened their eyes as dynamite chuckled. a genuine laugh paired with a smile that fans online would post about later that evening, talking about the possibility of a secret charm under the pro hero’s rough exterior.

he looked back to the pair of you again, before quickly turning around and committing a full-speed sprint towards you. he only had to run halfway across the street before you and red riot panicked when you processed you were being chased and quickly turned to head back to where you two were supposed to be. the camera followed you two until you both turned to look back at dynamite with teasing smiles , and when the camera returned to the hero walking back to his place, it caught him putting his hand down after flipping you off.

standing back for the interview, his demeanor was more calm. still tense from his spontaneous run, but his eyes and shoulders were more relaxed. that didn’t change the fact that as soon as he continued to finish his interrupted answer, his tough attitude returned.

“how have you felt the last couple weeks after revealing your engagement to both of the heroes that stood behind you just then? do you think coming out with your relationship dynamic has affected you in any way related to your work?”

the boldness of the question stunned him to a impulsive response, “my personal life has nothing to do with who i am as a hero. i-“ katsuki thinks for a moment. a quick second. he continues in a calmer tone.

“my personal life has no affect on what i do physically. i am still watching the streets and saving lives because that’s what i have to do. it’s my responsibility. but the reason why i do it has recently changed. it’s not just cause i want to be the best. i have two lives that i am now dedicated to protecting and i will stop at nothing to make sure that the streets that i walk home with them on are safe.”

that clip was trending for weeks.

[dollychou]

CANDIED PANTIES

𝓈ummary ʚଓ you help barou let out some pent up feelings and find out he might have a dirty little secret.

𝒸ontent ʚଓ smut! panty kink.

the past few weeks had been an extremely tiring one for barou — the arduous training paired with the routine he had set for himself and stuck to religiously — he felt he was reaching his breaking point. all the mental and physical stress had him obsessively cleaning and barking orders at his other teammates — even more so than before.

today, by some miracle, ego had granted them a day off and barou felt himself feel ecstatic for the first time in days. he knew exactly how he was going to be spending his time off and that was with you, his sweet little girlfriend. you had told him you had something in store for him and he grew curiouser and curiouser the closer he got to your place.

you swing your door open and immediately pull him inside, wrapping your arms around his neck. it catches him off guard for a second but as soon as he feels your warmth against his, he bring his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. "hey you," he speaks, the soft tone a one he uses only with you. "missed me hm?"

"very much," you mumble into his neck as you press light kisses on it, trailing it up to capture your lips in his.

he hums delightfully, your lips feeling like pure bliss. he pulls away, resting his forehead on yours as he says, "now what's this surprise you say you got for me, pretty?"

you don an almost mischievous smile as you say, "i need to take you to the bedroom for that."

he smirks, running his hands up and down your sides before coming down to squeeze the plush of your ass. "that kinda surprise, huh?," he says, trying to act as nonchalant as possible. but with the growing tent in his sweats brushing against your thighs — you know otherwise.

in one swift motion, he's scooping you up, your legs circling around his waist. he walks you to your bedroom, gently placing you down on the bed as he looms over you. "when you gonna show me the surprise?," he asks, fiddling with the waistband of your shorts.

"eager, are we?," you tease, combing through his hair. it's not in its usual spiked up do, his long hair falling down and framing his face so handsomely. "all you gotta do is take off my clothes and you'll see."

his dick practically jumps in his boxers. he nearly tears your top off of him and his pupils are blown with pure lust and desire.

you're wearing the sweetest and cutest beige lingerie set — lace is sewn on the cups, giving it this dainty look. as he pulls down your shorts, he sees the matching panties you're wearing with it — the same beige colour with a little heart homed in the centre.

"what do you think?"

he lets out a deep moan in response, his eyes scanning your pretty body. you close your legs, feeling embarrassed by his intense gaze but he pries them open, situating himself in between your legs. his tongue licks you through the fabric of the panties, a little quiet mewl coming from your lips.

"always so good f'me," he mumbles more so to himself as he licks more strips on your panties. "fuckkk~ baby, you taste so good."

your face flushes as you comb your fingers through his hair. his fingers push aside your panties, your bare cunt now right in his face. he wants to hold himself back — he so badly wants to — but he just can't.

his mouth dives into your sopping folds, tongue licking hellishly quick against your clit, making you scream out. "oh my god!," you cry, tugging on his hair. he's relentless, flicking his tongue all over you, the filthy noises of his spit and your wet pussy filling the room.

your legs squish the sides of his head but he forces you to keep them open as he continues his devilish assault on your poor cunt. he sticks his tongue into you, fucking you with it, getting an even better taste of your sweet juices. your back arches from the sheer pleasure you're feeling, your hips instinctively grinding on his mouth.

he pulls away, his lips slick and shiny with your arousal. you whine at the loss of his mouth on you but you shut up in a second as he pulls his sweats and boxers down. his hard, long dick springs out, slapping against his toned abdomen. he hooks his arms under your thighs, bringing you to the edge of the bed where he stood.

he eyes the panties you're wearing, seemingly fixated on how adorable and sweet they look on you. he removes them off you and stares at the piece of lingerie for a moment before taking a small whiff of it. your face turns a bright pink, feeling incredibly flustered. "baby," you mumble. "what are you doing?"

"shit, sorry baby," he growls. "i just... fuck... these panties are driving me wild. and you smell and taste sooo good."

as he lines the tip of his cock with your entrance, he shoves your panties into his mouth. before you can even protest or say anything, he shoves his cock into you, making you gasp harshly. he begins thrusting — hard — into your tight, warm pussy. the way your syrupy walls are fluttering around him; the way your juices are coating his shaft; the way his dick is slapping against your pussy — he feels himself going wild.

and with your panties in his mouth, being able to taste even just a teensy bit of your arousal as he rams himself into you is maddening. his hips keep snapping into you in a frenzy, completely captivated by how you taste and how you sound and how you feel for him.

his hands dig into your hips, keeping your writhing body in place as his tip kisses your cervix. "hngh — 's so good," you whimper, gazing at him with an almost drunken look on your face. "fuck me — hic — fuck me, keep fucking me."

that sends him over the edge, thrusting himself deeper and faster into your weeping cunt. he looks down and sees the lines of slick that connect his hairs with yours and he lets out a deep, guttural groan, sucking on your panties that is still in his mouth. you're writhing beneath him, moaning and screaming loud enough for everyone outside to hear. but you can't help yourself with how fucked out you're feeling and how damn sexy barou looks with your lacy little panties clamped between his teeth.

"'m gonna cum," you whine loudly, gripping the bedsheets. he simply nods, feeling his own release approaching. with a couple more thrusts, you come undone, walls clenching around his shaft, milking him dry for what he's worth. he pulls out, spurting out ribbons of cum, tainting your lower abdomen.

his chest rises and falls, trying to catch his breath for a few moments. he takes out the piece of lingerie from his mouth and goes to shove it in the pocket of his sweats. "pervert," you giggle, lifting yourself up to rest on your elbows.

barou leans in, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear while he presses a delicate, loving kiss to your temple. "i'm gonna need it whenever i'm feeling... pent up," he smirks, peppering a few more kisses across your face. "now let's get cleaned up hm?"

© all works belong to dollychou. do not copy, repost, or translate my works.

[cloudcountry]

*shaking* Auburn! auburn we need some platonic BFF headcanons! Im craving! you can literally pick whoever you want or randomise it

SUMMARY: being best friends with tohma, luca, zenji, and lyca.

COMMENTS: i loved writing these because i have very very Large platonic feelings for these characters. like i love them so much theyre my everything.

TAGLIST: @as1iiiwhaa @astralsocfactory

Being Tohma’s best friend means being able to keep secrets. He won’t tell you everything he’s up to, but you will hear more than most, and you need to be able to keep that under wraps. Trust that everything he does is for your sake.

If you happen to have any medications that you need to take, he will set reminders in his phone to make sure he texts you about it. This will happen more and more depending on how forgetful you are.

Tohma is a very caring best friend, actually. I know most people see him as the type to do his own thing, but I don’t see him that way at all. You need space, he’s giving it. You want to talk, he’ll give you all of his attention.

Heaven forbid you’re in danger. He’ll jump to your defense faster than you can blink, uncaring if he gets hurt in the process or not. You can yell at him all you want, he’ll still do it again. You’re precious to him, and he needs to protect that.

Speaking of protectors, Luca is just like Tohma in that regard. He’s more likely to get lost in it though, stabbing the anomaly over and over and over until it’s a pile of bloody gore on the ground if it tries to hurt you.

If anything, he views himself as your older brother. It doesn’t matter if you’re older than him or not, you’re his sibling figure now, and he needs to protect you in the ways he wasn’t able to protect his brother.

Be prepared to be spoiled rotten despite your protests. It’s partly because he cares about you and partly because Luca just really doesn’t understand normal price ranges for gifts...you’re gonna have to take him to a convenience store or something.

He’s the type of friend to call you good morning and goodnight if you’re far apart from each other. Even better if the two of you can do group calls with Kaito, since he and Luca are pretty much a package deal at this point...

Being Zenji’s best friend means sitting in with Haku when he films the music and stories Zenji creates. It means getting a front row seat to all of his absolute genius, and you’d better praise him just as much as he praises you!

It may be alarming for some of Hotarubi’s students to hear your voice and the rumored haunted biwa / doll just chilling on the docks. It’s alright though, you’d much rather have Zenji know that you’re unashamed of being around him than keep up your reputation with general students.

Be prepared to have songs composed about you and characters based on you. When you’re close to Zenji, he won’t hesitate to scold you if you’ve done something he thinks is bizarre (ahem ahem, like something Haku would do, for example) but he does adore you to bits and pieces, even the more scandalous parts!

Easily one of the best people to go to for love advice. He’ll never judge you for your taste in partners and will encourage you to confess to them as soon as possible!! He wants nothing more than to see you happy. <3

Being Lyca’s best friend means being on the same level as Subaru. I hope you’re ready to take on that responsibility—people will begin to avoid you because of your connection to him, and you need to be someone who is ready to defend him.

As you would expect, being so close to Lyca will get you closer to Subaru as well. He really appreciates everything you do in looking out for him, like during the mission Professor Moby sent them on when the staff cut his cheek...he heard all about the earful you gave them.

Honestly, Lyca won’t really understand why you get so emotional over him. He understands getting angry, but if you’re the type to cry when you’re pissed he’ll be confused. He’s doing his best, though—Lyca will hold you until you calm down. It works for him, so it must work for you, right?

While he eats, Lyca gets a little overzealous, so you’ll have to clean up his face more often than not! He doesn’t mind it so much after a while, and will eventually get to the point where he presents his face to you after he’s finished a meal. All you had to do was tell him that it’s not condescending, and that this is just how people care for each other.

[mjldx7]

Jiuyuan Idea!

...

The Warm Red Pavilion always smelled of incense, the smell was overwhelming. Shen Jiu hated it. But he would deal with it, it sorta helped when everything else in his head was overwhelming him as well. One big thing to cancel out all of the small thought adding up...

It didn't help he hasn't gotten the chance to sleep in over a month. Being a cultivator, yeah he could still live with it, but his whole body ached, he was tired. Qi-ge, no, Yue Qingyuan kept bothering him. Apologies, 'Xiao-Jiu. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'M sorry, I'M SORRY, I'M SORRY! I'M SO SORRY XIAO-JIU!'

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU SORRY FOR!? LEAVING ME IN HELL, NOT COMING BACK FOR ME, LETTING ME DIE AT HIS HANDS!?! WHY QI-GE, WHY-"

How he wished he could say that to Yue Qingyuan, he wished he could bash that idiots brains in for leaving him there to die. For just apologizing without truth or reason behind it. He just wanted an answer-

"I'm so sorry A-Jiu but... all of the girls have been booked out for the night."

What? Why, the one time he was able to come? Why did this have to happen!?

He sighed, he knew it wasn't thier faults if all these disgusting men- the word made him roll his eyes internally. "Are you sure Madam Yu, what about Su-Jiejie, or Xin-Jiejie. Are either of them booked tonight?" They couldn't be, they were high ranking, anyone who wanted to spend a night with then even just to play a simple game of go would go broke for the next decade. Surely they wouldn't be-

"I'm afraid them too A-Jiu, a few rich merchants stopped by the Pavilion tonight and booked out most of the girls including them. We still have a few male courtesan but..."

"Absolutely not"

"A-Jiu, I know you don't feel comfortable--" Ha... if only that was the whole story. "But they would never do anything to you. Please, at least try, Mingshan was so concerned after last time. Maybe this could be good for you!"

Last time he had decided to go to the Warm Red Pavilion, some drunk had tried touching him while he was having tea with Lan Yuqin in the main room. He felt filthy after, his guard was down because he thought he was safe when he was surrounded by people he trusted but no. Of course not. He felt sick after all of it and Mingshan, one of the newer courtesans who he had recently become close with, had seen him getting sick in his room with Lan Yuqin and Su Jinmao there.

"What about A-Yuan, he's-"

"Madam Yu I would rather not go all the way to the Lotus Pavilion near Hua Huan just to see A-Yuan"

A-Yuan was a mystery, Shen Jiu hated him... but he was still safe. Unlike every other men Shen Jiu had ever met, A-Yuan felt safe. He would talk on and on about the dumbest of things, but Shen Jiu could never get mad at him for it. He was too kind, too innocent and naive. He even looked at Shen Jiu as if he meant something, even knowing who he was.

Madam Yu and the girls knew about A-Yuan of course, he had told them about him after his first time at the Lotus Pavilion. He had... fallen asleep with A-Yuan in the small room he had been given at the Lotus Pavilion. It scared him, but he was warm upon waking up. Something he didn't think was possible anymore near a man.

Shen Yuan was a mystery, and Shen Jiu almost didn't want to find out just what he was hiding anytime he was in Hua Huan' territory near the Lotus Pavilion. If not just for one more chance to feel safe around one man who seemed to truly care for him if nothing else.

"-that was changed, A-Jiu. He was bought off-"

Right, he had tuned Madam Yu out... 'He was bought off', what? Is she talking about A-Yuan, where was he then? Did his contract get paid for by some rich man or-

"--A-Yuan is supposed to be done playing a game of go with a client in the main room soon if-"

"He's here!?"

Oops, bit too loud...

A couple drunk heads turned towards the front desk where Shen Jiu and Madam Yu was standing, along with a few of the newer courtesans who were playing games with clients.

"Were you not listening to anything I was saying boy!?" Madam Yu exclaimed before sighing. "We had a courtesan exchange between a couple of the nearby brothels, one of those including the Lotus Pavilion. A-Yuan was one of the courtesan that transferred here for the exchange."

Well that was... shocking. A-Yuan was pretty high ranking even at the Lotus Pavilion, what did they have to trade here for him to be moved here?

"I see, then, may I spend the night here with him after he is done with his client?" At least he could still sleep tonight...

"Yeah, yeah, silly boy. Just go find him in the main room and after he is done you can head to your normal room" Madam Yu sighed again before waving Shen Jiu off, not even seeming to remember to charge him for the night. Oh well, he will drop off the money in the morning, after he is able to sleep.

...

"Oh hell no! You absolutely cheated-"

"Hey pretty lady~ surely you-"

"Good game-"

"Hey! Where is the alcohol!?-"

The main room was too loud, to crowded. Shen Jiu hated when it was this busy. He's too tired now, he just wants to find A-Yuan and sleep.

"-You did amazing in that game! I'm impressed-"

A-Yuan, that was his voice. Where-

Shen Jiu saw Shen Yuan near the stage. Cleaning up a go board while a drunk, greasy looking client sat across from him. The Lotus Pavilion always had thier courtesans wear purple or pink, as the name. The Warm Red Pavilion had no such rules.

Maybe the reason Shen Jiu always felt so comfortable around A-Yuan was because his voice was a lot softer, more like a woman's. Or how the pink robes he nornally had on made him more feminine. He had always used that excuse as to why A-Yuan felt safe.

A-Yuan looked better though now, he had on a light green robe, it matched nicely with his eyes... It was far to low cut to be truly comfortable for anyone not used to wearing such garments. But it suited A-Yuan somehow. He had his hair fully down this time. The light pink rouge that stained his lips and cheeks made him look even softer, matching the expression on his face.

He looked like a god, no, better. He shouldn't be socializing with some nobody. He shouldn't be treating some nobody like he cares when he clearly doesn't. Maybe the man is just to drunk to realize that little crease between A-Yuan' eyes, the way his smile twitched down a little whenever the man tried to touch his hands.

It annoyed Shen Jiu to no end seeing that man touch A-Yuan like that. Shouldn't he be able to tell how uncomfortable it makes him!? Shen Jiu must have been glaring because a couple of customers nearby backed away slightly apon seeing him.

"A-Yuan"

A warmth seemed to show up in his stomach upon seeing A-Yuan turn to him smiling. Not a fake smile he'd give clients, a real one. He looked at Shen Jiu as if he was world. Shen Jiu hated to say that he almost liked the feeling.

"A-Jiu! When did you get here? OMG, please tell me your spending the night! I have so much gossip to tell you since the last time you visited the Lotus Pavilion! You would not believe what Lan-Jiejie did to one of the customers. Oh and I have that bestiary that you let me borrow from last time! I had completely forgot to return it back to you. Oh, Oh! How have things been on Qing Jing Peak, have-"

A-Yuan had stood up from his seat beaming, running over to Shen Jiu and grabbing his hand. Only looking at the brothel madam (who gave an annoyed look before waving him off quickly to say yes) for a quick moment before dragging Shen Jiu to the stairs up to his room. Completely seeming to forget about the drunk man he was originally playing with.

"A-Yuan, calm down." A-Yuan's hands were always so warm compared to his own. But, he let himself be held by the other man for some reason he still had yet to figure out. "You didn't say that you were moving to the Warm Red Pavilion?"

"Oh yeah! That was pretty recent so I never got the chance to send a letter up to you. It took way to long to get rooms set up and everything!" A-Yuan said with a sigh, though the excitement not really leaving his face as he let go of Shen Jiu's hand to grab a small jade tablet and held it up to the Shen Jiu's room door. The door quickly swinging open as Shen Jiu was dragged yet again, this time into the room.

...

I have no more ideas, so,

THE END

[rafetopia]

𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧

- 𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!bsf!reader

genre: fluff & smut -> 18+ only!

word count: 6k

warnings: smut, protected sex, oral sex (m receiving), mentions and consumption of alcohol (underage drinking for the americans under us) if I forgot anything, pls tell me

summary: u make rafe an offer he can't say no to, no matter how dangerous it is for your friendship

It was a pretty summer evening, you were sitting at the bar at the Kildare country club, sipping on your favorite drink, a caipirinha. The barkeeper didn’t really care about IDs as long as the tip was good and you always paid high. You were scrolling through your phone, trying to catch up with your friends' group chat, when you recognized a voice behind you. Well, three voices to be exact: Kelce, Topper, and Rafe, your best friend since childhood. Normally you’d join them, but after Kelce walked in on you and his brother last week, you rather stayed where you were and hoped they wouldn’t see you. Unfortunately, your fears soon became true when Topper opened his mouth.

“Rafe, isn’t that (Y/N)?” 

“What?” He asked, before following his finger that pointed at the bar. “Oh, yeah… I guess.” 

“You guys, that reminds me, I forgot to tell you but guess who I caught Jason with last week!” Kelce exclaimed, almost excited. 

And there it was. 

“No, you didn’t!” Topper yelled out. “Rafe, did you know about this?” 

“No Topper, I didn’t know about this and would you shut the fuck up, not everyone needs to know about this you asshole!”

“What, don’t you guys tell each other everything?” The blonde one scoffed. 

“She isn’t obligated to tell me everything.” He mumbled quietly, almost impossible for you to hear but you noticed the shift in his voice, as if he was hurt by the fact that you didn’t tell him. 

They probably thought that you couldn’t hear them, due to the AirPods in your ears but that was just one of the many reasons u went with the Pro Model instead of the normal ones.

“That makes me realize, it’s been a long ass time since I had some pussy…” Kelce groaned at his own realization, making the other two roll their eyes. 

“When did you?” 

“Last month.”

“It’s the third, Kelce.” 

“I know.” He smirked, causing the other two to chuckle.

“Kelce, no one wants to know about your dirty sex life,” Rafe stated. 

“Topper does. Besides, you’re just jealous.” 

“Jealous?” He scoffed, as he took a sip from his drink, “Why on earth would I be jealous?” 

“Because you don’t get pussy. Like… ever.” 

“Bullshit!” 

“Really?” Kelce questioned, raising an eyebrow. “When was the last time? And who?” 

“Kelce…” Topper tried to intervene in order to save the mood but he was cut off by Rafe. 

“Saturday. After your party and by the way, you run your mouth, you’ll never know who.” Rafe answered before he got up and took his drink.

“Oh come on! Don’t leave me hanging like this!” The other boy pleaded, “Where are you going?” 

“Away.” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle at what you just witnessed. You didn’t like how the conversation had upset him, but at the same time, you thought it was funny how easily boys got upset by topics like this. You finished your drink and turned your attention back to your phone since you weren’t interested in what Kelce and Topper had to discuss now. 

You had just ordered yourself another drink when you noticed someone taking the chair beside you. 

“One beer please.” He ordered, sliding a twenty dollar bill over the counter. 

He then turned to you, took out your airpod, and plugged it into his ear. 

“Nothing?” He scoffed, before handing it back to you. 

You just shrugged your shoulders and smiled innocently. 

“Were you eavesdropping on me?” 

“On you, and the girlfriends? Hell nah.” You chuckled. 

He watched, as you slurped from your drink, and typed something into what he assumed was your friend's group chat but as much as he tried to believe you, he couldn’t help but think of the possibility that you did hear them. 

“Cam.” 

“Hm?” 

“Stop staring at me, you creep, and drink your beer.”

“I’m not staring.”

“Yes, you are.” 

“Fine. I’ll stop staring when you stop calling me that.” 

“Never.” 

“Then I’ll never stop staring.” He grinned, as he took another sip from his beer, causing you to roll your eyes.

You were right, he was staring. How couldn’t he? You were the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. He’d thought that way when he was six years old and first saw you, moving into the house next to Topper and he still thought that way, fourteen years later when you were sitting at the bar next to him. 

“Cam?” 

“Hm?”

“Why didn’t you tell him the truth?”

He gave you a look of confusion, not knowing what you could’ve meant by that question. “What do you mean?” He asked, as he took another sip of his beer, before nervously waiting for you to elaborate.

“That you’re still a virgin.” 

He tried to hide his surprise but failed miserably when he sent the contents of his mouth all over the bar counter. Suddenly, he felt a feeling of nervousness spreading through him, consuming every single nerve of his body. 

“What makes you think that?” He asked as he reached for the tissue the bartender handed him. “I’m not… I’m not a virgin…” He whispered, “I’ve had sex before.”

“Really?” You chuckled in disbelief, as you eyed the boy in front of you, who tried to desperately clean himself up, while panic spread through his eyes. “Then why did you lie to them?” 

“Lied? What makes you think I lied?”

“Because you were with me last Saturday after the party you dumbass and I know for sure that I kept my clothes on that night.” 

“Hm.” 

“Hm.” 

“But that doesn’t mean anything.”

“It doesn’t.” You agreed, taking another sip from your drink.

“Then what makes you think I never did it?” 

“Because, Rafe Cameron, I've known you since you were six years old and you have been my best friend ever since. I know everything about you. Hell, you tell me everything. And don’t say you don’t, because you told me when you masturbated for the first time and Ward and your grandparents walked in on you and you were so frightened and embarrassed that you couldn’t control yourself and your sperm-”

“Sheesh okay, okay I get it!” He exclaimed, slamming his hand onto your mouth to keep you from brabbling out the most embarrassing moment of his life. “You know me.” 

“I do. Now what I wanted to say was, that you always tell me everything. But you never told me about any girls. Sure that crush you had on Rachel Morgan in seventh grade but that doesn’t count. You never even told me about your first kiss.” You paused, as realization hit you. “Wait, did you even-”

“Yes!” He exclaimed quicker than he could finish your sentence. “Yes, I’ve had my first kiss, you chatterbox…” 

You eyed him for a second, trying to figure out if he was lying or not but decided to believe him. For now.

“See, I knew you were eavesdropping before!”

“Of course I was.” You grinned. “But now, don’t change the subject. Why did you never do it?”

“Do we really have to talk about this? Here?” 

“Yes. Now answer my question.” 

“No.” 

“Fine.” 

And with that, it was over, as you didn’t want to make him any more uncomfortable than he visibly was already. You continued talking about other stuff, like what he did today and how you had to help your little brother with his school project because he had been too busy making out with his new girlfriend. You also talked about summer plans and if you wanted to go on vacation together but the air around the two of you was different. It turned into that thing that you couldn’t stop thinking about, no matter how hard you tried to. 

It also brought another idea into your head, one that you couldn’t let go of even though you knew how bad it was. So bad, it could ruin your friendship and yet, it didn’t stop you from making the potentially biggest mistake of your life. 

“I gotta go now, my mom’s cooking lasagna and I can’t miss that.”

“Sure.” 

You grabbed your phone and bag, before hopping down from the bar stool. You wanted to turn around and just leave but something inside of you, made you stop by his side.

“You know…” You whispered into his ear, “You don’t have to stay a virgin. I can help you in that department. Think about it.” And with that you turned around and left the island club, leaving a speechless Rafe Cameron behind.

He would lie if he said he never thought about it. He’d thought about it almost every time he saw you, since you were seventeen. It started when you told him that your crush Jason Parker took your virginity after he’d asked you out on a date. The two of you dated for approximately five days before you found him sticking his tongue into Allison Taylor, your best friend back then. He’d found you crying in your room after you didn’t come to school that day. 

It broke his heart, seeing you like this and it was from that moment on that he knew, he’d treat you better than any other guy ever would. And he was right. Since that day you’ve had your fair share of meaningless nights with several different guys and Rafe was always there to pick up the pieces. But after a while, you’d stopped caring. You stopped craving more than they were able to give and put yourself first. Because in the end, when you craved that type of love and affection, you’d always find some in Rafe's arms. 

It wasn’t that he never had the chance to do it, there were plenty of chances but none of them felt right. None of those girls that offered themselves made him feel good, none were able to bring him into the mood and after a while, he just stopped trying. 

But with you, with you, It could be different he thought, because he knew you. He knew with you, it wouldn’t be just a meaningless fling to get it over with. He took another sip from his beer before he pulled out his phone and opened his messages, your chat, to be exact. 

He wanted to agree and say yes, but somehow his finger always deleted the message as soon as he typed it out. It wasn’t that he wasn’t sure if he wanted to do it, it was more that a part of him wasn’t quite sure if you’d been serious earlier. He was nervous, but he’d never get his answer if he didn’t ask. He knew he wanted to ask you but it wasn’t until later that evening when he finally found the courage to type out the words.

“Soo… where you serious?” 

“About what?” You responded, but Rafe knew goddamn well that you knew what he was talking about, and that you’d sit in front of your phone, smiling about the fact that you’d make him type it out. 

“Come on, you know what I mean…”

“…” 

“Goddamnit, (Y/N)…”

“Would you do it? With me?” 

He was sitting on his bed, waiting anxiously for your response, expecting it to take ages but to his surprise, your answer came faster than his screen went out.

“Yes.” 

He didn’t realize it, but the second he read those three magic letters, a smile crept over his face, a smile so big it almost touched his ears.

“If you want to.” 

“I do.” 

“When?”

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“I am.” 

And with that, it was settled. You were coming over tomorrow for your traditional movie night, always on the first Saturday of every month. You didn’t want it to feel too planned out for him, which was why you didn’t speak about it any further but it was obvious that it would most likely happen then. 

To say he was nervous was an understatement. Rafe wasn’t used to feeling this way, he was barely ever nervous but this was different. He spent hours cleaning his room, he even put on new bed sheets and refilled his room refresher just to make everything perfect. He was pretty satisfied with his work until the thought entered his head that it might feel too forced so he grabbed a few clothes out of his laundry basket and put them back into the corner of his room, to make it feel more “natural”. 

He then took a long and thorough shower, using more soap than he usually did and putting more perfume on than he should’ve, because he wanted to smell extra good for you. He was so nervous and so excited at the same time that his brain almost went blank when he heard the doorbell. He took a deep breath, before heading down the stairs where he almost collided with Wheezie. 

“God, Rafe! Don’t you have eyes?”

“Sorry.”

“Geez you smell worse than a perfumery!” She complained, holding her hand in front of her nose. 

“So bad?” He asked, becoming visibly nervous. “Shit!”

“What are you going on a date?” She giggled, “With who?” 

“None of your business, now let me through!”

“With whom are you going out?” 

Rafe was about to complain when she suddenly turned around and ran down the stairs, towards the front door. Rafe chased after her but didn’t make it in time to open the door before her.

“(Y/N)!” The girl exclaimed, surprised, “You look pretty tonight!” 

“Thank you!” You chuckled with a slight look of confusion on your face. 

“Have fun!” She giggled before she turned around and ran back upstairs.

“Don’t mind her.” 

“Oh I never do, you know I love her.” You smiled softly as you entered the house and pulled him into a close hug. 

You had to hold your breath for a second, not because he smelled bad, he smelled good and you’d always loved his perfume, it was just a little… much. He, however, couldn’t get enough of your scent. He engaged it as deeply as he could, hoping he’d never have to smell anything else. 

You felt his heart pounding against your chest, now his heart had always pounded a little bit stronger when you hugged him but nothing like it did right now. 

“Do you have Ice cream? I’ve been craving Ice cream the whole day but we’re out and can you believe it but they were out at the supermarket as well.” You brabbled away, sending a smile over his face. “That’s why I hate this hot weather, you know? Also, I never know what to wear.”

“Sweetheart, you live in the Outer Banks…”

“I know.” You grinned, as you opened the door of his freezer. “But I'll always be a New York girl at heart.”

“Look in the top one.” He suggested as you rummaged through every other drawer. 

“Strawberry-Yogurt? Oh my god, I love you, Rafe Cameron!” You exclaimed, sending a warm feeling through his stomach. 

He turned around and handed you two bowls and a spoon before he turned around to get two small ones as well. 

He knew how much you loved ice cream, especially that flavor, which was why he made sure he’d always have some in case you were craving it. It always sent a smile across his face, when he made you happy and it was such an easy thing to do. You grew up rich, just like him but you never cease to appreciate the small things in life, something that he’d always admired about you. 

You grabbed the bowls and sprinted upstairs, making it hard for the boy behind you to keep up. You got out of your sneakers and jumped onto his bed. 

“What do you wanna watch?” He asked as he laid himself beside you and scrolled through his smart TV. 

“It’s your turn to pick Cam.” You mumbled through your mouth full of ice cream. “Just nothing too cheesy.”

“I never pick something cheesy.” 

“You wanted to watch Twilight last time.”

“Because I have never seen it before! I didn’t know what it was about…” He chuckled. “Besides, you always complain about my picks, no matter what I choose.

“Hmmm, keep telling that to yourself. And besides, not true.” You giggled. “Now here eat your ice cream before it melts.”

“You’d eat it before that happens.” 

“True.” 

He softly shook his head as he let out another soft chuckle before typing something into the TV. 

“We’re the Millers?” You raised an eyebrow, “seriously?”

“See!” He laughed, “Here pick something yourself!” He added as he handed you the remote.

“No, no we’re watching this.” 

“Okay.” He smiled and pressed play. He then finally started to touch his already half-melted ice cream and you scooted closer to him, so you could rest your head on his shoulder. 

The two of you had always done it like this but somehow, everything you did or said today, let his heart beat faster. The movie was nice and you almost choked on your water twice, besides the fact that you were skeptical at first. 

As soon as it was over you jumped up and headed to the bathroom, while Rafe went down and got something to drink. He knew that if it would happen tonight, then most likely soon which made his heart beat even faster than it already was. He decided he wanted to cool down a little bit, which was why he picked up a bottle of cherry-flavored whiskey and two classes, before heading back upstairs. He was about to pour himself a drink when he suddenly felt a soft hand on his shoulder. 

“Don’t.” You said softly, causing him to turn around. You saw the questioning look on his face, which made you elaborate. “I know you’re nervous, baby… but you don’t want to be intoxicated for this.”

“It’s… it’s just one drink.” 

“Trust me.” You smiled, “Do you want this? Are you ready? We can wait if you want to.” 

“No.” He whispered, as he softly pulled away a strain of hair that had fallen into your face. “I don’t wanna wait.” 

With that, he leaned in, carefully and still a little bit unsure if you really wanted this but when he saw the sparkle in your eyes when you looked at him he knew he couldn’t resist. He placed his hand on your hips, as the other one still held your face before pulling you closer to him until your lips finally touched. The kiss started, soft and careful, as if he needed to test the waters first but as soon as you kissed him back, it grew more and more passionate. 

He had thought about this moment for a long time now, but the reality was better than anything he ever could’ve imagined. Your lips were soft and tasted like strawberries, due to the lip balm you always carried around with you. 

You put your arms around his neck and let your hand stroke through his hair, something you’d always loved doing. He slowly let his hand wander down your waist, until he stopped at your ass, causing you to smirk against his lips. 

You slowly pulled away from the kiss and looked into his eyes, asking one last time if he was sure he wanted to do this. As soon as he gave you a nod, you grabbed the ends of his shirt and pulled it off his arms, as he put them up for support. You then turned around, signaling him to pull down the sipper of your dress. He was left speechless, the second it fell off your shoulders and revealed your body. He took a few seconds to take everything in. 

His eyes traveled down from your lips to your tits, which were hidden in a beautiful black lace bra, which revealed just enough to feed on his imagination of what would hide beneath it. His eyes then traveled further down to a rose tattoo on your rips, just beneath your boobs. You had quite a few tattoos, some he knew of, mostly because he was the one accompanying you to your appointment, but others, he had never seen before. Like the small date written in Roman numerals, just above the lace of your matching thong. He didn’t know what it meant but it didn’t matter. He was so amazed by your beauty, he forgot about time. You thought it was adorable how his eyes were fixated on your body, almost as if he was afraid to look at anything else. 

It was you, who brought him back to reality when you placed your Index finger under his chin, gently pushing it up before leaning in for another kiss. You slowly opened his belt and unbuttoned his jeans, before pushing it down his body. You too, needed a second to take everything in. It wasn’t the first time that you’d seen him shirtless, just like it wasn’t the first time that he’d seen you exposed like this since the two of you had spent hundreds of hours at the beach together but it was the first time in a setting like this. You softly caressed his strong shoulders, as you felt his muscles playing beneath your fingertips, while your eyes traveled over his chest down to his abs.

He truly was the most beautiful man you had ever seen and all this time, he had been right in front of you. When you looked up at him, you were met with the prettiest eyes you had ever seen accompanied by the typical Rafe Cameron smirk, the one you loved so damn much. 

Suddenly, you felt this small string of nervousness floating through your body, something you didn’t expect. Maybe it was the way he was looking at you or maybe it was the fact that you were about to be his first, which gave you a great responsibility, in your eyes at least. You wanted it to be perfect, you wanted to be perfect, so it would be a memory he held high in his heart forever. You wanted it to be everything your first time wasn’t, you wanted it to feel like heaven for him. 

He then took your hand and led you to the bed, where he sat down and pulled you on top of him. You placed your lips on his, but this time with more force and passion than before. The second your tongue met his, it became a fight over dominance, one you didn’t expect. You were even more surprised, when he opened your bra in one try, as if it was nothing. 

That’s talent. You thought to yourself, before pulling it off completely and letting it fall on the floor. Now if you thought he was stunned before, then he was hypnotized now. He let his thumbs travel over your nipples, sending shivers down your spine since they’d always been your soft spot. Especially after you got them pierced a few months ago, everything was intensified and he knew that. Soon, he replaced his thumbs with his mouth, which caused you to moan out loud. You let your head fall back and closed your eyes, as you enjoyed every single second of it. 

Your hands traveled through his hair, gripping tight every time he softly nipped on them, careful not to hurt you. His tongue sent shivers through your spine, making you crave him more and more with every second that passed. You started slow movements on his lap, intensifying them with every move until you felt his hardened erection pressing against your folds. You knew that he wanted more and you were more than happy to give it to him. 

You pulled yourself back up and placed a soft kiss on his forehead, signaling him to look up. When he did, he immediately went in for another kiss, making it hard for you to concentrate. You drew soft lines over his chest until you reached his nipples, which caused his dick to twitch under you. You knew he loved this, the hardened grip on your ass showed you just how much he loved this but when you placed your full hand on his chest you were met with a heartbeat so fast, it was almost worrying.

“God, you're nervous.” You whispered, causing him to look up at you. “But don’t worry baby boy.” You smiled, “Just lean back and relax, I’ve got you.” 

“Okay.” He said and crawled back so he could lay down properly. 

“Good boy. Now close your eyes and relax.” 

You carefully pulled down his boxers and took in the sight in front of you. You felt the saliva in your mouth building up at his erection, a picture that would burn itself in your mind forever. You then leaned down and slowly let your tongue trace over his top, causing Rafe to release a soft moan. 

“That’s right baby, moan for me. Show me what you like.” 

And he did. Every move you made was followed by a moan of his, some softer and some louder. When you took his whole length into your mouth, his hands grabbed the sheet under him, forming fists as he tried not to scream out loud. He had never felt something like this before and it made him go crazy. You let your tongue trace circles around him, as you moved your lips up and down his length. You knew he was getting close, so you stopped. Sure, he might’ve been able to keep going but you didn’t know that and you didn’t want him to miss the best part. 

“Why did you stop?” 

“Because there’s so much more I wanna show you.” 

“I want to make you feel good too…” 

“But you are, baby.” You smiled, “Making you feel good, makes me feel good. Besides, today is all about you.” 

“Then come here.” He said and signaled you to come closer. 

As soon as you were in reach, he grabbed you and pulled you close to him, until he smashed his lips onto yours. This time, he was hungrier and his tongue was stronger, quickly taking over dominance. You loved this side of him, it showed you that he was comfortable and less nervous than before. And you were right. Soon his fingers were tipping around your clit and you were sure he could feel your juice through your panties. In one quick movement, he pushed your thong aside and his index finger into you. You were surprised, to say the least, but couldn’t stop moaning into his mouth. As if he knew what to do, he soon added his middle finger, causing your walls to clench around him. His movements got faster and faster, making it hard for you to concentrate. 

“How does that feel?” He asked as if you were not about to cum on his fingers. 

“Good…. You’re doing so good, baby, please don’t stop.” You were whimpering but barely getting the words out, sending a smirk over his face. You totally lost it when he added his thumb to the party and started tracing circles around your clit. 

Within seconds you reached your high, moaning out his name as he finger fucked you through your orgasm.

“How… how on earth did you…” You whispered, still trying to catch your breath. “How did you know…”

“I’ve read this book…” He stated, leaving you even more speechless. 

“You’ve read this book?” You paused, “You mean porn?” 

“No, an actual book!” He laughed, “Don’t be so surprised! I read sometimes.”

“So many things I didn’t know about you, Rafe Cameron…” You smirked.

“Really? What else didn’t you know?” 

“What an amazing kisser you are, for example.” 

He smirked at your answer, pulling you closer to him. “Say that again…” He mumbled but didn’t leave you any room to do so as he immediately went in to prove your statement. 

And you weren’t lying, he was an amazing kisser. He was very attentive in what he was doing, every little thing you seemed to like he saved into his brain and repeated it at every fitting moment. He let his hands travel down to your ass, where he started to pull down your thong. You went to his assistance when you noticed his struggle, reaching further down your legs. As soon as your panties hit the floor, you went back up to kiss him. 

“Are you…” You mumbled, “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” He whispered, as his arm reached towards his nightstand and pulled out a colorful little package, and handed it to you. “Can you…”

“Sure.” 

You had to do a little bit of hand work before you rolled it over with ease. You then positioned yourself so that you could slide it in easily. As soon as you felt him inside of you, the two of you moaned out loudly, almost synchronized. You knew that he’d feel good, after all, you had eyes but you didn’t expect him to feel that good. 

You took his hands and placed them on your tits, as you started to move. He picked up on it immediately and massaged them, with his thumb tracing over your nipples. You got goosebumps from the way he made you feel but weren’t the only one. 

He had never felt this good before, hell he didn’t even know he was able to ever feel that good. Sure he’d read things or seen them, but he never expected them to feel that way in real life. He never expected you to make him feel like he was in heaven but that’s exactly what you did. The way you moved your hips, the way your hands traced over his chest, as your nails dug into his skin, or the way your tits bounced to the rhythm of your movements. You felt so tight around him as if you were made just for him, and the way his tip reached your spot every time you made him thrust into you as if he was made just for you. As if you were made for each other. 

After a while you leaned down again, looking directly into his beautiful eyes. “Would you be an angel for me and suck them, baby?” You asked, batting your eyes at him. And who would he be to deny you that wish? Without missing a beat, he sat up a little bit and started sucking on your nipples again, just like he did before. 

And again you let your head fall back as he made your eyes roll. He was so careful, not to hurt you and yet managed to bite you so softly, sending shivers down your spine once again. His hands were on your back, holding you close to him, as his nails dug into your skin. You were pretty sure he would leave some marks but you didn’t care. All you wanted to do was to make him feel good, so you started to plant kisses down his neck, first soft ones, before becoming rougher and rougher. 

He’d stopped sucking by now, as he let his head fall to the side to give you better access. 

You moved your tongue up his neck until you reached his ear and started softly nibbling on it, making him moan out loud. He had no idea how good that could feel and that he’d like it so much but oh how he did. Everything you did, he loved, it was like you had opened this whole new world for him.

A world filled with pleasure and fun, filled with all those things he had never experienced and done before and it felt amazing. 

You pushed him back into the mattress of his bed and started to fasten your movements. You grabbed his bed frame for support, as you pounded onto him, with all your fire and strength. He held you by your waist for support, occasionally sliding down to your ass. He wanted to help and support you, but he was scared he’d bring you out of your rhythm. Not that you needed any support, he was already on the edge of cumming. You noticed, by the way, his dick twitched inside of you and the way he bit his lips, that he was close. 

“Don’t hold back for me baby boy, let go for me.” You managed to get out between your moans. “Be a good boy and cum for me.” 

And with that, he let go and he sounded so beautiful doing so. In fact, you were convinced it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever heard. Rafe Cameron had always had trouble keeping himself together but never had to do so when he was with you. With you, he could be himself, he never had to keep up an act and convince everyone around him that he was a good man, a good son, and a worthy heir to his fathers' empire. With you, he could just be himself. 

“That was…” He tried to speak but was still trying to catch his breath. “That was incredible.”

“You were incredible, baby.” You smiled, before carefully getting off his dick, trying not to take the condom with you. You placed a soft kiss on his lips, before asking: “do you want me to take care of this? I need to go to the bathroom anyway.” 

“Me too, love. I’ll just take it. You can go to mine, I'll take the one down the hallway.” He said, before grabbing a clean pair of boxers and disappearing into the hallway. 

When he came back, you were already sitting on his bed, a bag of sweets in your hand. “Want some?” You asked with a mouth full of gummy bears, causing him to laugh. 

“You already know.” 

You handed him the bag and he took out a red strawberry, knowing they were your favorites. 

“Ey, not this one!” You complained, which only animated him to take another one. “So rude!” 

“You know me.” He grinned, making himself comfortable next to you. 

You were already in your sleepwear, a gray tank, and some black shorts, which signaled him that you’d be staying over for the night. You’d done so many times before, in the same bed as him as well but this time it felt different. It made him feel like everything was normal, that you didn’t regret anything, and that you weren’t weirded out by what just happened. 

He crawled under the blanket and turned himself to face you, who was still chewing on some gummy bear. He loved that sight of you, picking around in your bag, desperately looking for some red ones, even though you knew he had probably just eaten the last two. 

“Thank you, you know…” He whispered as if he was still unsure if he wanted to go there. 

“For what?” You grinned, knowing how much it would annoy him. 

“You know exactly, for what!” He chuckled, trying to hide his embarrassment.

“Pleasure.” You grinned.

“Now stop eating these, I’m pretty sure you already brushed your teeth!” He grabbed the bag of sweets out of your hand and placed it on his nightstand.

“You are so mean.” 

“I thought we’d established that already.” He grinned, before turning around to turn off the lights. 

He turned back around, where you were already facing him. It was dark in the room but he was still able to see your face through the moonlight. 

“Good night, princess.”

“Good night, Cameron.” You whispered, as you leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his lips. 

He then turned around and closed his eyes, trying to relieve every single moment of that night, hoping he’d dream of it. He was about to fall asleep when he heard your voice again. 

“Hey, Cam?” 

“Hm?” 

“Did you put that pile of stinky clothes back there so you won’t look like you tried too hard?”

“No?”

“Oh, you so did.” You chuckled, as u closed your eyes and turned around.

[lucygraysboy]

“mhm, just watch him,” billy sighs, rolling his eyes because he’s unsure whether she’s pretending not to notice pat’s pathetic attempts at flirting or is genuinely oblivious. what if it’s the former? what if she’s just playing? he shouldn’t be thinking like this and getting upset over something that’s possibly only real in his head but can’t really help it. “oh, i’m not telling you who. you figure it out, world’s greatest detective,” he muses with a hint of playfulness, enjoying the teasing. being the mysterious one can be fun. he now sees why she does it. “and don’t worry. i won’t let you end up on a one on one date with him.” with olinger? olinger knows better. unless he needs his face rearranged by billy’s fists. but pat… that one’s a snake. “do i need permission now to make sure you won’t fall off the steps? rude,” he sighs, not a single regret written across his face. he’d do it again. he doubts she’s truly upset about being picked up, she’s upset because for once he knows something and she doesn’t. “billy boy, i gotta say it. you look a bit like a fag, you know that, right? that fuckin’ city changed ya.” beckwith bumps his shoulder and billy just rolls his eyes, bumping him right back with a bit more force than necessary.

pat briefly glances at billy, but billy’s lost in a conversation with jesse, and his shoulders relax. “there you go,” he happily hands her the peanut butter cup, laughing softly upon hearing her answer. “you can be honest with me. it stinks. and it’s hotter than hell in there. and the nights are the worst. they all snore and fart, and it stinks even worse because they’re drunk out of their minds. if you brought airpods, put them in as soon as you lie down. i made the mistake of leaving mine at home so now i just roll around and think about sleeping outside every few minutes.” now that he’s wearing black swim shorts, his badge is hanging from his neck, and he’s clearly put some more cologne on both sides of his neck. “you know, i have to admit, i’m surprised billy’s brought you here. must be uncomfortable, being the only girl among men like this bunch. olinger’s criminal record is impressive. i wouldn’t want my girl around them, but that’s me.”

“i think you could run it pretty decently, darlin’. but now as great without me.”

she jokes back before the tiny brunette blinks, eyes going a little more alert, “TWO? what do you mean two got a crush on me.” brows perk, then she turns to look towards the door in confusion. that was something she wasn’t aware about. “well he didn’t have to steal something as HUGE as a boat and he didn’t have to bring his dirt eatin’ friends.” the scowl returns, angry whispering coming from her, eyes rolling because who cares if he’s trying— he’s still a jerk. and a jerk for calling her LUCY. she didn’t forget. eyes following him putting the hat on backwards, wishing he didn’t look so attractive wearing it. “oh is it? wish we had time and privacy to look.” she leaves him with that after grabbing her phone and mini yellow purse backpack with sun lotion and a few other amenities inside it. throwing her backpack on, slipping her pink flip flops on and leading the way out. “mind your business.” already speaking before jesse can say a word.

[kinda-indecisive]

˳.⁺⁎˚ ⋆ ˳⁎˚ ⋆･˳ His Clothing pt II ˚ ⋆･˳ . ⁎˚ ⋆･˳.⋆ .˳

You (MC) unintentionally surprise the guys by wearing an article of clothing that belongs to them (for the first time (first time in a while, for Caleb)).

Part 2: The Xavier and Caleb Edition!

˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆   .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆   .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆   .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆   .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆   .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆

Xavier

When he opens his door, your boyfriend looks like he just woke up. His light, white-blond hair stands up in a few places, confirming that he had come home immediately after work, unlike you, who had gone out with friends.

You didn’t stay out late, however, since you two have had plans to make dinner together for a week now.

Excited, you raise the shopping bags with your half of the ingredients, “Are you ready?”

He smiles faintly, “Uh-huh. Come in, partner.”

Walking into the house, you’re surprised when he tenses up at your side. Looking up at him, you manage to witness the faintest of changes to his expression before it disappears instantaneously. Then his face goes unreadable.

“Xavier?”

“Hm?” he hums, then, “Let’s go.” 

He steps past you, toward the kitchen and you follow him, disappointed and confused. Did you say something wrong? You don’t know how that would be possible, as you’ve said maybe 10 words, tops. Besides, you could have sworn he’d looked happy to see you when he first opened the door…

In the kitchen, you make an effort to tease him.

Handing him the knife, you urge him toward the veggies, “You’re on chopping duty because that’s safer for all of us.”

You’re doubly disappointed when he gives you a forced smile, “Alright.”

No pouting. No teasing. He doesn’t even attempt to approach the pots and pans once they’re on the stove. 

While the food cooks, he sits at the table looking down at his phone with such intensity that you are certain he’s avoiding you. And when you test your theory, he confirms your fears when he stands abruptly.

“I’m going to buy some soda.”

“Oh?” you blink, “Do you want me to go with you?”

“No… You need to keep an eye on the food.”

It’s true, but your heart sinks anyway. And he’s out the door before you even realize.

When he returns, you’ve been stewing much longer than the food has. As soon as the door closes behind him, you trap him in place.

“Why are you ignoring me?”

“I’m… not,” he says, averting his eyes to a point just over your shoulder. He tries to take a step forward, but you step closer, his back flat against the door.

“I can leave, if you want... It’s just… we’ve had this dinner planned for a while and I was excited to spend time with you. But—”

“Are you breaking up with me over this meal?”

The question is sudden. His voice is quiet, but steady.

“I—What?”

He continues to focus on that point over your shoulder when he mutters, “Why else would you show up wearing another man’s hoodie?”

You continue staring up at him like he just sprouted antennas. Slowly, the tips of his ears turn pink.

“This is your hoodie, Xavier.”

Your voice comes out flat and he blinks, “But… the cologne…”

Your eyes widen and he deflates for a second, right before you cover your mouth with your hand to bite back your laughter, only to fail as you try to explain through your giggles.

“Remember when we went to the mall together last week? And that really pushy saleswoman kept trying to get you to try their newest cologne?”

As you speak, his ears turn redder and redder.

“By the time I managed to grab your hand to pull you away, she had already sprayed you. Twice.”

You continue and he lowers his head, resigned and ashamed of himself.

“And you got overwhelmed by the smell, so you left the hoodie at my place for it to air out.”

He slumps forward, his forehead against your shoulder, cheek warm against your own, “I might be… an idiot.” 

Still giggling, you plant a kiss on the top of his silly head.

˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆   .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆   .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆   .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆   .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆   .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆

Caleb

You are avoiding your boyfriend.

You wouldn’t have had a reason to if you hadn’t been so obviously lying in the first place. But now as you dart through the crowd in the plaza making your way to the address of the shop you’ve have only seen online up until now, you're incredibly annoyed that you might have ruined your surprise. Still, you insist on trying.

When you walk through the door, your jaw drops.

Models of every type of aircraft you can imagine hang from the ceiling of this shop, suspended in singular moments of flight. Planes, jets, helicopters—everything.

A man your age walks out of the back room, giving you a friendly smile, “PlushieKillerrr22?”

“That’s me!”

“You brought the jacket,” he acknowledges, “Your boyfriend really is DAA. I’m glad. So many people have tried to cheat me out of this model because, as you already know, they only manufactured a hundred of them way back then. But my grandpa was always insistent about who I was allowed to sell it to.”

“Your vetting process was no joke,” you agree, following him to the counter. He disappears into the back again, returning with the box that makes your eyes widen with excitement.

“Your boyfriend is lucky, having someone like you willing to put in the time and money for a gift like this,” he says, and you blush deeply. Finishing your transaction, you leave the shop carrying the gift in an inconspicuous black bag.

That’s when you see him.

He’s in the plaza you’d cut through, a whole head taller than the crowd. Quickly yanking your hoodie over your head, you otherwise remain casual to avoid his suspicion.

Parting the crowd, you head toward the boba shop you saw on the opposite side of the plaza, having noticed a back entrance you’re certain you can slip out of without being spotted.

“Lurking, are we?”

The voice is familiar and colder than expected, freezing you in place.

“I saw you trying to avoid me. If you drop the hood, set the bag down, and tell me who sent you, maybe I’ll ignore the fact that you’re tailing my girlfriend.”

Your face scrunches in confusion, then realization.

“Caleb, it’s me, dummy.”

Straightening up, you turn and look him straight in the eye as you lower your hood.

It isn’t Colonel Caleb who stands behind you, the coldness in Caleb’s expression faltering when he sees you, his brow furrowing with simultaneous confusion and recognition. He takes a step forward, staring as he takes the zip front of the jacket between his fingertips.

“Where… where’d you get the jacket, Pips?” he asks, his voice hoarse.

“It’s yours.”

“Mine?” he inquires, “That’s… I thought I lost mine, after…”

“They issued you two, remember? You sent one to me and told me to hold onto it. I think you wanted me to wear it while I was in college so people would know I had a guy friend in the DAA,” you snort, nudging him teasingly, the tenseness leaving his shoulders and a genuine smile appearing on his lips, “I’ve had it buried in the back of my closet for some time because of… bad memories. But things are different now.”

“I can’t believe you still have this,” he cocks his head, his smile putting you on edge as he teases, “Or that it took this long for you to finally get the memo and wear it!”

“I knew it! I knew that was your plan all along!” you laugh, thumping him on the chest with your fist.

Still grinning, he gestures to the bag in your hand, “And what do you got in there, hmm?”

“That’s another surprise for later. Don’t be so nosy,” you glare, hugging the gift to your chest.

He chuckles, “Alright, alright. I’ll let it slide. For now.”

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

Previous Post ←(･ ᗜ ･)ﾉ

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

And part 2!!

taglist❤: @fallthelong

MY LOVE AND DEEPSPACE MASTERLIST

[mistressofthemanor]

masterofthemanor

"Right" He agreed, his tone betraying both the relief and the joy that suddenly overcame him upon hearing her confirm that she'd not simply acknowledged his will, but understood his intentions and stood beside him, giving them a chance as a couple to face their first obstacle together in years. At first, he merely nodded with encouragement as it dawned on him, then the corners of his lips slowly turned upwards on their own accord. He was grateful for how she decided to handle their discussion; for, despite her own relentless nature, how she was able to put her ego to the side and give way to something that'd strengthen them as a unit. "Let's do that" He concluded and the smile on his face only became wider by that point as he was simply happy to be with her in that moment; to witness the outcome that filled him with hope and motivation for their future. He was determined to not only unveil the truth to their daughter, but also convince her that everything would be fine - and even better - so she wouldn't break the ties with either of them. At her expected, but not awaited final question, he couldn't help but hum to himself and reach for his tea to take a sip and earn himself a moment before giving his suggestion. "Now, that's a tough question" He announced nonchalantly, staring into his cup and biting down on his lower lip before placing the china down on the table and turning back to her. "The logical answer would be that we tell her as soon as possible. We should get over with it, so we can get this out of the way and stop hiding- I don't want to do that for long. *there, he stopped for a second and gave her a meaningful look* However, it's not that simple. You see, I would want to give her some time- a few days at least to get used to the idea and find her bearings- probably go over everything with Alexander, who'd, most likely soothe her, which'd help our cause... *he explained smoothly, resolved and composed, and without missing a beat* Additionally, I believe- and do correct me if I'm wrong and you have other notions, I feel we could use some time together as well. Just the two of us, no distractions, no responsibilities, no snooping around, no what-ifs... a peaceful getaway if you will, hopefully to aid us in finding our way back to each other... *shrugs* we need to get to know each other before I introduce you to my daughter *he smirked at her playfully, then cleared his throat before switching back to a more serious tone after his joke that meant to take the edge off of them needing to find their way back to one another* Ideally, I'd say two weeks. We could break the news to them after the recital- just in case our daughter gets so upset she refuses to be in the same room with us- that way, she couldn't revoke the invitation and we wouldn't have to let Ariadné down by not showing up at the event."

Quietly, she studied him as he spoke, a subtle flicker of fondness playing in her eyes. The corners of her lips curved gradually as he laid out his plan, her amusement restrained but unmistakable, especially when he joked about introducing her to Celeste. When he finished, she sat back slightly in her chair, folding her hands in her lap with the air of someone who had just listened to a well-crafted proposal and was giving it due consideration, although, in truth, her decision had already begun forming the moment he said we need some time together. “Well,” she said with a slow, deliberate elegance, “I must say, that is the most charmingly plan I’ve heard in some time." Her smirk deepened, though the warmth behind it softened the jest. “I admire the cleverness of it all. Pushing the confrontation past the recital to protect Ariadnè… ensuring the performance isn’t overshadowed by family dramatics… using the delay as an excuse to escape with me for two uninterrupted weeks…” She gave a slow, approving nod. “Very strategic. Very you.” Then, her gaze settled on his, and her voice lowered, losing some of its sharpness—becoming softer, more intimate. “But you’re right, Lucius. We do need time. Not just to remember what this is, but to be in it, without shadows crowding every step. If we’re going to face her, we need to do it as something solid. Something real. Not just familiar. And two weeks…” she mused. “That’s enough time for her to breathe, for Ariadnè’s moment to stay hers, and for us to come back to this house knowing exactly what we’re walking into.” She squeezed his hand one last time, then released it and took another sip of her tea, clearly satisfied. “So,” she said, with a trace of a smile lingering on her lips. “Where are you taking me, Mr. Malfoy?"

Bones of Contention

[from-izzy]

STILL BEAUTIFUL | ATEEZ JEONG YUNHO

"You're beautiful no matter what. With or without makeup. Scars or no scars. Breakouts or no breakouts. You’re still beautiful.”

pairing » ateez jeong yunho x fem!reader

trope/au » established relationship au, non-idol au

genre » very very super fluffy, hurt/comfort, gentle and caring boyfriend yunho

word count; estimated reading time » 1176; ~4 mins

warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » pet names (bubs), insecurities about skin/having breakouts, reader implied to be physically smaller than reader

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 ateez masterlist

yeah so...this wasn't originally a yunho fic but a series of events happened (the ateez movie-) and i just had to change this to yunho hehe...anyway!- thank you for beta-reading for me @jaehunnyy !!

You were definitely one of the luckier girls, especially during puberty and body changes. Maybe it's your genetics? Age? Or maybe it's your lifestyle factor too. On rare, special occasions, you would apply the thinnest layer of makeup. Even though you were interested in the art, you could never fully commit to waking up earlier to put it on. All in all, you kept your face free from any products as much as possible.

All your friends absolutely supported your no-makeup choice, as they believed that your skin didn't need to be exposed to unnecessary chemicals. Your clear, smooth skin, even through all the oily food, questionable sleep schedule and changing weather, is something that they've always wished for. They've always asked about your routine, but you weren't lying when you told them it's all soap and water at the very best.

Of course, occasional pimples and acne would still surface itself on your skin. Each time it does, you vowed to start researching and implementing skincare to your day. But each time it disappears, and the drive to prevent more breakout is pushed to the back of your mind.

Oh, how you wish you had researched earlier. How you wish you had acted as soon as the first pimple came to light. How you wish you would stop looking at yourself in the mirror and pick at the scars, just like what you're doing now.

Tears welled in your eyes, frustrated at the new, dissatisfying experience. You wanted to hide your face behind your palms as you wept alone in the bathroom, but you knew better than to have your dirty hands all over your inflamed skin. Sound asleep in the connecting bathroom, you hope that Yunho's light snores will drown your sobs. You rip a square of toilet paper, dab it lightly on the bottom of your eyelids, and you sniffle as quietly as possible so as not to wake Yunho up.

You exhale heavily, lower lip jutting at the face reflected in the mirror. The scars litter your forehead, cheeks and chin. You remember how taking photos used to be a joy, especially when Yunho was with you. Your loving boyfriend loves to take pictures of you too in all sorts of angles and poses. He would direct you and would lie on the floor even if it meant dirtying his clothes; gonna have to thank Wooyoung for those photography lessons. For any single outing, there would be hundreds of shots as Yunho hypes you up despite looks from passersby.

Can you blame him though? You are the most beautiful girl he's ever met, and you're his girl.

You're sure that Yunho has caught on to your refusals to take photos, claiming that you're not feeling good to be in front of the lens. While it's true, the reuse of the same excuse has been met with your boyfriend's raised eyebrows and downturned lip. Each crease line grows with his concern, but the kiss you leave on his lips would change the subject. It's only a temporary reassurance for the man, but he promises that he'll get to the bottom of it soon.

The time to 'get to the bottom of it' is tonight, when the clock just passed midnight. Yunho adjusts his sleeping position, his arm automatically reaching over to your side of the bed, only to be met with cold fabric. He groans, muttering your name numerous times with no response from you. An eye opens, squinting at the slightly ajar bathroom door. Blinking his tiredness away and ditching the weighted blanket, Yunho stumbles to the light source.

Steps away from the connected room, the first thing he hears is the occasional running water from the tap and broken sobs. It alarms him and knocks any sleepiness from his system.

"Bubs," Yunho's deep voice has you jumping, a hand over your chest. He apologises, trudging towards you with wide arms as his eyes adjust to the light above. "What are you doing up? Is everything okay?"

You turn away from him, busying your hands with soap and water, the very two that used to be enough for you. Still, you manage a nod with a broken hum. Amidst your shock and panic, you didn't realise that you left his arms open without you. Yunho's arms slowly return to his side, taking his place behind you. Strong arms wrap around your waist, Yunho resting his chin at the top of your head.

"Your eyes are red, bubs." You knew that his words meant more than pointing out the obvious. "I'm worried. Why are you crying alone, hm? You could've woken me up if something was wrong."

"No, nothing is wrong." Your head hangs low, biting your lips in anxiety as Yunho grumbles at your blatant lie. "Let's go back to be-"

You gasp sharply when Yunho spins you around and pulls you up to sit you at the counter. He traps your body with his arms beside your thighs. The height difference is accommodated when he steps back only to lean to have a better look at your tear-streaked face. He didn't let you turn away anymore, pressing his lips against yours.

His lips gently convey all his feelings for you, pulling away for a breath and sweet nothings. A teardrop lands on his cheek from you, but he doesn't mind at all. He keeps you grounded with his passionate kiss and words. It's only when Yunho pulls away to connect his forehead to yours that you decide to come clean to him.

"I've been insecure because of my breakouts." Yunho nods, a sign for you to continue as he listens. "That's why I haven't been taking a lot of pictures. I just feel so ugly, and my self-confidence has dro-"

"Beautiful." He pulls away to look into your glimmering orbs. "You're beautiful no matter what. With or without makeup. Scars or no scars. Breakouts or no breakouts. You’re still beautiful.” He feels your body start to relax. “You're still my beautiful girl."

Yunho cradles your jawline the second after. Just like he did to your lips, he presses fluttering kisses throughout your face. He actively avoided your pimples to avoid infections, but if it wasn't for that, he would have kissed every inch of your face. He wouldn't leave a single bit left untouched and unknown to his lips.

Yunho hushes you calmly and soothingly. His index finger playfully taps the tip of your nose. He would give you funny faces. All to make his girl laugh. When he hears his favourite sound in the whole world, he opens his arms once more. This time, you reciprocate, diving immediately to his frame.

"I love you," you whisper to his ear.

"I love you more."

Yunho spends the rest of the night kissing your face in bed, patting your head and playing with your hair. His gestures drift you off slowly and surely. With your light snores and dried tears, Yunho joins you in dreamland, satisfied with your warmth by his side.

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 ateez masterlist

join the taglist here » @k-films @kflixnet @starlit-network @kstrucknet @blossomnet @pirateeznet @illusionnet @haneul-and-clouds

[callmearcturus]

@ghostbird-7 linked me to the GQ write-up about Christopher McQuarrie and I'm reeling. I'm losing my entire fucking mind.

I've felt an admiration and kinship for McQ's philosophy on creating art for years now and the specific way he does it, his journey from artist-first to the guy who is parachuted in to save movies from themselves to a tradesman and the back to an artist, the focus on methodology. I'm going to expire.

this one fucking bit:

McQuarrie began to notice patterns. Mistakes that were made, over and over again. Studios soon recognized this particular talent. Once, McQuarrie told me, in his capacity as a movie ER doctor, he was parachuted in on two separate films in distress, on which two totally different filmmakers both had an Apocalypse Now poster in their office. “And I said, ‘Let me tell you how to make Apocalypse Now. Let me help you because it’s so simple. First, make The Godfather, then make The Conversation, then make The Godfather Part II. Then take all of your personal capital and all of your professional capital and gamble that and your marriage and the life of your leading man and your sanity on a movie about a war that nobody wants to remember. And then spend years shooting it and put it in cinemas and no one will come and it will take decades before people recognize what it is. That’s how you make Apocalypse. Now let me tell you something: You’re not making Apocalypse Now.’ ”

because its so simple MCQUARRIE YOU MASSIVE BITCH. /fans face

ENTIRE ARTICLE UNDER THE CUT bc man that fucking paywall is a bitch to get around

When it comes time to start a new Mission: Impossible movie, the first thing that happens is Tom Cruise, the star of the franchise, and Christopher McQuarrie, its longtime writer-director, sit down together and they ask each other: What do you want to do? The answer is inevitably: something difficult and dangerous.

Years ago, when Cruise and McQuarrie were beginning to sketch out the plot of 2018’s Mission: Impossible—Fallout, Cruise proposed a helicopter chase: his character in the films, Ethan Hunt, pursuing a bad guy, played by Henry Cavill, while both of them were aloft. As a rule, in Mission: Impossible, stunts are real: meaning they are performed by the actual actors involved, at least when possible, and when they are being done by Tom Cruise, that means all the time. “He’s the only actor in the world who is actually going to do everything,” Fraser Taggart, the series’s director of photography, told me.

In the Mission: Impossible franchise alone, Cruise has climbed the shiny glass sides of the Burj Khalifa, the world’s tallest building; hung from the side of an A400 military transport plane as it took off; and ridden an actual motorcycle off the edge of an actual Norwegian cliff. He has a commercial pilot license. He is one of 36 people in history to be named an honorary US naval aviator. He can parachute and BASE jump and free dive. But one issue with this particular idea for Fallout was that Cruise, at the time, was not trained as a helicopter pilot. So Cruise and McQuarrie made inquiries, and they were told that at eight hours a day, seven days a week, it would take three months to get Cruise up to speed. Cruise asked: What about the other 16 hours in a day? A month and a half later, he was ready to fly.

The second problem with the idea was that it was so perilous that most countries wouldn’t allow Mission: Impossible to try it within their borders. This is the next conversation McQuarrie and Cruise have. “You’ve got to figure out: Where in the world are we going to shoot this?” McQuarrie said recently. “Well, we’re going to go (a) where Bond isn’t. And (b) where Fast and Furious isn’t. And (c) where Mission has never been. That Venn diagram says: Here’s where you’re shooting. Provided the State Department even allows you to go there.”

With the helicopters, McQuarrie and Cruise tried India first, but “when we told them what we were going to do,” McQuarrie said, “they were like, That’s not happening here.” Finally, they found a friendly government in New Zealand, which said, according to McQuarrie: “Shoot it away from population, and just know if you fly in this glacier and anything happens, there’s no one that can come and get you. You’ll be there forever. They’re going to fly over it and drop a plaque.”

With the location secured, McQuarrie and Cruise got to work. In the sequence they’d planned, Hunt is pursuing a turncoat named Walker, played by Cavill, who is holding the detonator to two nuclear bombs. To film the chase, McQuarrie and his cameraman followed Cruise in a second helicopter. Once in the air, the production followed a strict fuel countdown, meaning they only had so much time in the sky, but the shot was tricky to get right. McQuarrie, over the radio, would give Cruise direction: left pedal, right pedal, until Cruise had flown himself into the frame. “Tom is lining up the helicopter in a camera he can’t see,” McQuarrie recalled. “And I said, ‘That’s your mark. Maintain it.’ The reason it’s always in the frame is because Tom Cruise is both flying the helicopter, looking over his shoulder so the camera can see him, and acting. He’s doing all of that at the same time.”

Simon Pegg, who plays Benji Dunn, a member of the IMF, or Impossible Mission Force, in the series, told me he often feels “a sense of quiet dread” when the production is away attempting one of these sequences. For this one, Pegg said, “I remember when we said goodbye and Tom was going off to do all this stuff with Henry, I said, ‘See you in London. Or maybe not.’ ”

McQuarrie and Cruise have now been working together for nearly two decades, beginning with 2008’s Valkyrie, which McQuarrie wrote and produced, and Cruise starred in. Their partnership has become one of the most productive and lucrative in Hollywood history. And at its center is Mission, as everyone involved calls it—a franchise unlike any other. Based on the TV series from the 1960s, the basic ingredients are almost camp: Each time out, Ethan needs a mission, which will be relayed via a self-destructing device. At some point, someone will wear a latex mask of a face that is not their own. The plots will be baroque; the exposition will come in 40-foot waves.

And yet in its sheer scale, its locations, its dedication to practical effects, and most of all its star, Mission is unmatched. Since McQuarrie came aboard—first as an uncredited screenwriter on the 2011 Mission: Impossible installment Ghost Protocol—the series has also distinguished itself as the rare action franchise about, for lack of a better word, adults. One unofficial rule of Mission is that Ethan Hunt can’t want to do any of the insane things he has to do (ride a motorcycle off a cliff, hang off the side of a plane in midair, etc.), because what normal, mature person would? The primary emotions Hunt seems to feel are guilt, grief, and fear. Just like the rest of us.

To these movies, McQuarrie brings a unique and singular skill set: screenwriter (he won an Oscar, at age 26, for the second Hollywood film he ever wrote, The Usual Suspects), producer, star-handler, director, fixer, stuntman. The producer Jerry Bruckheimer, who worked with McQuarrie on Top Gun: Maverick, told me: “When you look at the town, there are maybe 10 really gifted writers, and maybe 10 really gifted directors, that you can rely on to make something that the audience is going to love.”

McQuarrie is on both lists. And though he tries not to talk about it much, he is also on a third list, as the guy you call when your movie, or your script, isn’t working but the train has left the station and the film is already in production. Sometimes he is credited for this work—as on Edge of Tomorrow or Top Gun: Maverick—and sometimes, as on World War Z, or Rogue One, he is not, which suits him fine.

For the one sequence in Fallout with the helicopters—a scene that would ultimately run around 12 minutes in the film—they shot about 80 hours of footage, Mission’s editor, Eddie Hamilton, told me. Eighty hours. While director and actor hovered in the air. In a canyon where if something went wrong, there would be no escape. “If you want to know why I’m working for Tom for 18 years and other people aren’t,” McQuarrie said, “lots of directors will do that once. They don’t ever want to fucking do that again.”

One day recently, McQuarrie was at home in London, where he lives in a two-story apartment near Hyde Park, racing to finish the latest and possibly last installment of the franchise, Mission: Impossible—The Final Reckoning. (McQuarrie and Cruise both remain coy about whether this is, in fact, the final Mission film.) It was a warm, quiet Saturday, and McQuarrie and Hamilton, his editor, were ensconced in an editing bay on the second floor of the apartment, working through the latest version of the iconic This message will self-destruct brief that more or less begins each Mission movie.

McQuarrie, who is called McQ by his friends, has an emphatic gray sweep of hair, clear-framed glasses, and the distinct and easily legible features of an iPhone emoji. He gestured at the scene on the monitors in front of him and Hamilton. “It’s a giant exposition dump,” he said. “And it’s always excruciating because information is the death of emotion.” Mission movies tend to be dense with plot that even the films’ creators don’t expect the viewer to fully retain. “I’m acutely aware of what I think you are and are not listening to,” McQuarrie told me. “I actually don’t rely on you to pay full attention. I kind of rely on you to drift in and out and get key things.”

McQuarrie began as a screenwriter: worshipful and intensely protective of the words on the page. But in time, and “as I started to understand my job as a director more, I started to understand, you got to let go of the word,” he said. Mission is made for massive global audiences. “Tom and I are talking all the time about the fact that every word you write is a word someone has to read in some part of the world. And that when they’re reading the subtitles, they’re actually not seeing the image. So my images have to tell the story and the words become music.”

McQuarrie had Hamilton cue up the sequence from the beginning and play it for me. “Good evening, Ethan,” intoned Angela Bassett, who plays the president of the United States in the film. Cruise silently watched a monitor as Bassett laid out his character’s history, where Hunt was now, and the stakes of his latest mission. Montages of destruction, nuclear warheads, scenes from past Missions played on the screen. “We’re motivating cuts based on specific words,” McQuarrie explained. “So even if you’ve tuned out, when you hear sacrifice, you might tune in for key words.”

The studio, Paramount, had recently screened Mission: Impossible—The Final Reckoning for a test audience in Paramus, New Jersey, a location chosen as a literal and cultural midpoint between London and Los Angeles. McQuarrie—unlike many directors, who fear getting feedback that might lead to the studio mandating changes to their film—loves a test screening. “Filmmakers are terrified,” he said, “and rightly so, because not all filmmakers have control of their movie.” But Cruise, who is also the lead producer on the Mission: Impossible franchise, has final cut. So they welcome the information, which they are then able to respond to as they see fit. In this case, audiences had been slightly confused by the mission brief, and so McQuarrie and Hamilton were trying to slow it down and leave them with the desired impression.

After McQuarrie played the sequence once for me, he turned and asked: “What did you take from what you just watched?”

I stammered out what I understood: “Artificial intelligence is trying to use nuclear stockpiles to destroy—”

McQuarrie gently cut me off. “Thanks. That’s all I need you to retain.”

Hamilton cued the scene again and they began going frame by frame, trying to make sure that the images were doing what they could not rely on the words to do. At one point, on a close-up of Cruise, McQuarrie asked Hamilton to pause the scene. “I don’t feel like he’s listening,” McQuarrie said, studying Cruise’s face. “I feel like he’s drifting.”

Hamilton, on another monitor, called up more footage from the scene. “So here now we enter the library of Tom Cruise’s reactions,” McQuarrie said. When this was originally shot, McQuarrie said, Cruise was listening to something else entirely. “It was completely different,” he said. “What we’ll do is, the camera will just drift and Tom will just interact with the camera. And he’ll give you this library of options because he knows full well it’s probably all going to get rewritten.”

Mission scripts are notorious for changing. “Tom likes to feel the film evolve, rather than have a set script and a schedule locked in,” Pegg told me. “It’s a very meta experience,” Erik Jendresen, who cowrote the last two, said. “Because as the screenwriter, me and Tom and Chris, we’re like the IMF team. We’re working under a ticking clock. The stakes couldn’t be any higher. And you’re needing to pivot constantly.” McQuarrie is sensitive to the impression this can leave. “We are not making it up as we go along,” he said. “But we are constantly pushing ourselves to make it better, to make it more immersive, more resonant, more engaging. We don’t trust that just because somebody says these lines on a piece of paper that you’re going to feel those things.”

But a lot can change in the pursuit of a feeling. One of the first things McQuarrie did when he joined the franchise, mid-production, on Ghost Protocol, was rewrite the entire backstory of a character named William Brandt, played by Jeremy Renner. The actor, who had already shot many of his scenes, was initially furious, according to McQuarrie. “Renner was saying, ‘I’m going to free-fall.’ He said to me, ‘But wait, I’ve been playing this whole other character.’ And I said, ‘But I watched all your dailies and all the emotions are the same. What motivated you in that scene doesn’t matter. The emotions you’re communicating are what matters.’ ”

Actors get used to it, McQuarrie said, but the learning curve can be harsh. “Once you start to see the results—Vanessa Kirby on Fallout, Rebecca Ferguson on Rogue Nation, they were all new to the process, and they were all in some way quite understandably destabilized,” McQuarrie said. “But then they see the beginning, middle, and an end. So when they come back for another movie, by the time Vanessa came back for Dead Reckoning, everything changed one day; we had an idea, we rewrote the scene that morning, and I said, ‘Look, I’m sorry, but you’ve got this big thing now.’ And she goes, ‘It’s Mission. I totally get it.’ ” Hayley Atwell, who joined the franchise on Dead Reckoning, told me that the “ever-changing, ever-expanding challenges” of doing things this way used the same muscles that she’d built, not in other movies, but in live theater.

Because of the constantly evolving nature of the Mission scripts, they usually shoot exposition in places they can return to—and not, for instance, on the top of a mountain. “Anytime you have big information scenes, anytime you have exposition, plot, you put them in small rooms, cars, phone booth, you put ’em into a place that you can easily repeat and go back to,” McQuarrie said, “because you’re always going to be changing the plot to accommodate the emotion, rather than the other way around.”

In the edit bay at McQuarrie’s home, Cruise’s face filled the screen in mid close-up, eyes darting, brow furrowing, head bobbing. Cruise is famous on Mission sets for knowing exactly where the frame is: He can indicate the top and bottom of a shot from 30 feet away. “See these very subtle movements he gives,” McQuarrie said. “He’s not doing a big thing. He knows the focal length of that lens and how much it picks up.” When a new actor joins the Mission: Impossible franchise, one of the first things McQuarrie does is sit them down and talk to them about lenses. “Now, when I’m directing Hayley Atwell,” McQuarrie said, “I don’t say, ‘I want your character to feel this, that, and the other thing.’ I point to the lens and say: ‘It’s a 75-millimeter.’ ”

Hamilton and McQuarrie started the scene again from the top. A few minutes later, McQuarrie’s phone rang and the letters TC appeared on the screen. “I’ll be back,” he said.

Before Mission: Impossible, before Tom Cruise, before he won a screenwriting Oscar at 26, McQuarrie was a security guard at a movie theater. “That was my film school,” he said. “I spent four years watching the audience. They were my focus group.” McQuarrie grew up in New Jersey and went to high school with the actor Ethan Hawke, the director Bryan Singer, and the musician James Murphy, of LCD Soundsystem. Because of this, a career in the arts never seemed all that far-fetched. “Bryan was always making movies. James was always making music. When Ethan got cast in Explorers, I was 14, Bryan was 16. James was 12. That made it real—that made it something that could happen. And frankly, it was more real to me than going to college.”

It was Singer who gave McQuarrie his first break in Hollywood when he commissioned McQuarrie to write what would become Singer’s first film, Public Access, in 1993. At the time, McQuarrie, who never did go to college, was doing odd jobs. Public Access screened at the Sundance Film Festival, and won a prize there, but the film never found a distributor. Then McQuarrie came back to Singer with an idea of his own, for a movie called The Usual Suspects, a film told primarily through the interrogation of a small-time criminal named Verbal Kint, played by Kevin Spacey, whose increasingly convoluted tale turns out to be—unbeknownst to his interrogator and the audience—an elaborate fiction.

McQuarrie wrote the first draft of The Usual Suspects in two weeks. The movie has an unorthodox structure; the film opens on the ending of the B-plot, about a group of criminals who are forced together to do a job, and then basically plays in reverse to hide the ending of the A-plot, the true identity of Verbal Kint, which is revealed in the film’s final frames. The end is the beginning is the end. “Suspects is pure structure, pure dialogue,” McQuarrie said. “It’s pure screenplay. Suspects is the rare example of a screenplay that is both readable and shootable. It’s also a script everyone in Hollywood passed on. Everyone. And it’s quite a fluke that the movie ever got made.”

There is an aphorism McQuarrie is fond of: “Writing is pushing a boulder up a mountain. Directing is running down the mountain with the boulder rolling after you.” In the decade after winning the best original screenplay Oscar for The Usual Suspects, he did a lot of pushing. “I thought the Oscar represented power that I could now make something that I wanted to make,” McQuarrie told me. “That wasn’t true. What it meant was I could get paid more money to write the movies they wanted. Nobody wanted my movies.”

McQuarrie had big ambitions and scripts of his own. But what he was actually doing was either joining ailing productions to help fix their scripts, or working in studio development, meaning he was being brought in to come up with ideas and treatments for projects conceived of by executives at various studios and production companies. In practice, very little of it ever saw the light of day. “I spent 10 years writing movies that were never going to get made,” McQuarrie said, “to finance the development of my scripts, which no one would ever make.”

In 2000, frustrated with his inability to make something of his own, McQuarrie wrote another crime film, The Way of the Gun, with plans to direct it, with Ryan Phillipe and Suspects actor Benicio Del Toro as his two leads. The Way of the Gun—about two bumbling criminals who abduct a surrogate mother and hold her and her unborn child for ransom—was deliberately antagonistic: It broke all the rules that McQuarrie had been forced to follow about sympathetic characters, about plot development, and about taking care of the audience, and when it came out, audiences summarily rejected it. “I directed an eight-and-a-half-million-dollar movie that I didn’t want to make,” McQuarrie said. “But it was my only opportunity. And I made it with both middle fingers extended, and the movie didn’t work, and the business said, ‘Thanks very much, that was your shot.’ And I was in director jail, and that’s where I remained for 12 years.”

While in director jail, McQuarrie worked on many movies, and was fired off of many movies. Screenwriting is a brutal business. “Writers, consciously or unconsciously, we are held in contempt,” McQuarrie said. “The movie can’t happen without us, but we are not why a movie happens. We’re not stars, we’re not directors. We’re the nerd at the party and we have the car. You’re not getting home without us. That breeds a kind of resentment.” McQuarrie even went so far as to quit the business at one point. But he was also developing a reputation as a troubleshooter and a fixer. (McQuarrie was once asked to write a script about the making of the Transcontinental Railroad, but for cheap, meaning, somehow, it would need to be shot inside, without showing all that much of the actual railroad—“And I figured out how to do it.”) McQuarrie, Pegg told me, “thrives with a problem. I think McQ loves a crisis more than he loves a blank page.”

What McQuarrie saw during his years in the wilderness were men and women—screenwriters, directors, producers—under duress, making unwise decisions, particularly on movies on the scale of Mission: Impossible. “A lot of these big tentpole movies,” McQuarrie told me, “how they work is you take a director who’s only made smaller films but has had success, and somebody does the math that says, ‘Hey, that person made a $5 million movie that made $50 million, now let’s give them $200 and they’ll make a billion.’ That’s actually not how it works. Because that person is leaping from an independent mindset into a massive commercial mindset without having had any education of the kind of movie they have to make at that number.”

McQuarrie began to notice patterns. Mistakes that were made, over and over again. Studios soon recognized this particular talent. Once, McQuarrie told me, in his capacity as a movie ER doctor, he was parachuted in on two separate films in distress, on which two totally different filmmakers both had an Apocalypse Now poster in their office. “And I said, ‘Let me tell you how to make Apocalypse Now. Let me help you because it’s so simple. First, make The Godfather, then make The Conversation, then make The Godfather Part II. Then take all of your personal capital and all of your professional capital and gamble that and your marriage and the life of your leading man and your sanity on a movie about a war that nobody wants to remember. And then spend years shooting it and put it in cinemas and no one will come and it will take decades before people recognize what it is. That’s how you make Apocalypse. Now let me tell you something: You’re not making Apocalypse Now.’ ”

(ARC NOTE: jesus fucking christ)

What McQuarrie would try to do instead was identify whatever the filmmaker had done that was unique to the genre or the franchise they were working on. Something that was their signature. And he would say, “ ‘That’s your stamp. Now you’ve got to make a billion dollars. Come with me if you want to live.’ And in both cases the directors did not listen. And in both cases the films were taken away from them. Other filmmakers came in and finished those films.” McQuarrie didn’t blame the directors. He blamed the system. “The problem is that they were given an opportunity, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity,” McQuarrie said, “before anybody sat down and educated them and said, ‘Listen, before you do this, here’s the reality of making movies like this. Are you sure you want to do it?’ And that’s what doesn’t happen. There’s not a system that educates those people.’ ”

McQuarrie knows this because he was one of those people. What changed that fact—and what got McQuarrie out of director jail and development hell—was Tom Cruise. McQuarrie and Cruise met in 2006, as Cruise was circling the lead role in Valkyrie, a movie about the failed assassination of Hitler that McQuarrie had written with the hope of being able to direct it. But Hollywood can be unforgiving. Singer, McQuarrie’s old classmate and collaborator, was also interested in directing the film, and so Singer—a more proven and financially successful filmmaker—became the director instead. (Singer has been accused of sexual assault in multiple lawsuits that were either settled or dismissed, and has maintained his innocence. He hasn’t directed a film since 2018. “My relationship with Bryan is pretty complex,” McQuarrie told me.) Cruise, according to McQuarrie, had two stipulations regarding Valkyrie. The first was that they spend more money on the film. “He said, ‘Guys, you’re blowing up the 10th Panzer division in the first 10 minutes of your movie; you need more money.’ And I said, ‘What’s the compromise?’ And Tom said, ‘There is no compromise. We’re making this movie. We’re going to make it for the widest audience possible. We’re going to make the most emotional version of this movie that we can.’ ”

The second stipulation was that McQuarrie, whom Cruise was growing to like and trust, join Valkyrie as a producer—a job he’d never done before. McQuarrie said yes anyway. “I went to work every day fully expecting to be fired,” he told me. He and Cruise are still working together 18 years later. “And it’s very important to point out that in between The Usual Suspects in ’95 and Valkyrie in 2006, a stack of movies this high, projects that I was called into rewrite, movies that never got made, not one piece of wisdom or applicable knowledge ever came from anyone in any of those meetings, ever,” McQuarrie said. “The truth of the matter is, other than what I brought to storytelling when I wrote The Usual Suspects, everything I learned about movies I learned by making movies with Tom.”

After Valkyrie, McQuarrie’s career was reborn. Suddenly, he was being brought on to write or help fix movies that were actually being produced: Edge of Tomorrow, World War Z, The Tourist, Rogue One, Top Gun: Maverick. In 2012, he directed Cruise in Jack Reacher; three years later, on the heels of doing the uncredited rewrite on Mission: Impossible—Ghost Protocol, McQuarrie became the director of 2015’s Mission: Impossible—Rogue Nation, after Cruise called the head of the studio and said that’s who he wanted in the chair.

Jerry Bruckheimer told me the secret to McQuarrie’s success in the latter half of his career was simple: “It’s because he loves it. He loves entertaining audiences. He loves big movies. You’ve got to love it. You bring in certain writers who want to write a big movie but don’t really care about it, you know, or understand what it is. They’re guessing.” McQuarrie is not guessing.

In London, over dinner, I asked McQuarrie to walk me through the making of a single stunt in the newest Mission: Impossible film. In Final Reckoning there is a sequence in which Cruise hangs from the side of a biplane, before leaping onto a second biplane, all in midair. An image from this scene is on the poster; pieces of it are in the film’s trailer. (This is the core of the Mission appeal: The thing the filmmakers care about most is the thing audiences care about most too. The movie is the marketing; the marketing is the movie.) The practice of going out onto the wing of a flying airplane is called wing walking, and that is who Cruise went to first: some wing walkers. “They said, ‘What do you want to do?’ ” McQuarrie told me. “And Tom said, ‘I want to be between the wings of the plane holding on to the tension wires, and I want to be in zero G between the wings.’ And wing walkers who do this for living said, ‘That will never happen. You can never do that.’ And Tom said, ‘All right, well, thank you very much for your time.’ ” And he and McQuarrie went and found some different wing walkers.

During the reporting of this article, I heard stories like this a lot. (Okay, one more: During the shooting of Fallout, McQuarrie told me, Cruise broke his ankle. “A doctor, a sports specialist, said to Tom, ‘It will be six months before you can walk. It’ll be nine months before you can run, if you ever run again.’ And Tom’s response was, ‘I don’t have time for that. I’ve got six weeks.’ And six weeks later, he was climbing Pulpit Rock on a shattered talus bone.”) If you’re wondering what Cruise has to say about all this, so was I. In time, I was invited to ask him a few questions via email. What makes Mission: Impossible…Mission: Impossible?, I wrote to him. Is it the process? The protagonist? The controlled chaos of the production? The stunts? The locations? The scale? “Dear Zach,” Cruise wrote back. “I don’t quite know how to answer this. Maybe it is all of these things and more.”

Mary Boulding, Mission’s first assistant director, told me Cruise has a saying on set: “Don’t be careful. Be competent.” So what the production did next, for the biplane sequence, was start building the stunt, piece by piece. They started with: Just get Cruise out on the wing. How far out could he get? How many G’s could he take once he was out there? “Now there’s a moment,” McQuarrie said, “where Tom’s laying across a cable and the plane goes into positive G’s, which means your whole body is being forced earthward. He’s laying on top of a cable, which means his organs are being pushed past either side of the cable. And if you go too far, the cable’s just going to cut you in half.”

It was at this point that I asked McQuarrie where his heart and mind typically were while shooting sequences like this one. During the A400 stunt, years ago, McQuarrie would sometimes black out from the stress as they waited to attempt it, he said. “If you want the summary, you’re the frog in the pan of water,” he told me. “You don’t realize the water’s boiling until you’re in it and it’s boiling. At which point you better figure out how to survive in boiling water or somebody’s going to be eating your legs and you develop a very thick skin.”

They decided to shoot the biplane sequence in South Africa, just after the rainy season there, because the land would be abundantly green. That also meant it was cold. “If the temperature changes two degrees Celsius, Tom will be hypothermic after 12 minutes on the wing,” McQuarrie said. Cruise had no radio in his ear. So he and McQuarrie, who shot the sequence from a helicopter that hovered so close to the plane that McQuarrie could read Cruise’s airspeed in the cockpit, devised a set of hand signals. “The wind is hitting him not only at the speed that the plane is flying but the wind coming off the propeller. It’s hitting him at well over a hundred-plus miles an hour.” At that speed, air is actually hard to breathe. “There were times when Tom would have to lay down on the wing to rest between takes,” McQuarrie said. “You can’t tell if he’s conscious or not. And unless Tom pats the top of his head”—their hand signal for stop —“it’s like, keep rolling.”

Cruise’s plane was also flying frighteningly low, McQuarrie said. “A plane flying at altitude, safely, is the most boring thing imaginable. You watch Top Gun: Maverick, the reason why we’re flying in that canyon, the reason why Star Wars flies in that canyon—planes are only cool when they’re flying low. No matter how fast they’re flying. Now in Top Gun, they were flying, at times, 50, 60 feet off the deck. When you’re in a biplane that can’t go Mach 2, you’ve got to go lower. The margin of error is zero. The power on these planes, they’re at full throttle, which means if there’s a downdraft or a thermal, there is no more oomph to get up. You go down and that’s it. I’m directly behind it. He goes down, I go down. Our crew goes down.”

In this way, over the years, McQuarrie has become kind of a stuntman too. Where Cruise goes, McQuarrie goes. Even in midair. “There is not enough room in this article for me to fully communicate and give justice to all of the things that Christopher McQuarrie is, does, and has done,” Cruise told me.

Despite the danger, McQuarrie seems to love the chaos of the life he’s fallen into. The bad luck, the broken bones, the close calls. “It’s weird how the content of these things mirrors the making of them,” Jendresen, the screenwriter, told me. McQuarrie encouraged me to rewatch the last scene of Mission: Impossible—Fallout, which they’d shot on film. Cruise’s Ethan Hunt, after his helicopter ordeal, awakens to find all his friends around his hospital bed. His whole body is in pain. “Don’t make me laugh,” he says, and then there is a flash of light, and the screen goes dark. Cue the Mission theme.

But that flash was not planned, McQuarrie told me. What you’re seeing is the most basic accident you can see on a film set. “There is nothing more Mission,” McQuarrie said, grinning, “than the camera rolling out of film on the last shot.”

(((THANK YOU ZACK BARON FOR THE BEST FUCKING PROFILE EVER HOLY SHIT))

[gingiesworld]

Ghost (4/?)

Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Teasing, Reader has a penis

18+ MINORS DNI

Taglist : @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic @dopeyouth @karsonromanoff @bimad @reginassweetheart @machyishere @gemz5 @pawiie @duckiekong @womenarehotsstuff @thatssomeplaygirlshit-blog @iz-a-mi (If you want to be added to my taglist, please DM me or comment)

Y/N had started to work on their cardio, going on walks with either Natasha or Peter whenever he was at the compound. Y/N sighed as they walked around the grounds, wanting to do something more than just walk, maybe even ease themselves back into running. 

"This sucks." They groaned, earning a chuckle from Natasha. "I hate walking so much." 

"I know, but you can't do anything more just yet. Besides, I don't think you would want Cho or Wanda on your ass." She told them, a smirk on her lips. "It's going to take a little time before you can get back to normal, but we have the facilities here to help you with that." 

"I just miss being out there. On missions." They told her. "I even miss the training and sparring." 

"You'll be back to all of that soon enough." She told them, patting their arm as they made their way back inside. "But until then, don't you have a date tomorrow night with Wanda?" She teased as she grabbed two bottles of water and throwing one to Y/N.

 "Yes, we do." They took a sip of water before continuing. "Wanda suggested Tony's party, but that didn't seem like the best place for a first date." 

"And how would you know that?" She raised a brow, leaning back against the fridge. 

"I have watched plenty of TV since being a bed monster." They informed her. "The amount of Rom Coms with the same basic storyline is sickening." Nat burst out into laughter as Y/N continued. "I honestly don't understand how people think that could be real? You know, for those movies I am thankful for not having TV privileges back at Hydra because those movies are torture enough."

"So, your date with Wanda?" Nat questioned once more after she had calmed down. 

"I'm taking her to this restaurant, it's a Sokovian establishment. I figure it would be nice for her to have something that resembles home for her." They told her. "You know, American food is vastly different to Sokovian." They rambled. 

"She will love that." Nat interrupted them. 

"Will it be enough?" They asked her, playing with the bottle in their hands. 

"It will be more than enough." She told them honestly. "I have got to meet with Fury and Hill, a possible upcoming mission." 

"Please take me with you." They pleaded with her. 

"Nope." She smiled as she walked out of the kitchen, leaving Y/N groaning as they leaned on the counter. 

"Walking took a lot out of you huh?" Her voice rang through their ears, making them smile before they even opened their eyes to find her green irises. 

"Not enough." They told her, a smile forming on their face as she stepped closer to them. "I just hate that I can't do more than just walk, I want to do more, I want to run, spar and do weights. I miss missions so much and I hate being stuck in this compound." 

"Well, then if you're going to be stuck here let's go and have some fun." She took their hand, a smirk on her face as she led them through the building towards her bedroom. She pushed them to sit on the bed as she closed the door, moving to straddle their lap, all thoughts suddenly escaped Y/N as her lips ghosted theirs. Wanda pressed her lips to theirs softly, her hands cupping their face as Y/N held her waist. The kiss deepened as Wanda pressed her hips down, making Y/N groan at the sensation. Wanda soon pushed them to lay down as she hovered over them, a smirk tugging at her lips as she leant down to kiss them once more, moving her hand to her nightstand and picking up the TV remote before she moved off of them, moving to sit with her back against the head rest. 

"What?" Y/N turned to face her, their eyes wide. "I thought we, you were just, we could." 

"You are not cleared for anything like that." Wanda told them with a chuckle. "And besides, I don't sleep with someone before the first date." 

"That is a dangerous game." They told her, moving to sit beside her as she flicked through the movies. "So, what are we watching?" They asked her, hoping for something that wasn't a Rom Com. 

"I was thinking Twilight." Wanda told them. "There's five movies, we could have a marathon. We could get all of the snacks and stuff and just stay locked away in here until tomorrow." 

"So, you want to spend the whole night together?" They asked her, turning to face her as she looked up at them. "Just the two of us?"

"Well, of course just the two of us." She answered them. "I guess I'm making up for lost time." 

"You know, I have been enjoying this, being here with you, Peter and the others." They spoke softly. "I remember sometimes what it was like to have a family, what it felt like to be one and I never thought I would ever feel that comfort again, that was until you." They reached over and caressed her cheek. "You reignited the hope that I thought I had lost." 

"Y/N." Wanda whispered as Y/N leaned their forehead against hers. "I do love you, so so much." 

"I love you more." They spoke barely above a whisper, pressing their lips against hers in a gentle kiss before Wanda moved to cuddle into their side.

--

Y/N and Wanda walked arm in arm towards the restaurant, enjoying the cool evening air and the quiet away from the compound. Wanda glanced over at them, a small smile taking place on her lips as she turned her attention ahead once more. 

"You really do look beautiful." Y/N spoke, breaking the silence, the two stopping their walk as Wanda turned to face them fully, never letting go of their hand. Y/N admired her in the red dress, it wasn't too tight, nor was it too loose, it fitted her perfectly. "Red is certainly your colour." 

"Thank you." She whispered shyly, not really used to being complimented. 

"Shall we?" Y/N gestured towards the restaurant, watching as Wanda's eyes lit up. 

"You brought me here?" She questioned, tilting her head slightly as her heart beat quickened. 

"I did." Y/N nodded nervously. "To be honest, I have no idea what I am doing here, I only know what you see in those movies and sometimes that seems to be a little bit unrealistic." 

"This is amazing, Y/N." She told them, stepping closer to them. "And all I want is for you to be you, and as for the dates, they don't always have to be like this, even the simple dates are the best ones, movie nights and cuddles are most definitely one of my favourites." She leaned up and pecked their lips before the two headed inside. Wanda had ordered for both of them, as Y/N didn't really understand the menu. Wanda wiped her mouth after taking the last sip of her water, watching as Y/N finished their Paprikash. "You know, I never really understood how we both got here." She told them, watching as their eyes met hers. "You know, especially with who we both were, when we first met." 

"Wanda, out of all of the decisions I have made, helping you and your brother is my greatest one by far." They reached over and took her hand. "You both shown me that there was more to life than what I was trained to believe, you gave me a purpose in this life and I am extremely fortunate to have a chance to see where this goes." They pointed between the two of them. "We are both completely different people to when we first met, but our hearts are still the same." Wanda nodded with a smile, her heart swelling in her chest as they flagged down the waiter for the check. 

The walk back to the compound was peaceful, Wanda remained impossibly close to them as they walked arm in arm. As they got closer to the compound, they could hear the music from the party. 

"Is this what all Stark parties are like?" Y/N questioned as the music got louder with every step. 

"It is." Wanda nodded. "But Tony does know how to make everyone have fun." 

"So, you like these parties?" They teased, a smirk on their lips. "I would have thought you would have been the loner type, always sat brooding in the dark." 

"Hey, I don't brood." She swatted their arm, the two chuckling as they continued on their way. "But, I do have a bit of a wild side." 

"A wild side, huh?" They raised their brow, Wanda a step ahead as she turned to face them. "Will I get to see this wild side of yours?" They asked as they pulled her closer to them, their hands resting on her hips. 

"Maybe one day." She reached up and wrapped her arms around their neck, leaning in slightly. "But as of right now, you can't do anything too strenuous." With that she stepped away and headed inside the compound, Y/N soon followed behind her with a groan. Natasha was the first person to notice them, waving them both over to the bar. 

"Hey, how was your date?" She asked the two of them, ordering a couple of drinks for the two. 

"It was lovely." Wanda continued to tell Nat about the date, Y/N sipped on their drink as they looked around the party, their eyes soon catching Peter stood in the corner glancing at his watch. 

"Hey, Pete." They greeted him as they approached, watching as he smiled at them. 

"I was wondering when you were arriving. Mr Stark told me that you might not turn up because you had some business to take care of and you've been working yourself with your rehab. But I knew you would!" He beamed as he hugged them. "How has rehab been going?" He asked them. 

"Slow. Too slow." They groaned, leaning against the wall beside him. "I hate being human. It sucks." 

"You know, being Spiderman isn't all that it's cracked up to be." He told them quietly, Y/N burst into laughter. 

"You heal quicker than me." They told him. "I am just a puny human." They imitated Thor, causing the two to burst into laughter. "Anyways, how have you Spidey escapades been?" They asked him quietly. 

"Quiet lately." He told them. "Just mostly wannabe gangs and muggings right now. It's like all of the crime bosses have just disappeared." 

"But that gives you more time for school, or training maybe?" They asked him, watching as he nodded. 

"Yeah, maybe we can both train together sometime?" He asked them, a hopeful glint in his eyes. 

"I would like that." They agreed easily. Wanda's eyes soon found Y/N, stood and conversing with Peter, a smile growing on her face as she watched the two. Nat soon followed her gaze, a smirk on her face as she turned to Wanda. 

"I think you may have some competition for Y/N." She teased the witch, Wanda just shook her head with a laugh. 

"They see him as their brother." She told her quietly, her heart aching at the thought of their childhood, well their lost childhood. "They're finally healing after years of pain and trauma, they finally have that chance to be happy, have the life that they've craved since they were young." 

"They lost their younger brother, right?" Nat questioned, remembering a small conversation she shared with them. 

"Yeah, Hydra the night they came for them." She answered her, her eyes never leaving Y/N who was being dragged towards the empty pool table by the teenager. "They're finally living their life, they're not some expendable agent anymore. They can finally have a family." 

"Is that what you see for you and Y/N?" Nat asked her. "Do you see yourself having a family with them?" She questioned. 

"I did, when we were in Hydra together." Wanda answered honestly. "Then I thought they had died, then I guess that dream died with them." 

"What about now? Now that they're here and with you." Nat pressed on. 

"I don't know, we're still getting to know the new us." She told her honestly. "I do love them with everything in me, I really do but I can't think of what I see for the future, not when they can be taken away from me at any given time." With that, Wanda left to join Y/N and Peter, latching onto Y/N's arm as the two played pool. She couldn't help but smile as the two trash talked each other, or tried to distract the other. 

"Come on, Wanda help me out here?" Peter begged as Y/N was on the black ball. Wanda smirked as she wrapped her arm around their waist, leaning to whisper in their ear. 

"Did I tell you how good your ass looks in these trousers." She husked out, her hand moving to grip onto their cheek, giving it a squeeze and earning a yelp from them as they lunged forward, just nudging the cue ball with the cue. 

"Hey! That's not fair!" They yelled as they pointed between the two of them. "Wanda's supposed to be on my side." Peter soon potted the last stripe and was on the black. 

"Well, it sucks to be you." Peter shrugged as he potted the black, watching as Y/N just shook their head. The rest of the evening went by smoothly, although as the party was still going, Y/N had decided to retire to their bedroom, already done with socialising for a lifetime. 

"Hey." Wanda's voice sounded from behind them, the door closing with a soft click. "I had a really great time tonight." She stepped forward as Y/N turned to face her, their shirt halfway unbuttoned. "I really did enjoy myself, I always enjoy my time with you." Y/N couldn't help but smile as they stepped closer to her, their hands reaching for her own. 

"So, my company's not half bad huh?" They teased, wrapping their arms around her waist and pulling her flush against them. 

"It's not entirely insufferable." She shot back, a smirk on her face as they just smiled at her, her arms wrapping around their neck as she gazed into their eyes. 

"I love you." Y/N whispered, their lips soon ghosting hers. 

"I love you too." She replied, pushing her lips on theirs in a soft kiss. "Can I stay here with you? And maybe steal a shirt and some boxers?" 

"Of course." They smiled, kissing her once more before they disappeared to their closet, getting the clothes out for the two of them, allowing Wanda to use the bathroom first. The two were soon lay in bed, sleep overcoming the two of them. 

"Come on O'pa!"  A small boys voice sounded, followed by laughter and screams as they chased him. They soon tripped over their own feet, turning over to lay on their back, soon being jumped on by two small boys who's laughter filled the air. 

"Come on now, let your O'pa get up." She told the twins, walking towards the three of them. "You boys go and wash up before dinner." She ushered the two inside, a silver streak left behind the twins as she groaned. "They know they shouldn't use their powers around the house." She held her hand out for them to take. 

"Yeah, but it's not the kid's fault he's faster than the rest of us." They told her, a knowing smirk on their face. "He's exactly like his Uncle, and Billy is just as amazing as his mother." They reached to cup her cheek, she closed her eyes for a moment. 

"Y/N?" She gasped when she opened her eyes, their face was pale and blood spilling from their mouth. Her eyes soon followed down to their chest, watching as a metal beam was impaled in their chest. "No, this can't, not again. I can't." She watched as they soon gurgled, she had stepped back away from them, their hand reaching out for her as they took a step. 

"Wanda." They choked out, more blood spilling from their mouth. "Wanda." 

Wanda jolted awake, sweat covering her body as Y/N sat up, hesitantly watching her every move. Watching her as she tried to catch her breath, she soon turned to face them, already finding their eyes on her. 

"You were having a night mare." They told her nervously. "I tried to wake you, but you were well gone." 

"I'm sorry." She whispered, her breath still shaky as she leaned into them, they instantly wrapped their arms around her.

"Don't apologise, love." They spoke tenderly, moving to lay them both down, her head resting on her chest. 

"Don't leave me." She whispered shakily, Y/N had never seen her so vulnerable. "I can't survive if you leave me." 

"I'm not going anywhere." They told her, pressing a light kiss to her head. "I am going to be right here by your side, for as long as you'll have me." 

"Forever?" She asked, looking up into their eyes. 

"Forever." They kissed her softly before she nestled into them, listening to their steady heartbeat as she soon started to drift off to sleep once more. 

[solradguy]

I wish we had more lore from Aria's perspective instead of Sol's/Frederick's nostalgia-tinted perspective. Thinking about it tonight, I realized that it's possible Aria didn't actually romantically love Frederick as much as he loved her, and that she maybe wanted to stay something like close friends with him even before she knew she was terminally ill.

Most of the lore we have with Aria is her either playfully picking on him, arguing with him, or turning him down. But nearly all of it is through flashback sequences via Sol, so it's tinted by that perspective and it's possible he's only focusing on the negative parts or things that he wished had gone differently. We know that she turned down his marriage proposal and he got turned into a Gear before they had a chance to talk things through or whatever, but it seems like Aria knew by then that she was either not going to live much longer or that the Gear cell project was being redirected towards military uses and that the world was going to get worse soon, so that doesn't tell us much.

On the other hand, we can probably assume that they slept together at least once because Dizzy is only a half-Gear. When Frederick finally finds out that Aria is terminally ill, she's worried about him being alone after she dies and asks him to promise her that he won't be. Which feels like she's begging him to not put a hold on his life because she won't be there anymore. During that argument she says this to him though: "Don't be so selfish. Try and listen to someone else, for once."

This is tough and really nuanced. She does care (a LOT) and is aware of how Frederick gets caught up on things and is bad at moving on, but it still also feels like a lot of dialog between the two is her trying to keep a little distance between them...

[spidybaby]

A Kylian angst where he’s mentioning the ideas of babies BUT NOT MARRIAGE with you….

"Mauro, look at the moon." You say to the baby. "It's so shiny, don't you think, amor?"

Mauro giggle, smiling at you. You love babysitting for Carvajal and Daphne. Their kids are the best kids you ever met.

"Martín, do you want some dinner?" You ask, entering the house.

He nods, looking at you. "Porfi." He smiles. "Kylian and I want mac and cheese." He says, happy.

"Yummy!" Kylian says, tickling the four year old belly. "Please, amour."

You nod, with Mauro still on your arms. You went to the kitchen to take the ingredients out, not before making sure Daphne has Mac and cheese in the allowed list of food for the kids.

Walk back to where Kylian is, handing him the baby. You don't want to cook with him in your arms and risk him.

You can hear the kids laughing at something Kylian said. As much as you want to deny it, you love the laughs and the fun times with babies.

But you loved it more when you could give it back to their parents whenever they were throwing a tantrum or being difficult.

You really like helping friends with being the baby sitter, you love kids, and they love you. But you don't feel like you need kids in your life

You can't lie that when you were a little girl, you thought that you would have at least three babies.

But that's not real, you want to archive more before even think about marriage, let alone the kids.

Maybe you can be just engaged, but if that's not the case, you don't want to bring a baby to something that might become complicated.

Obviously, there are all possibilities, and a marriage doesn't mean that you'll be together forever.

But, you like to think think that it makes it a little bit more serious. So, you follow what your grandma told you < first the ring, then the marriage and then the baby in a carriage >

"Dinner is ready!" You call, placing the plates on the table.

You grab Mauro from Kylian's arms, placing him on your lap.

"Smells amazing." Martin says, happy to see the food in front of him. "Thank you!"

You love the scene, Kylian helping with Mauro, Martin talking about something, you can picture this in your future with him.

You finish the food, Kylian helped you with picking the table up while you help the kids wash their hands.

"Daph texted me that they will be back in about an hour." You say, checking your phone. "So, who wants to watch a movie?" You ask Martin.

Mauro was drinking his bottle, eyes about to close. You have him in your arms, cuddling him while you pick a movie that's appropriate for Martin.

Kylian is watching you sweet talk Mauro, he loves to see you cuddling up the baby to sleep, reassuring him that when he wakes up his mom will be there.

You feel a kiss on top of your head, you look up to kind Kylian smiling at you. "Hi." You smile.

"Kyky, we are watching transformers." Martin says.

"I know, buddy." Kylian smiles, picking him up and giving him a quick kiss on the hair. "I love transformers."

You watch only a little bit of the movie because of the sleepy kid who lays on Kylian's arms. "Well, that was easy." He laughs.

You take a picture of the four of you, sending it to Daphne, updating her on what is going on with the kids.

You two stayed on the same spot, waiting for Daphne and Daniel to come pick the kids. You two talked about a plan you have.

When they get there, you give their babies to them. They thank you for the favor, hugging you and making small talk.

"When you have yours, I'll promise I'm going to babysit as much as you want." Daphne says, smiling at you. "You are just the best, Mauro has been very difficult to put down."

"I think the best part of babysitting is getting the nice side of kids." You laugh, making her laugh. "But don't worry, Kylian and I are not having any baby soon." You smile.

"That's what I said, then Martin came along." She points at where Daniel and Kylian are. "We both wanted to wait more, maybe a year or two, but our plans changed the moment I got the positive."

You look back at where Kylian is, he still has Martin on his arms. You love how he looks. "You two have an amazing family." You say to her. "But I have a lot of things that I want to do before having kids."

"Then do them first, because kids take a lot of time and a lot of attention."

You carefully hug her. "Drive safe, love you guys."

"Love you too, thank you for doing this."

You both say goodbye to them, entering back into the house. You feel Kylian's arms around you as you try to place the dishes back into their place.

"We had an amazing night." He says, kissing your neck.

"I know, I love spending time with those kiddos." You turn, hugging him. "You are so cute with them."

"I can't wait for us to have our own." He says, hiding his face on your neck, giving your skin a kiss.

You don't say anything, you don't want to ruin the mood. You just hug him tightly, giving him a kiss on the side of his head.

✨️✨️✨️

"Lana, the desserts is for after dinner, baby." You say, taking the cookies away from the girl.

You can see the pout of sadness that was on her face as she walks back to Kylian. She talks to him in french and points at you.

Kylian gets up from the couch, walking over to you. You already know what is about to happen, so you take the plate away from his reach.

"No, Kylian!" You say, pushing his hand away from the plate. "This is for after dinner."

"But she wants one." He argues back. "Plus, dinner is not ready yet."

"No," you say in a stern tone. "I've been cooking for almost two hours. If you give her the cookie, she would not be hungry."

He rolls his eyes. "Then let me give her half." He says, trying to reach the plate again.

You shake your head no, moving somewhere else with the plate still on your hands. "Go back to your game." You say.

Kylian scoffs, going back to the living room where he and Isaiah are playing. He hugs Lana, whispering something in her ear to calm her down.

You sigh, you hate being the bad guy but no cookies until after dinner. You worked so hard on the food that Kylian begged you to prepare, and you are not up for letting them full themselves on cookies.

Dinner was ready twenty minutes later, you serve all the plates for Kylian, the kids and you. You call them when everything is ready.

"Can I have a cookie now?" Lana asks, sitting at the table.

You just smile, looking over at Kylian for him to answer to her. You give him a small no with your head, letting him know that it was not an option.

"Sure, bébé." He smiles, getting up and walking over to where the cookies are. "Here."

You are speechless, he was giving her what he wanted and disrespecting you in the way. You stayed quiet, not wanting to create a scene in front of the kids.

You eat in silence, hearing the kids talk about paw patrol and their little games. You can't help but want to smash a cookie on Kylian's forehead.

You finish your food, excusing yourself. You were about to leave when Isaiah talks to you. "Y/n, are you going to eat dessert with us?"

You nod, "I'm just going to get my charger, baby." You lie, walking over to your bag and grabbing the charger. "Here it is."

Kylian tries to grab your hand as you sit back next to him, you move it, pretending to grab your phone to check on some messages.

He knows he was wrong by giving her way to Lana, but he wanted his niece to have a good time while with him.

"Guys, I'm going to go to my room and rest. I'm tired." You say after finishing your cookie. "You can keep playing with Uncle Kylian."

You blow them both a kiss, walking outside of the kitchen, picking the magazine you left on the table next to your bag.

You walk upstairs and into the shared room with your boyfriend. You start reading your magazine, hearing how the kids are playing downstairs.

You stayed in your room for the rest of the night, you even changed into your pijamas, did your skincare, and brushed your teeth.

You hear the door of the room closing, kylian walks inside the bathroom, looking at you while seating on the edge of the bathtub.

"You okay?" He asks.

You nod, not wanting to fight over something that you already calmed down for. "I am, are you taking a shower?"

"Oui." He answers. "If you are okay, why did you leave?"

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. "I was tired, making dinner, baking the cookies, being disrespected by my boyfriend." You say, not even caring anymore. "Anyways, goodnight."

You walk to your bed, getting the covers out of the way for you to lay down. You notice Kylian walling to your side of the bed, a frown on his face.

"Being disrespected?" He asks. "How?"

You shrug. "Oh, you know." You fake a smile. "Giving Lana a cookie even when I told you not to."

"Oh, that again?" He asks, wiping his face with a towel. "It was a cookie, get over it."

"Over it?" You ask in disbelief, "Kylian, that was wrong, and it was in front of the kids!"

He rolls his eyes. "I'm sure it's okay for them to have a cookie here and there before dinner. Lana respects you a lot, she was just feeling like having something sweet. Peux-tu te calmer?"

"I am calm, but that was rude, and I think I deserve an apology."

He groans but gives in. "You are right, I'm really sorry I put you in that position in front of the kids."

You nod. "Thank you, now go shower before bed." You say. Turning the lamp on your nightstand off.

He can't help but chuckle. "Our kids will get as much cookies as they want, just saying." He says, walking to the bathroom.

"No, they don't." You say, head on the pillow. "Because if you do, you'll be grounded too."

He laughs, walking back to you. He gives you a kiss on the shoulder. "You can't ground me, I'm going to look ridiculous in front of the kids."

You smirk. "Well, don't run amour." You smile. "Let's walk the altar stairs first, and then we can talk about if you'll be grounded or not."

He gives you another kiss and walks back to the bathroom. "I want a girl, maybe not with your attitude." He then closes the door when he sees you turn your face to him. "Go to sleep."

"Maybe a boy too." He yells from the bathroom.

"Okay, put a ring on my finger and we can talk."

"I can't hear you!" He yells, laughing.

☁️☁️☁️

"Your hand is cold."

"I know, it was the drink I was holding." You say, squishing his hand. "Do you have the list?" You ask him, pulling him towards the aisle.

"We need strawberries, bananas, peaches, carrots."

"Why don't we start with the things that don't need refrigeration! That way, we can take as much as we want."

You walk with him, letting him place everything inside the car as you mark the things you have already inside the car.

"I want this." He shows you a box of turrones, a Spanish dessert. "Can we have this?"

"I mean, if you want to, bébé." You smile, pitching his cheek. "I need pads and some wipes, so I'll be in the next aisle." You say, leaving the shopping car with him.

You walk over to the pads section, picking your choice. Quickly moving to where the wipes are. You know better than to leave Kylian alone in the candy aisle.

But you can't be blamed when you find a mother and a beautiful baby in the same aisle, especially when the same baby waves at you.

"Oh, hola!" You smile. "You are so cute." The mother and you acknowledge each other. "You have the cutest baby in the world. Look at this cheeks."

You don't notice Kylian walking behind you. He sees you giving all your attention to the baby, feeling his baby fever going crazy.

"I got the turron," He announces, making himself present. "Who's this beautiful girl?" He asks, passing one arm around your waist.

"Isn't she gorgeous?" You ask him. "What's her name?"

"Estrella." The mother says, moving the baby hand as she giggles. "Say goodbye baby, nice meeting you."

"So beautiful." You smile. "It was so nice meeting this gorgeous girl and you. Have a nice day."

Kylian and you wave them goodbye. You turn back to pick the wipes, not noticing how he was looking at the baby clothes in the aisle.

"If we have a boy, what would you name him?" He asks, picking a small pijama set. "I would like to keep the k."

You turn, noticing the scene. "Keeping the initial seems cute. What about Kai?"

"Kai Mbappe?" He frowns, thinking about it. "Maybe the k can be skipped." He laughs.

"What about Carter but with a K."

"We aren't the Kardashians." He laughs.

"We just need the veggies and fruits, and we are done." You tap his nose. "You can pick the K-arrot. With a K for you."

He walks behind you, still thinking about the baby situation. He goes online to the Nike page, looking at the cute baby sneakers that would match the one you two have.

"What if we take the frozen bananas instead of the normal ones."

"Look at this baby shoes."

"Why are you looking at that?" You ask, grabbing the frozen fruit. "I'm taking the banana."

"You can even personalize them."

"You know what else you can personalize?" You ask, passing him a bag of strawberries. "The band on a wedding ring." You smile.

He frowns. "Why would I want to know that?"

"So when you get me mine, maybe you can write something cute." You smile, pushing the car again. "Let's pay and go, that novela we see starts in half an hour."

🫧🫧🫧

"Hey Jude," you greeted the British boy. "How's life?"

"It's been good, now come in. We have all the drinks you can think, but don't drink reposado it's rubbish."

"I'll try, thanks, Judey."

"And Kylian is fighting to Tchou about the Lakers or something." He giggles.

You thank him, walking to find your boyfriend. He was right there, a slice of pizza in one hand, and the other one was the one he's using to smack his friends head.

You walk over, saying hi to everybody. Kylian hids you, giving you a kiss on the head. "Can you get me a soda, please?" You ask Kylian.

He nods, giving you a peck. You stay with Eduardo and Tchoameni, you love them both, they turned into really good friends of yours.

"So, my dear mademoiselle." Eduardo says, hitting Tchou in the shoulder. "We heard the news."

You look at them confused. "What news?" You ask, thinking maybe Kylian told them something he wanted to surprise you with.

"Don't be shy, we are happy for Kylian and for you." Tchou hugs you. "You are going to have the cutest baby ever!"

"Yeah, plus if it's a boy, we are going to teach him how to ball, how to dribble, even how to score the best goals."

You are so confused by all of that. "Guys, I'm not pregnant." You laugh.

They look between each other, thinking that maybe they spoiled something or that maybe you want to be the one telling everybody.

"We are so sorry." Eduardo says.

"Yeah, we didn't mean to ruin the announcement. If it makes you feel better, we find out because of the shoes Kylian ordered."

"Shoes?" You ask, confused. You then think about the grocery shop, how he was showing you these cute baby Nike shoes. "A pair of Nike baby shoes?"

"Oui!" They both say.

"That and you are not drinking."

"I'm taking medicine. I'm not pregnant, " you explain, still shocked at the situation. "I'll go look for Kylian."

You walk to where he is, waiting patiently for the bartender to hand him the glass of soda. He looks at you and smiles.

"Sorry, they are looking for the sprite. Apparently they only have coke."

"Can we talk?" You ask, ignoring his words. "It's important."

He nods, not thinking this was something bad or anything that needed him to be worried. "Let's go upstairs, Jude won't mind."

You walk with him, hand in hand. You enter one of the rooms, knocking to see if there is anybody inside.

"Are you oka-"

"You got the baby shoes?" You interrupt.

He doesn't lie, he just nods. There's no point in lying when it's no big deal for him.

"They have this cute < Mbappe > gold engraving that will look so cute with a baby madrid jersey."

You take a few seconds to react, trying to catch everything he just said. A baby madrid jersey, small engraving with his last name.

"There's one problem." You point, trying to execute it right. "I'm not pregnant, nor I plan to be."

"I mean, of course you are not." He laughs. "But we've been talking about it, we even find that beautiful baby girl in the store. We have practice with my nephew and niece-"

"Pause your horse, Kylian." You say. You lift your hand so he can see it. "What can you see on my hand?"

He doesn't understand the purpose, but he answers. "You have a fresh set of nails and that's it?" He asks, confused.

"Exactly, want to know what's missing?" You ask him, making him nod. "A wedding band and engagement ring. Two things I need before thinking about having children."

He rolls his eyes. "Putain, are you still with that idea?" He asks, tired of you mentioning weddings. "Why do we need a paper to have a child? You love me, I love you, done."

"No, not done." You say, starting to get mad at him. "I don't want to be introduced as < oh, this is Kylian's baby mother >, I would appreciate < oh, this is Kylian's wife and mother of his children >, you see the difference?"

"Not really." He sighs. "We've been together for more than four years. I think it's safe to say that we are unbreakable. A baby will make us so happy."

You nod, knowing that this is a battle you won't win tonight. "Well, a wedding will make me happy. I'm sure that after that we can discuss as many kids as you want."

You walk to the door, not feeling like staying in the room or even at the party.

"Why can't you just forget about that?" He asks, making you pause at the door. "I'm not leaving, you have me. A kid won't make me scared."

"It's not about that." You sigh, tired of the topic. "I love you, but since the day we started daiting, I've dreamed about how our engament would be, how I wanted my dress, and what song we were going to dance. I don't want to skip that just to land into the baby island."

"Well I want to." He says, getting closer to you. "I'll give you time to mourn the idea of a princess wedding. I really want kids with you, and I'm not up for waiting until I'm thirty."

You are the one who's about to be left alone in the room. "What do you mean you are going to let me mourn the idea?" You ask, mad at him.

He turns to you, eyes tired. "I mean that we can go downstairs, have some fun time with our friend. Then we can talk about nursery ideas, names, I can even show you the shoes. But I won't be losing my time with ring picking, cake testing, and dress fittings."

You nod, understanding his point. You aren't going to fight it.

"Don't worry," you smile. "You don't have to worry about dresses, cakes, or flowers." You say, walking over to the door.

You open the door, making your way out of the room. You take a pause before moving to the stairs, walking back to the room.

Kylian is on his phone, he's checking a message. In his mind he won. You will have an awesome time and then go home to create a Pinterest board of baby stuffs.

"Kylian." You call him.

"Oui, bébé?" He asks, smiling.

"Don't worry about all the wedding things or baby stuff." You smile, feeling like your heart is aching. "Also, don't worry about me. I'll pick up my things while you are training. That way, you don't have to worry about moving stuff."

He frowns. "Quoi?"

"I'm done here." You say, feeling a tear scape your eye. You take one last look at him, knowing this is hurting you more than it will hurt him. "Don't worry, I'll give you time to mour the idea."

[thesirencove]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ NEAL CAFFREY X FEM!READER & SPENCER REID X EX!READER -- THE FLIP SIDE OF ILLICIT AFFAIRS

hi y'all ! my apologies for the wait on this one . this semester came in and really pulled the rug out from under me . my classes were much harder than expected (damn you gen chem 2 & microecon) and i got hit with a wave of writer's block on top of it :') BUT i'm getting my degree so yay to that !! apologies if any of the characters seem out of character (especially spencer lol) , i kinda let my creative liberty go wild with this one .

to anon , i am so sorry for the long wait on this one . i hope that the longer word count and care i put into this fic to make it perfect will make up for it 💓

my requests at this moment are closed as i get to other requests and finish up finals . i'll make an announcement when they're open again , which will hopefully be soon as i'm starting to see the light at the end of the cave again :) i hope you've all been doing well , and enjoy !

neal caffrey x fem!reader (romantic) ; spencer reid x ex!reader

summary: when someone from the past enters her life again , neal is the rock she needs as she relives the time when everything came crashing down years ago . based on this request !

warnings: angst, mentions of heartbreak, mentions of a rocky relationship, mentions of cheating, probably ooc spencer reid!!!!!, asshole spencer, mentions of serial killers & murder (and in general what the bau does), death (off-page), hotch is like a dad to y/n, maybe ooc hotch??, as minimal as possible use of y/n in the fic, probably also ooc aaron hotcher, lowkey no closure?? reader is honestly vibing but reid is not lol, spencer is a dick

word count: 10.8k

winters in new york were always brutal. snow was piled across the streets. snowflakes floated down, sticking to her cheeks and eyelashes. her lips were blue and cracked from how cold and drying the weather was. the roads were so icy it was a miracle if she hadn’t fallen on her ass at least once on her way to the office. 

there was a lingering sense of coldness that stayed with her, even once safely inside the FBI building. the heat radiating from the HVAC system wasn’t fast or warm enough to make anyone feel like they’d completely escaped the freezing weather outdoors. slipping into the elevator, she pressed the button for the 19th floor, bouncing on the balls of her feet, hoping the movement would help get some feeling back into her toes. the elevator came to a stop, followed by a ding as the doors creaked open. she walked out, turning towards the glass doors that separated the white collar office from the elevators. she smiled through them at her friend, diana, who was sitting on the further end of the room. pushing the doors open, she walked towards her desk as she took the long, insulated puffer jacket off her shoulders, keeping her fleece trench coat on for the time being. 

looking up towards peter’s office, she noticed neal standing there, talking to peter. there was a case file in peter’s hand, and though neal had his back turned towards her, his shoulders slightly tense. he was good at hiding his tells, but after knowing him for the past three years and dating him for two, she picked up on little things like that. her eyebrows furrowed, wondering what was happening in that office. 

it wasn’t long before neal exited the office, his shoulders rigid. peter sighed, calling diana over. neal stalked towards y/n, a smile adorning his face despite the clear frustration he held within him.

“hey, love, everything okay?” she asked, her left hand moving to grab onto his arm and rub it soothingly. 

“yeah, come get coffee with me at the cart?” he looked at the elevators, eyeing them in a way that made her wonder on what he was waiting to hop out of those doors. 

usually, she’d complain about not wanting to go outside again after having just gotten out of the cold. her toes were finally regaining feeling, too. but something in her stirred to go with neal, to figure out what was running through his head. she knew it had to do something with the case file peter had in his hand. 

so instead of whining about the cold, she simply pulled her long puffed jacket off the back of her chair and reaching to intertwine her hand with neal’s. 

it didn’t take long before they made it to the coffee cart, and she was still freezing, but the warmth radiating from neal’s body helped. they got their coffees and began to slowly walk back to the office. she noticed neal wasn’t in as much of a rush to get back as he was to initially leave the building. 

“is everything okay, neal?” she asked, turning her head to look at him. 

they both stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. she was faced towards him, and neal still stood ready to walk back towards the office. he sighed, looking at the ground for a second before picking his head back up and facing her. 

“the most recent case peter got involves a murder,” he started.

“okay? neal, you know i’m used to that. i used to work at-”

“the BAU office in quantico, i know. that’s the thing.” 

it clicked the second he said “that’s the thing.” she eyed him in confusion, still not fully sure if he was alluding to what she assumed. 

“are you trying to tell me that my old team is going to be here to work on the case with us?” she asked, not wanting to tip-toe around the subject any further. neal nodded, eyeing her with a look that said, “i’m sorry,” and, “i tried to convince peter otherwise.” 

it had been three years since she left the BAU, leaving behind her life in quantico to start a job in a new field here in new york. going from solving cases about serial killers to hunting down white collar criminals was a switch, but it was one she needed. she’d adjusted to her new job quite easily, quickly becoming part of the white collar family. she lost one family, but gained another, and she wouldn’t change things. maybe once she would have, at the very start. now, there’s no chance in hell she’d give up neal. 

“it’s okay,” she said, finally, after what felt like eons of silence, “i was bound to see them again someday anyways, no?” 

she smiled up at neal, rising to her tip-toes to press a kiss to his lips. her nose hit his in the process, which was freezing cold, making her shiver. 

“c’mon,” she started, “let’s get going back to the office. we need to get briefed on the new case.” 

she slipped her hand in his, coffee warm in her other hand, and once again began walking back towards the office. she began telling him about a funny conversation she’d overheard in a coffee shop the other day. neal listened intently, commenting every so often. but in his head, he was thinking about her reaction to her old team coming to work on the case with them. he was surprised at how cool she was about this, but he also knew she’d been healed for a while. she was secure, safe in her relationship with neal. happy with him. they both were. 

she had been a wreck when she first moved to new york. cases with the bau were mentally taxing, but she always had an escape in her team. they were her closest friends and family at the time. and once, long ago, spencer was who she perceived as the love of her life. she’d fallen for the hair, the smile, the eyes that sparkled every time he spewed random facts that no one would know, except for him. she’d fallen for everything about him. at one point, before everything fell apart, she even thought he’d be her husband. 

· · three years ago · ·

her keys jangled in her hand as she fumbled with the lock, trying to get the door to the apartment open. she had stayed overnight at the bau office, working on reports to get to hotch. she wanted to have them all done, so wouldn’t have to do them later on top of the next pile of reports sent her way. the hallway was dim, the overhead lights slowly dying. some were flickering. others were already out. 

she finally got the door open, sighing with relief when she felt the handle twist. the cool air from inside hit her face, and she could smell one of her mahogany candles burning. she smiled, closing the door behind her and hanging her jacket on the hooks near the door. 

“spencer!” she called out, not seeing him in the kitchen or living room. 

she faintly heard the words, “i have to go, she’s home,” coming from her and spencer’s shared bedroom. she wondered who he could possibly be on the phone with this late. he came out from the room, a small smile on his face. she held her arms out, and he enveloped her in a hug. she wasn’t sure if it was her mind running rampant with the one sentence she’d heard him say, or if something was truly different, but the hug didn’t feel as tight or warm as usual. 

“who was that on the phone with you?” she asked, pulling away from the hug and looking up at him. something shifted slightly in his face. panic, guilt. it wasn’t a shift she wanted to see.

“oh, that was just morgan. got back from a date and wanted to tell me about it,” he answered, voice flat. 

she smiled at him, slipping out of his arms and towards their bedroom. she was tired, and he was lying. she had said goodbye to morgan on her way out of the office. it couldn’t have been him on the phone, it was virtually impossible that he’d gone on a date and called spencer to tell him about it within the thirty minutes it took her to get home. she could tear him a new one right now. tell him to stop lying, to tell her who it really was. instead, she kept herself calm, slowly getting ready for bed. brushing her hair, braiding it, then brushing her teeth. she started her skincare routine now. 

“i assume he had a good date? they usually go well,” she laughed at the last sentence. it took every ounce of strength she had to cover the bitterness in her voice. 

“yeah,” spencer responded, “i think he really likes her. he was even talking about taking her on another date.”

she didn’t respond, merely nodding as she put her pajamas on, a matching set. they were adorned with various teddy bears, some with pink bows and others in blue t-shirts. walking out of the bathroom and back into their bedroom, she pulled the covers off her side of the bed and hid herself into the warmth of the blankets. spencer walked behind her, moving to his side and doing the same. 

“night, spence,” she whispered, turning the lamp light off and curling into herself. 

“goodnight,” he muttered back. there was no, “my love,” or “sweetheart.” there was simply “goodnight” and that was it. 

she feigned sleep as her thoughts ran wild in her head. she hated the fact spencer was lying to her. she hated that she was too tired to do anything about it, wanting to push it away as nothing. wanting to protect herself with the lies she convinced herself were real – he wasn’t doing anything, he was talking to her mother, or a friend, he was planning a surprise and didn’t want to spoil it. over and over in her head, she came up with every possibility she could pretend was real.

she thought back to what the past few months have been like. the bau has been swamped with cases, a new one coming in back to back with the others. it had been nonstop flying and solving serial killings. the lack of affection between her and spencer recently hadn’t posed any red flags until now. she just assumed they were both tired, overworked. 

three hours after she first climbed into bed, she knew spencer was asleep. slowly pushing herself up, she got out of bed, tip toeing to spencer’s side of the bed. she felt like shit doing this, never wanting to become this kind of girlfriend. the one who has a hunch her boyfriend is cheating and goes through his phone. still, she needed to know. she couldn’t let herself stay if he was going to leave. she picked his phone up, looking through the call logs. her eyebrows furrowed as she saw there was nothing recent. she put his phone back down, checking to make sure he was still asleep. he had barely moved, his breathing shallow as he slept. 

instead of getting back in bed, she pulled the drawers open, shuffling through them quietly. looking for a burner phone, for any sign of his infidelity. she decided to slip her hand beneath the cabinet, knowing there was no harm in at least looking. it was then that she felt a small, hard block carefully placed on a wooden ledge that jutted towards the center of the cabinet. she pulled it out, turning the phone on. a slew of messages appeared on the screen.

i miss you

i had fun talking to you last night

i want to meet up soon

what about your girlfriend?

she doesn’t matter to me. you do.

i love you.

each and every word on the screen blended together, tears forming in her eyes. she could barely read the messages as her vision blurred. she checked the call logs, and her heart plummeted when she saw just how often spencer had been talking with this girl. maeve, according to the contact name and the few times spencer mentioned her name in conversation. she scrolled and scrolled and scrolled, trying to figure out just how long this had been going on for. the first call had been six months ago. 

she nearly threw up. bile burned the back of her throat as she held a hand over her mouth, trying not to make any noise. she stood up, her knees wobbling slightly, and tip toed to her side of the bed again. she took the burner phone with her, picking up her own phone and snapping as many pictures as she could of the messages, the calls, everything. the thoughts that ran through her head as she did it were so loud that she could feel her head start to hurt. she put the burner phone back in its place, taking her phone with her to the bathroom. she locked the door behind her. 

the moment the lock clicked, her legs gave out. she slid to the floor, her back pressing against the vanity sink. opposite her was the bathroom closet, the doors made of mahogany. she traced the patterning on the wood with her eyes. everything she’d just read was too much, she couldn’t properly process it. she felt weird for not being able to shed any more tears than she did when she first found the messages.

spencer was cheating on her. how could he cheat on her? what happened to the sweet boy she once knew? the one who would bring her a pain au chocolat in the mornings, knowing she often skipped out on breakfast. the one who would leave flowers on her desk. the one who would stick cute messages adorned with a smiley face and heart on the mirror in the mornings for her to see. she wasn’t sure what happened along the way to change things this drastically, to distance him from her to the point he resorted to… this. to illicit affairs. 

what the hell is she supposed to do now? pack a bag of things, and leave? penelope would take her in. emily or jj would, too. hell, any of the members of her team would take her in right now. they weren’t just coworkers, they were her family. she recalled the time she first joined the team. from the jump, hotch treated her like a daughter. it was a tough job, and it’s not like he babied her. and yet, the fondness he had for her was unlike any other. the dad who raised her might’ve been hundreds of miles away, but she still had a dad in quantico.

she couldn’t bear to work with spencer anymore, she knew that for sure. but she also knew spencer was a pinnacle asset to the team. she was, too, sure, but he was the one with the eidetic memory. there was no fair comparison, in her mind. she would have to be the one to leave. 

she put her hands on the floor, the soft bristles of the plush, white rug on the floor digging into her hands, shivering as she felt part of her palm slip onto the tile. she took a second, closing her eyes, breathing, before pushing herself up to standing. pushing her ear to the door, listening for any movement outside, she tried to figure out if spencer had woken up. she was met with soft snores, and knew he was still asleep. 

she opened the bathroom closet door as quietly as she could, pulling out her go-bag and a second bag to put some of her stuff in. anything she couldn’t fit she would just pick up later. or maybe she’d just ask one of the team members to get it for her later. 

her heart was pounding, nearly tearing through her chest, as she tiptoed around their shared bedroom, carefully taking her favorite clothing pieces and the essentials, then making her way back to the bathroom and quietly packing everything in there. it was truly a miracle that spencer hadn’t stirred the whole time, sleeping like it’d been ages since he last slept a full night. 

yeah, no shit, he’s been fucking around with another woman for months, she thought to herself. 

once everything was packed, she carefully slipped out of the bathroom, picking up her phone and keys. she was out of the bedroom and entered the main room. it was an open floor plan, with the kitchen opening up into their little living room. her shoes were by the door, and her coat was still resting on the hook she placed it on. she took a glance at the sight in front of her. it was dark, and she could barely see anything, but the moonlight shone into the room enough for her to take it all in. the couch they sat on night after night, watching their favorite show. the countertop in the kitchen they’d have breakfast in. the little trinkets she’d set up in every corner she could. 

all of it, all of the love she poured into everything, for what? 

and with that last glance, feeling her heart break as a lump formed in her throat, she gripped her bags tighter, and walked to the door. she put her shoes on quickly, pressing one hand against the wall as she bent to the side and used the other to get the shoe over her heel. her go bag was slung over her right shoulder, second bag in the left hand as she twisted the door handle. it creaked, causing her to wince at the sound. still, she left as quickly as possible, running down the hallway of their apartment building as quickly as possible, glancing over her shoulder as she did so. 

her teddy bear pajamas clung to her body as she ran, thinking about how stupid she probably looked. each flight of stairs she took went faster and faster, whipping past her eyeline and making her slightly dizzy. though, the dizziness was likely also a side-effect of all the feelings spinning in her head. 

once she reached the ground floor, concrete hard on her feet through the shoes as she jumped the last three steps, she pulled her keys out of the side of her go bag, immediately unlocking her car as she ran to it. the lights flashed red and yellow, and for a split second she worried she’d break the door with how hard she pulled it open. the bags were thrown on her passenger seat as she slid into the seat. closing the door, she clicked the lock button, car beeping, and brought the engine to life. 

in mere minutes, her relationship with spencer had fallen apart. she packed her bags and ran from him. ran from everything. she couldn’t bear to be in that room, to sleep next to him for one more night. she simply needed out.

pulling onto the road, she didn’t know what to do. should she just leave? never look back, find somewhere else to go and make a life for herself there? does she go to garcia’s and spend the night there? what would happen tomorrow, when she went to work and spencer asked her where half her things went? when he asked why she left in the middle of the night?

she found herself sitting in her car, outside of hotch’s apartment. she wasn’t sure why, or how she really got here. she just drove and drove, and suddenly came to a stop here. the rough plan at the moment was to knock on his door, tell him she’s resigning, and figure out a department to transfer to. somewhere far away, preferably. she turned her keys in the ignition, turning the car off and making her way to hotch’s door. she wasn’t sure what she’d say, or if it was stupid for her to be here, but this is where she ended up. outside her work-dad’s door. he’d know what to do, right? 

for fuck’s sake, you’re an FBI agent and you can’t even figure out what to do about your boyfriend cheating on you, she thought to herself, raising her hand to knock on his door. after a few seconds, she heard the flick of a light switch and saw light flood in beneath the door. the quiet thudding of feet against floorboards could be heard, and in seconds the door was open. hotch stood before her in plaid blue pajama pants and a plain white t-shirt. 

she opened her mouth to say something, but instead she lost any ability to speak. her face crumpled, and she began sobbing, falling into hotch. his face contorted into worry as he caught her, holding her up. 

“i’m sorry,” she whispered between sobs. 

hotch shushed her, rubbing his hand against her shoulder. he pulled her into the apartment, locking the door behind them, and set her on the couch. she wiped the tears beneath her eyes, sniffling hard as she felt snot start to come out of her nose. a box of tissues was placed on the table in front of her, and she immediately took hold of them. hotch waited until she had calmed down enough to speak before saying anything.

“what happened?” he asked, his usually stoic demeanor shattered at the state of her. 

“he cheated on me. he’s been cheating on me, for months now.” she wasn’t sure what to say, but she told him everything. what she heard him saying on the phone, the lie he told about morgan that made her suspicious, the burner phone she found underneath the bedside table. she even went as far as pulling her own phone, handing it to hotch open to all the pictures of the messages she found. she watched as hotch’s expression became angrier and angrier. 

“in all my years in the bau, and knowing spencer, this is one thing i did not see coming,” he said, his voice harsh when he uttered spencer’s name. she laughed bitterly in response.

“you think you’re shocked, imagine being his girlfriend.”

they were quiet for a few seconds, both gathering their thoughts.

“what do you want to do?” hotch asked her.

“i don’t know. all i know is i can’t work with him anymore.”

“okay. it won’t be difficult to get another department to take him, but–”

“no, hotch. i have to be the one to leave. i can’t stay in the bau, stay in this city, knowing i could run into him at any moment. i can’t stay here, knowing that each time i sit at my desk, i’ll remember him sitting across from me. i can’t walk past the coffee shop i go to every morning knowing that my memories of him are there. i just can’t,” she told him, her voice pleading. 

hotch nodded. he understood her. he’d want her to stay. hell, in an ideal situation none of this would be happening. but it is happening, and he knows that if it were him in her place, he’d want out, too. he stayed silent, thinking where he could transfer her to. he knew she’d want to go far away, but selfishly he wanted it to be somewhere close enough that he could still come visit the girl that became like his daughter. 

he knew exactly where to send her. it’d be entirely different from the work the bau did, but it’d still be good. hell, he could even say it’d be fun, in a way. and there was a good challenge for her there, a criminal consultant that would keep her head running at all times. it was the kind of job that was perfect for her. plus, he knew peter burke pretty well, and he knew that she’d be safe with him there. peter knew that she was like hotch’s daughter, and peter himself was the kind of guy to treat his fellow agents like family. yeah, the white collar unit would be perfect. 

“there’s a job available. it’s in new york,” he held his finger up when she opened her mouth to protest the location, “i know you want somewhere further away, but i think you’ll fall in love with it. trust me. the white collar department is looking for a new agent. they have a criminal consultant, which could be an interesting addition for you,” hotch continued speaking, and she listened, but let her mind drift ever so slightly.

she liked the prospect of going to new york. the white collar department was drastically different from the bau, and she actually quite liked that. it wouldn’t be as horrific as looking at dead bodies daily, and maybe even slightly less dangerous than getting kidnapped by a serial killer who had a liking for women who looked like her. 

“i’ll take it,” she said in the middle of one of hotch’s sentences. he smiled lightly, nodding at her. 

they spent the rest of the night talking, figuring out the transfer. he, of course, had papers on hand for her to sign and sent a message to special agent peter burke about the transfer. at 7:03am on the dot, they got a response from peter. 

great! can’t wait to meet her. the earlier she can start, the better, but the latest would be monday the fifteenth.

that was 10 days away. she decided she’d leave earlier. hotch promised he’d have her stuff sent to her new apartment there, once she got one. he sent another message to peter, asking for apartment rental information and letting him know that she’d be there earlier. 

hotch and peter texted back and forth for a while, and she got impatient, trying to glance at the screen. she was able to see a few messages, where hotch mentioned the reason for her transfer. in another message, peter said that he and his wife would be happy to take her in for a few days as she hunts for apartments. she was wary about it, not wanting to intrude or become an inconvenience. still, it was better than paying for a hotel room until she found an apartment. i’ll find a place to live within the first week there, that way i’m not being too much of a burden for too long, she told herself.

this was it. in one night, her entire life had fallen apart. she left her boyfriend. she quit her job, and found a new one. she was leaving her closest family, and going somewhere completely different. hotch took her into a hug, savoring the last few moments they’d have together. sure, he’d visit, maybe, but this was goodbye for the time being. he made her promise to text and call, and to keep him updated on everything in new york. she swore to it. 

leaving hotch’s apartment, she was a new woman. she turned on her phone, sending spencer a quick message before blocking him. i know about maeve. we’re over. don’t try contacting me ever again. hotch will get my stuff for me in the next few days. fuck you. 

just a few hours ago, she was terrified about what would happen next. now, she sat in her car, ready to drive to new york. she was excited. the heartbreak wouldn’t leave her, not for a while. she’d cry and wish things were different and wonder to herself what went wrong. she’d think about what was wrong with her that made spencer want to cheat on her. she’d wish she’d have stayed for one more day, just so she could’ve smacked spencer square in the face. but now there was a needle and thread in the form of the white collar unit in new york, and it was ready to stitch together the broken pieces of her heart. 

· · present time · ·

“love? hello? where did you go?” neal said, waving his hand in front of her face. they were stood outside the white collar building now. 

“sorry, sorry. i was thinking,” she said, frowning slightly. 

she felt stupid for having been quiet for so long. neal only smiled, giving her a quick kiss. 

“hey, it’s okay. you don’t have to say sorry,” he said.

he squeezed her hand, a silent message that he’d be here the whole time. that she didn’t have to worry about anything, that he’d understand. he was good to her in that way. he was good to her in many ways, but something that especially stood out was how patient he was with her. since the start of their relationship, he’d been incredibly patient with her. not only considering the job she once had, as a bau agent, but how things ended there. he never wanted to treat her the same way. he never would treat her the same way. she didn’t know, but he silently promised to himself that he’d change her outlook on love entirely. that he’d help her be unafraid to not just be in love but to fall into it, and keep falling. he kept that promise, fulfilling it every single day. 

the two of them walked inside the building, making their way up the elevator, back to the office. on the ride up, they talked about their dinner plans tonight. they were planning on having a little gathering, the two of them with mozzie, peter, and elizabeth. she laughed about their previous mini dinner party, which ended with mozzie getting so drunk he started reciting a random shakespeare play. hand in hand, they pushed the door open to the office, her in the middle of laughing about the memory. neal smiled at her so brightly that his cheeks hurt. anyone looking at them could tell that he was infatuated with her. he wasn’t just in love with her. he was completely consumed by her existence. 

that killed spencer. he was standing at the top of the stairs, near peter’s office, arms crossed as he stared at his former love. her laugh was one that no one could forget, causing him to turn immediately when he heard it flutter into the conference slash makeshift interrogation room. he immediately clocked neal’s hand intertwined with hers, and the pain in his chest was palpable at the sight. it pissed him off, quite frankly. morgan appeared behind him, tapping him and then motioning to get back in the room. when spencer didn’t move, morgan spoke.

“you were the one who fucked up, man. you cheated on her, not the other way around. now get back in the room and do your damn job,” he said, his voice short, full of distaste. 

the events of three years ago were a sensitive spot for the bau. spencer was the one who made her leave so abruptly, without so much as a goodbye – other than a few texts and calls after she’d settled into new york – and it made everyone angry. she was family to the bau, and losing her was difficult. it was even more frustrating knowing that spencer was the cause of it. all because he was a dumbfuck who couldn’t keep it in his pants. he may have a high iq, but he was a fucking dumbass in the eyes of love. there was a huge bandaid over the situations, and tensions had almost fully resolved over the years, but being here – seeing her again – had made things hard for everyone again. it was all a reminder of just how badly spencer had screwed up. 

spencer finally moved, walking back into the room. peter kept shooting daggers at him, and diana looked like she was ready to murder him right then and there. and then cover it up. she looked like the type of woman who would get away with murdering him, even if she had an audience. he took a deep breath, bending over the table to look over the case files. they were talking about the murder, it was the third of a string of them that had been happening in art galleries around the city. each time, an artist that had their art on display had been killed, their body left on the floor next to a wall where their art once hung. in place of the piece of art they’d created was a message, different each time. 

as they looked over the cases, there was a shift in the room, and spencer immediately knew why. he turned, looking at the woman he once loved. she held a coffee cup in her hand, the spout stained with lipstick. neal caffrey stood behind her, his arm ghosting around her back, hand resting on her waist. his eyes narrowed ever so slightly at spencer before quickly returning to an unbothered expression. 

neal quickly flashed a smile, so charming it made spencer feel sick. 

“neal caffrey, it’s lovely to meet you all,” he said, looking around the room.

“hi, guys,” she said, still attached to neal’s side. 

she didn’t want to tear away from him. it felt safer, being near him. her heart still beat rapidly, but the warmth that neal’s body radiated helped calm her. it quelled her nerves enough that she was able to say her small “hi” without her voice quivering. his hand was still attached to her waist, gripping it tight, but not to the point that he was hurting her. just enough to make it clear that she was his and he was hers, and that no one – especially spencer – should dare make a false move towards her. 

penelope was the first to break, a smile adorning her face as she ran from her computer to envelop her old friend in a hug. neal expertly took the coffee she held out of her hand, so that it wouldn’t drop or spill as she returned the hug. 

“i missed you so much!” they both squealed at the same time, causing them to break out into laughs. they smiled, gripping each others’ arms and jumping around in a circle. it’d been years since she and garcia had seen one another in person, and it was a moment that was long overdue, no matter if it was technically considered unprofessional. 

hotch was next to give her a hug, followed by emily and jj and morgan. spencer was the only one who stood still, as though his shoes were superglued to the ground. his eyes flicked back and forth from neal to the girl he’d hurt so long ago. 

after the slew of hugs she received, she looked towards spencer, only giving him a small smile, before returning to neal’s side. she took her coffee from him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, before getting onto the case. spencer thought of the smile she gave him, and like every other thing about her, it haunted him. there was no emotion in the smile towards him. it was a simple gesture, acknowledging his existence but nothing more. 

she brushed him off so quickly, immediately getting to work, that it gave him whiplash. he looked at neal, who was looking at him with a glint in his eyes that was clearly distaste. just a second later, neal was called over by y/n, asking him about one of the art exhibits where blood of a victim had been found. the way neal effortlessly spoke about the era and art annoyed spencer. he was the one who knew everything. what could a criminal out on a consulting deal really know? especially compared to a guy with an iq of 187. 

neal’s arm brushed against hers, making her look at him, smiling. this smile was different – full, bright, happy. it was unlike the one she gave spencer, and that killed him. he had done the damage, and here he was, years later, reaping the consequences of his actions. 

his feet finally moved, unsticking from the position he was previously in. he stood near morgan, listening to hotch provide further details that peter’s team didn’t have. hotch gave a rough profile they’d created on the flight to new york, noting it wasn’t official – but could give a good baseline for what they needed to look into. 

“morgan, spencer, i need you two to go down to the morgue. go over the details of the murders with the coroner, and report back to me. jj, coordinate with law enforcement and the media. no details about this case are to be released as of now. garcia, i need you to stay here and dig up information about the victims we don’t currently have. i want to know about any paths that could have crossed, especially in their careers. emily and rossi, we’ll head down to the most recent crime scene,” hotch said, voice firm. 

each bau member scattered, now that their assignments. spencer lingered ever so slightly, watching y/n nodding along as peter coordinated his team. morgan elbowed him, harder than he used to years ago. it was a subtle shift after everything that happened, but a shift nonetheless. still, he never complained, knowing it could have been worse for him. he’s lucky to still have some form of a relationship intact with his team members. 

· · 3 hours later · ·

in the three hours since assignments had been given, spencer and morgan found out that the killer had left behind extra clues in the form of rolled up pieces of paper left on the victims’ bodies. not only that, the team had identified a solid suspect and another body had been dropped. 

the victim fit all the others, and this time the message left behind was just one word: “betrayal,” painted in blood. and yet again, there was blood left in an exhibit with art from an older era.

they all stood around the table in the conference room – except for penelope, who was working on a loose lead hotch thought up in peter’s office – looking towards a clear whiteboard, detailing each piece of the case they’d put together in an attempt to solve it. 

“the pattern is accelerating,” y/n said, moving towards the board, “look. we have four bodies now. the first was found ten weeks ago. the second four weeks ago. the third just a week ago, and now the fourth. something made him want to go faster, but what?” 

they knew the unsub had likely been triggered by something, leading to the sudden shift in the timeline. they spit balled ideas, reasons for the acceleration. neal provided insight on each of the exhibits where blood was spontaneously left. the first time it happened, the police thought it was an accident. now, with four victims, they knew it was part of his MO. 

“did penelope find any connection between the victims?” neal asked, looking intently at the board.

solving a murder was new for him. he was used to asking mozzie to check who fenced a piece. he was used to finding out who stole and sold a priceless piece of art that part of him wished he had. he was used to pushing down his habit of planning how he would steal a piece of art or a statue that was worth millions. still, the puzzle pieces in his brain were shifting, and he was happy to have the challenge. he noticed a pattern within them, he just needed to be sure. 

“they’re all art majors, though each specialized in a completely different style and era of art. one thing that stood out was that they all went to the same university at one point, all taking the most of the same slew of classes that were required for art majors,” emily summarized, remembering what garcia told her she found. 

“can you tell me what era each victim specialized in?” neal said, moving towards the table to rearrange some extra pictures that hadn’t fit on the board. the crime scenes, with the pictures of each message left behind, and the exhibit where blood had been left behind. he just had a hunch…

“uh, yeah, hold on,” emily said, finding the file that held each victim’s university transcript. once she had it, she spoke again.

“carl jenkins – victim one – focused on the baroque era. violet emerson – victim two – had a background in romanticism. dawn hollis – victim three – was an expert on the renaissance, and vincent dryden – our most recent victim – focused on neoclassism.”

“ok, wait – yes. hold on… yeah, i think i’ve got something. look at the art of each of the victims. it’s completely different from what they studied when they were in school. jenkins’ did abstract, emerson had clear fauvist inspiration, hollis did pop art, and dryden’s art was influenced by the romantic era. and look,” neal explained, almost frantic. 

he pulled out photos of the messages left behind at each crime scene. 

“each note the killer left behind has something to do with betrayal. the most recent, of course, being the literal word itself,” he said. 

“you’re right,” y/n muttered, moving closer to him and inspecting the pattern he layed out between the photos.

“what if it’s about them deviating from the art they studied?” emily pointed out, before continuing, “maybe the killer stayed within the style he studied, but never got as far as the victims did, with exhibits in galleries. now he’s getting revenge for the success he never got. can garcia cross-reference the victims with anyone who crossed paths with all of them? other students, teachers, people who tried to get their art into the same galleries.”

“yeah, hold on,” y/n said, running into peter’s office to get the theory to her. 

within seconds, penelope found a name, a professor that every victim had for a renaissance art history class. there were countless records of applications he’d made to galleries throughout the city, each and every one of them refusing him. there was a notes section on each, explaining the refusal. some left nothing, others claimed his style was simply not what they were looking for. it was too outdated, and they’d rather have pieces from the true renaissance than from an artist of this decade. 

“his name is connor hayes, let me get you his address,” garcia blurted, writing the information she found down as quickly as possible before also sending the gps location to hotch.

the flurry of activity in the office surged the moment his name and address were found. garcia also ended up sending the location of his office at the university he worked at to the team, as a secondary location to check. some agents were on the phone with police and swat, others running to the elevators and even stairs to get down as quickly as possible. sirens and blue and red lights filled the streets as they sped to find the man who had already killed so many budding artists. 

the team found him at his home, with the names and pictures of various other students he was planning on killing. he had an entire board on his wall, connected by red string and pins. the words “TRAITOR” and “BETRAYAL” were splayed over the pictures in red ink. the victims who had been killed had their faces crossed out, while one picture had a circle over the student’s face. likely who he planned would be his next victim. they even found a box hidden in his closet, filled with his trophies from the victims – vials of their blood. 

neal stood outside, watching as forensics went in and out of hayes’ house, the numerous police officers and FBI agents gathering evidence for conviction. he watched as connor hayes was packed into the back of a police car, taken away to live the rest of his life rotting in jail. neal wondered how someone could do something like that. he could barely pick up a gun, hating them as much as he did, and yet here he was, in such close proximity to someone who had killed four people. 

“don’t think too hard about it,” y/n said, startling him out of his thoughts.

“what?” neal asked, now looking at her. he was amazed at himself over the fact that, despite standing in the middle of a crime scene where a serial killer had just been apprehended, he was in awe of how beautiful his girlfriend was. it was like the entire world simply drifted away, and it was just the two of them now. that was the effect she had on him. 

“the why. you can do countless interviews with these monsters, understand the psychology behind it, hell you could even get the reasoning behind it from the killers themselves. still, you’ll never fully understand how they could do something like that,” she told him as she squinted at the scene before them.

“am i truly that transparent that you knew exactly what i was thinking?” neal replied, smiling at her.

“nah, i just read minds,” she said, grinning up at him. 

she lifted herself up to her tip toes, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. she grabbed his hand, squeezing it once. she told him that she’d check with hotch if the two of them were needed for anything more, letting go and walking inside the house to find out where hotch had gone. she had been standing in the serial killer’s living room when she spotted hotch a few rooms away, being able to see him in the kitchen thanks to the open floor plan the guy had. 

“so, you chose a criminal over me?” a voice said from behind her. 

she turned to the origin of the voice, and lo and behold, spencer reid stood right in front of her. the question he asked only partly registered in her head. 

“what?” she asked, trying to keep calm. she could feel herself beginning to see red just at the fact he had the audacity to speak to her with anything other than apology for what he’d done. 

“neal caffrey, your new boyfriend. he’s a criminal, no? i mean, he’s a criminal consultant, and walks around with a fancy ankle monitor. and if i remember correctly, which of course i do, he was convicted of bond forgery and spent four years in prison. so what in god’s name are you doing with the likes of him?” he sneered at her, clearly trying to insinuate she had downgraded.

the look on his face pissed her off. she’d been done with spencer the moment she left after finding out he’d been cheating on her for months. the way his brows furrowed as if he were holier than thou temporarily made her want to put his head through the wall. she only became more angry when she realized his dig at neal. 

she’d fallen in love with neal within a year of them knowing each other. he may have been a criminal, but he was the best thing that had ever happened to her. through his charming and sly exterior, he’s been an absolute dream. he was kind, and thoughtful. even on the coldest days, if she’d forgotten her coat, he’d give her his. even if he was already freezing, any indication she was cold would mean his coat was being shrugged off and pulled over her shoulders. if she mentioned wanting to see a movie, the next morning there’d be two tickets sitting on their dining table, with a little note from neal telling her to get ready for their date night. sometimes they’d get home from the office at different times, and she couldn’t count how often she would come home to flowers from neal, or he would bring home a bouquet for her. every worry of hers was quelled the second he’d come into the room, and he was so incredibly patient with her when she’d first come to new york. 

she came to him broken and battered from the bau, and he’d sat meticulously gluing back together each and every piece. even the ones that most people would deem too tiny to keep, and would throw away – he kept. he pieced her back together and takes care to keep her that way. he loves her more fully than she’s ever been loved before, and she loved him just as much. spencer standing in front of her, all smug, trying to say that neal is a bad guy just because he went to prison once is honestly infuriating. 

“what exactly are you trying to say, spencer? because if you’re trying to make it seem like neal is a bad guy because he used to dabble in forgery, you’re way out of your league. who’s the one who decided to cheat on me for six months with a girl over the phone? here’s a hint, in case you can’t remember, it wasn’t neal. and let’s be real, he helped out more on this case than you did. he may be a criminal, spencer, but he’s more honest than you’ll ever be,” she seethed. 

“is there a problem here?” neal said, wrapping his arm expertly around her. 

neither she nor spencer were sure when he’d entered the room, but she was glad he was here. she could’ve stood here, alone, and knocked down anything spencer would have said to her for as long as she needed to. and yet, having neal here calmed the frustration in her heart. 

“not anymore,” she responded, leaning into his touch. her eyes narrowed at him, mouth contorting into a frown. 

spencer searched for words, but he couldn’t find any. he’d been told by every member of the bau that the only thing he should say to her is a heartfelt apology. he’d been haunted by his actions, by her for years. and yet, seeing her with neal, seeing how happy she was, it annoyed him. there was a part of him, though he wouldn’t admit it, that wished she’d come back to him as easily as she’d left. the moment he set his eyes on neal, on her wrapped in his arms when they walked into the office, he knew that wasn’t going to happen. he knew there was no chance in hell she’d come back to him. he knew that, in the end, he’d be sitting in his apartment, looking at her facebook for the third time in the day and find pictures of them on their wedding day. he screwed up the second he started speaking to maeve, and yet he was angry at her for moving on. it killed him. 

“did you talk to hotch yet?” neal said, turning his attention to y/n. she shook her head no, and he nodded, pulling her along to go talk to him.

“what a man, you’re not going to defend yourself or your girlfriend?” spencer spat out, his mouth working faster than his brain. the guilty part of his brain wanted to take it back.

“i know she can handle herself. she already did. i’m not sure why you’re looking for a fight, but if you want one that badly, i can promise you’ll be the one on a stretcher,” neal said, giving spencer a cold stare before leaving the room. 

by the time her confrontation with spencer had ended, hotch had moved to another room. they were wrapping things up, and the forensics specialists were the only ones needed to finish everything. hotch told them that they would all get going soon. he only asked neal to look over some evidence they’d found that was art related, which neal was quick to help with. 

back at the office, neal and y/n helped peter fill out some paperwork for the case they’d just work on. he told them to go home, to rest, but they wanted to help. plus, they knew it meant there’d be less work to do tomorrow. the bau had gathered their things, and they were ready to leave. the only thing left was to say their goodbyes. 

“please stay in touch, and promise me we’ll get together soon,” penelope said through choked tears, holding onto her best friend.

“i promise,” y/n said, hugging penelope tight enough that it almost looked like she was afraid this was the last time she’d see her. 

in some way, it was true. she was worried that their jobs and lives would interfere so often that they’d never get to see each other again. and yet, she also knew that they’d see each other again. there was no doubt in her mind that they’d see each other again within a few months, and giggle over coffee about the most recent juicy drama they’d heard. and there were always phone calls and texts, which would keep them connected while they waited to see each other again. 

emily and jj made her promise to keep in touch, too. the four of them, emily, jj, penelope, and y/n/, made a solemn vow to have a getaway trip together sometime soon. a nice, warm getaway to the caribbean sounded wonderful to all of them. especially considering just how cold this winter had been. 

rossi and morgan made her swear to keep in touch. rossi made the promise of making his extra special pasta, just for her, if she ever visited. it was an offer she couldn’t pass up, and she made a note in her head to go just for some pasta. 

“promise me you won’t stop writing, kiddo,” hotch said to her, his hand on her shoulder. 

she nodded, tears causing her throat to close up. she whispered a very quiet, “i promise” before enveloping him in a hug. everything she had now, the life she made for herself, the healthy relationship she was in – she had hotch to thank. it was because of him that she managed to start fresh after what happened with spencer. it was because of him barely hesitating when she said she needed to leave the bau, because she just couldn’t bare to work there anymore, that she’d landed at the white collar unit with peter. it was because of him that she crossed paths with neal, and was now in the happiest place she could be. all of what had happened, she had hotch to thank for. the man who became the closest person she had to a father when she was living in quantico, was the man she had to thank for everything working out the way it should have.

her slew of tears were inevitable. she’d been trying too hard to keep it contained, to only shed a few, and yet she still broke. they were more than just her friends. they were her family. it had been difficult to leave them years ago, and it was difficult to watch them go now. she knew that this wouldn’t be the last time they’d see each other – there would be other cases to help out on or they’d all get together when they had vacation. even then, it was hard watching someone leave. the human brain is incapable of deciphering the different kinds of grief. it’s all one and the same to the brain, so even though she knew they’d be back, her brain already begun to grieve them, and the tears were pouring. 

spencer stood off to the side, waiting for them to all finish. he wondered what things would be like, if he wasn’t an idiot. or if he wasn’t a complete asshole to her earlier. he wished that she’d forgive him, but he knew he didn’t deserve that. not after what he’d said to her. not after what he’d done all those years ago. he’d been reaping the consequences, not only with her leaving but with maeve dying not long after y/n left. he had everything, and then he blinked, and it was all gone. 

so instead, he turns around and leaves, knowing that he is undeserving of anything from her. 

· · ✮ · ·

neal was sitting on the couch of the space june rented out for him, a space that slowly became home for him and y/n. his legs were outstretched onto the coffee table, a book in his hand. from his periphery, on the right side, he could see her walk out of the bathroom. she was clad in her favorite pajamas – one of his shirts and pink pajama shorts. the shorts he bought as part of his one year anniversary present for her. her feet padded softly across the floor as she made her way towards him, and he turned his head, grinning up at her when she reached closer. she stood next to him, placing her hands on the arm of the couch and leaning towards neal, smiling back.

“ready for bed?” he asked, and he earned a nod in response.

his eyes practically sparkled as he looked at her. to him, in this very moment, as she stood wearing his shirt and frilly pink pajama shorts, she was the most beautiful girl in the world. and in every moment after this one, she would still be the most beautiful girl in the world to him. that was something he knew would never change. 

she tip-toed around the couch and coffee table, slipping between the two and plopping down on the couch. she lifted her feet up, resting them on the left side of the couch as she lied her head on neal’s lap. her hands settled near his knees. his hand instinctively went to her head, brushing her hair back. in slow, sweet movements his fingers played with her hair.

it was such a little thing, yet something about neal made her feel so safe. comfortable. happy. the way he looked at her as though she’d hung the stars and moon in the sky just for him. the way his eyes dilated, so full of emotion each time he looked at her. the way he effortlessly made her feel the good kind of butterflies in her stomach. the way he smiled at her as if she’d just brought the sun in after a dark night. neal made her whole. 

he slightly closed the book he’d been reading as his fingers twirled in her hair. it was still open, but just barely, his thumb holding open the page he’d left off on. the pages had flopped in, some curling beneath each other. the cover faced the floor while the back of the book was up towards the ceiling

“whatcha readin’?” she mumbled, worn out from the day. 

“i’m doing a re-read of the count of monte cristo. i’ve reached the part where dantès is in jail and abbé started teaching him everything,” he responded.

“ooohhh i love that one. read to me?” she asked, turning her head to look up at him slightly. she smiled, batting her eyelashes as if he was difficult to convince. neal laughed, leaning down to press a kiss to her head. 

“always, my love,” he whispered, opening the book up more and wrapping his left arm around her so he could hold the book up with both hands. she had to stop herself from frowning at the loss of his fingers in her hair, quickly perking up as he started to read. 

she smiled, staring at the book. she tried to follow along with what he read, but her eyes started to feel heavier and heavier. she closed them, opting to simply listen instead. her heart was full as he read to her. after about a chapter, her thoughts wandered slightly. she thought about how lucky she was to have neal. she thought about how she wanted to spend every night this way, ready to go to bed and yet staying awake simply to spend more time together. she thought about how much she loved neal. she thought of the first time she met him, and when they started dating.

it wasn’t easy for neal to convince her to go on a date with him. the first day she walked through the doors of the white collar office, she’d been earlier than expected. peter hadn’t briefed neal on the situation yet to tell him to dial down the charm. he’d strolled right up to her, offering his hand and his signature smile. despite the look on her face, clearly exhausted and not very welcoming of bullshit, he tried to be witty. she ended up laughing at his opening line, which to him was a win, especially after peter finally told him. he was happy that he could make her laugh in the middle of what was arguably the lowest point of her late 20s. from the very start, he insisted that he’d take her out one day, flashing his charming smile and flirting with her.

he waited a year. he built her trust, and she built on his. he shared secrets with her that he hadn’t told anyone else – not even mozzie. he’d gotten closer to her, becoming the first person she’d go to in the mornings when she arrived at the office. at the start, she’d only gone to peter or her desk – her only two comforts in a new place. eventually, that changed to saying hello to neal first and bugging him about a case file or papers splattered all over his desk. 

it took a while before she agreed to a date. even when she wanted to say yes, she waited until she knew she was ready. she didn’t want to risk messing it up. neal asked her out four times. the first time was not long after they met. she told him she couldn’t, not yet, and he told her he’d wait. he knew she’d need time, and so he let it pass until he thought she might be ready. he tried two more times after that, both at points he thought were right. she nearly said yes both of those times, but still shook her head no. both times he took it well, understanding and proceeding to buy her coffee. it was his way of letting her know outside of words that he would continue waiting until she was ready. 

the day she did say yes, he’d been ecstatic. truthfully, he nearly didn’t ask that day. he was expecting another no, and would’ve taken it graciously. yet, when she walked in the door that day, something in the air shifted and pushed him to ask. she still remembers the way his eyebrows shot up when she finally said “yes” to him. he would’ve waited years for her if he had to. he still would, now. 

if someone had told her a few years ago, on the road to new york city, that this is where she would end up, she would’ve laughed in their face. that kind of reality was completely out of question for her. three years ago, she felt her world come crashing down, and she thought there was no chance of digging herself out of the rubble. little did she know, that three years later, the little “yes” that led to one, two, three more dates would bring her here. 

as she listened to neal read, having missed a lot of what he’d already said at this point, she opened her eyes. he’d already passed another two chapters, and was about to start the third.

“hey, neal?” she interrupted before he got the chance to start reading that chapter.

he rested the book on his legs, his right hand holding it as his left moved to caress her shoulder. 

“yes, love?” he asked, looking down at her. 

“i love you,” she said, and she meant it with everything she had. 

“i love you. always,” he told her, his voice quieting to a near whisper at the end. 

three, simple little words. so little had been said aloud, and yet so much had been said between the two of them. the room quieted, the two of them lying there, on the couch, intertwined. the book since discarded to the floor beside the couch. they would eventually move to the bed, shutting off the lights and sliding beneath the bedsheets. they wouldn’t turn away from each other, instead once again seeking one another out. hands grabbing to pull them closer. by the morning, the sheets would be halfway off the bed, but they would still be holding one another. they’d go to the office and finish a case by 3 in the afternoon. they’d go to dinner, neal would pull out the ring box he’d been hiding in various places for the last 10 months. yes, eventually that would all happen.

but for now, they would lie here, on the couch, and thank the lucky stars above for helping them find one another.

[millerskitty]

Running If You Call My Name

❥ dbf!joel / f!reader x joel miller

❥ (18+) nsfw

❥ reader insert

❥ medium burn, no outbreak au. some timelines are changed to fit the story.

dividers by @/saradika !

warnings: pregnancy, soft joel, fluff, joel acting like a damn sugar daddy

word count: 1.4k

tag list: @foxin5billion, @persiar9, @ivoryandflame, @victoriaholland, @glitterspark & @zen3ca

masterlist

Chapter 13

The unforgiving summer sun was blazing down at you through the untinted windows of Joel’s old pickup truck. You sighed, pulling down the visor in a failed attempt to keep the heat from frying you.

“Sorry, baby, we should have come in your car.” Joel said, placing his hand over your overheated thigh.

“No, you know I can barely get out of that thing. It’s so low to the ground.” You chuckled, running a palm over your round stomach. You were unbelievably approaching the eight month mark.

Joel’s hand moved up and pressed down on top of yours. His touch never failed to give you butterflies. The tender moment must have affected the baby, because it started to kick wildly as soon as the weight of Joel’s large hand landed on top of yours.

“I’m telling you, we’ve got a kangaroo cookin in there.’” Joel chuckled, turning his eyes back to the road.

“That would explain all the damn pressure on my bladder. I swear I’ve never used so many public bathrooms in my life.” You cringed.

“Listen here, little miss or mister, leave Mommy’s organs be or you’ll have to deal with me.”

“You’re going to be the softest daddy there ever was.”

“You hush, it can hear you.”

“I’m sorry but calling them ‘it’ will never fail to make me laugh.” You chuckled.

“I’m sorry, they can hear you downplaying the wrath of Dad.” Joel said as he pulled into the fourth car dealership you’d visited that day.

“I guess you can be kind of scary when you misplace your tools.” You said, unbuckling your seatbelt. Joel jumped out of the truck and crossed around to help you out.

“Easy, girl.” He said with a look of pride on his face. He loved taking care of you like you were his delicate flower, pregnant and swollen with his baby.

“I may look like a cow, but I assure you there is no milk to be found here.”

“Be patient, I’m sure it’ll come in when it’s time.”

“I’m still nervous, what if it doesn’t?”

“Then we will figure something out, darlin, one thing at a time.”

“We should have called ahead to see if they have the model you’re looking for.”

“And miss out on this quality time with my baby? Never.” Joel said as he led you to the building to look for the safest, best quality vehicle to surprise Sarah with.

~

“It’s perfect.” You said.

“Black? Don’t you think she’d prefer the purple?”

“Be serious, Joel.” You said with a giggle. Sarah would love the sleek black Hyundai Elantra. It was perfect for her needs, very safe to drive and an excellent choice to get around at college.

“Alright, you girls share a brain cell so I’ll listen to ya’.”

“Good boy.”

“We’ll take it, but let’s take a look at those mini vans y’all got up front there first.” Joel said, winking at you.

“Joel-”

“Let’s just have a look, mama.” He said, leading you away.

The minivans were glorious; they accommodated every possible need that a first time mom could ever have. You had been nervous about taking the baby anywhere in the pickup or your small car, so it was a wonderful idea. Each different model just got better and better. Joel watched in amusement as you gushed at all of the amenities.

“That the one ya’ want, mama?” He asked when you had been foaming at the mouth over the sheer amount of space in the back. You could easily imagine yourselves taking camping trips and grocery shopping with no issue.

You looked up at Joel with a bit of concern and a whole lot of gratitude. “But-”

“Then it’s yours.” He said as he chewed on a toothpick.

~

You were flying high, dopamine was plentiful in your brain as you made dinner that evening. You were making bolognese at Pop’s house. The guys celebrated the new vehicle purchases with a case of beer in the backyard. It made your heart full to have it all after so many months of despair at the idea of never getting to have this life with Joel. You wondered just how everything managed to fall perfectly into place. Pop had been over the moon, falling out of his chair when you gave him a shirt that said “Best Grandpa in the Lone Star State” shortly after you’d broken the news to Joel.

After the initial shock had settled, he congratulated the two of you, vowing to live up to the title on his shirt. You would never forget the look on Joel’s face. His eyes watered, something you didn’t see very often. He embraced you and Pop at the same time. It was one of many memories together that you’d cherish for the rest of your life.

~

After dinner, Sarah begged to go shopping with her friend, Dex, who was going to college in New York with her. She said her goodbyes and promised not to be home too late, leaving you and Joel to walk back home alone together.

“Does this ever feel unreal to you?” You asked Joel, whose hand was in yours.

“Of course. Every time I get to wake up to that sweet face o’ yours.” He said with a glimmer of light in his eyes.

“You always know just what to say.”

“Well shucks,” He said in a joking voice, “I just know how lucky I am that you put up with my shit.”

“You were a dick for a little bit, but you had a point. You were just afraid, unsure.”

“Some risks are worth taking.” He said, unlocking the front door and placing his hand on your lower back to lead you inside.

He tossed the keys into the bowl on the entryway shelf and you went to the kitchen and started to put away the leftovers from dinner at Pop’s when you heard Joel running the bath. He appeared back in the kitchen moments later to lead you into your shared ensuite bedroom.

“Bath time for you two.” He rubbed your stomach and kissed your neck.

“Does daddy want to join us?”

“I get to join? ‘Course I will.” Joel said, pouring in some bath salts and lighting a candle as you began to undress. He intervened, stripping the remaining items of clothing off of you before helping you into the deep garden bathtub.

You moaned at the relief that came as the pressure was relieved from your aching back. Joel stripped and got into the tub, sitting across from you. The bubbles were growing higher and higher around you until Joel turned the faucet off, gently pulling your foot towards him and rubbing it.

“Fuck, that feels so good.” You moaned as he massaged your feet.

“I bet, I’m sorry you have to be in so much pain.”

“It will be so worth it.”

“Do you ever just want to just find out what it’s going to be?” Joel asked.

“Honestly… Yeah.” You giggled.

“I don’t care either way, but it’s just so exciting.”

“We’ve only got a few more weeks before we find out. We’ve made it this far.” You chuckled, pulling your foot back and scooting over to lay your head on Joel’s chest. His heart drummed steadily as you touched the wet curls of hair on his chest. “Do you like me all big and pregnant still?”

“Baby, what kind of question is that?” He rubbed his hands down the sides of your body, landing on your round stomach.

“I just don’t really recognize myself, I don’t always feel the best like this.”

“I find you so attractive like this, I'm reminded that you’re mine now every time I look at you.”

“I love you.” You said, holding onto him.

“I’m so in love with you.” He kissed the top of your forehead.

~

After rinsing off in the shower, Joel lathered you in lotion from head to toe. You felt soft and well cared for, but it only got better when Joel initiated your favorite bedtime routine. He spooned you and rubbed your back, until his body naturally urged him to focus on kneading your ass, which made you giggle. He was obsessed with touching you, holding you, pleasuring you.

“That’s not my back, Sir.” You playfully scolded.

“It’s a part of your backside and it requires just as much attention as your shoulders.” Joel chuckled.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

“I have every intention of finishing, darlin’” He said, burying his face into your neck from behind.