#if the bathroom is sorted before his parents leave today we can probably start moving things down

[quins-makeshift-menagerie]

I didn’t take into account how much recovery my arm would need when I said I was hoping to return mid June lmao….

[r3starttt]

CALL ME BY YOUR NAME | 03

fic M.list | read this or DNI

an: pretty short BUT it’s because nsfw part it’s gonna be long soooo I’ll do it separately, stay tuned y’all 😍☝️

"Is it better to speak or to die?" Your mom says, gently running her fingers all over your arm. Your dad, on the other side, kept his gaze fully fixated on your mom, who kept on reading a German novel.

It was raining, the type of rain to male everyone want to sleep, the one that could be perceived as white noise. Outside there was barely sunlight, the ambience was cold and the sky was all gray. You found comfort in it.

Lights went off, all at once, no warning at all. "You know we...you can always talk to us, yeah?" Your dad whispers, taking you out of that trance you've been since yesterday. Do they know? Does she know?

You simply nodded, reciprocating the sheepish smile your parents were giving you as a sort of comfort you kept ignoring you needed.

-

You can feel her eyes all over your body. The sound of her legs moving around the water, accompanied by the birds chirping, it makes you nauseus.

She wasn't here yesterday, and you simply could not stop thinking of her, what she did, and with who? Why not you and why, no matter how hard you tried, it couldn't be you the one.

If it wasn't because of the sunglasses you'd be out of here in less then a second, hiding in your room and pretending to not notice when she arrives home or leaves, pretending to not hear her muffled whines right next to you every night, pretending to not take a quick look outside your balcony whenever you hear her swimming, or pretending to not slick your ear to the bathroom door whenever water starts running. Because ironically, you do hate her, and it seems like the longer she stays the less you can handle her.

"Gotta go to town in a little bit to pick some things up" Abby con barely finish her sentence when you're already replying. Your voice elicts a smile on her face, pretty cocky as usual "Oh, I can go. I'm not doing anything today"

She just shrugges, taking her legs out of the water "then why don't we go together?" Your elbows act before you let them, forcing you to stand almost right when her voice is heard. You hated her for this.

-

You kept remembering the first time you brought her her. It was impossible to not regret it, after all it felt like suicide. You've done this to yourself just to not be a stubborn daughter for once.

It's strange, even when she first came you knew something was different, that's what lead you to act different for once. Maybe it wasn't you but her the problem.

You opened your mouth, letting her place the cigarette on it. She'd been making you wait for a while and your hands were busy, so far this was the only decent thing she's done for you, and it's not even on purpose. The lighter came closer to your face, and so did she. You haven't seen her this close, it's probably the first time you get to see what colors her eyes are. And even when it takes seconds, the contact it's enough for you, and you can swear you feel the warmth coming out of her body as well.

"I thought you didn't smoke?" You can see her siluette walking vaguely around you, taking her bicycle again "I don't" The defensiveness in her voice, you reciprocated her foolish smile.

"So, world War two, huh?" The metal of the bicycle had barely hit the railing that protected the omenage when she was already walking away from you, again. "No, this is world War one"

A 'huh' brushes past her lips. Abby restes her elbows on the railing, letting out a small hiss at the warmth of it. How stupid, you think.

"I don't even know about the.. battle of Piavé?" Her sandals hit the ground at her every step, hands running along the railing. "Píave, one of the most lethal battles of World War one" your hands rest on your stomach, crossed to support each other. And even though your eyes are looking at the statue in front of you, you can still feel her essence neare you, eating you alive with just the eyes.

"Is there anything you don't know?" You knew for a fact she meant to be nice right now, but you felt like putting some force on it, some sort of invisible barrier, because once you let her have her chance with you, you wouldn't stop her. And it wasn't meant to be, it couldn't. "I know nothing Abby"

You shocked your head, walking on the opposite side to where she kept resting. Taking a long deep drag of the cigarette "is that so? Because you seem to know more than anybody else around here". You both had sunglasses on, but even like that every time your glances coincided, the feeling was so strong it felt palpable.

"If you only knew how little I know about the things that matter" there's a sarcastic tone on your voice, unintentional but real. "What things that matter?" She clicked her tongue, extending her arms so the palms of her hands could be fully resting on the metal fence. "You know what things". Your arms crossed over the fence, hiding your face in between.

"Why're you telling me this? The smells of the cigarette suddenly became unbearable. "'Cause I thought you should know?" Even though she's away from you her laugh is still audible enough "Because you thought I should know?" There's a hidden tone on her voice you just can't decipher, and it causes you such a painfull feeling each time it appears, like you're the one doing it all wrong, like you're the adult. "'Cause I wanted you to know?" You tried to fix it, immediately regretting it.

You both walked to what was left ot the fence, each on one side. You kept repeating your las sentence, how stupid it sounded, how stupid you are. Until you're face to face again with her, and you feel so mature, so understood.

Her left hands is placed on her waist, one knee slightly flexioned and the other hand taking the cigarette away from her mouth as she lets the smoke fly to your face. She seemes hesitant, nothing she's ever been with around you but only when your mom's around. She's afraid.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" You do the same, admiring how the smoke passes through her face so gracefully. Quietly nodding as her eyes wander all over your face. Have you get it?

Before you realized your head was resting on her chest, the only thing visible now were both of your feet against each other "Shouldn't have said anything" Abby moves her free hand to your back, making small circles over it as she heard your statement. "Just pretend you never did"

The moment you threw your cigarette on the floor she did It too, gently pushing you away. The sound of the sandals brushing the pavement was comforting, human, and it meant you two were, after all, the same in some sort of way.

"What does that mean? We're on speaking terms, but not really?" You mock. "It means we can't talk about those kinds of things, okay?" You don't know when but at some point your teeth were biting on your inner lips, painfully hard. You couldn't look at her, she felt like someone you should fear, and you still hated her. "We just can't"

She gave you one last pat on the shoulder, it felt wrong how motherly she was. Maybe you were the one wrong after all. You just waited for her to get her sheets, unsure still of what they were.

Maybe it was karma, they were all a disorder and not whorth the wait, or that's what you heard her say as she walked towards you, clearly annoyed.

-

"The Alpi Orobie, water comes straight down from there"

This was your form of apologizing, taking her to your place, a small lake away from everything and everyone. She seemed to enjoy it.

It was quiet besides the birds chirping and the water running. After the rain the sun comes lighter than ever, good timing you guess. It wasn't practically hot, just nice enough.

"I like the way you say things. Don't know why you're always putting yourself down, though" she whispers. Abby really wanted to make things better, she felt the same way you felt for her. But it felt wrong to be the mote mature between both, acting like the stupid one just to get you. She was trying to fix this, and it was torture that you simply never gave her the chance to, no matter what she did or said you always had something smarter to make her sound lame. "So you won't, I guess?"

"You're really that afraid of what I think?" You bite your inner lips again, tasting the mix of blood and saliva mixing on your tongue. Simply nodding once again, dragging your feet to get closer to her until both yours and her fingers are touching. "You're making it hard for me" "I know"

Quietly, grabbing her hand you drag her to a small piece covered in grass. She'd give you enough signals to take what you needed of her, at least for today, and you weren't planning on waisitng it.

Her whole body is covered by the sunlight and you swear she's never looked this good. The strands of her hair gracefully dancing along the breeze passing by her face. Her white blouse covered in wet, letting you have the most delicious sight of her body.

Not even sitting and you have her on top of you. Middle finger running over your lips and your tongue containing on its space, painfully. You wanted- needed to suck her fingers, to feel every inch of her body, and it was torture to not have it.

Abby knew what you wanted, she was craving it as much as you. But for the first time in her whole life, she'd losen control about everything, and you were the one behind it. The reason she's been touching herself till sleep every night, the reason she even considered to stay for months in Italy. You had made of her and her life a chaos, and somehow that made her hate you as much as you hated her. It was hilarious how she even ended like this, whit someone like you.

Her lips pressed on yours, two tender kisses that she despised more than anything in this life. Not because of you but because of her being the one to initiate them and you the ones to cut them off.

And it's not that you wanted to, but this was driving you insane, because it felt like you've imagined, but somehow you've finally made conscious about what this stupid kisses mean, for both.

There's a trail of saliva connecting your lips as she pushes you away, so abruptly it almost hurst. Not only physically but mentally, making you wonder if she even meant it in the first place. "Better now?" Her cocky voice makes you want to punch her right in those lips until she can't ever speak again. You remember why you hate her since the moment you ever saw her or heard her voice.

Not fair, she gets what she wants until she doesn't want it anymore. You're just one more of her interests that will eventually fade away.

Without thinking you push her back, making her lay on the grass. It pinchs on your bare legs the moment you sit on top of her, not even the nature is being pity with you. She reciprocates the kiss tho.

"Mmm-mmm" you hear, feeling the vibrations on your lips and her hands on your waist one more, begging you tu move away and stop this. To pretend it didn't happen like what she said some hours ago.

You hate yourself for this. But you obbey. Abby repeatedly says 'no' pulling away from you. Her hand dances over her lips, getting rid of what was left from your desperation on her face. "We should go"

"Why?" You tease, opening your legs on one last attempt to get her at least for one minute more. "I know myself, okay? And we've been good" her hands both place on your knees, palm pressed tightly on top of your skin, closing your legs. "I wanna be good"

-

You've ran away the instant you noticed the blood running down your noise to your lips. It's by far the grossest hemorrhage you've got. Yet nothing unusual, just the mix of stress and warmth being too overwhelming for your body.

Abby tried not to pay attention to it, or worry. But she needed to see you were good, she needed to take care of you, or just help you get clean. It felt like she was the reason of it, but the sight of your parents in fron of you, so focused on whatever thing they were debating about. She simply couldn't, it would be either too obvious or not the best idea for you.

She feared to let you down like this, but also hated to be the reason behind it all on the first place. She's never regretted something this horrifying in her whole life, ever.

She'd fallen in love with you at her worst moment, and feared more than anything to hurt you, to have any sort of effect in you. Because you had a whole life ahead of you and she simply didn't.

-

Traitor, I'm such a pussy, please forgive me, don't avoid me. I'm sorry? I'm sorry, can't stand that you hate me, forgive me, what did I do wrong?

"Can't stand the silence, need to speak to you" were the words you wrote for her, on a random notebook you sometimes uses as a sort of journal. She was awful. "Grow up, see you at midnight" she replied. You were awful.

-

12:00 am

Crickets chirping, empty dark blue sky and countable stars decorating the ambience accompanied by the moonlight. Romantic to say the least.

She was smoking, you've realized the reason behind it. "Come inside" you whispered, hoping it was loud enough for her to hear but enough to catch anyone else's attention. Which means, trying to not let your parents hear you begging her to let you fuck her, at least once.

She tossed the cigarette violently, almost as if she had resentment for you still. Which she simply couldn't.

Sitting at the end of your old bed she finally spoke to you, not verbally but vy extending her arms so you could crawl to her. Abby smelled like pine and cigarette, it reminded you of alcohol. Is suits her.

"Can I kiss you?" Abby's hands move to the sides of your cheeks, making enough force against them so you couldn't move if given the opportunity "yes please" you whispered back, already opening your mouth. She pressed her lips on yours, making her tongue palm against yours deliciously. The sound of your saliva mixing was the only thing heard in the room besides the clothes rubbing against each other.

Abby laughed, breaking the kiss to stand up and walk to the side of the bed. The door slapped at it, so hard the floor vibrated. You stated at the whole scene in amusement, hoping for once in your life your parents where in this same situation so they wouldn't care "fuck you" you screamed silently at her.

[fryingpan1234567]

Batboys ships feat. the morning after New Years (happy 2023 everyone!!)

~ ”Ughhh…” Dick Grayson took half the covers with him when he fell out of the bed, sore and completely hungover.

Because of this, Wally was forced to actually move and look over the edge at him.

“What the shit was that for?” he grumped. His condition wasn’t much better. He yanked the covers back, but Dick didn’t move.

He groaned. “M’ skull has a heartbeat…” he mumbled into the carpet.

Wally huffed in solidarity. “That speedster alcohol works. Remind me to thank and then punch Cisco later.”

“What, you’re leaving the house today?” Dick joked, finally managing to crawl back up into bed. Thankfully, the windows were closed, and they could probably go back to sleep. He faceplanted into Wally’s chest. “Shtay.”

“Yeah, yeah.” There was a serene pause. Not even the dog was up. “If you puke on me, I’m breaking up with you.”

“I would nev- maybe we should go to the bathroom.”

“GET OFF!”

~ Lian knew her dads were going to be hungover the morning after. She did not count on taking care of and reverse-parenting the shit out of them, though. It was sort of validating.

“Li, I’m buying you the fucking Wonka factory after this,” Roy groaned, half hanging out of the bed.

“You’re my favorite child,” Jason agreed, (barely) catching the water bottle she tossed him.

Lian grinned, leaning against the bed. “Don’t repay me in chocolate, repay me in solo patrol time!”

“Don’t push your luck,” Roy grumbled, taking the bottle Jay passed over.

“I’ll make you Nutella sandwiches for lunch.”

“I hate that you know my weakness.”

~

When Tim woke up, the house was quiet.

Normally he’s not the first one up anyways. The Manor always had the sound of training, yelling, busy hallways. Unless it was early enough, anyways.

Kon’s arm was draped over his chest, and he was still snoring peacefully.

“Kon,” Tim whispered, poking at his bicep. “Conner, we’re up first.”

Conner mumbled something like, “You’re up first. I’m asleep.”

Tim sighed, tracing patterns on his boyfriend’s arm. More sleep didn’t sound too bad, although late nights weren’t an excuse. Late nights were every night.

Still. It was New Years last night. He figured no one would be up until at least nine, which was the latest anyone usually slept in the Manor.

“Turn your brain off,” Kon hummed. “I can feel you thinking. It’s distracting.”

“I thought you were asleep,” Tim teased, lolling his head over to check the actual time.

Oh. Oh, no.

Tim sat bolt upright in bed, startling Kon off of him.

“What-?” he started to say in a panic, but Tim cut him off.

“FUCK,” he yelped. “It’s one in the afternoon!”

~

Despite Drake’s shouting, Damian had managed to sleep in- and that never happened.

He lay staring at the door, a blush spreading across his face as memories from the night before replayed.

“Dami!” Admittedly, the Kryptonian had only found him because he’d paused to watch the countdown in Gotham’s city square. He couldn’t say he was mad, although he was maybe a bit ashamed someone had caught him lacking.

“Kent,” Damian greeted. He hated the butterflies that swarmed his stomach. He hoped it didn’t show in his voice.

“Can I sit?” Jon said obliviously. Damian gestured to the ledge beside him, where they could see the big billboard. Thirty seconds.

Dami glanced at him after a few moments of silence. “Why are you in Gotham?”

Jon shrugged. “Conner’s here. And maybe I wanted to see you.”

Twenty seconds. “Me?”

“Yeah… unless- if you don’t-“

“Jon.” Damian was startled into using his first name. He hesitantly laid a gloved hand on Jon’s. “I like to see you too, if it comforts you.”

Jon smiled. “Well, then- the countdown’s starting!”

10.

9.

8.

Jon hopped up to his feet, pulling Dami with him by the hand. When they were standing, he didn’t let go.

7.

6.

Damian tried to ignore the short distance between them. He could feel the heat radiating from him.

5.

4.

When Jon leaned in, he may or may not have given Dami a heart attack.

3.

2.

1.

He kissed him, right as the first fireworks went off and the crowd screamed.

Movement in the bed next to him scared him so bad he fell out of it.

There was a knife in Damian’s hand before he recognized the person there.

Jon was looking at him, pretty eyes half-lidded, with a sleepy smile. Dami tried not to melt.

“Tryna kill me already, Sunshine?” he mumbled, still buried in the covers. “After one date, too. Am I that bad at kissing?”

“I-“ Dami dropped the knife, mostly in shock. “No. No, of course not. To both questions.”

Jon hummed. “Well maybe you should stop trying to stab me and do it again.”

He did. For a long time. Father didn’t need to know why he never left his room that day.

~ can you tell who my favorite is lol

[jbreenr]

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale × Reader

Summary: You wanted to meet Ransom's family, he wanted to make sure you'd never want it again.

Word count: 3k.

Warning: Poorly written smut (+18 only, please), public sex (prompt 11), fingering, unprotected sex (don't do that, kids. be responsible), a bit of dirty talk, the Thrombeys being the Thrombeys. And I think that's it.

A/N: So, after finding out one of my stories was stolen an translated in Wattpad, I did not know if I should post this just yet but, what the hell? Let's do it. Anyway, this is for @stargazingfangirl18 and @navybrat817 's Shameless Hoes for Chris Challenge so, happy belated birthday! Yaaay. 🥳 Hope you like this at least a little and that it's not as bad as my paranoid brain thinks it is. Also, I just love how the prompts fit perfectly together, don't you? As always, lack of vocabulary and grammatical mistakes abound. *apologizes in español*

Wheel results (just attaching evidence):

ᴹʸ ᵍⁱᶠ

Draining, tedious, exasperating. Those were some of the adjectives Ransom associated with Thrombey family reunions. He'd arrive late, have some sort of conversation with his grandfather and leave early to do whatever that took him away from that big house.

Today though, he had a reason to stay for more than half an hour.

If it was up to him, you two would have stayed at home, happy, relaxed, and most importantly, naked in his bed, having a more pleasant time than the one you were most likely about to have. 

He tried to persuade you. Of course he did! But your insistence and puppy eyes made it impossible for him to say no to your request. 

So, here you were, getting out of his car, cake in sweaty hands and an excited smile on your lips, an expression so different from Ransom's, who seemed to be ready to get back behind the wheel and drive straight to Canada.

He didn't knock; he simply opened the door and held it for you to enter. If the three floor house was imposing from the outside, you felt impressed by the inside. Extravagant sculptures, apparently expensive paintings and other kinds of pieces of art were scattered everywhere, telling you just how wealthy and eccentric Ransom's family were. 

“That's Harlan Thrombey! ” You exclaimed as you stood in front of the portrait of your forever favorite author holding a knife and a book.

“So?” Ransom asked, unconcerned.

You turned to him open-mouthed, the cake almost slipping off your palms as you went to playfully slap him in the arm.

“How come you are related to Harlan Thrombey and you didn't tell me?” Your question was more of a shock than an accusation.

The carefree gesture he did with his shoulders only accentuated his next words. “I did not think you would be interested in knowing.”

“I wouldn’t be interested?” Incredulity, flowing out of your lips. “He’s the best thriller author of all time! He’s like today’s Edgar Allan Poe!”

To say that you didn't believe him was an understatement. He knew for a fact that you liked Harlan Thrombey's books, just taking a look at the bookshelf in your apartment was proof enough of that.

“We call him grandpa here.” Said a femenine voice. A brunette walked in your direction, her pretty features hardening as she looked at your boyfriend. “Don't we, Hugh?”

He seemed to be ready to say something but decided not to. Instead he inhaled and placed his hand on your back.

“This is Y/N, the only reason I’m not telling you what you need to hear right now.”

Her eyes rolled in irritation and then turned to you. “I’m Meg. Let's introduce you to the rest of the family, shall we?.” And she dragged you to the room where more people were gathered together, discussing something, not before sending a deadly glare at Ransom.

Given the distance between you and him, you didn't listen to the heavy sigh he let out before waking behind.

“Everyone!” Meg called, making everyone leave whatever they were doing to look at her –and you, in consequence. “Meet Y/N, Hugh's new friend.” She then proceeded to introduce every single member of the family, including the housekeeper and the nurse, except for the grandfather, who apparently had a moment of inspiration and left them momentarily to put his ideas on paper.

None of them left their seat to go and shake your hand except for Meg's energetic mom, who hugged you and expressed how much she loved your coat even though it was soooo last season.

Sitting on a couch next to Ransom, you half expected someone to ask you about how you two met or how long had you been dating or what was it that you did for a living. Nothing. As fast as their attention was on you, it fell from you to their previous discussion.

You now understood why Ransom jokingly suggested deep cleaning the house instead of attending that reunion.

What you weren't aware of, Ransom thought, was that all of them were behaving wonderfully compared to previous times.

You didn't know if you felt more disappointed or uncomfortable. Ransom had left your side to go to the studio for a second and you had barely had any interaction with his family. All of them, dipped in their own matters to even notice your presence. 

Fran, the housekeeper, was kind enough to take the cake to the kitchen and offer you a glass of water, but after giving it to you, she disappeared along with Meg and the nurse. 

“So,” All at once, the room went quiet as Ransom's uncle spoke. “Have you read any of dad's books, Y/N?” Only until you heard your name was that your head snapped up.

“Oh, uhm… yeah. I'm a big fan.” Taken by surprise, you simply answered.

“Really? Which one have you read?”

And to that question, you felt suddenly included in the conversation since you had knowledge of the topic.

“I'm like fifty pages from finishing 'The Needle Game' and intrigue is eating me alive.” As you heard the excitement in your voice, you tried to compose yourself and said “Though 'Nick Of Time' is my favorite.” You smiled at him, hoping that your answer was a good one.

The woman that was introduced to you as Ransom's mother nodded as she licked her lips. The light of the fireplace, reflecting on her glasses as she moved her head up and down.

“Have you read 'Ultimatum' or 'Drop In The Pocket', dear?” Her tone was curious, but the look on her face said differently.

You responded anyway. “They're not bad. I feel like the ending of 'Drop In The Pocket' was a little vague and out of line but it can always be interpreted as an open ending so…” The change in their expressions told you that you had to add something else to that answer. Maybe it was not time for literature humor yet. “But I enjoyed both.”

She hummed and took her drink, detaching from the talk that continued with courtesy questions until it morphed into a heated discussion between Ransom's father and uncle, who would repeatedly ask for your opinion to back up his own.

The discomfort you felt, dispelled to be replaced by the disturbance of being bombarded with dozens of questions at a time, each louder than the other until they changed to a completely different topic to which you were occasionally included as a neutral point of view.

“She knows what she's talking about!” Said Richard at some point when you confirmed one of his arguments. “Thank you, dear.”

Ransom came back from his obligatory argument with his grandfather to find you nowhere to be seen. 

“She's using the bathroom.” Informed Jacob, who did not take his eyes off of his cellphone. 

Thinking that you went there to hide, he started his way to your potential direction until an overheard observation from his mother stopped him halfway through. 

“… Did you hear how she talked about dad's work? Oh, I assure you she won't make it to next week with Ransom.”

Her and Richard's backs were to him, both of them unaware that their son was listening to their share of opinions.

“And did you see her hands?” Joni joined the criticism contest. “She could use some moisturizer, I tell you.”

As usual, they ignored her attempt to fit in and kept going.

“I know it's contradictory to say this,” Richard paused, as to make his point clear. “But he could do better.”

Despite their whispering, Ransom heard every single word and was glad that you were not there to see what was about to happen… 

Ransom's words stuck on his throat when he saw you making your way out of the bathroom, fixing the skirt of your dress, with such niceness and warmth directed to him as you smiled, oblivious to the fact that the people you were trying to get to like you weren't going to. 

His parents were right. He could do better. He could determine to not see them ever again and it would be the best thing to happen to him… Besides you, obviously.

“What's wrong?” Your concern was evident, just as his annoyance was undeniable.

Cold hands caressed his cheeks and Ransom thought of going back to Joni and tell her to fuck off. Your touch was soft, comforting, and gave him the greatest idea he'd ever had.

“I want to show you something.” Was his answer. It was better if you were the one who decided to never step on that house for the rest of your lives. It didn't matter if it was out of embarrassment.

Taking your hand in his, he guided you up the stairs to the first landing. The creaking sound of the old structure, probably alerting everyone in the other room that you were going to the next floor.

“Are you okay?” The sweet giggle that you let out when he abruptly stopped, almost making him feel bad about what he was seconds away from doing. 

“Better than ever.” And he stamped his lips to yours. 

Taken aback, it took you a second to respond. Hands on each side of his face as his own explored your body. When his fingers lifted your dress to caress your ass cheeks was when you ended the kiss. 

“What are you doing?” You asked in a breathless whisper. “Not that I'm complaining.”

You were cornered against the wall with Ransom towering in front of your smaller frame.

Trying to escape from whatever he had in mind was useless, you knew that much. Though, you were not sure if you really wanted to escape.

“What I've been wanting to do ever since you got a shower without me this morning.” His lips found your jaw and descended to your neck where he sucked to create a bruise. Your eyes closed to the sensation.

“Wait. No, wait.” His fingertip that had started rubbing your still clothed bud paused it's motions as his eyes focused back on your face. “We can't do it. Not here.”

Ransom's finger went back to work, bringing a soft moan that you tried to suppress. “Why not? No one's gonna come here.” His other hand moved up your thigh to lift it. “Even if they did, they wouldn't notice.”

With an expert swing of his wrist, he moved your panties aside, letting the cold air that wandered inside the house hit you before his skilled middle finger entered you while still managing to rub your clit in circles with his thumb.

Adrenaline ran through your veins, fuel activating every nerve in your body and shaking away fear from your brain, replacing it with lust and boldness.

“I'm blaming you if we get caught.” Your hips jolted forward wanting to feel more of his hand, the contradiction between your words and actions, making him smirk.

He added a second finger. Knuckles deep and his cold ring slowly warming against the inside of your thigh, he said, “I'll take responsibility, sweetheart.” Pumping his fingers in and out, he felt your slick running down the back of his hand to his wrist, wetting his overly expensive watch and the cuff of his cozy sweater .“But I can't assure you we won't get caught.”

His words, instead of working as a bucket of cold water as one would expect, increased your need to be touched by him, the yearning for him to take you right there and then. 

“Damn it, Ransom.” One of your hands flew to his shoulder to hold onto him for dear life. “I'm close.”

“You're not cumming unless I'm inside you, pretty thing.” At what point did he unfasten his belt and unzipped his trousers, you had no idea. The friction of his digits was gone in a second but the feeling of his already leaking tip rubbing against your most sensitive parts was enough to make you forget about those trifles.

Your lips opened, ready to tell him to keep his voice down when he suddenly thrusted home, stretching you out so deliciously that you had to cover your mouth to muffle the moan that threatened to inform everyone of your current activities.

Ransom's breathing hitched. Being inside you was a dream come true, feeling your walls enveloping his cock so fucking good… it was like you were made for each other, and he was going to prove it, even if his family didn't really get to know.

His hips started moving. Back and forth, back and forth. Delicately at first, letting you adjust to his size but the second he felt you throbbing around him, he increased the pace. Little by little his pounds gained power and energy.

Your whimpers –stuck in your throat, leaving only soft snuffles that crashed against Ransom's cheek, soon became more rapid, erratic and as his fingers dug in the flesh of your thigh to keep you still while he accommodated to go even deeper you heard a creaking noise.

Your boyfriend's blue eyes met yours, his movements never faltering despite the alert given by the dark wooden floor under your feet.

There was a conflict in your head, and Ransom could tell. The way you tightened and the pleading look on your face told different stories, yet Ransom knew they had the same ending.

Shaking your head, your eyes asked him not to do it, but you knew Ransom well enough to be sure that not even begging could stop him. 

“You love it, don't you?” His smile grew bigger as his change of position allowed him to hit your sweet spot on and on, ripping high pitched whines from you and obligating you to close your eyes. “The thought of getting caught. The image of someone seeing how good I make you feel.” The placement of his foot, making the landing creak repeatedly each time he pushed up accompanying every word. “Fuck, you're talking me so well. Such a dirty girl, uh.”

His big hand yanked the strap of your dress down, exposing your left boob. Your already hard nipple was soon attacked by Ransom's fingertips. He'd pinch and twist it slightly, just enough to make your back arch in search of his touch.

Pleasure was overflowing your senses, you could feel your heart thudding in your ears and your legs losing strength. Your hand left your mouth to grip at the back of Ransom's neck to keep you from falling.

The sight of your lower lip trapped between your teeth didn't please Ransom. In other circumstances, he would've let you stay that way, as quiet as possible so no one would walk on you. This time though, it was his intention to rip the most delicious sounds from your lips so you thought of the possibility of his family listening.

And so, he lent to kiss you, passion and desire transmitted through his breath. His tongue asked for a permission that was not really required, but as you let it in, Ransom took the opportunity to bite down your lip.

With your lips forcefully parted and Ransom's restless hand traveling back to your bundle, you had no other option than to moan with each quick circle his digits drew.

A series of laughs and undistinguished words were heard from a distance. Both Ransom and you turned to see what they were about, stopping in your tracks with him still buried deep inside your needy cunt.

“Guess dinner's ready.” Unbothered about the information he just gave, he hid his face in the crook of your neck and resumed his movements.

A shaky oh, fuck fell from your lips as you felt the familiar knot in your stomach forming. Your head flew back, hitting the wall with a soft thud. 

“Careful. We don't want to be obvious, do we?” You knew you were about to explode, and by the way your walls were clenching and your trembling body tried to separate from him, Ransom knew as well. “Let go, sweetheart.” A roar erupted from him as he felt you tightening around his length. “Cum for me.”

With a last, powerful thrust of his hips, you let out a silent scream. The coil snapped, making you see a kaleidoscope of colors behind your eyelids and listen to a loud ring in your ears. 

Ransom followed right after, cursing as he finished inside of you, coating you with every last drop and making sure everything would stay there.

He slid out, leaving you with a feeling of emptiness as he zipped his trousers and took a step back to let you fix your appearance.

You managed to accommodate your dress just in time for Ransom's family to walk out of the room they were in to see you. Your agitated breathing and blushed cheeks, getting everyone's attention. 

“Are you okay, dear?” Ransom's dad asked.

“She's fine.” Your boyfriend answered for you. “She's feeling a little sick. I better take her home.” He took you by the hand and helped you down the stairs to the door, which you thanked. Had he not done it, you would have tripped taking the first step.

“But she hasn't met grandpa yet.” Meg noted, furrowing her brows.

“It'll be next time.” And with that, Ransom took you out of the house and in the passenger seat of his car without giving anyone the chance to say goodbye.

When you were at a considerable distance, you sighed, letting out the air you didn't know you were holding.

“Just so you know, there won't be a next time.” You informed him, against your want to meet his grandfather.

“Why not?” He asked with a chuckle, already knowing the answer. 

“Cause embarrassment won't let me come back in the near future.”

Behind an eye roll and a tap on your thigh, Ransom hid the triumphant grimace his perfectly carried out plan gave him.

[revengeisourlullaby]

If I Never Knew You Pt.1

Pt.2   Pt.3   Pt.4   Pt.5   Pt.6

Warnings: 18+, eventual smut, arranged marriage plot, kinda royal au, some fighting, secret relationship, angst.

a/n: This is going to be a six part series. I’ve never done a series before, but I write so much anyway I thought why not make one. I’ll probably upload each part daily unless there is demand for them to come faster. I hope you enjoy. Requests/asks will be open if you wanna send smth to me! Although I will admit I am kinda slow in finishing requests. I have a lot to balance in my life so my apologies if I don’t get to them immediately!  

Word count: 1.8K

Loki x female!reader 

The sun shone through the window of your home, the golden rays warming up your cheeks and waking you from your slumber. Sitting up, you stretched, feeling the sleep vibrate out of your body. Tossing the sheets off your body, you swung your legs out of the bed and walked to the bathroom to begin your morning routine. Finishing with tending to the mass of hair on your head you trailed back into your bedroom to change into clothes appropriate for the day. An array of dresses always leaving you indecisive about what to wear.

Settling on an olive green one you walked towards the mirror and fastened the ties around the back of your neck. The loose sleeves draped over your shoulders, cascading down your back, and gold accents adorning the neckline. Finding your shoes, you slipped out of your bedroom, closing the door behind you, and walked down the hallway, the chatter of your family becoming more clear as you near the entrance of the main room. 

 “Good morning, mother. Father.”

It seemed you had slept in quite a bit, given your parents already eating breakfast. Your mother piped up

“There’s a portion left for you on the counter, my dear.”

Eying the food you decided you weren’t all that hungry yet. You had just woken up and your body had yet to settle. Declining, you grabbed your satchel and began to walk towards the door.

“But Y/N, you should really eat something before starting your day.”

“I’ll be fine, Mom. I promise. I’m just not that hungry right now. I’ll eat when I get back.”

Finally reaching the door, your father chimed in,

“You know, Y/N, just because you try to avoid the obvious, doesn’t mean it’s going to go away any sooner.”

Dropping your head, you sighed. You couldn’t seem to escape the duties of being a young woman in a world where royal obligations were something you were expected to partake in. Upon reaching the age of 18, you were supposed to be on the lookout for a decent suitor of a husband. The fact of the matter was, you were now approaching 22 and had yet to find someone acceptable, not only by your standards but by your parents. 

For this uniting of peoples would also be a uniting of families. You had until your 21st birthday to find a man suitable to everyone's liking and if you didn’t, arranged marriage was the next option. No one wanted to be known as the woman in Asgard who couldn’t get a man to offer his hand in marriage, yet here you were in all your glory. It was frustrating. 

If only they knew. 

“I know, Dad. Things are a little bit harder when I have to seek my parents' approval for my marriage.”

Your tone became short, frustrated at the entire situation. You already had someone, for a while now actually, but you hadn’t the guts to inform your parents because you knew they would shut him down. So you loved in silence. It was more than painful, not being able to be truly open with your lover, but you had yet to find the right time to pour out your heart to your family. Taking a deep breath, your grounded yourself and turned towards the door,

“I’ll be back later, I love you.”

Your mom got to responding before your father did,

“We love you too dear. Make sure to pay attention to who you’re around. Be safe.”

Smiling lightly you finally walked out the door and stepped into the fresh air that was Asgard. It never got old. The scent of the trees and freshwater that surrounded this place sent one into such serenity. Just being outside could allow your mind to drift elsewhere and forget about the troubles in your life. Walking as far as you could from your home you spaced out in the direction you were going. 

Coming back to when you accidentally kicked a pebble across the ground. Looking up you found yourself in one of the many gardens that surrounded Asgard. Walking to a marble bench, you scrunched up some of your dress in your hands, folding one leg under you before sitting atop it. Crossing your other leg across it and letting the fabric of your dress fall to the ground. 

Pulling your satchel into your lap, you grabbed your journal out of it and began to sketch the garden in front of you. Paying special attention to the detail of the flowers, wanting to make sure you entirely captured the essence of their beauty on paper. Lost in concentration, you failed to hear the footsteps approaching behind you. It wasn’t until you felt a hand rub small circles into your shoulder that you turned around. 

Hair fell in your face, obscuring your view of who was in front of you. Bringing your hand up to place your hair away from your face you dropped your pen on the ground. You went to reach for it, but a separate pair of hands grabbed it first.

“You seem to be quite the mess today, my darling.”

A genuine smile stretched across your features before looking up into the enchanting blue of his eyes. 

“Loki, hi! What are you doing out here?”

Sitting down next to you, careful to avoid your dress he spoke,

“Well, I was informed that a beautiful lady was sitting in the garden in front of the palace so of course, I had to go inspect the situation. And upon seeing a stunning shade of green draped over the bench, I had to introduce myself.” 

An airy laugh left your throat, blithe being showcased across your being.

“If I didn’t know any better, it sounds like you fancy this beautiful woman.”

“How could I not? Her beauty extends beyond the physical. She's incredibly intelligent and the only one to unconditionally show kindness and love to those who deserve it. It’d be incredibly injudicious of me to not be aware of that.”

“Alright, alright Loki, you’ve buttered me up enough.” you chuckled

“It’s never enough, darling. And it’s not buttering you up if it’s true, which it is. So, against your wishes, I shall continue to do it.”

You rolled your eyes and smiled. Looking down at his hands, you placed yours on top of his and gazed into his eyes once more. Glancing down to his lips and back up to his eyes, you slowly leaned in, Loki meeting you halfway. A kiss so tender you forgot it was Loki whose lips were tangled in a dance with your own. 

Loki moved his hand out from underneath yours and placed it on your cheek. You pulled away from the kiss and nestled your head into his hand, his thumb caressing your cheek allowing you to relish in the moment of being with each other. Flashing your eyes back up to his you asked,

“Shall we go for a walk?”

“Why not?”

Stuffing your journal and pen back into your satchel you untangled your legs and got up from the bench, Loki helping you stand up so that you didn’t trip on your dress. Taking your hand in his own, you two walked through the garden on a path that would eventually lead you to the entrance of the palace. 

“I’ve missed you Loki. I always miss you, I hate being away from you.”

“I know my love, I do as well, but you of all people know our predicament.”

You stopped in your tracks and turned in haste to stop him as well, making him face you. You brought both your hands up to cup his face, an idea flashing bright behind your eyes,

“Well, maybe we can change it! We can be the change to get rid of this stupid rule. I can’t imagine my life without you Loki. I don’t want to have to share my world with someone else. It’s only ever going to be you.” 

Bringing his hands up to your wrists, he looked deep into your eyes, sorrow and hope swimming behind his facial features. 

“Maybe we can, although we have to prepare for the worst...but that doesn't mean we can’t try.”

Giving a small smile, he moved his hands to the back of your head, thumb caressing your temple, and leaned in to kiss you. Giving you all the reassurance you could’ve asked for. Pulling away from each other you continued down the path hand in hand. Closing your eyes you took a deep breath, serenity washing over you. 

Opening your eyes, you realized you were closing in on the front of the palace meaning you would now be in the public eye and the last thing you wanted was more gossip to fall upon you. Looking at your lover, you stopped walking, halting him in his tracks. Forcing him to turn around and look at you.

“What is it?”

You sighed, suddenly being overcome with emotion.

“Well, if we walked any further, everyone would see us and I wouldn’t want to cause any trouble for you…”

“...Trouble? For me?”

Loki scoffed, his signature smirk following.

“Love, all I’m known for is for causing trouble, I wouldn’t mind another notch on my belt.”

You were hesitant. You loved Loki and you knew your feelings were reciprocated through him, but it was difficult breaking from the chains of what you ‘were supposed to do’. It left you in such dissonance and yet you felt in your heart to rebel so fiercely that Asgard would immortalize your change. Your silence alerted Loki and he spoke again,

“Y/N, if we are to ever make any sort of change we cannot hide in the shadows anymore. We cannot separate and scatter like roaches when the light is shined upon us. We must bask in it. That is the only way we can possibly aspire to reach our goal of loving one another in true fulfillment.”

“You’re right.”

“I always am.”

You placed your hand back in his and Loki smiled down at you. 

“Ready to have the target on your back, Y/N?”

“As long as you’re by my side, I can handle anything.”

Walking out of the secluded area of the garden, you finally stepped into the light. For the first time in the last year being open about your courtship with Loki. Asgard’s God of Mischief and your parent’s worst nightmare. You felt armored for anything to be hurled in your direction with Loki was by your side and always would be. 

The anxiety of it all had yet to drain from your bones and you couldn’t help but draft up ‘what ifs’ in your head. As if Loki was scavenging through your brain, he gave your hand an inspiriting squeeze, bringing you back into your body and out of your head. If only you knew how the whispers of your choice in partnership would rain the fires of hell all too soon.

[i8jisoo]

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐒 ⇉ skz with pregnant!reader

seungmin x reader | part seven of dad!skz

↬ genre; fluff & angst

↬ warnings; obviously pregnancy, talk of sex/condoms, talk of morning sickness, cursing, child-birth

↬ notes; i feel like my mental health is getting worse and it has been really hard to be positive but i finished this awhile ago, never posted it! just thought to post it today since i just reached 500 followers,, tysm everyone for the support on my posts and following me for content,, i’m waiting for enhypen debut rnnn, it’s really one of the only things keeping me happy n ready. my bias is jungwon :) he’s so adorable n cute i can’t wait + i hope to start writing for enhypen soon when i feel better,, ty guys <3

the night was a one night stand

seungmin had no plans to see you after, you already gone by the morning so it made no different what he wanted afterwards

so with his number in your phone, you decided that texting him would be the best

you texted him your address, asking him to meet with you after u addressed who you were

the best maybe after twelve, seeing as how from nine to eleven you would be occupied with the toilet bowl, the morning sickness really weighing on you

hes there, ready to talk, looking great

ur just there in a t-shirt and sweatpants with slightly messy hair

you seat him on ur couch, pacing in the kitchen before actually beginning to talk

“it broke, or maybe you forgot. i don’t know but you, you got me pregnant.”

i honestly see seungmin being really innocent in this and he’s just made a bad decision which resulted in a baby

“wh-what? no, i used.. i..”

it dawns on him that he can’t remember slipping on a condom before

he’s turned white as a sheet, probably feeling more ill than you

he does the math, figuring you’re around two months, you’re not that far along obviously

“we don’t have to do this, you hardly know me.”

hes shaking his head quickly, “nono, i wanna.. i may never get this chance again. i might not ever meet someone again, so, if it’s with you? i’m fine with that.”

seungmin was there for the next appointment, fully supportive and stepping up

hes scared but so excited

he also moves out of the dorms, raising flags, but he keeps assuring everyone that he was just getting a change of scenery

he claims he got a dog but uh, there isn’t one

he actually moves in with u, an apartment that wasn’t too far away from the dorms and he will time to time spend the night if they need him to

ur actually really understanding of his career and u admire his adjustment

late night with him where u two go to a twenty-four hour convenience store and buy every junk food possible

u also acquired strange cravings such a pineapple and cream cheese or kimchi and chocolate sauce

that night however u rly had a craving for cheese and cheese only

it doesn’t last however, from three to five you are in the bathroom hunched over

he?? isnt?? actually?? the worst partner to get pregnant from a one stand with?????????????????????????????????????????

he’s pretty much a sweetheart

bless everyones heart though when they find out about you

“this is my friend, we are.. having a uh, baby!”

haha surprise...

u swore that jisung’s breath was lost when he said that

chan is fucken freaking out about this

“we’re gonna be uncles!”

everybody screaming and cheering which was a good sign

ur days are average and u guys just act like friends

friends having a baby lmfao

it’s a fine line between dating and not dating

seungmin reaaalllyy likes you but he has this bit of guilt in him for getting you pregnant

ur the one who uprooted your life and ur gonna have a kid for the rest of ur life with him and he’s still living his and doing what he loves

seungmin heart eyes motherfucker when u come to a concert, just there to see him n see what he does for a living

u guys get this cute ass picture of everyone lmfao i just imagine the boys and seungmin standing around and posing with ur small bump

he doesn’t get to go to every single appointment, so his first appointment he went to was when you were around six and a half months

he’s super excited and just super nervous

so many expecting moms its crazy

when your name is called and you two go back, he’s jumping out of his seat and going back with you

the doctor applies the gel on your stomach, the rounded bump sticking out prominently

his hand clasps around yours, fingers laced with yours and he gives you a warm smile

the screen flickers on and theres your baby

it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen

he can clearly see the legs and arms, theres the head!!! he can make out the toes and fingers

then u guys get to hear the heartbeat together

it’s so strong and he just,, wow.. this is real 😣

ur bearing his child, your guys’ baby,, he can hardly believe it

then the doctor asks if u two want to know the gender

“yeah.” 🥺🥺🥺

ofc u could’ve known before but u didn’t know if seungmin wanted to find out or wait n u just would feel guilty if u went ahead

he was rly trying to be as involved as possible, he had a busy schedule and u two weren’t even dating and this whole thing was happening secretly

they turn the monitor for you two to look at, pointing around

“there they are, we have a baby boy.”

seungmin is so taken aback, this all is so .. unreal for him

he’s ready to get the disc with ur ultrasound footage n the heartbeat but also the ultrasound photos 🥺 he’s so in love with your baby boy

u two are just sitting in the office after, ur wiping off ur belly n he’s just like

“i’m in love with you. you and our son — i know, we agreed to co-parenting and no feelings but,” his voice is so strained n he’s just so fragile n so utterly raw, “i couldn’t help it.”

ur fact at first is just frozen and slightly shocked

then ur like 😮🥺😣

“no, cause i was thinking the same exact thing.”

that seals the deal for u two pretty much, ur both emotional wrecks in the exam room

theres the boyfriend and girlfriend dynamic now — seungmin and you sleeping cuddled together

it wasn’t like you two didn’t cuddle before,, but it would usually end up with seungmin silently creeping out of bed or you softly removing his arm or you leaving him gently

u rely on him more, the final trimester hard on you and ur so exhausted and hurting

u two getting the nursery ready together which actually consists of u sitting down rather than actually doing anything

though u will have to teach this boy how to put away bibs and fold baby clothes

u two are young and u both have a lot of explaining to do to your own families, but they are supportive

they r more than happy to teach u two about children and giving tips on these things

blue nursery with lil teddy bears around and its just the cutest, props to room designer seungmin 🤓

baby boy is so stubborn, you’re past your due date and you both want him out

you two try a shit ton of things

name it all: pineapple, spicy foods, raspberry tea, daily walks around the block, literally everything

everything except for the obvious that had been recommended by your obgyn

sex.

both of you two hadn’t really explored in the topic of sex or anything of the sort, it was slightly awkward

you’re five days overdue now, which now you couldn’t even care

“please..! they said it works, even our ob said so!”

he is so cautious about this, but begrudgingly decides to proceed with this idea

he’s so sweet 🥺 but maybe a little too sweet because next thing you know is that two short hours later ur water breaks and u are in labor!!!!

both of you are vv nervous

his hyungs are right there to calm him down, asking you if ur okay and if u need anything

they rly adore their lil minnies baby mama & their lil nephew

seungmin is big daddy deffo

he’s so attached to u 🥺 it hurts to see u in so much pain and he can’t do much to take it away, but he will kiss ur forehead and wipe ur tears away

he personally finds u so angelic as u are quite literally coated in sweat and nearly breaking his hand

it’s finally over, you and seungmin both turning to the tiny baby that just came into the world, both of u crying while laughing at the beet red baby

theres your little baby boy in your arms, squirming at the new coldness and trying to move around in the blanket

all of the boys come in, excited to meet the baby

in amazement you made this adorable, small baby after one night

this experience was everything and more to you both, so glad you weren’t as careful one night and now had the greatest gift given to you: your small son who slept soundly in your arms

©️ maysdiors 2020 :: all rights reserved. do not repost my work on tumblr or other platforms.

[primasveraas-writing]

"Kent v Linebacker" -Ted Lasso

Roy's knee is fucked. This is well known.

His fucking monster child, who he loves, accidentally fucks it up more. Such is life.

Part 2 // Accompanying AU

WORDS: 2631

XXX

Their first son is “built like a linebacker,” according to Ted Lasso. Roy shows his usual disdain at the reference to the wrong type of football, but Keeley wearily agrees- she was, after all, the one who carried then delivered their 10-pound baby.

Most people see their son and suggest rugby instead of football, even as they pile tiny Kent jerseys and footballs onto the new parents. Roy insists he doesn’t give a damn if their child wants to play rugby or football or join the damn chess club, but he also tears up the first time Keeley puts him in a tiny (or maybe just small) Richmond jersey.

Because of the way Roy and Keeley are, they balance each other out. Marriage and parenthood come to them relatively smoothly, save for typical growing pains and bumps in the road. But they figure it out, at least for the most part.

One of the more persistent bumps is Roy’s knee. Because, while he was forced to walk away from playing football, Roy is reluctant to accept other limitations. He’ll run or dance or carry around the baby’s new crib, and then swear and pop his knee back into place as needed. Doctors eventually find this out and inform him that this is, in fact, bad. Roy Kent tells them to fuck off. He doesn’t echo this sentiment when Keeley suggests that they’re right.

Because, as usual, she seems to have a point. It doesn’t always take a miles-long Christmas day walk or a rom-com style sprint to Ted Lasso to fuck up Roy’s knee. Somedays, it’s going down the stairs one too many times. Or standing up long enough to make Keeley a fancy dinner. Or jumping around in the coaches’ box after a Richmond win. So Roy concedes this matter, and anyway, he doesn’t particularly enjoy moving his kneecap around or Phoebe’s and Keeley’s face when he does so.

Roy scales back, reluctantly and unhappily. He does modified yoga with the moms and they suggest stretches to help him. Roy doesn’t push himself nearly as much, and so the pain in his daily life decreases.

Then Roy becomes a father, and then his son becomes a toddler.

Oliver is a fucking ray of sunshine. He’s inherited Keeley’s bubbly personality, something evident from his first dazzling smile and the peals of laughter that soon follow. When he starts to talk, he does so incessantly, and he puts every ounce of his energy into babbling and running literal circles around his parents. Even Keeley- even Ted Lasso, occasional babysitter- struggle to keep up. But Roy and Keeley and the Richmond team do their level best to entertain and supervise him, and it works.

Then, because they’re fucking daft, Roy and Keeley decide they want another fucking monster to turn their lives all upside down.

Oliver is three when they tell him he’s going to be a big brother. He’s overjoyed, then he cries, then he’s comforted, then he’s overjoyed again. Roy is the happiest he’s ever fucking been with his son, and Keeley pregnant, and then life comes along and fucks it all up again.

Father and son are just home from preschool, Oliver restarting his long-winded recap of his day when he sees Keeley. Roy hobbles through the door behind him, grinning at Keeley for half a second. She beams back at him, then returns her attention to their child, brows furrowing as she tries to decipher his somewhat senseless story.

Roy’s standing by Keeley’s side, hand on her shoulder as they listen the best they can. Oliver reaches a part of his tale that’s especially exciting- something about cupcakes and a classmate’s birthday, and he gives a shout, then springs up with his arms spread wide, and-

-forty pounds of force collide with Roy’s bad leg. He hears Keely gasp, which is what registers first, then his vision goes white as pain overtakes him, and he feels himself falling.

He opens his eyes a moment later, and Keeley is crouching at his side awkwardly, the swell of her stomach hindering her. Oliver gives a noise that indicates he’s probably about to cry, and Roy shushes him through a groan.

“Fuck,” Roy says, his voice strained. “I’m okay.”

Keeley purses her lips, which indicates she’s well aware of his lie, but she draws Oliver against her side, rubbing circles into his back as she takes Roy’s hand.

“It hasn’t been this bad before, has it?”

Roy shakes his head. “I think I’m fucked,” he confesses, trying to keep the uncertainty and pain out of his words.

“ER fucked?”

“Fuck no.”

“Can you get up, Roy?” Keeley would sound impatient if not for the way her tone wavers. Roy shifts, babying his leg, and Keeley watches as he winces, cringes, and swears again.

Keeley whispers something to Oliver, and he sniffs loudly before scampering off into the kitchen. His wife stands, unsteady and off-balance, and reaches down to help him. Roy uses only his left leg to rise, trying not to knock Keeley over, and he staggers before grabbing the back of the couch to steady himself. Keeley holds onto his elbow and guides him around so he can sit.

“I’m fucked,” Roy reiterates, and this time, Keeley just nods.

-

In the end, there’s no ER visit- just a few pulled strings to get Roy into the doctor the next day. Rebecca stops by to deliver crutches and a few bottles of painkillers once Keeley realizes that Roy can’t get to the bathroom- or anywhere else, for that matter- on his own. More reluctantly, Ted is called, and he promises to give Oliver the “best darn sleepover since the movie Sleepover.” Roy isn’t particularly keen on Ted being privy to this particular moment of weakness, but Ted leaves with Oliver quickly enough, and Keeley’s pretty sure that even just a few minutes of exposure to Ted is enough to force some positivity into Roy’s outlook, and for that, she’s grateful.

Roy sleeps on the couch that night, as stairs are out of the question. Even if he could manage to struggle up them, he can only imagine coming back down via a painful fall. He’s alone, too, because, despite Keeley’s protests, he’s not about to let his pregnant wife sleep anywhere but a proper bed.

He lies awake long after kissing and texting Keeley goodnight, and he contemplates the quiet of the house and the apparent severity of the situation. The doctor had wanted Roy to come in today, but she didn’t throw a fit when he insisted he could wait. Instead, he’ll see her tomorrow, first thing, and Ted will take his son to school, and Keeley and Roy will both miss work for Roy’s least-favorite type of doctor’s appointment.

-

“You dislocated your kneecap again,” Doctor Patel explains, gesturing to an x-ray of a very fucked up knee. “The first time, you twisted it.” She points to a slightly less fucked up x-ray. “But continually dislocating your knee weakened the ligaments. So, when Oliver collided with you, your ACL and meniscus tore completely.”

“That’s why it hurt so damn much.”

Patel nods, then sighs. “You mentioned chronic pain worsening over time- you did everything right, trying to keep it at bay, but this- along with additional trauma- can worsen a knee injury.”

Roy grunts. He expected as much. The first doctor he saw after his final match had warned of this, along with things like arthritis and all sorts of complications. His main worry was that his football career was over, and there was nothing he could do about that, so any accompanying outcomes seemed unimportant.

He was wrong, apparently.

“It’s not unusual for these injuries to get worse over time. Especially when you’re not gentle with yourself. But, your symptoms are indicative of severe tearing. I’m also worried about nerve damage.”

“So what do we do now?”

Keeley is the one who asks, gripping Roy’s hand. He glances at her, then squeezes her hand.

Patel hesitates. Roy likes this doctor- her knowledge and honesty have been extremely comforting to both him and Keeley over the years. She doesn’t take bullshit, not even Roy’s, and he appreciates that about her.

But it’s unusual for her to hesitate.

“I believe our best option is open knee surgery,” she says, and her eyes soften when Roy’s jaw clenches. “There are other routes we can pursue, but we’re at a point where they may not be as effective.

“What are they?”

“We can do more tests and try an arthroscopic surgery or other minimally invasive options, but-”

Roy tunes her out. He’s the last football player of his generation- he’s seen everyone he played with at the beginning of his career retire, and the various injuries that forced this fate upon his fellow footballers. Open knee surgery is a big fucking deal. Especially since he’s not a fucking grandma.

“It’s a long fucking recovery time,” Roy says finally.

A nod.

“We have a baby due in three months.” This time, Keeley squeezes Roy’s hand.

“If all goes well, you’ll be walking unassisted by then. Enough for midnight diaper changes, so long as you don’t sprint into the nursery.”

“And it’ll work best?”

“I can say with reasonable confidence that your case is severe enough to warrant this surgery, and that the other surgeries aren’t typically successful in similar cases.”

“Fuck. Let’s do it.”

-

They schedule surgery for a few days later, which is a quick turnaround, but it’s enough time for two Richmond matches to take place. The first falls on the day after Roy’s doctor visit, and the second one is the day of the surgery. This gives him pause- Roy’s first and longest love is football, and he’s loath to step away, even for a week. But he thinks of Oliver, hesitant to hug his father when they get home, and Keeley, sneaking glances at him as if expecting him to break when she’s not looking.

Roy trudges- or limps- forward. He stays home for the first Richmond match and tries to ignore Keeley scrolling through Twitter with a worried look on her face. They had debated what would be worse- to miss the match with no explanation, or for Roy to show up on crutches and in obvious pain. In the end, the desire for privacy (and maybe easing Roy’s discomfort) won out, and Keeley and Roy and Oliver watch the match from their living room. Roy and Oliver shout at the TV, and Keeley livetweets, and it’s okay until the post-match conference.

“Coach Lasso! Roy Kent was missing from the coaches’ box tonight. Can you explain why? Has there been a professional change or has something personal occurred?”

Ted holds up a hand, stemming the reporter’s flow of questions. He smiles at her easily, but Roy knows that no matter what Ted says, there’ll be speculation. A nonanswer is still an answer, but they decided as a team to keep the public in the dark as long as possible, to maintain any privacy Roy has.

“Roy and his family are jus’ fine, thank you. As far as I know, Roy hasn’t decided to leave our coaching team, so we’re all good there.” Ted clears his throat, and Roy wonders if his mentor is uncomfortable telling half-truths to the press. “Roy needed some personal time away, but I expect you’ll be seeing him back again shortly. Thanks.”

“Well, that wasn’t complete shit,” Roy muses in near-approval. Keeley hums noncommittally.

“No,” she agrees, pleased. “And I livetweeted the whole thing so nobody thinks one of us is dying.”

“Perfect,” Roy says, satisfied. So long as they don’t get hounded on the way to the hospital. He looks down at his lap, where Oliver is curled against him, fast asleep. Roy moves slightly so that he can wrap his arm around his son, and sighs.

Keeley looks up at them and grins as she takes in the sight. “Look at my boys,” she says softly, and Roy’s heart melts just a little.

-

Surgery goes well, and Roy leaves the hospital the same day. His memories of the event and the hours after are fuzzy, but Keeley informs him that he watched the Richmond match while the anesthetic wore off, and proceeded to shout an absolutely incomprehensible mix of words and swears at the TV. Richmond lost, but it was hard fought, and it’s days later when Keeley confesses to Roy that he actually cried once the final result was clear. Roy would be less concerned by this if he could remember it at all, but at the same time, he’s reassured that his plan of being totally unaffected by major surgery and attending the match in person didn’t pan out.

Roy quickly decides he’s utterly useless on crutches, instead letting Oliver expend his energy by fetching things like water and painkillers and phone chargers for his dad. There’s plenty for him to do; Oliver thrives with given purpose, and under the extra attention Roy has to spare. He hates being unable to carry his son, but he can still cuddle with him, and draw with him, and even though Keeley is burdened with bathing and chasing after Oliver, Roy can still fucking help here and there. Like telling Oliver to eat his broccoli or clean up his shit, because vegetables are fucking important and his son isn’t a slob.

His return to Richmond is less smooth. He doesn’t want anybody’s fucking pity, least of all from the boys on the team, or from Ted Fucking Lasso, but instead of the fearful reactions Roy’s used to, Roy’s treated with a gentleness he absolutely fucking despises. Nobody wants to push back against his heightened grumpiness (a side effect of knee surgery is that it fucking hurts and this makes Roy very unhappy), and Ted somehow feels obligated to hang back with him as he limps up to the field each day. His fellow coach also launches into several tirades about his and Beard’s and his great uncle Roger’s various injuries over the years, and Roy ends his first week back feeling, unfortunately, closer to all three men, including the one he’s never fucking met in the first place.

Keeley’s made sure to officially announce that he’s had surgery, explaining away his absence and all the speculation that went with it. The press will likely hound him anyways, but Roy already has his response planned (“Fuck off!”).

The crowd cheers him during their next match. He hobbles slowly behind the rest of the coaches, using one crutch even though he really should be using both, swearing under his breath at the soft terrain and his shit balance and fucking kneecaps for being so fragile in the first place. Keeley would say all this support is sweet, and he catches a glimpse of her beaming at him from the stands, Oliver bouncing on her lap, and the agony and humiliation dulls.

Richmond plays a great fucking game. It’s not their best match ever, but they win and celebrate accordingly. Roy makes his excuses earlier than usual; he knows he’s put Keeley through the wringer in the past week, and Oliver keeps rubbing his eyes, and there’s nothing more that Roy wants than to read his son a fairytale then cuddle with his wife in bed.

So they go home, and do exactly that.

Roy’s last thought before he drifts off that night, having tucked Oliver into bed and kissed Keeley quite thoroughly, is of how fucking perfect his life is. And, although he echoes that thought many more times, one of the more poignant occurrences is when his daughter is born, and he holds her in his arms for the first time.

Yeah. Pretty fucking perfect.

[the-str33tz]

I’m doing just fine

Jotaro Kujo x AFAB Reader

This fic was written while listening to the Boyz II Men song “Doin’ Just Fine”

Summary: Years after leaving you to raise your daughter by yourself, Jotaro Kujo comes back with one thing in mind; wanting to be a father and husband.

Content warnings: Angst, pregnancy, arguing around children.

Your grip on the flimsy pregnancy test tightened as you glanced over the results. Positive. Maybe looking it over again will give you a different result. Positive. Blink a couple times. Positive, positive, positive. Your world came to a halt as you shiver while sitting on the toilet. What were you going to do? You weren’t ready for a child at your age. What would you tell him?

Thoughts of your boyfriend wave and crash in your mind. Jotaro Kujo, the silent and cold man from Japan who you had fallen in love with. In just a bit over year you both had become each others rock. He had walked into your life when you thought everything was lost, and it seemed like it was the same for him too. He didn’t talk too much about it but you could piece it together. He had gone through a traumatic experience as a teenager that left people that he knew dead. You didn’t question him too much, letting him come to you when he was ready.

This was going to crush him as much as it was going to crush you. Jotaro had brought up how eventually he’d like to have a family; have a successful career in marine biology and have multiple sons. But right now you were both in college, living off whatever you can get your hands on. He’s definitely had an easier ride than you but he always helped you without expecting anything in return.

You start to think back to a couple weeks ago when you had sex, an activity you both partook in regularly. There was something different that night, he was out of condoms but you both agreed that he’d be able to pull out in time. It seems that he pulled out a bit late. Embarrassment heats up your neck and up your face. A headache begins to take over when you hear a knock at your apartment door. It has to be Jotaro you think. He was clued in to your scare earlier today so he must be here to see the results.

You quickly clean and dress yourself hearing harsher and faster knocks. He was never the most patient. Running over to the door and greeting him, he lets himself in to walk to the bathroom. You try to catch up to him trying to talk but fumbling your words. You walk into the bathroom where he’s leaning over the counter, hands in fists. He looks over at you with a look in his eyes that you had never seen before. Fear.

You stay where you are, keeping your distance. You never liked too much physical attention and were grateful that he was the same. You can feel your forehead crease with your eyebrows, your eyes beginning to sting from keeping your eyes open at him. “What are we going to do?” You cough up while shaking. He loosens his fists, “We now have a responsibility as parents, but I can’t do this.” And with that he pushed you aside and started to head out the door. You lean against the door frame finally letting loose all the tears that refused to come out moments ago.

Seven years later you live in a small home with your daughter who you named Jolyne. She is the apple of your eye, your sunshine that motivates you everyday. She has green eyes that she got from her fathers side of the family but she looked like you in every other way. You had given up your education all those years ago but seeing your daughter run to you everyday after school made you think that you’d do it all over again if you had to. You make your way up the walkway of the tiny primary school, strain in your ankles from a long day of work. Thoughts of dinner swirling your mind before you stop in your tracks. Jolyne hugging her teachers leg looking away while a tall man with a ripped cap talking to the teacher knocks you into reality. There’s no possibility right? He wouldn’t have the balls to try to sidestep you to see your daughter. But you were proved wrong after you jog up to the teacher.

“Jolynes mother should be here soon I do not know of Jolyne having a father.”

“I’ll wait here to talk with her.”

You catch the end of their conversation, going in to pat your hand on Jolynes back. She turns to you and immediately grips your leg yelling, “Mommy this man says that he’s my dad, is that true?” You look up at the man and you’re immediately taken aback. Turquoise blue eyes are staring you down with the old frown that you used to love. “You really suck you know that?” You scoffed, kneeling down to take Jolyne in for a hug. Her black hair tickling your chin as she nuzzles into your neck. “Yes baby that’s your father like in the pictures remember?” You coo into her ear.

“I came to see you.” He states in his familiar deep voice. You stand up, taking a light grip on Jolynes tiny hand. You give him the strongest glare that you’re able to muster up, snapping, “You probably already know where we live so why did you come here? Forget it, just follow me. We live about a block away.” He grunts and nods at you, allowing you to walk in front of him with your daughter in hand. You thank the teacher for taking care of your daughter before you begin to stomp off.

Jotaro lets his eyes wander down your figure, watching how you walk. He can’t help but feel his chest tighten looking at you hand in hand with his child. This was a sight he had always wanted but he never let himself indulge in it until today. He lets you lead him into your tiny home; two bedrooms with a shared bathroom, a small living area, and a kitchen with little to no counter space. You kneel down again to talk to Jolyne, telling her to go do her homework and to let the grownups speak. She gives Jotaro a small glance before running in her room.

“Where have you been? Why are you here now?”

“I just got back from a trip in Japan for work. I wanted to come back to see how you were doing. I also need to apologize, I made a big mistake. I shouldn’t have walked away from you all those years ago.” Jotaro takes off his white hat letting his hair dark hair fall out of place. You can feel yourself tensing up, you really didn’t want to have this sort of conversation with Jolyne in the house. She doesn’t know everything that happened with Jotaro and you didn’t want her to hear any arguing or yelling. You sigh, “Why did you think showing up at my daughters school was appropriate? You could have called me and we could have spoken in private. I know Jolyne is also your daughter but you haven’t been around as a father, not even when I took that test when we were both twenty one.” You motion for him to sit on the old couch in your living room. One that was on clearance at a rent center years ago when Jolyne was only a year old.

He sits down causing a big dip and creaking. His face goes solemn, looking down at his black and white boots. “I never meant to take your love away like that. I wasn’t ready to be a father and I wanted both of you to be safe.” He looks up at you with disappointment dripping off his features. You sit down next to him, smoothing out your work clothes and relaxing your ankles. “I know you weren’t ready to be a father but you know what Jotaro? I wasn’t ready to be a mother either. You left me alone, I had to leave university so I could raise my baby the way she deserves. You got to finish your education and seem to be doing well, I don’t know why you think making a tired apology will do you any better.” You whispered close to him. His eyes hadn’t left yours, listening intently to what you had to say. He leaned close to you acknowledging, “I am aware of the sacrifices you made for our daughter, I didn’t allow myself to be the proper father I should be. Please allow me to be a part of her life. I know you’ve most likely moved on from our love but I’ve thought about you everyday since then. I sat in my dorm, refusing to leave because I didn’t want to have to go out. I didn’t want to see you walk by and breakdown. Please understand that I’ve wanted to be the father and husband that you both deserve but I thought that I’d bring you nothing but danger. I need to be here for both of you, I want to give you a better home and a better life. Let me take care of you.”

You could feel tears wanting to spill out, why did he think he would be too dangerous to be around both of you? Could it have something to do with what happened to him when he was a teenager? “It may seem hard to believe but I’m doing just fine. We’ve been getting along very well without you. Time has made me stronger and you’re not longer on my mind.” That bit at the end was a lie, you thought about him everyday like he had about you. You had a picture of him in your wallet and in one of the drawers in your bedroom. He placed a hand over yours, covering it completely and squeezing lightly.

“You are my earth, my number one priority. You were the last woman I gave my love to, and I plan for it to only be you. You could ask me to do anything and it’d be as good as done.” Jotaro moves his other hand up to lay over your shoulder, wrapping it around your back. You sink into his white coat letting your tears waterfall down your face. He soothes your back warmly while wrapping his arms around you, squeezing you into his chest. “I really needed you Jotaro I really did. You let our love fall apart and I really want to say that you no longer have my heart and that I’m doing just fine. I haven’t had too much time to worry about myself because I’m everywhere doing everything.” He lets you ramble on against him.

You pull back after a while, looking back into his turquoise eyes, “I’ll only allow you back if Jolyne is okay to have you around. I want her to have the choice to get to know you but if she doesn’t want to, I won’t force her.” He nods, squeezing your hand again before letting his thumb rub across the back of your hand.

[jadedxrealityw]

-Never Meant To Be- Draco Malfoy x Female Reader

    ☼-🐍-☼

   Request: What about a angsty fic with Draco where he doesn't want to reveal that he's with a Hufflepuff (even tho she's a pureblood) bc of his image, and she sees him flirting with Pansy and she decides to ignore him until he realizes that she's ignoring him, and he wants to approach but her friend is like "dude u fucked up i have to console her every five seconds" fluffy ending pls!

   Kody: damn, i can’t make Pansy gay in here. Sad pog. I also added some extra odds and ends for plot. I hope you still like it anyhow! Also no voldy moldy action. before i get questions, i am indeed fully aware that Fred, George, and Cedric are older then the rest of them. I just do not care lmao. 

   Year: 7th

   House: Hufflepuff

   Possible Triggers/Warnings: cursing, angst, Draco sadly being character, Cedric being the bestest of friends, eventual fluff

   ☼-🐍-☼

   you had always fantasized about what having a lover was like. Full of love, honesty, and trust. Who knew you would get secrecy and lies instead. You were in a secret relationship with the one and only Draco Malfoy. It had started almost a whole year ago.

   yes. You both were well into graduating soon and still had to sneak around to be together. You might be wondering why right? Draco truly loved you, but he was terrified of his father. Even if you were a pureblood, you weren’t a Slytherin. So if he wanted to keep you, he’d have to hide you. 

   Draco set ground rules so “We don’t disappoint anyone” you wished he had worded that differently. To sum up the short list, no interacting in public or any public displays of affection. Your were his dirty little secret. You would never want to hurt his feelings, because you loved him.

   so you agreed to his rule, but slowly it started to become unbearable. Seeing each other for little amounts each week was painful. Especially how when you were apart, Draco was the same old taunter he always was. You wondered if you made an effect on him at all.

   you were lucky you didn’t have to bare this sorrow alone. Your best friend, Cedric Diggory had found out about your little love affair when he found Draco’s Quidditch jersey in your dorm. You eventually caved and told him and ever since Cedric loathed the Slytherin seeker.

    ☼-🐍-☼

   “I’m starving” Cedric grumbled as he walked alongside you, scratching the back of his neck. He had early quidditch practice and had just came back from the showers to eat breakfast, while you had just woken up and were wearing your pjs still. 

   it was a saturday morning after students had been taking exams all week. So every Hogwarts student was in there pajamas at the moment and no one cared. “Yeah me too. After all the exams i can’t wait to graduate in a week now” you chuckle, reaching up to rub your E/c eyes.

   Cedric nods “Yeah, me and Harry have been talking about moving in together after we graduate” he says, a smile forming on his face. You gasp, nudging his arm with your shoulder “That’s great! i’m happy for you, really” he enjoys your enthusiasm, but his smile fades “What?” you question.

   he looks behind him before answering “What about you and Malfoy. What are your plans?” your expression drops. “Um well, we haven’t really talked about it. He has to work around his parents and all that” Cedric knew that explanation was bullshit. He didn’t believe Draco wanted to keep you around at all. 

   but for the sake of your heart, he sucked it up. Putting a smile he wraps an arm around your shoulders “That’s awesome Y/n. Now onwards, food awaits!” he exclaims. You break out into a fit of laughter before the both of you make your way to the great hall.

    ☼-🐍-☼

   “Cedric!” Harry shouts as soon as both of you walk through the great hall doors. Cedric leads you over to the Gryffindor table and you take a seat next to Luna. On the right side was Cedric, Harry, Hermione, and Ron. On the right side, your side sat George, Luna, then you. 

   “Geez, we’re all wearing our pjs aren’t we?” Hermione pointed out and you all let out a chuckle. “Can you blame us? Exams were such a drag. I’m surprised i didn’t throw myself off the school building” Ron scoffs. “At least they are over now. I have so many naps to catch up on” Luna sighs, leaning on Georges shoulder.

   suddenly, the food appeared on the table and you could hear the chorus of cheers come from students. Everyone started to pile the array of breakfast foods with haste. George managed to snatch the last serving of pudding and put it on Luna’s plate. You wondered if Draco would do that for you.

   you grab some french toast and piled on a hoard of bacon on your plate. “Oh merlin. Draco Stop!” a cackle bursted through the great hall, causing your small group to turn your heads towards the noise. Sat at the Slytherin table was Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy, your boyfriend. Flirting.

   “What? I mean it. Your very pretty” a sharp pain came to your chest. This hasn’t happened before. Draco flirting with Pansy. He had never done this before. Why was he doing this? “Y/n?” Cedric looked up at you and reached across the table to grab your hand.

   Pansy gripped Draco’s bicep, a flirty smile playing on her features. She was beautiful and everything he could ever want. She was enough. You suddenly felt sick to your stomach and pushed up from the bench. “Y/n-” “I have to use the bathroom” you said before Cedric could get a word in.

   you began to walk away and out the great hall. ‘Damnit Draco. Why do you have to be like this?’ you thought as tears started to form in your eyes, rolling down your cheeks. You wipe them quickly and harshly. All you wanted was to be alone. 

    ☼-🐍-☼

   you had spent the whole breakfast crying in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. She cried with you as well. The sound of students flooded the halls and you knew that meant your friends would be looking for you. That also meant Draco would be waiting for you. 

   meeting up with Draco in the astronomy tower had become like second nature, but you didn’t want to seem him. It would hurt to much cause as soon as you would look into those grey eyes the look he gave Pansy would burn into your mind a million times over. 

   you just couldn’t. You get up from the floor, wiping your eyes “Thanks Myrtle. Your nice to talk to” you said. The ghost girl smiles, hovering over the ground “No worries! Now i must tend to my studies!” she exclaims flying into her stall. 

   smiling, you walk out the bathroom and are instantly met with the sight of your friends standing in front of the entrance. George, Luna, Cedric, Harry. “What’re you guys doing out here?” you asked, tilting your head. “We we’re waiting for you so we can hang out” Cedric smiled, his arm around Harry.

   “Hang out? Where? Shouldn’t we change out of our pj's?” you questioned. George shook his head “Nah, i’m taking all of you to my dorm for an unofficial pajama party. Now onwards and upwards” he grabbed Luna’s hand and skipped along with her.

   “Wheres Ron and Hermione by the way?”

   “Said they were busy. So probably making out somewhere”

   “ah okay”

    ☼-🐍-☼

   all of you went into the Gryffindor house and into Georges dorm passing Fred who decided to tag along because he had nothing to do today. As you all settled in George and Luna sat on the bed while Cedric, Harry, Fred, and you took the floor.

   you four sat on pillows and blankets. “Now now. I have an entire stash of sugar quills!” George announced as he pulls out a box out from under his bed. He reaches in and grabs a blue one, blueberry and hands it to Luna “These aren’t tampered with right George?” you asked as he walked over to you.

   “I gave one to Luna. Your safe, for now” He sent you a playful wink making you laugh. Fred grabbed an orange one, Harry a watermelon, and Cedric a Strawberry. George went over to you and you reached in without thinking. You liked all the flavors so why not. You grasp one and pull it out.

   green apple. George goes back over to the bed and unwraps a pineapple flavored sugar quill. Everyone unwrapped there’s as well. You looked at the quill and it reminded you of Draco. Draco, your boyfriend. Your Slytherin boyfriend who flirted with another girl.

   Snap!

   you look down at your hands. You snapped the sweet in half, leaving the middle of it in small crumbles that were leaking out the package. “Woah, what did the sugar quill do to you?” Fred says, reaching over to grab it from your hands. 

   “Flirt with another girl, treat me like i’m some sort of stain on his life, hide me away from everyone even though all i want to do is be with him. All the time!” You sputtered out, your hand going over to your mouth. Awkward silence filled the room. A ant could be heard crawling around if you listened hard enough now.

   “Y/n” Cedric spoke, sympathy was present in his tone. You felt tears welling up in your eyes again “What- What’s going on?” George spoke up, getting off the bed along with Luna. They all sat in front of you now with a look of expectancy. “I have something to tell you guys”

   Cedric shook his head “You don’t have to tell them Y/n” he said “Tell us what? Cedric?” Harry looked at his boyfriend who just gave him a sympathetic smile. You took a deep breath “I had a boyfriend for almost a year now” you said, eyes widening around you. “You what!” The twins said at the same time.

   they both quiet down after Cedric glared at them “It’s Draco Malfoy” you added. A smile forms on Luna’s face “I know” she spoke in her soft voice. George snaps his head in her direction “and you didn’t tell me?!” he exclaimed, her smile staying. “It wasn’t my secret to tell Georgie”

   the Weasley twin just sighed and pressed a kiss to her temple, mumbling something about her always being right. “You’ve been dating Malfoy for almost a year now and kept it a secret because, why?” Harry spoke up. You exhale before answering “He’s scared of what his father would think”

   Fred shook his head “More like his reputation. Wasn’t he all over Parkinson at breakfast. Word spreads at Hogwarts” he scoffs. You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. “Y/n you have to start thinking about your future, with out Malfoy” Cedric speaks, rubbing your back with his hand.

   “But-” “-But nothing Y/n. I love you like a sister and i know you love him, but he’s just using you. After graduation he’s going to throw you away because that’s who Draco Malfoy is, a user and a asshole who cares about his reputation more then what’s in front of him” Cedric was fuming with anger.

   Harry wraps his arms around him, his head digging into the Hufflepuffs back. Cedric visibly calms and leans back into Harry “Sorry” he mumbles. Tears streamed down your face as Fred pulls your body next to his, wrapping his arms around you. He presses a firm kiss to your head “It’ll be okay princess”

   will it though?

    ☼-🐍-☼

    you avoided Draco Malfoy all sunday and monday. You had time to think about what you wanted and what Draco wanted. As much as you didn’t want to think about what Cedric had said, your mind did. Maybe he was right. Maybe Draco was using you for all you were worth.

   As Cedric walked the halls with Fred Weasley a certain platinum blond stopped in front of him “Diggory. A word please” he spoke, with slight irritation. “What in the hell do you want Malfoy?” he snapped back. Fred had a small grin on his face.

   Draco looked at Fred and eyed him up and down before looking back at Cedric “Alone” he says. Fred raises his hands up before nudging Cedrics shoulder. Fred walks down the hall, leaving the two alone, per Draco’s request. “Okay speak” the hufflepuff crossed his arms.

   “Wheres Y/n? i haven’t talked to her in three days. Is she okay?” Cedric hated how worried Draco suddenly sounded now after what he did. Cedric let out a bitter laugh “You can drop the act Malfoy. We both know you could care less about Y/n. Don’t you have pug face anyway?”

   Draco suddenly realized what was going on. He sighs and rubs a hand over his face “Shit. Look she was coming onto me, i was just messing around. What right do you have in our relationship anyway?” he said, clearly taking offense to his questioning. Cedric. Fucking. Snapped.

   “Seriously!? Everytime you fuck up i’m there to pick up the fucking pieces! She’s so stupidly in love with you, for some reason that she ignores it and moves on everytime! She broke down in front of me on saturday because of the stupid shit you did!” Cedric was co close to punching him the face.

   he took a couple deep breaths and stepped back while Draco stood frozen “Your not there because you don’t care Malfoy. I never said anything to her before because i wanted her to be happy, but i did on saturday. You will always care about reputation more than Y/n and she knows that now”

   with those parting words Cedric turned on his heels and walked away. Draco blinked mindlessly before walking back as well. 

   ☼-🐍-☼

   Thursday. One day till graduation. You were holding a box full of colored tinsel that needed to be in the great hall so the planning committee could hang it up. You were passing by in a empty hallway “Need any help, love?” you stop mid step, turning to your left.

   “Draco?” you slowly place the box down and look up at him. He seems nervous. He takes a step, arms reaching out for a hug but you step back instead. “Love, what you saw with Pansy i-” “You don’t have to explain Draco, i understand” you nod once. A smile grows on your face.

   “Oh thank merlin. Let’s drop this off and hang out somewhere, yeah?” he asked, but you shake your head “I understand that no matter how much i want to be with you. We’re just to different. Draco, we don’t work” you spoke, about to lean down and pick up the box again when Draco grabs your arms.

   “If Diggory said i don’t love you that’s the farthest from the truth. I am in love with you Y/n L/n, it’s just my father and the public eye on me. Please don’t do this i- i- can’t live without you” Draco was breaking down in front of you and it was a sight to see.

   you held your composure the best you could, practically forcing yourself to not breakdown as well and hug him close to you. Instead you smile lightly and remove his hands from your arms “I don’t doubt you love me, but you should be with somebody your father approves of if his opinion matters that much to you. It’s okay Draco. It was never meant to be. Have a good life”

   you bend down to pick up the box, leaving the Slytherin boy to weep alone. You could hear his quiet sobs behind you and had to bite your lip so you wouldn’t cry out as well. You had done it. You had left Draco Malfoy and in all honesty. You felt as if a part of you had been ripped out.

    ☼-🐍-☼

   friday, graduation day. You and Luna were getting ready. You both had picked dresses to wear under your graduation robes. You chose a short black dress while Luna chose a long white sundress. After finishing up, you both made your way to the great hall.

   Professor Dumbledore and Mcgonagall said there announcements and gave out a few awards. Cedric Diggory got one for quidditch, which you cheered loudly for. After those some students gave speeches. Hermione’s was very sweet and short and you enjoyed it.

   after the clapping died down Mcgonagall stood up “Next student to say a few words is Draco Malfoy” the Slytherins cheered loudly for there headboy while you sunk into your seat. Draco stood up and shrugged off his robes, leaving him in a all black suit and tie. So handsome- wait. Stop Y/n.

   he walked up to the front and gave the crowd a slight smile. Oh yeah, i forgot to mention that parents were aloud to attend the ceremony. No wonder he wanted to speak. He needed to impress his father. Typical. You sigh and prepare yourself for what's to come.

   “Thank you Professor. When i first came to Hogwarts the only thing on my mind was my education, but i made friends along the way and found comfort in people around me like Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott, my best mates.” he points towards the two in the crowd and they stand up momentarily to wave.

   you shake your head. Could this be over already? “Hogwarts has become my second home really. It’ll be hard to leave this place and not return next year to all the places i loved to visit, like the astronomy tower” your heart tugged, you couldn’t do it. Standing up from the table, you walk towards the exit.

   “you might be wondering why that place is my favorite out of all the wondrous parts about Hogwarts. Well, it was where i was most happy because i-” Draco looked at his father, then his mother before continuing. “it’s where i met my love” you stopped walking as collective gasps erupted throughout the hall. 

   you turn slowly and look at Draco “Yes, save your shock. I Draco Malfoy am in love with Y/n L/n and i’m tired of hiding it.” what the hell was he doing? Students whispered to each other and others gave sympathetic stares at Pansy. His father looked furious.

   everyone then looked towards you as Draco stepped away from the front and made his way to you. Oh no “I haven’t been a good boyfriend by hiding you away and Diggory was right. I chose my reputation over you and i shouldn’t have because in the end you were always the one that stuck around”

   a cane stops him from walking and he looks up to see his father glaring at him “Draco, you will stop this nonsense and we will leave at once. You will not tarnish the Malfoy legacy over some feeble Hufflepuff girl” he spat. Draco’s eyes narrowed at his father. He lifts his hand and slips off the Malfoy ring he wore.

   he dropped it on the ground, causing a metallic sound. “Fuck your legacy and your small minded bullshit. Cut me off, i don’t care. Never speak to me again, i. Don’t. Care, but you won’t talk about Y/n that way. Goodbye father” he pushed the cane away and rushed towards you.

   “Draco! Get back here now!” his father shouted. Draco grabs your hand and runs out the great hall with you. You unclip your robe and watch it fly off into it reached the ground. 

   your friends watched you run off. George turned to Fred who had a small smile on his face “You okay Freddie?” he asked, nudging his twins shoulder. “I never had a chance with her did i?” he says, sighing deeply. George purses his lips, shaking his head.

   Cedric sighed deeply, leaning back into his seat “Not bad, Malfoy”

    ☼-🐍-☼

   you both ran out the school. It was raining, not too hard though. Suddenly Draco stops, causing you to do the same “What?” you say, the rain wetting your H/c hair. He pulls you into his chest and uses the other hand to pull you in for a kiss. It’s sweet and passionate, you wished it would last a lifetime.

   as you pull away you see his platinum blond hair flatten, raindrops cascading down his face “I’ll never betray you again Y/n. If you’ll be mine again. We’ll move in together and make a legacy of our own. I promise” he says, leaning his forehead against yours. 

   “That’s all i ever wanted” and with that, you both kiss again. 

    ☼-🐍-☼

   Kody- served hot and fresh with extra extra cheese for all you fluff lovers. Anyways, peace.

[captainsimagines]

To Topple A Giant || Chapter Five

Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate.

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader

Part 5 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

Warnings: This story contains mature themes and discussions such as extreme canon violence, strong language, emotional angst, mentions of Endgame deaths and recoveries, sexual situations, and emotional/physical abuse. All trigger warnings will be listed before the chapter. This is purely fanfiction.

Warnings in this Chapter: mentions of male masturbation and boners (lol); strong language; references to suicide, murder, and drug smuggling; abusive parental relationship; mentions of child death in a second flashback; dry humping (smut); 18+ only please!

Word Count: 16,500+

A/N: damn that chapter warning list was a trip to write down lmao

~

Westview, 2023, 1:32 pm

     An uncomfortable silence spread throughout the parked vehicle, daring either of you to take the first step. No one commented on the glares boring into your soul as you drove through the town or how heavily the three of you got patted down by the authorities right outside the state line. You figured it was completely justified - still a little insulting to a bunch of Avengers who literally saved the world three weeks ago. 

With a loud gulp, Bucky was the first to kick open his door and get out of the car. You glanced at Steve from the driver’s seat, biting your lip with a slight quiver as you went over the speech you practiced earlier today. Simple enough, and not too damning. 

Steve’s leg bounced rapidly a few more times before he too kicked open his door, leaving you in silence. You pulled the car keys from the ignition and took in a deep breath. Your legs were numb, the anxiety washing over you in uneven cycles. It was now or never. 

“Wanda, it’s us…”

Her grief seemed to emit from every crack in the sidewalk, every weak beg escaping the townspeople’s throats, every sound from the inanimate objects her powers had continued to turn from gray to red… to green… back to gray. She was crouched on the property, weeds brushing against her black pants and leaving their mark, mascara smudged with each new wet streak. 

Bucky unzipped his jacket, eyes wandering over the deserted plot of land as Wanda tried to control her sobs. She had already caused enough damage, both physical and psychological, the possibility of more government involvement looming over your heads. He carefully walked toward her and wrapped his jacket over her shoulders, all be damned as he held her and began to tear up himself.

“Wanda, you’re okay. You’re safe. We’ll get through this,” Steve sighed, still keeping a respectable distance from her in case she were to run. But you knew her better - she was all out of fight. One fight after another and yet she still lost her love. 

“I did something really bad,” she sobbed, eyes locked on the spot where Vision had just disappeared. Again.

“No, you didn’t know what you were doing,” Steve declared, shocked by the unexpected scoff from Bucky. 

“Save it, Steve. She may not have known in the beginning but she does now. She still did it.”

No one dared correct Bucky or argue with that logic because if anyone knew about causing harm with absolutely no intention, it was obviously him. Taking responsibility - that was the best course of action. 

Once you heard of a radioactive disturbance in a small town just outside the state, the team almost retired completely. So soon after defeating Thanos, so soon after Tony’s death, so soon after Natasha’s death - the team left it up to the proper authorities this time around. 

But the second you watched the broadcast of Wanda’s fantasies, the sitcom her powers were conjuring, her giving birth to her children… all you could do was wait until she opened the barrier. 

“I still did it,” Wanda said, her upper body beginning to rock back and forth as her fingertips brightened with red tendrils of magical grief. 

You shut your eyes and willed yourself not to cry. You had done so much crying these past few years and you were oh, so tired. You couldn’t possibly take another beating. 

“Hey, hey. Look at me,” Bucky spoke, gently turning Wanda’s face and placing both his hands on her cheeks, mindful of the metal appendage he had forgotten to cover with his glove. “You already did it. It can’t be undone. But you can come with us and grieve properly.”

Wanda reached up and placed her hands over his, tears spilling from her eyes faster now. 

“Let us help you grieve.”

This wasn’t an unexpected goodbye. Wanda knew that. She had just voluntarily given up her husband and children - anyone would crumble from that sort of devastation. But now she had been given a proper goodbye, a somewhat proper closure, and the chance to accept it. “Okay.”

You and Steve remained frozen in place even after Bucky helped Wanda stand. Almost as quickly as you thought it, your feet had a mind of their own. You stood next to Steve, taking in the weed infested, rectangular plot of land - the remnants of Wanda’s fantasy still fresh and creating a tiny, refreshing tingle in the middle of your chest. You looked over at Steve and smiled sadly when you saw him inspecting the area as well. 

“They would have had a beautiful life together.”

Steve’s breath hitched as you finished your declaration, looking over at you and nodding slightly. 

“If I had the chance, I would have wanted a nice house with some decent air conditioning. Some weird, front yard garden where I could plant random flowers. A dog that dug them up and acted like it didn’t do it.”

You giggled, thumbnail between your incisors to try and disguise the wider grin forming. Steve kept speaking. 

“Maybe a kid or two. Never actually checked if I could even have kids after the serum.”

You dropped your hand from your face, your attention completely on him now. 

Steve sighed and kicked a rock over to the other side of the property. “I would have wanted a giant, king-sized bed. With ‘his’ and ‘hers’ towels. And every once in a while we would accidentally use the other one’s toothbrush, a secret we would take to the grave.”

Steve wasn’t even looking over at you as he said this. It was like a one-sided confession, rhetorical, not needing an immediate response or expression in return. And you couldn’t believe he was just saying this in front of you - you of all people - the same person who rolled their eyes whenever Steve struggled to comprehend a modern topic or argued with him when he was in one of his moods. He had been distant the last few weeks after returning the stones, only ever noticing you when other people were around to carry a conversation. 

The tingles in your chest were starting to disappear as the plot of land gave its last few magical rumbles. 

“Steve?”

Steve bowed his head, hands in his pockets and breath steady. “Yes, they would have been very happy together.”

You stared at the back of his head as he slowly walked back to the car.  

Present Day, 2025, 8:10 am

     The amount of times you reminded yourself to wake up early as you were drifting off to sleep last night was perhaps more than the number of sheep you had ever counted in your life. A quick reminder here and there as your mind got clogged with pointless information, the number eight behind your eyelids all throughout the night. 

And you did it. In the early hours of the morning, knowing Steve would wake naturally in about twenty minutes, you tip-toed out of bed to use the bathroom. Acting completely normal in case he did in fact hear you before your grand plan - an easy escape route if he decided to repeat his horrible morning ritual on you. But he was such an old man, getting older, losing that serum’s boost. This Steve, Steve who refused to call any movie made after 1945 ‘old’ because he literally didn’t get the chance to see them premiere - yeah, this Steve, was passed out like he had been hit by a truck. 

Bladder empty and teeth brushed, you quietly opened the bathroom door and peeked through. He still lay there on his back, wrapped tightly in his blanket, breathing steadily, and face completely unprotected. 

Could you die? Probably. Would this payback be absolutely satisfying? Hell yeah. 

You grabbed the biggest of your pillows and fisted the corner tightly, twisting it a couple times for a better grip. You signed the cross quickly before lifting the pillow above your head and bringing it down to Steve’s face. 

Steve’s eyes snapped open and he immediately sat up, “WHAT?”

His eyes flew around the room rapidly until they landed on you, angry and challenging.

“Payback!” you yelled, lifting the pillow high again for a second hit. But he reacted quicker, grabbing a pillow himself and swinging it toward you. It slammed you in the torso and practically sent you flying. You landed at the edge of your bed, mouth open in shock and racks of laughter bubbling deep within your chest. You stood quickly and hit him repeatedly, trying your best to also block his counterattack. 

He reached for your hip and pulled you in his bed, rolling the two of you over so he was straddling your hips. He brought the pillow down several more times before accepting your plea of surrender. 

You threw the pillow back to your bed and pouted, “Not a fair fight!”

Steve scoffed, “You caught me off guard! You had all the advantages!”

You shuffled beneath him and froze, hips stuck in a lifted position as you were too embarrassed to move them back down. “Jesus, Steve! How do you even sleep on your stomach with that thing?”

Steve furrowed his eyebrows as he inspected your face and body, looking down at the two of you before he noticed the way he was pressing into your inner thigh. He scrambled off you, a blush spreading from his cheeks and all the way down his chest. He cupped himself and turned away, quickly shuffling for his suitcase and pulling whatever clothes his flustered hands grabbed. He was also repeatedly apologizing. 

“Steve, it’s okay. It just… startled me, is all.”

Steve cleared his throat a couple times before pacing around the room in search of his toiletries. 

You just sat back on your elbows, watching him scurry like a chicken with its head cut off. It was rather amusing. 

“I’m gonna - gonna, take a shower. Uh, I’m sorry again.”

You smirked at the super soldier, “Steve, I’m not mad. It isn’t like I’m new to that kind of thing.”

Steve blushed harder, “But I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

You shrugged your shoulders and dipped lower into his sheets, grabbing and lifting them higher. You snuggled deeper, “Still.”

Steve could feel the speed at which the world rotated and he shut the bathroom door behind him. He leaned against it, breathing deeply until he had all his inhibitions back. 

He didn’t know what was more embarrassing - reacting the way he did or you seeing him react the way he did. It wasn’t like the two of you hadn’t seen each other in awkward situations, some borderline lewd. There were plenty of missions that involved heavy flirting with the targets, undercover work in depraved settings, missions where nasty magic was involved and concocted a multitude of inappropriate visions. Hell, everyone had already seen each other naked. It was completely normal, a trustworthy environment, and sometimes necessary. 

As much as he wanted to give into the feeling and award himself some proper alone time, he refused to act upon it. He would regret it later once the stress pushed down harder than usual, but it just wasn’t appropriate in his right mind to masturbate with you in the other room. 

Why did he have to be such a good and honorable man?

He busied himself with washing his hair and scrubbing away any evidence of sleep from his face. Steve liked sleeping on his stomach, face smooshed in the pillows and arms extended to his sides. It allowed for more comfortable movement, more ways to stretch his hips, just overall comfort for his massive shoulders. Less pressure on the lungs, too. And unlike the enthusiastic yet almost mean accusation that he couldn’t possibly enjoy that position because of his… well, his dick, Steve would choose that position over sleeping on his back any day. But that morning, his body had decided to betray him in more ways than one. One, he was open to attack because he was on his back. And two, whatever dream he was having caused his morning wood to seem larger this morning.

He had washed up quickly, more time spent out of the shower where he fixed his hair and combed his beard. He thought about shaving it for the rehearsal dinner or wedding, but it gave him a more rugged look - like he was all tough and no funny business. As ridiculous as it sounded, the beard allowed him to lean into the criminal act easier, build a fake personality that already had your father eating out of his hand. 

Opening the bathroom door and having to face the music, Steve was almost certain you would continue to tease him. But you were already munching on the breakfast you had ordered, shoveling hash browns in your mouth as you swiped the mouse through pages and pages of intel. You didn’t even look up as he crossed the room to grab a pair of pants he had forgotten to pick up during his quick escape. That settled his nerves almost instantly and he was dressed and settled next to you soon after.

You worked in silent cooperation for a long while, handing each other files and passing phone calls like you had during every other mission before. Except now it was more comfortable, pleasant, and kind - the soft sounds from the television in the corner, the humming of the desktop, the soft hums of recognition whenever you two showed each other something. You didn’t even bother with what happened in the morning, if it really was anything at all, because you honestly found it normal. You were more focused on the conversation you had last night. 

Steve had offered to kill your father if you seriously couldn’t. Just thinking about his offer caused your stomach to turn. Because yes, you wanted him dead. You wanted to snap his neck in ten different places and feed him to scavengers. You wanted to steal his business from under him and tear it apart, bit by bit, and keep him alive long enough to see you do it. You wanted to see the look in his eyes when you revealed that you double-crossed him. And as the day inched closer, the overwhelming feeling of shame pushed down on your shoulders and swallowed your mind. Once your father was dead, you and Steve would never find true peace. His men would always follow you, probably take you down at the local coffee shop you and Peter frequented. 

The thought of dying in front of Peter caused a lump to form in your throat. No, you wouldn’t do that to your friends. You couldn’t do this to Steve. 

But you had to. Because even though your life will never be yours after this mission, you had to save the countless others your father was sure to touch and ruin. 

But was your life ever truly yours?

Steve’s voice pulled you from your clouded mind. 

“Huh?” 

“I asked if you wanted the last piece of fruit.” 

You looked at Steve then at the small piece of watermelon in the bowl, then back at Steve. He had a pen in between his teeth, one eyebrow cocked, and slightly puffy eyes due to the beer heavy sleep he had last night. You looked away as quickly as you could and stared back at the fruit, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. 

Ridiculous, you thought. Just looking at Steve had flustered you, squeezing your stomach in pleasurable pulses you hadn’t felt since high school. “No, no. You can have it,” you said, hoping your voice wouldn’t crack. 

Ridiculous. 

Steve watched you with a funny smile but he took your word and scooped up the last piece for himself. 

No, you thought again, this man will not give me freaking butterflies. 

It wasn’t like it was odd. Steve had you flustered countless times before, but it was never quite as tingly as it was now. You suddenly wanted to facetime Wanda and rant about these weird feelings; you wanted to curl in on yourself and squeal; you wanted to -

    “He’s what?”

You sat on your knees and leaned over the back of the couch, chin resting on your folded arms as you watched Steve pace around the common room. He was tugging at his dress shirt repeatedly, desperately trying to attach cufflinks without additional help. Sam sat right beside you, in the same position, snickering each time Steve cursed under his breath. 

“He’s nervous,” Bucky smirked, arm holding out Steve’s tie for the past five minutes. Steve had paced beside him various times already, completely oblivious. 

Steve groaned and readjusted his collar, snapping his head toward the three of you. “I’m not nervous.”

“You’re sweating buckets, man,” Sam pointed out, one of his hands discreetly opening up his camera and switching to video. 

“What if she doesn’t like me?” 

Bucky threw his head back and cackled, choosing to grab Steve and steady him to finally put that damn tie around his neck. “Same old, Steve. Can’t accept that a dame would ever possibly like you back.”

“Hey, Steve don’t worry about it,” you started, shooting Steve a sympathetic look. Steve glanced back at you, expression swiftly changing due to your kind tone. “... when I was in high school,-”

Steve released a loud grunt, rolling his eyes and stepping away from Bucky’s hands. 

Sam rolled over and clutched his stomach as he laughed, pulling you into him. The two of you shook from your laughs together. 

“Guys,” Bucky warned, reaching for Steve in a ‘grabby’ motion. “Give him a break.”

Steve reluctantly stood beside Bucky again, head tilted upward as he tried wrapping the tie back around his neck. 

None of you heard the entrance of Thor and his brother, too busy with bullying, laughter, or moderating. 

“Did we miss all the fun?”

You shot up from the ground, kicking Sam away as you rushed across the floor and stumbled over the rug. “Thor!”

You rushed into his arms and he gripped you tightly, swinging you around and loud laughter matching yours. 

“Now, why wasn’t I greeted in a similar manner?” Loki questioned, crossing his arms over his chest. 

You pulled your face from Thor’s shoulder, “Oh, you want this too?”

You jumped back onto the floor and were about to jump into Loki’s arms, but he held his own out, stopping you. “It’s too late. It’s not the same.”

“Piss baby,” you quipped, rushing behind Thor for protection when Loki’s mouth dropped in surprise. 

“Can everyone stop what they’re doing real quick and tell Steve his date is going to go well tonight?”

You rolled your eyes at Bucky’s favor, but he just raised his eyebrows, challenging you to disobey the order. 

“The Captain has a date? Are they okay?”

Loki and you shared a comical gasp. 

Steve gaped, “Now, what in the world does that mean, Thor?”

Thor raised his hands in defense, “I’m just asking if she truly knows what she’s getting herself into! Don’t try and tell me she has no idea who you are.”

Steve was back to groaning nonstop. Bucky threw his hands up in the air, “I ask one thing of you guys. One thing.”

You stomped over to Steve and ripped the half-tied tie from his neck and smoothed down his collar. You patted down his shoulders and the front of his shirt, and gripped his shoulders to straighten his back. 

“Now,” you smiled up at him. The breath caught in your throat for a second, the blue of his eyes shining under the ceiling lights and the pink of his cheeks spreading slowly. You let out a tiny sigh, heart fluttering faintly from the small grin he was giving you. He looked so innocent, a renaissance subject created from light oils, signs of true aging showing in his forehead. “Whatever date you got planned, she’s gonna love it.”

Steve relished in the feeling of your palms pressed against his chest for a few moments before he nodded at your declaration. He stepped back and smoothed down his shirt. “Wish me luck?”

A chorus of ‘good luck’s sounded as Steve found his keys and shared a goodnight hug with Sam and Bucky. They both jokingly reminded him to use protection. 

You watched Steve leave, a newfound bounce in his step as he walked away. Your words had been so simple, so cliche, and yet he had dropped any visible nerves as he walked out the door. You weren’t the best motivational speaker, that was for sure, but the proof of at least an ounce of motivation was there. Maybe your words held a hidden meaning. Maybe.

You thought about him picking up this random woman, wine and dining her, kissing her cheek as he said his goodbyes at the end of the night. It was somewhat adorable to think about, but also weird.

Before you could dive more into the strange feeling, Thor’s voice sounded. 

“Should we order pizza or chinese?”

It’s like that snapped you from your trance, because next thing you knew you were back to your playful self, sprinting across the room and into Loki’s arms. 

     You cherished the slight, pleasant churn of your stomach as you watched him happily munch on the fruit. 

Okay, it was normal to have a tiny crush on your mission partner. God knows how many times you wanted to jump Thor’s bones whenever you were undercover together. A crush was normal, completely natural and expected. 

Except you had never gotten so much sane joy from a simple question of whether you wanted the last piece of fruit. 

You blinked a few times and shook off any trace of overthinking devils, grabbing at random files to occupy your mind for a while. After about fifteen more minutes of comfortable silence, you spoke.

“So, we think Ramirez is gonna get straight up murdered?”

Steve snorted, filing through a pile of papers Torres had delivered this morning. “I wouldn’t put it like that, but sure.”

“But it’s just a theory at this point. We can’t just go in guns blazing without enough proof.”

“And if there is proof? Do we protect him? The original mission was to arrest all four men.”

You groaned, “I don’t know. He’s never done me wrong.”

“Personal feelings aside, Y/N.”

“Ugh, fine. But I’m not gonna be happy about it.”

Steve squinted at you with a playful smile. “You’d rather just arrest the bad ones, huh?”

“Obviously what Ramirez is doing is illegal and it’s horrific to think of what might be happening behind the scenes on his side, but either he’s serious or he’s been putting on this good guy act for his whole life.”

“Leaning towards the first option?”

Shrugging, you leaned toward your computer screen and scrolled through the massive list of emails. “It’s what my gut tells me, but ehh.”

There was one random email from Maribel, but random only meant coded. Reading it over a couple times, humming to yourself in concentration, you finally cracked the code she was trying to send. 

“Maribel says Ramirez acquired some land in Mexico… lots of it.”

Steve looked up from the files, “Any significance?”

“It’s probably for growing the products.”

Steve quickly typed key words that would alert him of any new transactions in the past few months.  “Who’s on the title?”

“Just him. And his oldest daughter. My father must know, right?”

Steve leaned back in his chair, releasing a heavy sigh as he thought about what this could mean. “Ramirez acquiring more land means more of Ramirez’s product. A three-way partnership would be split unevenly if he utilizes the land.”

“Make sure Bucky alerts us of any business my father might have with realtors authorized to work in that area.”

It functioned like this for another hour, the two of you sharing bits of information every ten minutes or so. 

“Torres sent us an update on White.”

You rubbed at your strained eyes, “What does he say?”

Steve’s eyebrows raised, “That he’s been in the country for much longer than his passport says.”

You stood from your seat and rushed to look at the same screen Steve was reading from. “He traveling under a fake name?”

“Customs says he returned to Germany,” Steve stated, highlighting a paragraph on the screen for you to easily read. “Four weeks ago.”

It was your turn to snort out a laugh, “Oh, he’s so setting up an alibi.”

Steve nodded in agreement, “Looks like it.”

You slapped his shoulder lightly, voice raising an octave. “Look at us! Piecing together the puzzle!”

“We still got a few more pieces to attach before you go getting all cocky.”

You chuckled and decided to take a break. You speed walked over to your bed and plopped down, the mountain of pillows already relieving your tense muscles. “Hey, has my sister’s plane landed yet?”

Steve glanced at you quickly before pulling up Bucky’s morning emails. “Uh, landed about an hour ago.”

“She at the estate?”

He shrugged, “Torres hasn’t sent an update. Just her profile, hold up.”

You waved him off, a nonverbal way of telling him you seriously couldn’t care less. “I haven’t spoken to her since I joined you guys. You don’t gotta give me her origin story.”

“That long?” Steve questioned. 

You placed a pillow beneath your head, body horizontal and facing Steve. “We were never that close. I’ve got tons of half-siblings. Most of them were adults when I was born, anyway.”

With just a few words exchanged, Steve realized he had just stepped through your metaphorical door of reminiscing. So he stood to lay in his own bed, the simple action of giving you attention enough to keep you talking, he hoped. “Were you alone a lot? Growing up, I mean.”

You watched as Steve also placed a pillow beneath his head, “There were always kids around. Kids of the maids, cousins, neighbors.”

“A full house, sounds like.”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, a small smile forming as you thought about old friends. “I remember this one time, we all ran into Ramirez when we were trying to get to one of the playrooms. But he grabbed me quickly and told me to not go in there.”

“Was it a threat?”

You grinned at his protective tone, “No, it was a warning. There were some really bad men in the other room. It was me and a few other girls. He told us to run back to my room and lock the door until he came to get us.”

Steve couldn’t come up with a reasonable explanation as to why Ramirez joined the drug game. Sure, the function and presence of cartels had changed drastically over the last forty years, but it didn’t explain why he remained involved. In the eighties, the drug game was highly televised and spoken about, but the cartel violence was not as strong. Nowadays, and not even you could give a proper explanation, the violence was astronomical and basically advertised as something to expect when visiting certain countries. This was the mob game now, freaking Al Capone or the goddamn Godfather, absolutely meant to frighten whoever dare join or leave. For Ramirez to still be one of the big players even with that many internal changes, to be a good person in the middle of such hell, didn’t make any sense. 

“He protected you.”

You clutched the pillow closer to your chest, the memory a good one even if it was weird. “Oh, yeah. Those guys he was warning us about were no angels.”

Steve gave an awkward smile, “I feel like I know more about your childhood than you know mine.”

“I’m all ears if you wanna tell me about little, asthmatic Steve Rogers.”

He raised his index finger at you, “Hey, I was more than just my asthma.”

“Oh, excuse me. I totally forgot about your scoliosis.” 

The pillow under his head was now flying across the small distance to your face. You shrieked and sent it back. 

“Stop bullying!” Steve laughed.

You shielded your face in case he decided to continue the pillow war. “What? I’ve got my health problems, too! I just don’t have the serum to help me out.”

But he didn’t throw it again. He repositioned himself on his back and placed both hands beneath his head, gracing the ceiling with a grin. “I remember this one time, Bucky and I were around eleven-years old, and I had this really bad asthma attack. Bucky just freaked out. I was choking and he was just holding me, screaming for help -”

You blinked, “This is really depressing, what are you-”

“-and! Bucky threw himself into a full-blown panic attack. So we were both choking on air, but I was starting to laugh at him freaking out, which only made him choke harder. We ended up throwing up.”

You were silent at the end of his short story, mouth open in a wide smile. “I don’t know what else to say other than that was one of the greatest stories I’ve ever heard.”

Steve rolled over, a literal twinkle in his eye. “See? Don’t interrupt me before I get to the good parts.”

This simple moment catapulted the realization that Steve hasn’t spoken to you this much in two years, to the front of your mind. In these past four days, you had spoken like you had never stopped, like it was never awkward, like you two seriously didn’t need another person in the room to simply converse about what you wanted for breakfast. Yet here you were, more words exchanged in the past four days than you ever thought possible. 

After the fallout, you didn’t say one full sentence to him for seven months. Seven months. He hadn’t attempted a conversation with you either, but you actively avoided him like he was infected. Hell, he even moved out of the compound and into his own apartment to get away from you for most of the day. After your forced reconciliation, the awkward apologies, you still didn’t force any open conversation. But it was easier, lighter, and most conversations involved mission information. 

Talking this much now was so easy, so simple, like you didn’t need to force the comfort - there was already full comfort, a sense of community with this man. 

He was so different from when he insulted you while you were packing, annoyed by the fact that you pried too much. And now you were prying into his childhood and him yours without a lick of annoyance on either side. 

“We both had eventful childhoods, didn’t we?”

“What, with both of us in the middle of a war?” Steve asked, a genuine look on his face.

“Guess our wars never really left us, huh?”

There was a knock at the door. You weren’t expecting Torres again today. Steve muttered ‘room service, maybe’ under his breath as you went to open it. You were startled to find Scott standing outside, two massive suitcases in his hand. 

“Oh my god, I forgot you were arriving today!”

Scott scoffed, “Am I not as important as your other friends?”

You laughed and helped him inside, “Stop! You’re one of my favorite bugs!”

“Ha ha. Very funny. I’ll leave right now if you two decide to pile on me instead of each other.” Scott placed one of the suitcases near the door but the other at the edge of your bed. 

“We’ll be nice,” Steve promised, standing to greet Scott with a hug. 

“You better. Catch me up, please?” 

The suitcase contained your outfits for the rehearsal dinner and the wedding. Whoever was in charge of costumes definitely went all out, hoping their work would make the big fight the most fashionable. Steve was given a perfectly tailored suit, navy blue and velvet. It was lined with vibranium, inside pockets covered with it. That would certainly be handy if you were forced to walk through metal detectors - vibranium couldn’t be detected. His suit for the rehearsal dinner was a lot simpler, the custom black and white aesthetic, but still protected with vibranium. 

Your clothes were certainly not styled to match Steve’s, giving you a sense of individuality. It was perfect really - it would allow you to leave Steve’s side, if necessary, when the mission called for you to split up. Your rehearsal dinner outfit was two parts: a black, velvet long-sleeved shirt, slight turtleneck, and gold cuffs. It was joined by a long gold skirt, high-waisted, the front shorter than the back and sides more curled than ruffled. You would have to wear tights underneath, but it was beautiful. Vibranium was also stitched in for added protection. Your dress for the actual wedding, however, was a total knockout. Red, spaghetti strap, tight on top but loose once it reached your hips, a long slit on the left side. They were even kind enough to give you a pair of heels to match. 

Yeah, Steve was Captain America and his appearance will shock the guests, but your attire will definitely be the second topic in gossip. 

Scott was filing through the same papers you and Steve had reviewed earlier, a bowl of potato chips at his side. And it was peaceful - you and Steve even had the chance to nap. 

“So, you’re gonna see Jackeline at the rehearsal dinner?”

You wiped the remnants of your nap from your face and groaned as you stretched, “She’ll probably be busy tomorrow when we go for breakfast, so yeah.”

Scott shifted uncomfortably in his seat, eyes practically attached to the computer screen. “And… she’s the one getting married?”

His tone started to worry Steve, “Yes, Scott. You good?”

Scott piled a handful of potato chips in his mouth, finger clicking the mouse every few seconds. His eyes were now wide, blinks forgotten. “Jackeline Vega. Jackeline.”

Steve ignored him now, “Hey, why isn’t your last name Vega?”

As much as you wanted to share about how and why you changed your last name, Scott’s demeanor interested you more. “Changed it when I became an American citizen - Scott, what’s up?”

He let out a tiny squeak, swallowing his snack quickly. “And she’s your father’s favorite?”

You rolled your eyes, “Mmm.”

Scott released a huge huff of air, shoulders falling as he raised his voice and turned the monitor to face you. “Think he knows anything about this?”

The photograph was blurry because it was enhanced, but you could still make out the face of a sister you hadn’t seen in years. Older, still with teenage features obviously, and tossed on what looked like a church alter-

Steve's eyes widened, “Is she…?”

Scott finished his sentence for him, “Fucking a priest?”

You covered your mouth in shock, “Oh my god, she’s fucking a priest!”

Bent on the literal church altar, skirt bunched around her hips, head thrown back in ecstasy and face in full view. And the damned priest, in between her legs and under the eyes of god. 

“That’s why I asked!”

Steve clutched at his chest, head thrown back as he howled, “I think you were wrong about your sister.”

Now your eyes were glued to the screen, “Oh, I was fuck all from correct!”

Scott cleared his throat, “Is the priest… her fiance?”

Steve came down from his laugh attack, “I highly doubt that, Scott.”

“This is actually really damning evidence.”

You grinned at Scott, “For what? Painting her out to look like the most sinful whore? I might just congratulate her.”

Steve stared at you, judging almost. “For fucking a priest?”

“For proving me wrong. She’s not so innocent after all,” you responded, cheeks strained from how wide you were smiling. 

“Clearly. This is… actually badass,” Scott admitted, turning the monitor back to him.

You teased, singing your next words. “Don’t let the Lord and Savior hear that.”

Steve glared, “Y/N.”

You leaned away from him, “What? Anyway, that’s gotta be one the worst sins to commit, right?”

Steve’s expression contorted from annoyance to disbelief. “We’ve literally killed people.”

“Pfft, but we’re not fucking priests. Right?”

Scott answered, nodding quicker than he needed to. “Right.”

“You’re literally asking that?”

You pressed your lips into a fine line and tilted your head at Steve. “Steve?”

He glared at you for a long moment before slowly shaking his head. “I’m not fucking any priests.”

Your response was immediate, “Alright! I gotta hand it to her, though. Who took the photo?”

Scott went back to fishing through the emails. “Some sleazy magazine that never got around to actually printing these out.”

“Someone paid them off. Or killed them.”

“I wonder who,” you replied sarcastically. 

Steve continued, “You honestly think he would support her doing that?”

You shrugged and scurried back over to your unmade bed. “Not my problem.”

Scott interjected, “Okay, okay. How’s tomorrow gonna work?”

Steve answered first, “Well, we’re driving out around eight.”

You hummed in agreement, reaching over to unplug your phone from the charger. “Scott, you’ll just ride on one of our backs as we walk through the estate.”

“I kind of want to ride Y/N’s back this time.”

You snorted, “Now that doesn’t sound sexual at all.”

He hid his face in his hands, “You know, I heard it once I said it.”

“Course you did.”

Steve jumped back into the conversation, Scott’s embarrassment seeming to grow under the weird tension. “Then you’ll hop off and plant the bugs wherever you feel like they’re needed.”

“Easy peasy!” you cheered. 

“Bucky and Sam gonna meet us Friday night?”

Steve nodded, “That’s what they said.” He looked over at you, scrolling through your phone and already smiling at something you found funny. He cleared his throat to get your attention. “You know they can be out here in under an hour if we seriously need them.”

You glanced over at Steve, his sincerity greatly appreciated. “I know. But all my faith is in Scott here.”

Scott moaned quietly, “Oh… no, let’s not put all the faith in me because I can’t handle that responsibility.”

You propped yourself up onto your elbows, “You saying I can’t trust you?”

“No, no! That’s not what I’m saying at all-!”

Steve rolled his eyes and looked at the man, a sheen of nervous sweat starting to form on his forehead. “Scott.” 

Scott lowered his hands from his chest, “O-oh. She’s messing with me, huh?”

You chuckled and laid back down. “You’re so easy.”

The easygoing atmosphere for the next few hours almost had you believing you were on vacation, away from the bad guys and space aliens for just a moment. Almost like you weren’t in the middle of a drug war, a mob business, the literal daughter of a king. Scott had that effect, his personality such a sweet refresher and such a contrast to every soul in the compound. 

Thor and Peter were also sweethearts and fun was always expected when they were around, but Scott had this different vibe. Maybe it was because he was relatively new, or that he had a child, or that he hadn’t suffered the same five years as everyone else did. Like he wasn’t yet tainted.  

“You guys mind if I run a job inside a job?”

Your head snapped up at Scott’s crazy question, “You stealing something?”

To run a job inside a job was risky. There was no exact plan to keep both missions balanced, to somehow rank the other more important. You prayed it wasn’t something insane. 

Scott chuckled under his breath, already grabbing his jacket and suitcase by the door. “No, I’m not stealing something. Hank needs me to speak to some guy he’s doing negotiations with about a space for a new lab headquarters.”

Steve tilted his head, “In Northern California?”

“Nah, the dude is vacationing out here for the time being. The lab will be in San Francisco again.”

You squinted at him, still cautious. “Where you meeting him?”

“Some nice Italian restaurant an hour out.”

Steve spoke before you did, similar thoughts running through his mind. “You check with Torres? We don’t know who might randomly show up there.”

Scott tried his best to reassure you, “Yeah, he said they’re following every car that leaves the premises and travels more than thirty minutes away. None of Ernesto’s men have been spotted further up north.”

You sighed. You didn’t want another member of your team to venture out in this area, let alone this goddamn state, without your eyes on them. You were protective, the proximity of your outside world with the one you had spent ten years building too suffocating of a reality. 

Still, you told Scott goodbye with a steady voice. “Then enjoy your dinner, Scott.”

His voice picked up again, that childish and upbeat feeling wrapping you around his finger. “You guys wanna come with? I’m sure you’re sick of icky hotel food.”

Steve waved him off, “It’s actually not that bad-”

“Breadsticks. Garlic pasta. More breadsticks.”

You laughed, “That sounds nice, Scott but we can stay here-”

“Three-cheese pastas.”

“Scott, you can try all you want but-”

“Unlimited breadsticks.”

You shared a look at Steve, puckering your lips at the suggestion. 

“.... We’ll sit far away from your table, okay?”

Scott opened the hotel door and started sprinting down the hallway. “I knew I could persuade you with that! C’mon!”

     California at night was a death trap. Potholes on every stretch of asphalt, construction halted for who knows how long, random opossums lingering in the shadows just waiting to get hit by tires. It was prettier during the day - less of a ‘lead me into this forest, yes, kill me’ vibe. 

You chilled in the backseat while Scott drove you guys to the restaurant. You had texted Bucky where you were planning to go, the message activating the group text chain. 

Peter: it’s Wednesday! Who died?

Wanda: she’s literally texting us

Peter: Y/N, you won???

Bucky: fuck do I owe the fucking spider money?

Peter: pay up dude

Y/N: tf Bucky? You bet against me?

      “You sure you two are good?”

The restaurant looked quiet considering it was a Wednesday night, but it was still crowded. There was a short line extending out the door and a… bouncer. You sucked in a breath and smacked Scott in the chest once you were out of the car. 

“Thought you said this was a restaurant?”

Scott rubbed his chest, a look of disbelief spreading across his face. “Restaurant slash bar!”

“We eating with the Italian mob now? I can only handle one mob at a time, Scott.”

You nodded rapidly, pointing at Steve. “I agree with him!”

“Not every place has bad guys!”

You groaned and reluctantly stood at the back of line, pulling Steve’s hat lower on his forehead. It wasn’t like people couldn’t take one long, hard look at him and not know who he was, anyway. 

“Can you guys just… enjoy a night out?”

“While on a mission?”

“While living your long lives. God, Y/N, you getting old already?”

Your mouth dropped, “I’m twenty-six and I’m not complaining about a nice dinner, Scott.” You pointed at the bouncer. “I’m worried about the fact that our ID’s are gonna be checked.”

Scott’s mouth formed an ‘O’. “Yeah, that.”

“Next.”

You shot Steve a worried look but handed the bouncer your driver’s license. He just looked at the date of birth and moved you along. “Next.”

Scott handed him his, doing his best to smile proudly while the bouncer scanned him up and down. “Next.”

“See? Wasn’t so hard,” Scott joked, standing next to you in the far corner of the entrance. 

You rolled your eyes, “Wait.”

The bouncer took one look at Steve’s ID and gasped. Steve looked anywhere but the bouncer’s eyes, his bottom lip suffering the abuse of his incisors. 

“Cap-Captain?”

Steve gave a sheepish grin, lowering his cap further. “Uh, yeah.”

“Enjoying your day?”

You pinched your nose. 

“Would like it a lot more if you could lead us to a table with as much privacy as you can offer.”

You had to hand it to Steve for taking advantage of situations like this. 

The bouncer agreed immediately, speaking with the manager and promising discretion. The manager said it was no problem, that it was the least he could do for you guys after you brought his son back to him after those rough five years. 

The restaurant offered a somewhat real Italian setting, awarding their guests with as much real scenery and architecture it could. You could only compare it to the Venetian in Vegas as you had never actually been to Italy, but the live band and garlic smell was enough to transport you. 

The lights were low, older couples enjoying the food and wine, and there was a small bar near the back of the restaurant. It wasn’t really a place for some shady business, but years of experience let you know that wasn’t always the case. It was second nature to eye women reaching into their purses, only to pull out a pack of gum. Second nature to wince at the sound of a loud laugh cutting through the quiet atmosphere. 

As promised, you were led to a more private area of the restaurant, closer to the bar than to the band. 

“Go run the job, Scott. We’ll just be enjoying our unlimited breadsticks,” you said, letting out a heavy and relaxed sigh as you settled into the private booth. 

“That hat isn't really hiding those broad shoulders, Cap,” Scott laughed, slapping Steve on the back.

Steve slid into the same booth, ignoring the completely empty seat across from you. “Thanks, Scott. I’m aware.”

You tried to hide your blush as you squeezed deeper in your seat. Scott noticed though, side eyeing Steve who was none the wiser. “You know, I told him that he should have used those facial changing things SHIELD used to have.”

Steve grabbed the offered utensils and started unwrapping them from their napkins. 

“What are we if not superheroes who think a baseball cap and glasses hide our identities?” you teased, shooting Scott a quick wink. 

Steve answered almost triumphantly, “Uh, Superman?”

You giggled and grabbed the napkin he had unwrapped for you. “I’d argue Thor is more like Superman, but okay.”

“How am I not more like Superman? What-”

“Uh, guys? I see the dude so I’m gonna go. You two enjoy your meal,” Scott interrupted, running off to a booth located toward the middle of the restaurant. 

You sat for a few awkward moments before you squinted and looked at Steve, who was sitting to your left and way too close. “Are we annoying?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, like,” you spoke with your hands, “you and I bicker a lot because we love to annoy each other but you think it gets on other people’s nerves?”

Steve chuckled, rubbing his shoulder with yours. “Do you really care if it does?”

That blush of yours was starting to feel warmer. “No, just wondering if you felt that way.”

He shrugged, “I quite like our relationship.”

“Oh,” you smiled, looking down at your lap.  “I quite liked it more a few years back but you know.” 

He immediately tensed, body leaning away from you as if you were burning him. You shut your eyes and shook your head. “Sorry, that was low.”

He sighed deeply, “No, I deserve it. I’ll always deserve it.”

You took a risk and reached for his hand, squeezing gently. The kind gesture seemed to calm him, and he looked back at you. “I still shouldn’t have said it.”

He accepted that, and handed you the menu. 

The hotel food was grand, it did its job of filling you up and providing the necessary nutrients, but there was just something about the carbs in pasta and bread. It ignited the food critic inside you, because now you were cursing the hotel chef and dreading having to order breakfast in the morning. No, dinner. You were having breakfast with your father tomorrow. 

Scott was busy conducting his own business, bluetooth turned off but still glancing over his shoulder once in a while to check on you guys. Each time he did, he felt butterflies flutter in his breadstick-filled stomach. It was the first time he had seen the two of you so carefree, let alone with each other, and it was the most refreshing thing in the world. 

Steve was in the middle of telling another childhood story, his main plate already finished and practically licked clean. But the unlimited breadsticks were coming out by the pound, a new stick in each of your hands every five minutes. 

“I swear, she loved Bucky more than me!”

You covered your mouth and chewed, careful to not let anything through because of your giggle fit. “Steve! Your mother did not!”

Steve wiped at his under eye, clutching his chest as he continued explaining. “Bucky was always around and my mom would just linger every second she wasn’t working!”

“Bet she loved him.”

“See?”

“No, I mean she must have loved him like her own! Bucky was your best friend, your only friend. She probably thought of him like an angel sent from God!” you clarified. 

Steve smiled wider at your cheesy explanation. They were happy memories, joyful ones that he would often think about while writing or drawing. 

He continued with a soft confession. “I really wish I could see her again.”

You leaned your temple on your palm, “From everything you’ve shared with me, she sounds lovely.”

“She would have loved you.” The blush was back, and so was Steve’s, almost like those words were supposed to be kept in the back of his head. He cleared his throat. “God, she was so destroyed when Bucky first got his orders.”

“Was Bucky scared?”

“Scared? Absolutely fucking terrified. We talked about running away and changing our names so he didn’t have to go.”

The draft was such a horrible practice. The fact that men still had to enlist and hope no ‘necessary’ war was upon them. It was quite reassuring to know most of those men wouldn’t have to see battle today, they were given a choice, and there were agencies that managed people who could, like the Avengers. 

“Steve…”

Steve just hummed softly, “Life in the forties, am I right?

Your voice also got quieter. “Why didn’t you run away?”

Steve huffed out a laugh, swallowing the last of his bread. “We tried. Got all the way to the edge of town before Bucky’s dad wrung us both back to kick our asses.”

Almost out of instinct, you gripped his hand again. You rubbed soothing circles into his knuckles, knuckles that hadn’t seen hand-to-hand combat in so long. There wasn’t much danger in the world nowadays, just small missions here and there. It wasn’t like the team was itching for another alien invasion. But these periods of well needed rest were odd, periods where bruises completely healed up and little pockets of weight were gained. Steve’s knuckles were soft, only having seen the ends of paintbrushes for a long while. 

 “...Where’s your mother?”

His voice snapped you from your thoughts, and you had to repeat the question in your own head a couple times. 

“It’s not a happy story.”

There wasn’t much of a story anyway. 

“But is it a story you need to get off your chest?”

Steve didn’t want to push too hard. The long pause in your relationship definitely didn’t soften this blow, and it only added to the strings of resistance. If you decided not to tell Steve about this, Steve would have to accept it. If anything, this was one of the toughest questions to ask someone when all you’ve been doing is ignoring them for two years. 

“Not really much to get rid of.”

He nodded, only a slight hint of disappointment laced within his words. “You don’t have to tell me.”

Natasha was the only one with any knowledge of your mom. There was never an actual moment in which you freely spoke of her - inserting her likeness, her person, back into some alternate and fucked-up reality - you kept her legacy dead. It was obvious she hadn’t enjoyed this part of her life, no doubt it absolutely killed her to leave you trapped in it, so keeping her dead, even in conversation, was a favor. 

But one drunken night and you were showing Natasha the one photo you had of her, stuffed deep in your wallet and crinkled beyond repair. Her black hair to her shoulders, lip liner a darker shade than her lipstick, hands intertwined behind her back as she arched forward in a playful tilt, shooting the camera a smile that was stuck around the word she was saying as the candid was taken. There was no recorded voice but you had a record of her movement, frozen in time.     

Steve’s sincerity grasped you by the literal roots of your hair, because next thing you knew you were spilling the first thought you had. 

“She was twenty-three. Working as a real estate agent, very beautiful, and she was engaged. To an American.”

Steve chuckled around his champagne glass, “Was that bad?”

You grinned at that, like he was already fully and deeply invested in your story. “Not necessarily. But everyone knew she was taken.”

“And your father?”

“He wanted to buy some houses. Saw her, wanted her, tried persuading her into going on a date. Nothing really worked, she didn’t accept his money or gifts.”

Steve fumbled over his next words. “Did she eventually?”

“No, but her brother did. My father didn’t know it was her brother, so he thought she was accepting them. Got mad when she still refused his advances.”

He was digesting this little by little. Steve had heard horror stories of girls he grew up with, forced to marry at a young age when they were caught in a passionate moment with a man, or when they ended up pregnant. Bucky and his mother had always instructed him to treat women with respect, to never intentionally or accidentally ruin their reputation, to protect and use his voice to stand up for them. And although women weren’t getting frisky with him when he was all but ninety pounds at the ripe age of twenty, that didn’t stop Steve from exchanging a few words and punches with men who had no right.  “How did they end up together?”

You shrugged, reaching over for another breadstick. “No one knows. He invited her to a party one day and she didn’t come back for a whole week. Next thing her family knows she’s engaged to my father and no longer with the love of her life.”

“That’s awful.”

“Yeah, her family had no choice but to accept that. Her poor fiance, though.” 

“Where is he now?”

Steve had this weird hope that the fiance may still be alive somewhere, waiting for your mother to find him. But that was just the hopeless romantic emerging. 

You sighed deeply, “My father told my mother he killed him. My mother believed him.”

“So, he’s still alive? He didn’t hurt him?”

“Apparently he’s still kicking, yeah. But my mom became severely depressed from that lie.”

The restaurant felt colder and the air became thinner. Steve didn’t want his next thought to be true. “She didn’t...?”

You shook your head quickly, “No, she found out he was alive.” Even if you weren’t witness to it, you could still imagine your mother charting the areas she would have to run and swim through to get away. Wasn’t like it was a heartfelt thought, but the mere fact that she had that much determination to risk her life for love, it was somewhat therapeutic to think about. Like it was genuinely satisfying to imagine her defying your father. Still, your face drooped as you gave Steve the sad conclusion. “She didn’t even make it across the border before he had her killed for betraying him.”

His face fell in time with yours, “Fuck.”

“She left me with Maribel’s mother. But my father found me and told me she had an accident. Didn’t find out the truth until I was thirteen.”

“I’m so sorry.”

You shoved his shoulder with yours, a light chuckle cutting through the sad moment. “Not like you had a hand in this, Steve. It’s just my life.”

You were used to Steve’s generosity, his ability to make any person feel a part of his family - you had been on the receiving end of his sincerity for the past week now. But as you held his gaze, his body seemingly towering over yours, your chest flushed with such warmness, a tranquil promise of safety. He leaned forward, breath hitting your cheeks, hand still gripping yours. 

“Not anymore. We’ll end this, Y/N. I promise you, we’ll end this.”

You took a risk and rested your forehead on his, his continuous promise still causing your stomach to twist pleasurably. “How’d we get so sad all of a sudden?” You pushed away and threw your arms in the air. “We need more breadsticks!”

Steve laughed loudly, the private booth still providing somewhat of a thin curtain to the other diners. “No, we need mints!”

Rolling your eyes, you blew your breath at Steve teasingly. “Weak.”

Steve groaned, “You and Scott are not getting into the car without chewing on a mint.”

“You got a thing against bad breath?”

“Take the mint.”

“I’m gonna fight you if you force the mint on me.”

He was reaching into his jacket and pulling the small case out. He winked at you. “I’ll win.”

He popped open the cap and held it out to you. He didn’t tip it though, as if he was waiting for you to extend your palm. Everything was silent for a minute, eyes challenging one another. 

He could easily lean in. He could easily just tilt his head a little to his left and capture your lips with his. Every damn molecule in his body was telling him to do it, every bubble from that champagne somehow giving him some extra courage. 

Your breath hitched slightly, and he leaned away. I’m such a coward, he thought.

You reacted swiftly, disguising the awkwardness. “You’re right, give me the mint. You should swallow like three.”

Steve snickered, “You ruined the moment.”

But you didn’t ruin the moment. And he just blamed you for it. Like he had already established - he was a coward. 

You grabbed the mints he offered and popped them into your mouth. “What moment? I didn’t see any moment.”

Okay, he could just lean in right now and hope the mint freshness in your mouth would mask the garlic in his. Yeah, he could just lean in and do what he’s been thinking of doing for the last day and a half-

“Hey, you guys finished? Getting dessert?”

Steve almost shot from his seat, “Jesus fucking christ, Scott!”

Scott slid into the seat across from you. “You scare easily. Let’s get dessert!” 

You were too flustered. Fine, okay. You’ll play along. If the gods want to reward you with this fun Steve, the Steve you were closest to years ago, then so be it. You’ll bite. And if he wants to resort back to his bitchy self, his hermit behavior, then you’ll fight him then. 

Scott ordered so much dessert. 

So much. 

The little moment you had with Steve was still fresh, you could sense he was thinking about it too, but you opted to simply enjoy the night out. You were here with two friends, protection was just a phone call away, and you were safe. 

Perhaps Scott had the same effect on Steve that he had on you. Absolutely demolished his ‘Captain’ self and released the guy who simply wanted to enjoy a mini road trip with his friends. 

     You were barely fifteen minutes into your ride home when Scott lowered the windows and turned the radio up high. 

“Woohoo!”

You screamed over the loud roar of the wind, “Scott, it’s fucking freezing!”

Scott yelled back, “We just had three desserts each! Your blood should be running warm!”

You blinked away the dryness, “Dude!”

Steve, surprisingly, agreed with Scott. “Enjoy it!”

Your mouth dropped open and you followed Steve’s movements as he turned the radio higher. 

The music blared and you were about to protest again, the air literally nipping at your sensitive cheeks, but the song that started was a non-skip. 

You would indulge in this childishness once. 

Once. 

You reached around the passenger seat and gripped Steve’s shoulders, shaking him in place. “Ah, California radio giving us the classics!”

Scott leaned over and turned it up higher. 

You swayed in your seat and sang along with Scott. “Bidi bidi bom bom!”

Scott pointed at you and recited the lyrics, “Bidi, bidi!”

Both of you sang, “Bom!”

Even with his eyes on the road, Scott was nailing some good dance moves in his seat. You both sang each lyric with your heart and soul, laughs escaping during the guitar breaks. 

Steve just enjoyed the show. He didn’t know the song, the melody a foreign one for him, but it must have been popular for both you and Scott to know it. He watched you sway in your seat, hands dancing and voice matching the volume of the radio. Just the other night, you had mentioned how you never sang anymore.

But here you were, singing through the most beautiful smile Steve had ever seen. 

He missed the sound of it. He missed hearing you sing in your room, no doubt you were dancing too since he usually heard your feet shuffling against your carpet. He missed the innocence you would casually portray, an invitation for anyone to befriend you. He missed teasing you lightly, and he regretted the roughness of his voice years later. He missed just walking into the common area and finding you there, cooking for yourself and anyone who wanted a plate - that plate usually for him. He missed you. 

You were right here, voice hitting those octaves Steve didn’t think he would ever hear again. You were right here, and he missed you. 

      Scott was staying in a separate room. The dessert and alcohol had run right through him, and he bid you goodnight after he threatened to plop down in your bed if you invited him in. 

The sound of Scott’s retreating footsteps seemed to suck all the air from the vents at once, whispering its song lovingly in your ear. It was both refreshing and terrifying to be left alone because now here you were, standing outside your hotel door with the super soldier you had gone to Hell and back with. 

You inwardly cringed, the tightness in your chest sending your childish ass back to sophomore year of college. A first date, the lost promise of another - a proper teenage reaction to a crush. But this man in front of you wouldn’t let you delete his number from your phone; he wouldn’t avoid eye contact in the dining hall; he wouldn’t sit at the back of the lecture hall just to keep a necessary distance. 

Granted, Elijah - poor, frightened Elijah - had seen you literally kidnap someone off the street under your father’s orders. This being before you went straight and moral, before you had met Fury, before SHIELD training. You were to blame for that sprouting relationship going south pretty quickly. So you avoided him, too - praying Ernesto or Seda could never track him. 

But Steve, beautiful Steve who reloaded your guns when you couldn’t, who jumped in front of stray bullets for you and those he loved, Steve who very quietly asked you for various salsa recipes when he was in the mood to cook. Here he was, eyes also watching Scott walk away, no doubt experiencing the same tight coil within his chest. He hadn’t run, he had worked and fought with and against you, and he wasn’t running away. 

No, Steve Rogers never ran. 

The low beep from the hotel lock snapped you from your thoughts. You sensed his hesitance because when your history was truly reviewed with the most unbiased of minds, there was absolutely no reason to overthink. Hell, when you ran through the halls of Thor’s Asgardian palace with Rocket tailing you, the first joke out your mouth was how Steve would probably instruct you to respect a place like that and speed walk. Your first thought when starting the pilot episode of a new show is to wait for Bucky… and Steve, who would pop the kernels over the stove and add real salt and butter. 

His first thought as he helped load people onto the planes in Sokovia was that your whiny ass better be on one of them. Or when Steve regrouped in the support circle, his first thought before he continued the discussion was that he really hoped you would walk through those doors and join - until one day you did. 

Whether the two of you recognized the severity of your unspoken feelings, they were there. Silent and at a gradual increase. Never rushed, not entirely obvious because of the temporary roadblocks of unnecessary separation. 

Steve was here in front of you, like he always was, and he was wearing the smallest nervous smile you had ever seen.  

And you were here in front of him, like you always were, and he could not entirely read the mixed emotions on your delicate face. 

You shuffled alongside your bed, stopping to shrug out of the heavy jacket you had on. “We should turn in early so we can be well-rested, in case we gotta fight tomorrow.”

Steve nodded in agreement but remained silent, hovering near the coffee table and monitors. Your back was facing him and he just watched you fumble with your boots and belt. It was like your back was on fire, bursting with fueled flames as you could literally feel his gaze boring into you. The overwhelming urge to simply snap and ask him what the hell he was looking at was strong, so in character, but you refrained. It was too intimate, too quiet, but before you could even ask him if he wanted the shower first, the warmth of his chest was near, inches away and calling. 

Your breath hitched, shoulders rising slightly and exactly what Steve needed to witness. It was awkward for him to just stand behind you with no actual intention of touching you first - no, he needed a proper signal. So Steve waited those few precious seconds more until you turned, sun-kissed by the California sun and hair no longer in tight curls, before he glanced down at your glossy lips. You followed his eyesight, all knowing in his intentions, and you glanced at his lips as well. 

A gesture of approval. 

Steve pulled you in, both hands settling on your cheeks, thumbs exploring the corners of your mouth. He watched them dance and how your mouth parted slightly in response. He looked back up, studying the small crease forming in between your eyebrows and the pinch of water filling the inside corners of your eyes.

His thumbs felt like a gentle sigh, a promise of a sweet caress in both the daytime and dead of night. Although all his focus was on you, his own features reacted to the moment. His lips were also parted, sweet breath with the scent of those classic tiramisu’s he had devoured, touching the tip of your nose and equally trembling lips. 

So goddamn intimate that you found yourself internally cursing those sitcoms Wanda had forced you to binge watch. Because the two love interests, albeit they had several months or years of growing tension, rushed into their first kiss for the sake of limited airtime. They didn’t prepare you for practically a ten-year build-up, a relationship that was both heavily work and friend related, the slowness of such a moment fans would most certainly be jumping out of their seats for. No, nothing could have prepared you for the warmth of Steve Rogers. 

Your Captain. 

You registered the soft feeling of his lips as they pressed against yours, overlapped only slightly. Eyes now fully closed in surprise and pleasure, you leaned into it more, hands placed on Steve’s rising chest. The squeeze of his hands cupping your cheeks caused your lips to pucker more, but you were relaxed in his desperate touch. He tilted his head a little to the left, your lips sliding against each other’s and noses bumping. Steve frowned in concentration, pouring whatever emotions he had felt throughout the last few years into this one kiss, and he knew he couldn’t possibly fully portray them. And almost as quickly as you thought about how sweet and innocent of a kiss this was, Steve’s tongue slowly peaked out from behind his teeth and greeted your bottom lip. 

His tongue traced over your bottom lip warmly, welcomed by yours as you followed his lead. God, you would always follow his lead. 

You tried to move in closer, but your elbows were already bent fully against him and his hips were only a few inches from your greedy ones. One tiny step forward and you would be completely flushed against him - but you chose to respect the distance Steve created. 

You let out a quiet whine, body shuddering as Steve applied more pressure. It was as if Steve had never heard such a sound - completely unexpected and causing him to pause momentarily. He leaned away a little, lips still barely kissing yours. He opened his eyes, gaze wandering from your flushed cheeks still squeezed between his palms and to your fluttering eyelids. The crease between his eyebrows deepened as he debated leaning forward again, to be selfish for once and to pass forth the trophy for ‘waiting too long’. But as you opened your eyes, no trace of regret or hate swimming inside your irises, Steve froze. 

You were his friend. His friend who teased him about the paint streaks across his forehead, who followed his lead no matter how ridiculous the order. 

He didn’t want you to inspect him further as well, so he shut his eyes and rested his forehead against yours. It was only then that he felt you settle back down from your tippy-toes. 

You gulped loudly, throat dry and lips instantly craving him again. “Steve…”

Steve let go of your face and dragged his hands lightly down your neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He turned his head slightly, his breath now kissing your cheek. Although your cheeks were red, the absence of Steve’s palms made them cold. 

He took a small step back, hands straining to stay on your skin as he reluctantly pulled them away. The absence of any warmth finally woke you from that intense daze and you frowned at Steve as he pulled away altogether. The instinct to reach out was there, and you cursed yourself for being so clingy. 

“Steve?” you called again, voice hoarse but light enough to pinch at Steve’s fast beating heart. 

He looked up and locked eyes with your confused ones. Oh, you’re gonna hate him for this. 

He gave you a small and kind smile, one you had seen plenty of times when he was actually enjoying your company. He backed up to the door, gaze never leaving yours even as he reached for the handle and key card. 

And he wanted to bring his hands back to your face to rub away that wrinkle between your furrowing eyebrows. But he simply opened the door and left you standing near the edge of your bed, flushed with a deep sense of longing and growing confusion. 

Steve already knew the amount of heat he would receive from the moment gossip of the kiss spread. Whether he was first to tell or you were. Bucky’s going to kick his ass, for sure, no doubt about it. No matter his bond with Bucky, it could never excuse leaving you alone to unravel this situation. You had this hold over Bucky, a soft mutual understanding of mental torture, so this inevitable ass kicking would be justified. Plus, after years of being rejected over and over, mostly in the forties, Bucky might just kick his ass for simply being a dumbass. 

But Steve felt calm, an added relaxation due to the whiskey cooling in his hand. If there was anything Steve was an expert in, it was overthinking. You two had that in common - were you overthinking while absentmindedly watching TV? Overthinking while rubbing shampoo into your scalp? Overthinking while angrily stomping your way down to the hotel bar to hand his ass back over to him?

He let out a sigh of relief when he didn’t see you burst through the doors. 

      “Anyone wanna start?”

Steve glanced around the circle of familiar and new faces. The group varied each week. Some people would try, share their anecdotes about lost loved ones, only to never show up for another session. Others often attended and never spoke, but they kept returning. Steve didn’t judge their choices - he couldn’t. No matter how many mornings he wanted to crawl back under the sheets and binge eat packaged foods, he never could. He had been at this job for two years. There was both pain and satisfaction in what he did. Sam would be doing this if he were here. 

And he had to do this for Sam. 

“My divorce was finalized yesterday.”

Steve looked over at the man who spoke first, a long-time member of this particular support group, and grimaced at his confession. The man couldn’t have been more than thirty, no wrinkles or gray hair, and he was ending a two-year marriage. 

“I’m sorry, Michael.”

The man, Michael, shrugged sadly, “We still love each other, man. But seeing your newborn disintegrate in your arms does something to your soul that’s just… we both knew we needed to move on. Even if it was from each other.”

Steve squeezed the small, red stress ball in his hand and tried to offer more condolences and a kind smile, but it came out rather painful. He opted to stay silent in case Michael wanted to continue. Instead, another member decided to comment. 

It went like this for almost an hour with Steve adding in his empathetic words of wisdom whenever he saw appropriate. It was good for everyone to share so openly, to carry the conversation with minimal involvement from Steve. Steve had shared snippets of his story with the group awhile back, careful to not mention the gruesome specifics. He had let out as much as he was able, not as much as he would have liked, but his main job was to facilitate. Besides, Steve went to confession every month to talk to someone - anyone - even if he wasn’t necessarily Catholic. But that’s just the thing - no one knew who they were anymore. 

The sound of a scraping chair leg caught everyone’s attention, and they all turned to the entrance in search of the disruption. You paused in your movements, face scrunched in embarrassment. Opening one eye, you mouthed a quick apology and rushed to carry the chair to the circle. 

“I’m sorry I’m late. Subway was a bitch,” you muttered, your embarrassed smile growing wider. 

For over a year, Steve had subtly urged you to attend one of these meetings. He was witness to your nightmares, your destructive solo missions that even Friday had no records of, and your sudden breakdown last week. You were casually jogging around the outdoor track when you suddenly stopped and fell to your knees, broken sobs seeming to shake the trees around you. You were crouched for a good minute before Steve had seen you wipe your eyes and continue your jog. As if nothing happened. 

To see you here, whether to share or to listen, prompted the proud and erratic beating of Steve’s heart. 

“It’s completely fine. Time’s almost up but we still got time for you.”

You sent Steve a funny smile, amused by his professional tone. “Uh, yeah! A friend convinced me to come. He was pretty persuasive.”

Steve blushed, head tilting downward. 

You introduced yourself and let the group know you were also an Avenger. No one seemed shocked and you were suddenly grateful for this mixture of people. 

Steve sat and listened, his nerves settling. 

“I’m gonna be honest with you all,” you started, thumbs dancing in your lap. “And I’m not sure how you’ll react.”

Steve sat up straight, eyebrows scrunching as he listened intently. 

You sighed, wetting your lips briefly. “The day before the snap, I was supposed to die.”

You wanted to avoid Steve’s gaze until the right moment. You continued, “I went on a mission to Mexico. Alone, which was completely against protocol but hey, we broke a lot more rules than that.”

Steve cleared his throat which earned a chorus of chuckles from the group. 

“And I was technically on house arrest but I found out a way to temporarily disable that ankle monitor,” you added, grinning from the laughs you were receiving. 

“Anyway, all my potential backup was nonexistent. I had friends on the run,” you paused, glancing at Steve with a somber expression. “And other friends literally fighting another battle on their home planet somewhere in space. So, I went alone.”

“While I was bleeding out from a bullet my own father ordered, Tony was already up in space. Loki was already dead.”

You hoped no one commented on Loki’s role in your life. He wasn’t exactly a nice figure to suddenly name drop in New York, but he was important in your grief. 

It was slightly unnerving to be on display here, but you weren’t exactly planning on returning. You just needed to rant. 

“I stitched myself up the best I could in that quinjet - which I almost crashed,” you muttered, smirking at Steve. “Sorry, Cap.”

“This is the first time I've heard you flew. You’re not even authorized to fly,” Steve declared, face scrunched in confusion and astonishment. 

“That’s not important,” you teased. “But the stitches were messy work. Horrible criss-crosses.”

Steve was in a tiny state of shock. He had known what happened to you, but to hear you talk so casually about the day before the world went to shit - it just made it more real. 

You had mentioned before that you never dreamed about the snap, but about everything leading up to it. 

“I woke up, betrayed yet again by my own blood, and Steve was suddenly there after two years. We were gonna fight an outside threat.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and huffed lightly, “I was still healing but I was on the battlefield. Stayed close to Nat most of the time.”

The group was heavily invested in your retelling. “I couldn’t fight him, obviously. But I did see him. I saw how he ripped that stone from my friend’s head.”

A few winces sounded around the circle. 

“I guess I feel immense guilt. Like, I could have done something more even though realistically, I couldn’t. Kinda feels like I sat back and watched my friend’s die.”

No one spoke, but it was obvious everyone had survivor’s guilt. 

“And now, I’m living with the pain of having all three of my best friends stripped from me while also celebrating the fact that the snap took my father.”

Shrugging, you gave your last sad smile to the group. “I feel guilty for what happened while also being grateful it took someone who deserved it.”

After a few seconds of silence, Steve spoke. “You’re here today to tell your story. No one has to agree or disagree with you. It’s your story. Tell it like it is.”

You chuckled, “I could easily bother Steve with this at the compound.” You smiled at the teenager clutching what looked like a stuffed animal in his lap. “But I had nothing else to do tonight. My only friends are gone.”

“You and Steve aren’t friends?”

This time it was Michael that spoke, his eyes bouncing from you to Steve. You turned to Steve for some kind of answer. Was it a yes? Were you more like coworkers than true friends? 

Steve’s eyes softened and his kind smile was back. 

You answered, “I guess. I did come here for him.”

Steve rolled his eyes and kept his light-hearted tone, “I’m really glad you did.” 

Steve backtracked, clearing his throat as he addressed the circle. “I’m really glad all of you did. Same time next week.”

You busied yourself with stacking the chairs and dusting off your pants. Once most of the group had left, Steve gathered his things and walked over to you. “You take the subway?”

Your head shot up at the sound of his voice, and you stacked the final chair high. “I did. You drive?”

Steve hummed in response, “Want a lift?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, “You’re not staying at your place tonight?”

“Nah, I haven’t seen Nat in a week. I should pay her a visit.”

He curled his jacket around your shoulders as you exited the building. You held it tightly, relishing in the comfort. The walk back to the car was quiet but not awkward. After such a heavy night, silence was most definitely needed. And just the comfort of being around someone you trusted added to the relaxation aspect of it all. 

Steve kicked a loose piece of gravel to the street. You watched him for a few seconds before you spoke, voice light and a puff of cold air escaping your lips. 

“Steve?” 

He turned to you and waited for you to continue speaking. 

“You know Sam would be so proud of you doing this, right?”

Steve watched the cold air leave his own lungs as well. He felt the weight of that statement pressing down on his shoulders as he looked up at the dark sky. “I know.”

     Steve knew he was utterly fucked, so fucked that any line that had been established was stepped over and kicked a thousand yards back. His mind was made up, he would not run, he would not succumb to some former mindset 2016 Steve would have fallen victim to. He was a new person, a completely different person than he was out of the ice and after the snap. He deserved to cross the line, he deserved whatever happiness was afforded to him - he deserved comfort in the arms of another after years of denying himself. 

He downed the rest of his drink with a loud gulp, mind made up, and headed back to your room. 

    It was best to just pretend it never happened… no? But did you want to pretend it never did? So many moments over the years where this could have happened, where either of you could have literally just said ‘fuck it’. As overthinking was a specialty, quite a useless skill, you thought about the countless fights you had. 

Red in the face, hands clenched until nails imprinted little crescents, absolutely seething at the mouth. Some of the things you would yell were vile, none at all honest but with the intent to cause pain for only a moment, and mumbled apologies later. You were literally enemies for these past two, long years. Enemies who had to be seated and scolded, tricked into accepting defeat and living as teammates once more. 

Perhaps one of those arguments could have been remedied by simply leaning in like you had tonight, by throwing each other against the wall, by pulling the roots of your hair as he tugged-

Nope. 

Nope. 

No matter how much tension you were now realizing you had for this man, tension that could literally be fucked out, wasn’t it too late to act on it? You couldn’t pinpoint the chance you maybe had and missed. 

Steve walked through the door in the middle of your rapid brainstorming. He just grinned sweetly and slipped into the bathroom. 

As simple as that. 

Now you couldn’t discern between the feelings of wanting to fight him or fuck him. Not being able to differentiate between them ignited a sour mood, and once he stepped out from the shower, you basically pushed him to the side to lock yourself in. 

Even the warm water hitting your body couldn’t alleviate the pressure of overthinking. You disregarded your hair tonight and instead just washed your body. As quick as you could jump back out and go to bed, the better.  

Sucking in a deep breath, you opened the door and shut off the bathroom light. Your eyes landed on Steve’s torso, shirtless and the only thing not covered by the white blanket. He hadn’t shaved his beard either, the length evident when he kissed you earlier. It felt wrong and right at the same time, a battle that you seriously did not want to deal with. To get involved with your mission partner was dangerous - not because Steve himself was dangerous, but because it was a giant distraction. A distraction that you couldn’t afford. 

But as he put down his book and lay it in his lap, looking up to look at you through hooded eyes, sleepy but alert, the ‘danger’ was nothing but enticing. 

You cleared your throat and padded down your pajama shorts absentmindedly, slinging your hair over one shoulder and focusing on plugging your charger into your phone. It was so silent besides your pitter-patter, and god, did Steve find that sound so relaxing, until you climbed into bed. Once your shuffling was done, the slight buzzing of Steve’s desk lamp drowned out all your other senses. And the longer it was heard, the more it sounded like a ticking clock. 

Steve shut the lamp off, the only light now illuminating your figure from outside. He studied your breathing, watching how every so often you would bring your hand up to scratch your cheek or move a stray hair. You looked so gentle, so inviting, so small. 

You were turned away from him and facing the wall, eyes shut as you listened to his movements. There was a small part of you that wanted to stay up all night talking, to lean on his shoulder and simply feel his warmth, to feel that beard against your cheek one more time. As quickly as those thoughts flashed through your mind did you scold yourself, that this was inappropriate and wrong and so dangerous. 

You felt a dip in your bed, heavy and unsure, a lift of your blankets, and it happened so quickly that you could have sworn you dreamt it. Steve wrapped his arm around you, his broad chest pressed tightly against your back and his lips attacked the skin just below your earlobe. Your breath hitched, eyes shot open, and your hands reached up to grip his wrist. Steve stilled. 

“Tell me to stop,” he breathed, lips hovering over your blushing skin and breath practically blistering. You could feel him now, hard and pulsing against your ass and ready to move. You felt dizzy, overcome with such a rush of desire that you couldn’t help but stiffen in his tight grasp. 

“Don’t,” you choked out, feeling his body become rigid and his breath begin to quicken. 

“I’m sorry I-” he began to move away from you, voice no longer a whisper and tainted with panic. 

“No,” you pulled back, tilting your head up to lock eyes with him. You brought your arm up to grasp the back of his head, and you tugged it back to your neck. “Don’t stop.”

Yeah, he was utterly fucked. “Fuck,” he groaned, continuing the attack on your neck. But he gained momentum now, arm squeezing you against him tighter, and voice cracking as he moaned your name. 

“Steve, please do something.”

Your hands found their way back to his arm, gripping it tightly as he fumbled with the waistband of your shorts. He played with it, teasing in his actions, almost as punishment for the years you tormented him with your attitude. His lips pressed harder now, finding each patch of available skin on your neck and flushed cheek, and Steve has never felt so aroused in his life. He wasn’t even inside you, but the quick gasps he heard from you did plenty in aiding the rush of blood from his head to his stiffening cock. 

“Tell me what you want. Please, tell me and I’ll give it to you,” he moaned, the slightest experimental role of the hips causing you to whimper. 

“Touch me,” you practically sobbed, rolling your hips back against him, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt all of him.  

And just like that, he gave you what you asked for. He gripped your hip and shoved you closer to him, hot and ready and pressed firmly against you. He rolled his hips into you, little whimpers of his own touching your sensitive ear. He quickened his pace and he found it hard to think straight when the scrunch of pleasure all over your face, making you look so willing, was all he was focused on. He focused on the way you bit your lip, a bite and then a gasp, and then you were back to biting as if you were trying to restrain any higher moan. And even with only the moonlight illuminating the room, he could see the sun-kissed color of your skin and the bruising he was causing. He kept his mouth on you as he rocked himself against you, indulging in a few more selfish seconds of pleasure before becoming his generous self. 

He dipped his hand into your shorts and found the sweet nub that so desperately needed attention. His brain almost short circuited, the feeling of his fingers finally sliding into your wet lips making his throat dry. He drew little but skilled circles, each twirl of his index and middle finger in unison with the grind of his hips. Your mouth fell open by such pleasure, and you braced yourself by placing your left palm on the mattress and pressed down, nails scratching the cotton fabric and alerting Steve of your excitement. You pushed back against him, timed and in perfect harmony. 

You knew the room wasn’t on fire, but even if it was you didn’t think to check. 

“Keep talking to me, Y/N. Keep talking to me,” Steve begged, each rotation of his hips gaining pressure. His eagerness prompted you to reach back up and grab him by the hair, yanking his head to your tilted one and smashing his lips against yours. Steve gasped at the pleasant sting, somewhat surprised with himself that he liked that form of roughness. But who was he to judge his kinks when the tip of your nose was turning redder, the blush in your cheeks mixed with barely visible silver droplets of sweat, and a purple outline was beginning to form on your plump upper lip? 

The kiss was sloppy, uncoordinated, but still beneficial in getting Steve to rut against you even harder. 

He could so easily pull your shorts down and enter you, and if he was anything like he felt, then you knew it would sting. But you craved that sting and stretch, the thought of him inside you causing another gush of desire to leak from you. Steve dipped his finger deeper into you only to accumulate your juices and spread them higher. He went back to rubbing expertly, actions gaining speed to match your whimpers. 

“Fuck, Steve,” you moaned louder, and you swore you felt tears forming in the corner of your eyes. You pressed back harder, his hand rubbing and pressing down on your stomach simultaneously. Your head felt cloudy, the pleasure coursing through your veins and to the very tips of your toes. “Oh, my fuck.”

Steve paused his fingers to trail his hand back up your stomach and to your breasts, pulling your tank top down to spill them. The sounds leaving your throat set him on fire, desire pulsing everywhere - his head, his heart, his aching cock that was pressed so closely against you that he could feel you vibrating. He pinched your nipple and rolled it, closing his eyes in response to your dirty purrs. “Let me make you come, doll.”

“Wasn’t that the point?” you quipped, ass tilting at an angle that caused Steve to choke. He growled from the attitude he couldn’t believe you still fucking had during a moment like this and kissed you roughly, both your broken moans molding into one. His hand returned to your shorts. 

“Do that again,” he begged, hitching his leg up to rest on yours. The angle allowed him to drive his hips even harder. You maneuvered to provide the same tilt, grinning at the pleasurable cries that left your Captain’s mouth. 

“I think I’m gonna make you come first,” you chuckled and took his bottom lip between your teeth. You pulled lightly, concentration still in the circle of your hips. He looked back down at you, determination and undeniable lust in his eyes. He thrust his aching cock against you, sliding himself over your ass. He did it hard but slow, the pressure applied giving the head of his cock such a sweet squeeze as he bumped it against the curve of your lumbar spine. 

The heavy duvet was abandoned now, cold air from the hotel air conditioner failing in cooling you down at all. You both had a thin sheet of sweat on your clothed bodies, goosebumps standing proudly, and lips all plump and red from your harsh kissing. 

Steve held you so close, so tight, and his fingers were drawing such rushed and tiny circles that you swore his wrist had to be cramping up. But the sound of both your whimpers started to mesh together, alerting you of such a sweet climax up ahead. 

“Steve, fuck, fuck, ohh,” you mewled, voice now high pitched and yes, it turned Steve on incredibly but it also fueled you. Your pornographic moans ignited an even deeper desire within you, just the true fact that Steve was touching you, Steve was getting you to make these sounds, Steve is actually hearing these sounds, Steve is making the same exact sounds. 

 “I-, please, come for me,” Steve pleaded, cock twitching with each thrust as he neared his end. “Make me come.”

His begging, his equally high voice, his skilled fingers rubbing rapidly and the slight pain from that, his breath burning your neck, were all too powerful, their combinations causing the fire in your core to explode and make you see white in a flash, black dots later clouding your vision. Your nails dug into his moving arm, crescents branded into him. You clenched around nothing, walls fluttering and thighs shaking as they pressed around his hand and fingers. 

The inappropriate squelching sound of your juices spreading as your thighs clenched around his cramping fingers, the slide so sensual and dirty, had Steve rutting against you one, two, three more times before he came in hard but long spurts. His mouth hung open, breath still fanning your neck, and his eyes were so tightly shut that the force was enough to strain them. 

“Oh, fuuuck, yes, yes!” Steve groaned, his body taking longer than usual to recover. His orgasm was powerful, more powerful than when he got himself off in the shower or in the comfort of his bed at night, and he knew it was because you clouded his senses. Of course, there was an added benefit to getting off with someone else, aiding that person in the same endeavor, but because it was you, it made the climax even more forceful, more intense. The whole situation was both unexpected and calculated, gentle and rough, and Steve’s heart was beating so fast by the thought of what just occurred that he found himself wanting to spill into you all night long, and to apologize for overstepping an unspoken boundary. 

You could feel the wetness of both your own release and Steve’s, head still cloudy from such a sharp orgasm. You hummed in satisfaction, reaching your arm over once again to lift his head up by his hair. He hissed at the pull now, his body all fucked out and satisfied. “You good?”

Steve gave you a lazy smile, chest heaving in unison with yours. “I’m okay. You?”

“I’m good.”

Steve scanned your face for any regret just in case your words held other meaning, but all he could see was your satisfied expression, cheeks still flushed pink, hair tangled, and pupils dilated. He hesitated for a second before he leaned down and connected your lips, molding his with yours slowly and chastely. You both sighed at the feeling, highs now lowering and the coldness from the air conditioner causing a different set of goosebumps to appear. Steve pulled away, giving you one last peck as if testing the waters, and rested his forehead against yours. You both relished your post-orgasm bliss for a few silent minutes before cleaning up. 

You shared playful shoves as you cleaned up. It was almost innocent, a huge contrast to the sinful activities you two had just committed, but there was a genuine feeling of understanding in the room. Your heart clenched at the simple sight of Steve washing his hands, eyes meeting his in the mirror, a soft look in his that startled you. 

You gave him a smile so as to not alert him of your reaction, and exited the bathroom to climb back into bed. You drew the heavy duvet back over your body and cuddled in it deeply, chin hidden underneath and back facing Steve’s bed. It was a few more minutes before Steve came back into the room, shutting the light off, and looking at your resting form. He wanted to climb back in with you and hold you innocently, to have the feeling of your warm back against his broad chest, gentle exhales tickling the arm that would wrap around you. But he just looked back and forth from your bed and his, and he decided to not push the boundary further. He hesitated with this decision, but climbed into his own bed, the feeling of his cold sheets making him immediately regret it. He shuffled silently, his body facing yours. 

You wanted to lay beside him too. But whether you were making a smart decision or an absurd, cowardly one, one thing was certain: you could no longer ignore the stacking of such emotions you had for this man. 

It almost angered you, how much you denied yourself of even a simple crush for literally ten years, and it made you mad at Steve, too. Because if he hadn’t pushed you away, then maybe you could have accepted this sooner. 

~

TAGLIST: @dumb-ass-writer @justab-eautifulmess @supraveng @mycosmicparadise @missnighttigress​

[supernatural-fangirl1967]

Doctor’s Orders

Pairing: Doctor!Dean x Reader

Warnings: Injury, Fluff

Word Count: 2,129

Square Filled: Ice Cream Date

A/N: This was written for @spnfluffbingo​. Please let me know what you think!

“Your mother is going to kill me for this," you sigh as you give your niece a pointed look.

"Sorry," she giggles.

"This isn't funny, Amber," you tell her as you walk over to sit down beside of her on the hospital bed. "Do you know that you could have been seriously injured?”

“Yes, Ma'am," the five year old says as she withers underneath your gaze.

"When I told you to slow the bike down and to put both hands on the handle bars, this is why."

"I'm sorry," she whispers.

You sigh and carefully wrap an arm around her little body. "I don't need you to be sorry," you tell her softly. "I need you to be safe and to promise me that you will start listening to me."

"Okay," she frowns.

"I know that I've been the cool aunt so far but you have got to understand that there has to be limits."

"So, how's the little tree hugger doing today?"

You scowl as the doctor walks into the room and he gives you a friendly smile. "Tree hugger?" you ask him. "My niece almost breaks her neck wrecking her bike and you're making jokes about it?"

The doctor chuckles as he walks over towards Amber's bed. "I see that someone is still living the adrenaline high," he smiles. "Now, do I need to make sure that there aren't any pointy objects around when I ask if you'll kindly get off the bed, or do you think that that's a safe question?"

You roll your eyes as you stand up off the bed and walk over to plop down in the chair. You pull your phone out and you type out a reply to one of the hundreds of texts that your sister has sent you in the past two minutes.

"Of course, you just had to go and break your arm while your parents were vacationing out of town," you sigh as you look over at Amber once more.

"I take it that you're the aunt," the doctor says as he smile over at you.

"Guilty as charged," you tell him as you squint a bit to read his nametag. "Doctor Winchester."

"Dean," he smiles.

"Fine. Dean," you say and you stand up off of the chair before walking over towards the hospital bed once more. "Is the wild child going to be okay?"

"Well, we still need to run a head x-ray for good measure," Dean tells you as he softly prods Amber's arm a bit, wincing when she lets out a pitiful whine. "I know, sweetheart," Dean tells her softly before continuing to answer your question. “But right now the big thing is getting this arm in a cast."

"It's broke?" you ask him.

"X-rays showed a break and a small hairline fracture near the wrist," Dean nods. "But don't worry." He turns around to face you and you are starting to get a little bit annoyed by his sunny attitude. "A cast, some good pain medicine, plenty of rest, and some ice cream should make that arm feel as good as new."

"Great," you sigh. "I guess now I know where I have to stop when we leave here."

Dean chuckles before turning to face Amber once more. "We'll get that arm fixed up for you and make sure that there's no more damaged, and then you be sure that your aunt takes you to get some ice cream."

"Okay," she giggles.

Dean looks over at you and you can see a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Or," he smiles. "I might ought to tag along to make sure that your aunt there follows doctor's orders."

Your mouth drops open. "Please tell me that you didn't just ask me out on a date."

"I don't know," Dean shrugs with a smirk on his face. "What did it sound like to you?"

"It sounded like you just went the round about way of asking me out on a date."

"Well," Dean smiles as he stands up straight and crosses his arms over his chest. "I must be smoother than I thought."

You roll your eyes and take a deep breath. "Fine," you sigh. "You can tag along."

Dean smiles before turning to face Amber once more. "I can clock out in an hour. Meet me by the side door to the emergency room once this little gal gets all fixed up."

"Alright," you tell him.

Dean gives Amber a wink before walking over to one of the cabinets and pulling out a sucker. "Here," he smiles as he hands it over to Amber. "You've earned it."

When Dean walks out of the room, you walk over to Amber and take the sucker out of her hand. She pouts up at you but you give her a stern look.

"If you eat the sucker then that means no ice cream."

"Nevermind," Amber smiles.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," you say and you walk over to sit down in the chair once more.

"Well, someone's looking a lot less stressed," Dean says as you carry Amber out of the emergency room and over towards him.

"Yeah," you sigh as you carefully let go of Amber. "Sorry about being so uptight while ago with everything. With my sister and brother-in-law being away on vacation, I'm in charge of Amber and if something happened to her while in my care.."

"I get it," Dean says as he holds a hand up at you to stop your rambling. "Why don't we just go get some ice cream into that girl because if we don't follow doctor's orders, then her arm might not heal properly."

"You're full of it," you laugh as you motion Amber over to your car.

"I can drive us," Dean tells you.

"That's alright," you smile. "Amber's carseat is in my car anyways."

"I have a carseat." You give Dean a look and he laughs. "I have a niece too, so when I told you that I understood, I meant it. Believe me."

"Fine," you smile. "We'll ride with you." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Slow down there, sweetheart," Dean chuckles as Amber takes big bites off her ice cream cone. "There's no cure for brain freeze you know." Amber giggles as she tilts her chair forward so that she's able to reach the napkins on the table.

"Sit down in your chair!" you scold as you reach over to help her. "We don't need you falling and breaking your other arm."

"Someone needs to relax," Dean says, hiding his smile behind his cone when you scowl over at him.

"I will relax once I get that kid wrapped up completely in bubble wrap," you tell him.

"(Y/N), I'm all sticky."

"Go to the bathroom and grab some wet paper towels," you tell her. Amber nods before jumping down out of her chair and running over towards the doors that have the big ice cream cones on them. "And be careful to not get the cast wet."

"Yes, Ma'am," Amber says sweetly before running on inside. Sighing, you glance down at your melting ice cream before looking over at Dean.

"Be honest. How uptight have I been?" you ask him.

"You kidding me?" Dean smiles. "This is technically a first date you know and you've got me scared to make a move."

"Oh, like the fact that there's a five year old sitting across the table from us hasn't stopped you."

"That's never been an issue on any previous dates," Dean smirks at you and you roll your eyes a bit at him.

"I guess that I could probably calm down a little bit," you say and you take a bite of what was once a bowl of ice cream and is now more like soup.

"More than a little bit," Dean mutters and laughs when you scowl at him once more. "Hey, doctor's orders," he tells you softly.

"Yeah, well, I think that I need to find myself a new doctor," you mutter. You try and hide your smile when Dean scoffs at you.

"Well, maybe you just aren't that good of a patient," Dean tells you and you both smile at each other. "See?" he laughs. "You're bring a little bit nicer to me already."

"I was being nice," you tell him.

"Sweetheart, there's a difference between being nice and suppressing the urge to punch something," Dean chuckles. You laugh and playfully roll you eyes a bit at him.

"I wasn't wanting to punch you or anybody else," you tell him.

"I said something. Not someone," Dean chuckles.

"(Y/N)," Amber says as she runs over to you.

"Here," you tell her and you take the paper towels from her before helping her to wipe the sticky mess off of both of her little hands. "Honey, you do know that I wasn't mad at you, right?" you ask her. "I was just scared that you were hurt and it made me grumpy."

"I know," Amber smiles. "You must be scared that I'm going to get hurt all of the time then because you're grumpy a lot." Dean snorts trying to hold in a laugh.

"That will be enough out of you," you say and you turn your head a bit so that you're looking over your shoulder at him.

"Sorry," Dean chuckles. You roll your eyes and pull Amber up into your lap, holding tightly onto her as the both of you talk about anything and everything. "I think that someone's giving out on us," Dean chuckles as he nods down to where Amber is lying limp in your arms.

"I think so," you smile as you go to stand up out of your chair.

"Let me take her, sweetheart," Dean tells you. "Doctor's orders," he smiles when he sees that you're going to protest. You nod and Dean smiles as he bends down to take your niece out of your arms.

"That was sort of fun even if I was uptight most of the time," you tell Dean as he pulls up beside of your car in the hospital parking lot.

"Yeah," Dean smiles as you get out of his car and open up the door to get Amber. Dean hops out and walks around to help you, carefully taking Amber out of your arms and holding tightly onto her. Dean walks over to your car and you stand by as he straps Amber into her seat. Dean shuts the door to your can before turning around to face you once more.

"Thanks," you tell him softly. "I guess that I needed that to calm down."

"No problem," Dean smiles as he shoves his hands into his pockets. "It was doctor's orders." You laugh and you nod your head a bit at Dean. "But we might want to do a follow up just to be sure."

You bite your lip trying to keep yourself from smiling at the dork. "Oh?" you ask him.

"Yeah," Dean smiles. "How about tomorrow? Same time, different place?" "I think that I'm free but I might need a doctor's excuse," you smile. "Where do you want me to meet you at?"

"How about I give you my number and you can text me your address?"

"Oh, you make house calls?" you ask him.

Dean drops his head and you can see shoulders move as he chuckles. Dean brings his head up once more to look at you. "I make exceptions."

"Good," you laugh. "Is there anything other orders that the doctor needs to give me?"

"Nope," Dean grins. "Well, actually, there is one little thing that you might need to hold you over."

"What's that?" you ask him.

Dean just smiles at you as he leans in to take your face between both of his hands. Your breath catches in your throat as Dean leans in to press his lips firmly to yours. Your body practically melts in Dean's hold as his lips move against yours. Dean slowly pulls away with a smile on his face and he looks you in the eyes.

"A goodnight kiss," he breathes out softly. "How are you feeling now?"

"Like I might need a little bit more to hold me over," you say and Dean chuckles as he leans in once more.

"How's that?" he asks.

"Mmm. Maybe one more?"

"Don't want to overdose, sweetheart."

"Dork," you giggle. Dean winks at you before turning to walk away. "Hey, Dean?"

"Hm?" Dean asks as he turns around to face you once more.

"Thanks for taking care of my niece for me today," you tell him.

"No problem, sweetheart," Dean shrugs. "Just doing my job."

You nod and turn to get in your car. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Dean nods and he gives you a wide smile. "See ya tomorrow, sweetheart."

Tags: @polina-93 @campingmonkey @justanotherwinchester @squirrelnotsam @adoptdontshoppets @imaginationisgrowth @deanwanddamons @hobby27​ @cookiechipdough​ @akshi8278​ @flamencodiva​ @torn-and-frayed​ @thatmotleygirl​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @lyarr24​

[melanielocke]

Lost in the Shadows - Chapter 29

AO3

Taglist: @alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @justanormaldemon @styxdrawings @ipromiseiwillwrite @a-dream-dirty-and-bruised @alastair-appreciation-month

Previous Chapter: Chapter 28

Next Chapter: Chapter 30

The drive to Inverness was long and uncomfortable. Will was driving his car, with Gideon in the passenger seat and Cordelia, Lucie and Tessa pressed in the back. It was a small car, and the three of them in the back only just fit, with Lucie pressed against Cordelia. Not that she minded that exactly, and Lucie didn’t seem to either. Cordelia concluded her hips were too wide for this seat, little to be done about that.

Lucie tried to distract everyone by telling them about one of her stories, but even Lucie couldn’t hide how nervous she was, and got confused halfway through the story several times. Cordelia knew that rarely happened, Lucie could keep track of pretty much everything she wrote. Every once in a while Tessa scolded her husband for going over the speed limit, to which Will replied that they were in a hurry.

When Lucie was done with her stories, they began to discuss strategy instead. Who would approach Tatiana first, how would they fight her, how to make sure she didn’t escape using dark magic?

‘If she escapes into the land in between, I can follow her,’ Lucie said. ‘And the spell needs to be finished in this world, not the land in between. That’s what Jesse said. So if she escapes into the land in between, and we keep her occupied there so she can’t get out in time, then she’ll miss the window of opportunity.’

Time moved differently in the land in between, and almost always returning from there meant more time had passed in this world. If Tatiana fled into the land in between at the last moment, she would not make it back in time and that would win them at least a day.

‘We’ll need to stop her from speaking too,’ Lucie said. ‘Do we have any tape?’

Cordelia at some point fell asleep during the trip, she must have been more tired than she thought. She woke up when the car stopped. They were on a parking lot in what seemed like the middle of a city.

Cordelia got out of the car, and walked around a bit, trying to get the stiffness out of her body. She practiced some of her movements, without the sword for now as she didn’t want to draw unwanted attention. While Lucie’s parents and Gideon were looking around for the best way into the hotel, Lucie joined her, stretching too.

‘My butt hurts,’ Lucie said. ‘I am not taking the middle seat on the way back.’

The middle seat of Will’s car was a bit harder than the rest so Cordelia could imagine why Lucie might prefer not to sit there.

‘I think you’re the only one who fits there,’ Cordelia said.

Lucie was the shortest, both Cordelia and Lucie’s mother were quite tall and had long legs. Lucie was probably also the only with hips narrow enough to fit there.

‘Fair point,’ Lucie said. ‘Before we go in, I’ve been meaning to tell you something.’

Cordelia frowned, she wasn’t sure this sounded good. As if Lucie was about to confess something bad.

‘I know you probably don’t feel the same way, but I guess if something goes wrong today, I would rather you knew. I’m in love with you. I didn’t realize until recently, but I guess I’ve loved your for years.’

It was not what Cordelia had been expecting. Even if Alastair had told her Lucie probably liked her. Even if it was what she’d been longing to hear.

‘I do feel the same way,’ Cordelia said. ‘I only realized about a week ago, but I do like you too. I just never thought you’d feel that way about me. Or well, Alastair did but I think I was scared.’

Lucie’s eyes went wide, he cheeks turned a rosy pink. ‘Alastair knew?’

‘He read some pages from the beautiful Cordelia and he did not know how else to explain it,’ Cordelia admitted. ‘I just didn’t dare believe.’

‘I think for most of the time while writing it, I didn’t realize it myself either. But I always thought you were so beautiful and brave. I just had not yet considered I might love girls. Can I kiss you for good luck before we go in?’

‘Does that work?’ Cordelia asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Lucie said. ‘In stories it happens sometimes. It makes for romantic scenes, but often I’d expect the main characters or at least the main couple to survive. But when it’s real life, it might just all go to hell and this could be our last chance.’

‘It won’t be your last chance,’ Cordelia said. ‘You have too many stories you have to finish.’

Lucie laughed. ‘If I can’t die while I have an unfinished story I’ll probably live forever.’

Cordelia put her arm around Lucie’s waist, pulling her closer, and kissed her on the lips. She’d only kissed one other person before, which had been Lucie’s brother James. While he was not a bad kisser, it was different. Lucie’s lips were softer and tasted off her lipstick, and she was shorter than Cordelia so she had to bend down a little.

‘Oh, you have a little smear,’ Cordelia said when they broke apart. ‘Your lipstick.’

Lucie started laughing. ‘Probably. But I feel like I can face Tatiana with smudged lipstick. I understand now why they do good luck kisses. This worked.’

Cordelia had to agree. She felt better, more confident. At least she’d told Lucie. At least now they both knew how they felt about each other.

‘Let’s try it again,’ Cordelia said.

After several more kisses, Lucie’s parents still weren’t back, and Cordelia decided to call her brother. She wanted to tell him he was right and Lucie was in love with her, and she wanted to tell him she’d arrived in Inverness safely. When he didn’t answer his phone, Cordelia called Jem instead, to let them know they had arrived at least.

‘Is Alastair there?’ Cordelia asked. ‘I’d hoped I could speak to him.’

‘I’m on my way to the cottage right now, but I can give him your phone as soon as I arrive. How are you doing?’

‘I think we’ll be confronting Tatiana as soon as we can,’ Cordelia said. ‘Is everything alright there? How’s Alastair?’

‘Tired and stressed out,’ Jem said. ‘But he’s coping as well as he can. I’m surprised he’s doing so well, to be honest, but I find Alastair can be very hard to read. He always seems to be hiding how he really feels, and contrary to popular belief I cannot read minds.’

Cordelia had to agree, for a long time Alastair had hidden all of his feelings, his relationship, what Father really was like. She’d always sort of suspected he hid things from her, but could never have guessed the extent. Even now, the habit of hiding was difficult to break, and sometimes Cordelia still found herself trying to hammer down his walls.

‘And Thomas?’

‘No improvement, but he’s not getting worse either. Sophie and Alastair helped him go back to bed and he’s sleeping again. I’ve arrived, I can give you Alastair.’

‘Why didn’t you pick up your phone?’ Cordelia asked as soon as she’d confirmed he had the phone.

‘I can’t find it,’ Alastair said. ‘I think I left it in my bedroom, but I don’t want to leave Thomas to look for it. Did you make it to Inverness?’

‘Yes, we’re there now,’ Cordelia said. ‘You were right, by the way, about Lucie.’

‘About what exactly?’ Alastair asked.

‘That she likes me,’ Cordelia clarified. ‘Which was nice to figure out before we potentially die.’

‘You’re not going to die, Layla,’ Alastair said. ‘Have faith in yourself. I know you can do this. Good luck.’

‘To you too, dâdâsh,’ Cordelia said.

Cordelia put away her phone when Will, Tessa and Gideon came back, arguing, Will and Tessa both gesturing wildly. Gideon looked tired most of all, and didn’t participate in the argument as much.

‘Why do I have to be the decoy?’ Will asked. ‘Why can’t I go up there myself?’

Tessa sighed. ‘Because you’re best suited for the job.’

Will smiled. ‘Oh, tell me why then.’

‘Because you’re the best chance we have at charming an old woman receptionist,’ Tessa said. ‘Gideon’s too awkward and I’m not sure she’s interested in women.’

‘Thank you,’ Gideon said drily.

Will grinned. ‘Oh, I will charm her. I will charm her with such force she’ll be lying on the floor trying to remember her own name.’

Lucie looked mortified, Cordelia started laughing, picturing the scenario in her head of Will trying to flirt with the receptionist.

‘I actually did that once,’ Will said. ‘Jem and I needed to break into another hotel where someone had trapped a couple of fairies.’

Fairies, as Cordelia knew it, lived in the woods and tended to be small. They could get up to mischief, but weren’t dangerous. Part of what Will and Jem used to do was also protect creatures like that from humans who intended to harm them, and it was an important part of what Cordelia wanted to be like. She knew some of her ancestors had only focused on protecting humans, and killed indiscriminately, and she was determined to do better.

‘Ah, good old times,’ Will said. ‘The old lady didn’t know what hit her, and Jem had every chance to sneak inside and break out those poor fairies.’

‘So, do that again,’ Tessa said. ‘We can’t all go in at the same time, it’ll draw too much attention. Lucie, you’re with me. We won’t draw too much attention together. Cordelia, you can’t wait for too long after that. You go in alone. If you get caught, pretend you were looking for a bathroom. Otherwise, pretend you belong.’

Cordelia guessed she was bound to attract the most attention either way with how she looked, but there was nothing to be done about that.

She waited outside with Gideon while Will, Tessa and Lucie went inside. Gideon looked weary, and anxious. She understood how difficult it was for him, if it were Alastair who’d gone down such a path she would keep hoping for far longer than she should. She couldn’t imagine what it was like, to watch a sibling lose themselves and become evil and be able to do nothing. Because Tatiana had shut everyone out. So while Cordelia acknowledged her pain, she also believed Tatiana had had a hand in digging her own grave, by allowing revenge and hatred to consume her rather than seeking support from her brothers who would have welcomed her back any time.

‘Go,’ Gideon said, as he looked in through the window, while looking through his phone.

Cordelia suspected he wasn’t actually looking or reading anything as he was holding his phone upside down, it just made him look less out of place. The lobby of the hotel was nice enough. Nothing fancy, it was the kind of hotel most people could afford, but everything looked clean. Of course, the real place the judge the cleanliness of a hotel was the bathroom, but Cordelia had no reason to go there.

Will was chatting up the receptionist, who was a little older than he was, but not an old woman either. From a distance, she overheard him asking questions about the city, exaggerating his Welsh accent to show he was not from around here, but was not an Englishman either.

The receptionist’s attention was on Will, and Cordelia tried her best to act natural as she walked past her and into the corridor. A little farther, Tessa and Lucie were waiting. Both acted casual, as if they were supposed to be there.

‘I’ve texted Will,’ Tessa said. ‘He’s the getaway driver in this plan, and if we’re in trouble, someone should text him or call him or whatever works in the situation and he’ll drive the car front.’

‘He’s probably not too happy about that,’ Cordelia said.

‘But he won’t be able to get himself inside without drawing attention, and he has the car keys,’ Tessa said.

Cordelia suspected Tessa also knew Will was likely to antagonize Tatiana even further, whereas she and Gideon might have a chance to calm her down. She clutched her necklace, ready to take cortana into her hand the moment they stepped into Tatiana’s room. When Gideon joined them, the four went looking for the room number Jesse had given them.

‘Nine hours until midnight,’ Tessa said.

Gideon nodded, shaking on his knees. Had he said goodbye to Thomas, Cordelia wondered? Would he be able to live with himself if Thomas died and he was here and not with him? Thomas would undoubtedly claim it was fine, as he always did. He and Alastair were alike in that manner, although Alastair was a bit more convincing when he pretended to be fine. But perhaps Thomas would want his father to be with him as he died.

‘She should be in here,’ Lucie said, pulling on the door. ‘Locked.’

‘Let me,’ Cordelia said, cortana in hand.

With a single motion she cut her way through the lock, opening the door and revealing Tatiana, who was dressed in old fashioned dark brown clothes, and looked like she hadn’t slept in a couple of days.

She was startled by their presence, but recollected herself quickly, grabbing a dagger and holding it in front of her.

‘How did you find me,’ she hissed.

‘You have to stop, Tatiana,’ Gideon said, putting his hands in front of him. ‘I can’t imagine how hard it was to lose your son, but that does not justify killing others to bring him back.’

‘No, you can’t imagine. I would do anything for my child. You could never understand such a thing, and that’s why Jesse will live and Thomas will die. Turn back, or I’ll kill you too.’

Cordelia took a step forward, cortana in hand and ready to attack if necessary. The sword had one dull edge, a chance for mercy, and an edge so sharp it would cut through anything. She didn’t have to kill Tatiana, but she would stop her.

‘Last chance, surrender,’ Cordelia hissed. ‘You lost your siren, you can’t win.’

Tatiana laughed. ‘Oh, can I? Good luck finding your way home, Carstairs.’

Before Cordelia knew for sure what was happening, she found herself in a forest. Not just in a forest, in the air between the trees and falling fast. Cordelia grabbed onto a branch of a nearby tree before she could fall any faster, pulled herself up and secured her position before scouting where she was. Tessa had gotten lucky, she fell onto a branch a bit lower, but had found a relatively easy route down to the ground.

Gideon wasn’t so lucky, he did crash into the tree before making his way to the ground, yelling in pain. Cordelia couldn’t tell from here if he was alright, but at least the tree had broken his fall somewhat. She was too high up to jump down without hurting herself, and in a difficult position to climb. She didn’t see Lucie anywhere.

She felt the branch creaking under her weight, and she slowly moved closer to the tree’s stem. There was another, thicker branch below her, but making it down would not be an easy exercise. She was trained in climbing, of course, otherwise she would have gotten stuck like a cat in there, or she’d fallen all the way down. But she was also heavy and most trees couldn’t hold her weight. She was a little out of practice, and right now that could be dangerous.

She hung down from the branch she was currently sitting on, hands twisted together above while hanging underneath. She could find the branch underneath her with her feet, and found some stability. From here it would be easier to get down, but she’d have to lower herself onto the branch first. She moved her grip from the branch above to the stem of the tree, carefully balancing herself until she was sitting on the branch. She let out a breath she’d held on to all that time when she was in a secure position. Now to make her way down. The branches were closer together, and she could get a little lower, and then she’d have to jump.

Beneath her, Tessa had fallen as well, but she’d made her way to her feet and seemed unharmed. Gideon, she wasn’t so sure about. Tessa was bent over him. Cordelia returned her focus to the tree, making her way to a lower branch, and putting her foot even lower. From here she could climb down until she was hanging about half a meter above the ground, from which she dropped, bending her knees to absorb the impact.

She ran over to Gideon and Tessa. ‘Are you alright?’ she asked.

‘I am,’ Tessa said. ‘A few scrapes and bruises, that’s all. Gideon has a broken arm. It needs support, but I’m not sure how.’

Cordelia undid the cardigan she’d tied around her waist, thankfully she’d forgotten to take it off. ‘Can you use this?’

Tessa sighed. ‘It’ll do, I guess. Where are we?’

‘The land in between. Where’s Lucie?’

‘I haven’t seen her. Lucie!’ Tessa yelled.

Cordelia also called her name. No response. Where was she? Cordelia suspected the three of them were in the land in between. The only time they’d escaped that place without Lucie’s magic was after killing the werewolf, which would mean walking until they made their way back into the real world. If that were even possible, they might very well be trapped.

‘I don’t think Lucie came here with us,’ Cordelia said.

***

Thomas slept most of the day, and Alastair made sure to be there with him whenever he woke. That became less and less frequent though, and Alastair was growing worried. Just after Thomas had gone back to sleep, a car pulled into the driveway. Who would be coming here?

Sophie opened the door to three young women. Of course, Thomas’ sisters were coming. Two of the girls had the same brown hair Thomas had, one a bit softer and rounder while the other was shorter and had more angular features. The third woman was Indian and Alastair remembered Thomas’ sister Eugenia had returned to India with her friend, and this had to be her.

‘We came as quickly as we could,’ Eugenia said. ‘Babs flew to Edinburgh this morning. Where’s Tommy?’

‘He’s sleeping,’ Sophie said. ‘You can check on him in his bedroom, but I think it’s best to let him rest and wait until he wakes up.’

Thomas’ two sisters left for his bedroom, while the Indian girl sat down on the couch next to Alastair. He’d been trying to read one of the family’s journals, but couldn’t concentrate. Not with the horrible knot in his stomach caused by worry.

‘You are Thomas’ boyfriend, aren’t you?’ the girl asked.

Alastair looked up from his work. He didn’t know who she was. He didn’t even know if she knew anything about what was going on. On the other hand, why would Thomas’ sister have brought her if she did not understand what was going on.

‘My name is Alastair Carstairs,’ he said.

‘Kamala Joshi,’ she said. ‘I’m Eugenia’s girlfriend.’

‘Right. I imagine Eugenia must have been worried,’ Alastair said.

He felt like he eased into the conversation a little. It wasn’t as stiff and forced as conversation usually felt for him.

‘We’d just returned from India when Eugenia received the call. She was very upset no one had told her about her brother being in danger sooner. But as I understand, your communication was cut off, was it not?’

��What do you know of what’s going on?’ Alastair asked.

‘What Eugenia told me,’ Kamala said. ‘Something about her crazy aunt, a dark realm, and a deal with a creature that could bring back her dead son. I can’t say I understand everything. I’ve mostly tried to stay away from everything supernatural.’

‘But you do know,’ Alastair said.

‘A monster killed my parents,’ Kamala said. ‘I never found out what it was, but ever since, my eyes have been opened. At least somewhat, I can’t see the way Thomas or Barbara can. But when I first came to England, I rescued a fairy in the park from group of older boys who’d somehow seen her. It’s easier for children, I think, even without the sight. The fairy blessed me with a healing power. It’s minor, mostly I can heal injuries. I can’t cure complex diseases or anything like that. But it’s helpful, and Genie hoped I could help with healing Thomas.’

Alastair gazed down. ‘I don’t think so. His life is tied to someone else’s. If his cousin is brought to life, he’ll die, no amount of healing can save him then. On the bright side though, my sister is fighting Thomas’ crazy aunt right now. I am sorry about your parents.’

‘It was a long time ago,’ Kamala said. ‘I was six when it happened, seven when I was given my powers.’

Thomas’ sisters joined the two of them. They both greatly resembled Thomas, Alastair thought, and each other. He wasn’t sure which was which until the shorter, angular girl put her arm around Kamala. That had to be Eugenia.

‘Thomas is still asleep, I take?’ Alastair asked.

‘Yes,’ Barbara said. ‘He has a high fever, and I think he needs lots of rest. Much like when he was a child.’

Barbara soon turned her attention to Jem discussing something Alastair did not have the medical knowledge to follow. Barbara was a nurse, he remembered. She seemed knowledgeable at least.

‘So,’ Eugenia said, turning her attention to Alastair, ‘what do you want with my brother?’

Alastair was taken back, and it took a few moments to be able to formulate an answer, to push the words across his lips. Thomas had told him Eugenia could be fierce and both his sisters were very protective.

‘Genie, don’t be rude!’ Sophie called.

‘Right now, I want to save him,’ Alastair said.

***

Thomas woke up to find both his sisters sitting on chairs next to his bed. No. Oh no, what were they doing here?

‘Go home,’ Thomas said as he tried to sit up. He couldn’t. ‘Please.’

‘No,’ Eugenia said and Thomas cursed the stubbornness that plagued their family. ‘You’re in trouble, and we’re here to help. Kamala is here too, and she could use her magic on you, maybe that’ll heal you.’

‘Probably not,’ Thomas said. ‘It’s Tatiana.’

‘That’s where everyone else went, isn’t it?’ Barbara asked. ‘Dad went with uncle Will and aunt Tessa to confront her.’

‘And Lucie and Cordelia,’ Thomas confirmed. ‘Who are probably the most essential part of the plan. Lucie can command the dead and open gateways and Cordelia has a magic sword. They’re going to save me. Hopefully.’

Thomas hated that he couldn’t be of more help, that he was lying here in bed unable to do so much as get up. He’d slept most of the day, only waking up every once in a while and sometimes he feared he wouldn’t wake up at all.

‘Don’t lose faith, Tommy,’ Barbara said, stroking her thumb over his cheek. ‘You’re going to be alright. How are you feeling?’

‘Tired. Cold. Everything hurts. I shiver a lot. Like, actual, uncontrollable shaking.’

Barbara frowned. ‘Are you sure we don’t need to take you to a hospital? It sounds like you might have sepsis.’

‘It’s not that,’ Thomas said. ‘It’s the thief, Tatiana’s ritual. No amount of antibiotics can save me. Tatiana must be stopped.’

Thomas tried to stay awake for as long as he could, talking to his sisters, and later Alastair who came to join them. He was glad Alastair seemed to be getting along with both his sisters, even if Eugenia had been a little rude to him at first. Of course, he’d expected nothing less from her.

In the end he had no choice but to go back to sleep though. His eyes were falling shut, and Alastair, Barbara and Eugenia all noticed he couldn’t stay awake anymore.

‘Sweet dreams, nooré chesm-am,’ Alastair whispered in his ear before kissing him on the cheek. ‘Please wake up again.’

***

Eight in the evening. Sophie had tried to get Thomas to eat and drink a bit more, but he had not woken again. Alastair finally decided to try and wake him up. Nothing. Calling his name didn’t do a thing, nor did pulling on his shoulders. Perhaps he was in a deep sleep. Alastair could not quite convince himself. They quietly ate some of Sophie’s soup, but Alastair couldn’t take more than a few spoons. He felt tense and sick in his stomach. He needed to know Thomas was going to be alright, if Cordelia was doing well, if she was even alive.

Nine. Still no word from Cordelia, from any of them. Alastair had tried calling all of them. The only one who consistently picked up was Will as he’d been made the getaway driver. He’d been waiting outside for hours. He’d gone in and found everyone gone, confirming Alastair’s suspicions they’d gone into the land in between. He’d asked Will to call him as soon as he heard anything.

‘I’m going to check on him,’ Alastair said.

Thomas was still breathing when Alastair entered his bedroom. He was in a deep sleep, and Alastair couldn’t wake him up. He even threw the glass of water standing on his nightstand over his face. Nothing. Alastair grabbed a towel to dry him off, unable to leave him like this. No response.

Alastair blinked away some tears. ‘Don’t you dare die on me, Tom.’

A pause. Determination. ‘You’re not going to die tonight.’

Alastair returned to the living room. ‘He’s still sleeping. I don’t think he’s going to wake up. I need some air.’

Alastair went outside, but it wasn’t because he needed air. It had been too long. Cordelia was missing, something had gone wrong. If they’d stopped Tatiana, she would have let him now and they’d gone in hours ago. There was no way the fight could have taken this long, even if they’d gone into the land in between. Not to mention Tatiana could easily escape from there and finish the ritual.

Alastair felt as if he wasn’t inside his body anymore, as if he weren’t really alive. A terrible numbness at the thought that his sister was gone, that she’d failed. Perhaps she wasn’t dead, he told himself. Perhaps she was simply trapped in the land in between and time was passing much faster here for him. If that were the case, only Lucie could bring them back and he had no clue how long they had, if Tatiana was stopped, if Thomas was going to live.

He knew what ritual Gideon and his brother had interrupted all these years ago. With the knowledge from the Carstairs’ journals and the memory, Alastair had been able to piece it together and figure out how to summon the thief of souls.

He drew the circle and symbols in the sand. It wasn’t difficult. Just an incantation. He might have messed up the pronunciation of the words here and there, but he repeated the words Benedict Lightwood had said so long ago.

The thief appeared in the middle of the circle like demons often did.

‘Welcome to my circle, thief of souls,’ Alastair said. ‘I want to make a deal.’

[sapphirelass]

Two Peas in a Pod - Harry PotterxSister!Reader

Please note:

1: I don’t own any of the gifs used, nor any already established characters, so credit to the authors and original creators - You have done a phenomenal job :)

2: English is not my native language, as I was born and raised in Sweden. I have, however, studied English for almost a decade, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem, I just thought I’d let you know ;)

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

For this one-shot I have taken inspiration from both the book and the film, as well as left out parts of the original dialogue that, for the purpose of this story, felt irrelevant.

Word count: ≈ 2400

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

You probably already knew this, but still XD

(Y/N) - Your name

(Y/N/N) - Your nickname

(Y/H/C) - Your hair colour

(Y/H/L) - Your hair length

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Two Peas in a Pod

Harry Potter and his twin sister (Y/N) were like two peas in a pod. Always had been. Supposedly, that was what happened when young magicians had to grow up with muggles, especially if those muggles were named “Dursley”. Harry was always more impulsive, whereas (Y/N) took on the role of the rational one, yet they had both been placed in Gryffindor house by the sorting hat four years prior.

It was now the first of September 1995, and last year had been a rough one. Lord Voldemort, the dark wizard who had killed Harry and (Y/N)’s parents, had just come back and despite their efforts, this holiday had been more miserable than any of the previous ones. Dudley and his friends, dementor attacks, and a general lack of communication with the wizarding world left the twins in a particularly bad mood. They arrived at Kings Cross, and after pulling Harry away from Draco Malfoy, (Y/N), her brother, Ron and Hermione boarded the Hogwarts express, and found a place to sit.

During the start-of-the-year feast, the small group of friends quickly realized that something was wrong. Their new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor - Dolores Umbridge - was a ministry employe, which was weird on its own, but the way she spoke, acted, and kept interrupting Dumbledore with shrill, irritating *hum hum*’s made them all feel queasy.

After a quiet discussion in the common room (and quite a bit of loud arguing between Harry and Seamus Finnigan), they went to bed, yawning, and not exactly looking forward to that year’s first period of DADA.

***

They entered the classroom, and to their surprise, Umbridge actually wasn’t there yet. Harry and (Y/N) shared a confused look, but went to sit down, Harry with Ron, and (Y/N) with Hermione. Eventually though, the professor did arrive, her unnaturally high-pitched voice bringing them all back to reality.

“Good morning, class!” she said cheerfully

There was a quiet murmur among the students, and Umbridge shook her head.

“Good Morning!” she said again, this time more sternly. “I expect you to answer me when spoken to.”

A slightly louder “Good morning professor” could be heard, and though Umbridge didn’t seem too pleased, she decided to move on with the lesson.

“Ordinary Wizarding Levels - OWLs” she started. “Your previous teachers in this subject have all been quite questionable choices, however this year things will be the way they were meant to. Open your books on page 4.”

A few minutes had passed before Hermione raised her hand and said “Professor, there is nothing in here about using defensive spells.”

“Using spells?” Umbridge asked, laughing nastily

“We’re not to use magic?” Ron asked

“You will be learning defensive magic in a safe, risk-free environment”

“But”, said Harry, rather angrily, “what good would that do? If we were attacked that wouldn’t be risk-free!”

“Ha!”, laughed Umbridge, “And who exactly do you think would want to attack a helpless child such as yourself? Besides, the education you will receive will be more than enough for you to pass your OWLs, and that is after all just what school is about.” She finished with a smirk, looking rather satisfied with her speech.

(Y/N), who had sat quietly this whole time shifted slightly in her chair, and exclaimed: “It’s not though!

“Sorry?” Umbridge asked, dumbfounded

“School isn’t solely about receiving good grades! It’s about preparing the students for life, and supplying them with the tools and knowledge necessary in order to succeed and improve. If we’re not going to do that, then why, may I ask, is this a mandatory course? It’s already starting to seem rather pointless to me.”

Harry was perplexed. How his sister always managed to, 1: use her words in such a remarkable way, and 2: remain calm through the most infuriating of situations was a mystery to him, however he turned his gaze back towards Umbridge, waiting for her reply.

“Nonsense” She said. “This course is compulsory, and rightfully so!”

“How though?” Inquired (Y/N), pushing it further than she probably should have. “Can you name any situation, apart from the exam, where your teachings will be of any help to us? Or didn’t the ministry consider that?”

That was the top of the iceberg.

“DETENTION!!” shouted Umbridge. “My office, 8:30 would you be so kind, Ms Potter.”

(Y/N) flinched. She wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, however detention was not something she had to endure very often. That was more Harry’s thing. She sank quietly back onto her chair, and Umbridge continued with her boring, unnecessary lesson, reciting facts and procedures they had all learnt about 4 years earlier. (Y/N) could feel her brother staring, practically burning a hole in her neck, but somehow, probably thanks to Ron, he kept quiet for the rest of the class.

An hour later, class ended and none of the Gryffindor students wasted any time getting out of Umbridge’s classroom. (Y/N) threw her stuff into her brown, leather bag and dashed out of the room without making eye contact with her brother or friends.

“(Y/N/N)!” Harry shouted. “Wait up!”

He caught up with his sister on the stairs leading down to McGonagall’s classroom.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Looking up at him with an annoyed stare she said “Yes Harry! Just brilliant!” with a sarcastic tone in her voice. She kept on walking, but Harry grabbed her shoulder. A few years ago, they had been roughly the same size, but Harry had grown A LOT, and was by now almost seven inches taller. All the quidditch training had apparently paid off too, and (Y/N) knew instantly that she would never be able to escape his firm, yet gentle grip. He glanced down on her with a worried look on his face.

“I’m serious!” he said. “Stop”

She turned around and faced him. “What?” She spat at him, suddenly noticing her icy voice.

“Sorry…” (Y/N) mumbled, “she just pissed me off. I’m fine.” Her facial expression softened and she met Harry’s eyes for the first time since class ended. He let go of her shoulders, and was just about to say something when a tall ginger came running at full speed and gave (Y/N) a supportive pat on the back.

“That was bloody brilliant!” Ron exclaimed. “(Y/N), did you see the look on her face? Bloody hell, she was angrier than Malfoy after Harry beat him in his first quidditch match!”

“Yes” stated (Y/N) simply, as Hermione made her way down the stairs, “I saw…”

“Oh cheer up!” stated Ron, “an hour or two of detention isn’t the end of the world. If you ask me, it was totally worth it!”

Hermione gave him a disapproving stare as (Y/N) sadly stated, “It might not have been the cleverest thing to do” Both Harry and Hermione blinked at her with a sort of “you-don’t-say?” kind of look as she kept on speaking. “But you must admit that it’s the truth? Defence against the dark arts has never been as important as it is right now. We are all going to die before the end of the year unless we learn and improve?!”

“You’re right.” Hermione muttered, and surprisingly, she smiled slightly. “But we’ll have to talk about that later, otherwise we’ll be late for transfiguration. Come on!”

***

The rest of the day went by rather quickly, and the quartet soon found themselves in front of the fireplace in the common room. It was about 8:20 when (Y/N) stood up, grabbed a jacket, and left for Umbridge’s office.

“Good luck!” Harry said, frowning deeply, “I’ll wait for you here.”

(Y/N) turned around quickly, “Haz, you don’t have to. I’ll be fine. You need your sleep and I have no idea how long this is going to take.”

Harry gave her a sort or irritated look, to which she sighed and left without a word.

“What do you think she’ll have her do?” Hermione questioned.

“I don’t know” Harry hissed, “but I’m sure she’ll tell me when she gets back...”

The remaining three looked at each other. Ron threw Harry a chocolate frog, and then - they waited…

***

*knock knock*

There was a slight clinking noise, like metal on china, followed by a repulsing “come in”. (Y/N) took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

“Ah!” chirped Umbridge, “Potter, sit down, will you?”

(Y/N) apprehensively made her way across the room to the chair her so-called “professor” had pointed at. She sat down and looked around nervously.

“You will be writing some sentences for me today, no” Umbridge said, as (Y/N) reached down to her bag to pick up something to write with. “no, not with your own quill. You’ll be using a rather special one of mine.” She smiled evilly, and pushed a black, pointy feather across the table.

(Y/N) grabbed it carefully and asked in a silent, trembling voice, “what should I write?”

“Oh, right! How about… ‘I must obey my superiors’?”

***

It was about three hours later, when (Y/N) slowly made her way back to the common room, red, hot blood dripping from her left hand leaving a small trail through the corridor. The pain had intensified, and was by this point almost unbearable. She took a quick detour to the girls’ bathroom, hoping to be able to clean herself up a bit before having to face her friends and brother. She had told him to go to sleep, after all, it was almost midnight by now, but she knew him all too well. The odds of him being in bed were absolutely zero.

She watched the thick, red liquid disappear down the sink and let a few tears fall, before grabbing some paper making sure no tears or blood could be seen. She had to make it through the common room up to the dormitories quickly though, since she was sure Harry would be able to tell she’d been crying, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. Sure, she could just tell him, but something inside her argued against that. He had been rather angry and distressed all summer, and she knew he wasn’t feeling much better now. Harry had enough to deal with without handling her problems too.

Entering the common room, roughly four seconds had passed before her brother was by her side.

“Hey,” he said gently, “everything okay?”

She nodded and mumbled a quiet. “Yes. ‘m tired though, night Harry”

She walked the stairs up to her dorm, leaving Harry behind. He simply stood there dumbfounded. What had just happened? “Oh… okay, night (Y/N/N)”

She didn’t answer…

***

The following morning, he found her at the breakfast table, slowly digesting a tiny portion of porridge. She was wearing one of his old quidditch jumpers underneath her cloak. He knew, because it was far too big for her, and the sleeves reached down to her fingertips.

��Hey,” he said, ruffling her (Y/H/L), (Y/H/C) hair, “Feeling better?”

“Sure, “ she murmured, slowly pulling the sleeves even further down. He gave her a supportive hug.

“But come on now, “ he urged her. “You can’t be sad forever. What did she have you do?”

“Nothing…”

“(Y/N/N)!”

“Just write some sentences. It was fine, rather dull to be honest with you.” She threw the spoon into the bowl, and pushed it away. “How are you feeling? Any bad dreams?”

“Always…” he muttered, shaking his head at the milk that had splashed out on the table, “could have been worse though.”

Harry made himself some toast, as Ron and Hermione joined them in the great hall.

***

A week or so later Harry had had enough. It was in defence against the dark arts, on a rather cold Tuesday afternoon that he finally snapped, and shouted at professor Umbridge, who seemed almost too happy for a reason to give him detention.

The gang sat, yet again, around the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, when Harry suddenly left and climbed through the portrait hole. He came back a few hours later, a downright furious look on his face, and walked straight up to his sister without even noticing the ghost he had stumbled through. He looked down at her smaller frame, his quidditch jumper yet again pulled over her head.

“Let me see, ” he said through gritted teeth, causing (Y/N) to look up at him, trying her best to act confused.

“Wha…”

“(Y/N) - let. me. see.” he repeated firmly, his emerald eyes penetrating the mental wall behind which she had been trying so hard to hide her troubles.

She closed her eyes and pulled her sleeve up to her elbow. The blood had naturally dried, however five heart wrenching words were etched into her still red, irritated skin.

I must obey my superiors

No one said a thing. (Y/N) was staring at the floor, not daring to meet her brother’s eyes, all while Harry felt madder than he ever had before.

Madder than when Dudley had been pushing him around the school yard.

Madder than when Malfoy had taunted him because of the dementors.

Madder than when he had found out that his aunt and uncle had lied about their parents true fate for almost 10 years.

This was his sister, and it was far from okay.

Without thinking, Harry was just about to shout at her for keeping something like that from him, when he noticed that she was crying. Soft, quiet sobs that she were clearly trying to hide. It felt as if all his anger simply washed away, and he crouched down and took her hand in his.

Harry’s hand was still covered in blood. He hadn’t had time to clean it, but had instead taken the shortest way to the common room, after realizing what had happened. Raising his right hand, he pulled her closer and felt her lean her head on his chest. They sat like that, arms wrapped around each other, for hours and slowly started drifting off to sleep.

Were they okay? Not at all. Would they be? Absolutely! Because they had each other, and when it really came down to it, that was all they needed, as the Potter twins were just like two peas in a pod.

~ L

Masterlist

[libraryofloveletters]

and the memories of you never wash away

Eddie x Buck, Eddie x Shannon (co-parents/platonic) 

wc: 1.9k 

[AO3 Link]

----

“Eddie! Have you seen the sunscreen?” Shannon's voice carried through the hallway before she found him.

“Did you check the bathroom ?” he glances over his shoulder as he digs through a bin in the closet looking for Christopher's beach ball.

“I found it!” Buck shouts, coming down the hallway.

The 3 of them had decided to take Chris to the beach to start off the summer break. Eddie was still bent over looking for the beach ball when Buck arrived where the two were, his eyes instantly found their way to Eddie’s ass which just happened to look amazing -per usual as Buck happened to think.

Shannon has noticed Buck’s gaze and where it was directed. She nudged him, making a smacking motion with her hand and nodded towards Eddie.

Buck had a mischievous look on his face, taking a step towards Eddie before his hand came down and hit Eddie's ass.

Eddie stood up so fast that Buck didn’t even have time to move from behind him.

“Seriously ?” Eddie’s arms folded, giving his boyfriend an unamused look.

Buck smiling innocently with hands raised, “wasn’t me.”

Eddie shook his head at the blonde before pulling him towards him and pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Okay, can you two stop being in love for a moment so we can get going ?” Shannon calls, bringing the two men back to reality.

Just as she did, the sound of Christopher coming down the hall caught their attention. There were 3 adults in the house and they had all disappeared on him.

“Can we go ?” the boy peered at them from around the corner. “Yeah, come on,” Shannon made her way over to him, leaving the two men in the hallway.

---

The smile on his face was nothing compared to the warmth of the sun. The pure happiness on Christopher’s face was enough to make all 3 of them happy.

Buck and Shannon sat on the blanket, the sun beating down on them- surely enough, they’d both have crazy tan lines by the time they left because of course, no one listens when Eddie says to put on sunscreen.

Eddie, on the other hand, had lathered Chris in sunscreen and managed to rub some on himself before Buck and Shannon had run off with Christopher.

The Diaz boys were now standing in front of the water, Eddie’s arms looped under Christopher’s. The two of them laughed as the water hit their feet. Eddie picked up Chris, swinging him around for a second before putting him back down right as the water rushed up to his feet.

Shannon’s head rested on Buck’s shoulder, smiling at the boys by the water. Buck glances over at her before turning his attention back to the boys, he too had a smile on his face.

“Thank you”

The words came out barely above a whisper, truthfully he had said it internally but somehow it sort of slipped out.

Shannon looks at him, a smile on her face but brows furrowed. “For what ?”

“For being okay with us,” he glances at Eddie.

“Buck, you don’t need to thank me. You make Eddie happy, Christopher too and that’s all I could never hope for.”

Shannon reaches for his hands, smiling at him. “I should be thanking you” the two of them laugh.

Buck gets up, pulling Shannon up with him and the two of them head down to the water where Eddie and Chris are.

“Why are you two all giggly ?” Eddie turns to them, they just smile and shake their heads.

“Nothing babe, just having fun that’s all.”

--

The sun was starting to set, Christopher was getting tired. His eyes drooping, his head on his mother’s lap. Her fingers combed through his brown curls, smiling as he eyes shut.

“Hey,” she whispers, nudging Eddie who was talking to Buck. Both men turned to see the boy asleep. Buck gets up first, taking the keys from Eddie and then leaning down to pick up Chris before making his way to the car.

Both Shannon and Eddie follow him, the blanket in hand. Eddie’s arm is over her shoulder and Shannon’s arm snakes around his waist, the two of them had always been comfortable with one another despite the divorce.

Christopher had woken up when Buck picked him up, he’s now laughing at something Buck said to him.

“I swear, that kid was born happy”

“I have no idea where he gets it from.”

Eddie turns, slightly offended with his brows furrowed. “From me,” his finger gestured towards himself.

“Oh ? From you ? Mr. Broody ?” she jokes, a loud laugh erupting from her.

Eddie pouts, rolling his eyes playfully. “Yeah well hopefully he gets your brains, he can’t get by on my good looks alone” Eddie smiles proudly.

Shannon snorts, she can’t help the laughter. “Good looks my ass, who’s been lying to you, Diaz ?”  

“Oh yeah ?” Eddie’s brows raised, a look of amusement on his face.

“Yeah”

“Isn’t that what attracted you to me?” he asks her, picking her up and tossing her over his shoulder. Her hand smacked his back, “put me down!”

“Answer the question” he keeps walking.

Shannon’s hand reaches down, grabbing his ass and squeezing it. “Nah, it was this ass in those jeans” she laughs once more and Eddie puts her down in front of the car.

“Squeeze my ass again and I’ll fight you.” his finger in her face and Shannon rolls her eyes, sticking her tongue out at him.

Next thing he knew, there was another hand on his ass. Eddie turned so fast, he probably gave himself whiplash. Buck was sitting in the car, the door opened and a smile on his face- proud of the fact that he just grabbed his boyfriend’s ass.

“Again ? Seriously ?”

“Couldn’t help myself. She’s right, your ass does look good in those jeans.”

Eddie shook his head, he could not believe that these were the two he had to deal with on a daily basis but despite all the shit they pulled and the constant bickering, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

When the 4 of them were together, it felt like home. The laughter, the random trips to get ice cream, the 4 of them attempting to all fit into one tent in the backyard- it was moments like that they would treasure forever.

----

He barely heard Buck step into the room, his eyes focused on something in front of him. The footsteps became louder with each step, Buck’s hand on his shoulder.

“Eds?” He glances over his boyfriend's shoulder, the red picture frame from the dresser in his hand.

They had stopped at the gift shop right by the beach during their last trip to the beach. Christopher had picked up the frame and said they should get it, so they did. Eddie and Buck had one in their room, Christopher had one in his and Shannon had the other. It was all the same red frame with seashells and starfish.

They all had the same picture of the 4 of them in it.  

Eddie’s arms were over Christopher’s shoulders while he leant back against his father, Shannon and Buck to either side of him, their arms around him. They were all laughing because a huge wave had come up and hit them right before the photo was taken, resulting in the 4 of them dreached in seawater while smiling for the camera.

It also happened to be the last photo the 4 of them had together before she passed.

Today was the first trip back to the beach since then.

Buck steps from behind Eddie to beside him, it didn’t take long for him to notice the tears welling up in his eyes. He didn’t wait for Eddie to say anything and pulled him into a hug.

“We don’t have to go-” “No, Chris wants too, I'm fine.”

The drive to the beach was quiet. It was already midafternoon, it wasn’t overly warm but it was still kind of sunny out. It was more of a spur of the moment trip rather than a planned one. Christopher was rambling away in the back seat, telling Buck about his plans to build a huge spaceship out of sand and Eddie drove in silence, the occasional smile when Chris was talking but that was about it.

Once they arrive, Eddie follows behind the two boys. They had gotten out first, Chris practically dragged Buck with him to look for a spot to build his spaceship, he shouts for his dad to hurry up who jogs over to them.

Christopher finds a spot a few feet from the water, Buck beside him and Eddie to the other side. Christopher had tasked Buck with digging a hole for the ship to rest in while he started to shovel some into a bucket.

Eddie shifted on the sand, something in his pocket was causing him to sit to one side. Reaching back, he pulls his wallet from his pocket and it somehow opens from the way he pulls it out of his pocket. The two pictures he kept in his wallet were sticking out, before tucking it back in, he decided to pull them out.

The first one was of Christopher, Buck and him from before they started dating. It was the day he officially became part of the 118 - Eddie is standing behind the chair Buck was sitting on and Christopher is standing beside Eddie, the 3 of them laughing at something Chimney was saying when Maddie took the picture.  

The second one, he had forgotten he had because that’s how long it had been in there. A picture from Christopher’s first Christmas - one of those wallet sized ones from the Santa’s workshops they had during the holidays. Chris was wrapped up in a little white blanket with blue snowflakes on it, Shannon was holding him and was sitting beside the guy who was supposedly Santa for the day. Eddie stood beside her, his arm over her shoulder.

His finger rubs across the picture, a smile on his face.

“Dad!” Chris’s voice broke his thoughts, “what are you doing ?” the boy asks his father.

Eddie hands the photo over to Chris, moving a little closer towards him. Chris smiles and looks over at his dad, “is that me?” pointing towards the baby wrapped up in a blanket.

“Yeah, you were so little. Mom insisted on taking you to see Santa.”

Christopher leans over to show Buck, Eddie glances over at his boyfriend who's smiling at his son.

Buck had never been upset about the relationship Shannon and Eddie had. In the past, girlfriends from previous relationships didn’t quite understand her random pop up visits or the fact that she was practically living there at times but it was never like that, Buck and Shannon had become friends and he loved her just as the two boys loved her.

Buck looks up from Chris who was still looking at the picture, he smiles at Eddie.

Buck knew Eddie like the back of his hand and Eddie knew that. Eddie had this idea in his head that he needed to hold himself together and not show any emotions because that’s what dads do, he had to hold himself together for Chris.

So when he saw Eddie on the verge of tears, he didn’t question him, he just comforted him the best way he knew. Eddie would talk when he was ready.

“Dad?”

“Yeah ?”

“Do you miss her ?” the boy set the picture back on his father’s hand. Eddie looked down at the picture once more, he hummed.

“Everyday.”

[reidgraygubler]

a different type of high (spencer reid/reader) pt 4

Title: A Different Type of High (part four)

Request: no

Couple: spencer reid/gender-neutral!reader

Category: angst in the first half, some fluff in the second half

Content Warning: mentions of death, talks about parent death, relapse scare, suicidal ideation, talks about drug usage and drugs, anxiety/panic attacks, explanations of nightmares/night terrors, swearing, intrusive thoughts,

Word Count: 4,514

Summary: Reader nearly relapses because of the anniversary of her mother’s passing. 

A/N: this one does deal with some heavier topics (see CW's), so please proceed with caution. I originally had t his as on big long part, but, uh, it was too long. So it’s two parts… anyways, thank you all for the love and support! check out my masterlist!

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{***}{***}{***}

I sat in the living room with my eyes on the coffee table. Several orange pill bottles sat lined up on the edge. The way the light caught the plastic caught my attention, mostly in a bad way. I was already on edge, and my day was already ruined. Any number of things could have made my day bad, but we can easily put the blame on my mother. And, I’m not just saying that because she’s an easy target. No, I’m blaming her because she died a year ago on this very day.

I was hungry, and not for the food in my fridge. No, I was hungry for the high and the nothingness. The high that was dangerous and could likely kill me. Maybe that’s what I wanted. I mean, the only person I have in life to keep me grounded was Spencer… And we’ve only known each other for a short time. What if he’s faking it all? He doesn’t really care about me. He just says he does. Saying stuff I want to hear.

My body was on autopilot as my hand moved towards the bottles. The grip I had on the lid was tight like my life depended on it. Mostly because, in that moment, my life did depend on it. That was until a slip of paper caught my eyes. An unfamiliar handwriting was scribbled across the paper, but a more familiar name was at the bottom. 

Just because I’m at work doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about you! Please call me if you need help with anything! 

-Spencer

I furrowed my eyebrows as I looked at the note. I have no idea when he would have written it and put it there. But it was the exact sort of pick-me-up I needed to stop me from making a stupid mistake. 

I stood up and shoved the paper and bottle of pills in my pocket before making my way to the door. My keys and a small stack of quarters sat on the side table beside the door, they ended up in my pocket. 

My feet moved themselves, and I soon appeared at the laundromat down the street. There were a few people there, and I could tell they 

hadn’t been there for very long. I just hope my phone call to Spencer wasn’t too long and they didn’t listen. Although, why would they listen to a random girl’s phone call? They don’t care, they won’t care. 

I quickly made my way towards the payphones, going to the furthest one to ensure my own privacy (again, they won’t care). I fished out the quarters as I sat down. It was kind of amazing how quickly I dialed Spencer’s number, and more impressive how fast I remembered it. It was the next number I remembered after my address.

The phone only dialed for a few seconds before he answered. I would have assumed he was busy with work or something. But, I guess, like his note said, even if he was busy, he was thinking about me. I’m pretty sure he was just saying that though.

“Hello, this is Doctor Spencer Reid,” he spoke calmly like he didn’t know what was happening. Well, that was probably because he had no idea I was on the verge of a breakdown. “Hello?”

“It’s… It’s me… Spencer, Spencer, I…” I swallowed roughly as I stared blankly at the wall in front of me. I could feel my heart beating a million miles an hour and hear the beating in my head. It was nearly deafening to me. Being alone didn’t help the anxious feeling. “Are you home?” My voice was a light whisper, and I wondered if he even heard me ask. I don’t even know why I asked if he was at home. I knew he was at work. It’s only 3 pm. Maybe I was just hoping he’d be home, and he could come over and save the day, make me feel better somehow. How though? I’m not sure. Spencer’s a fix-it type of guy, I’m sure he’ll figure something out.

“I’m still at work. But I should be home soon. Why? Is everything okay? Are you okay?” He asked, his voice heavily laced with concern. It was that moment that I realized he did care about me. 

I closed my eyes and brought my hand to rest over my mouth to muffle any sobs. “Are you okay? I need you to talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.” He asked again when I stayed silent. I let out a deep sigh and shook my head, even though he couldn’t see me.

“I, uh, I… I want…” I let out another deep sigh, hoping he’d know what I was getting at. “Please don’t make me say it,” I whispered and looked at the counter. My fingers rapidly tapped against the smooth surface. We both knew I had to say it and admit my defeat and the fact that I was sitting in the laundromat, with a bottle of whatever drug I had hidden in my bathroom. “Fuck,” I shouted before slamming the phone down on the hook. The other few people in the laundromat looked at me with caution in their eyes. 

“What?!” I looked at them before I tightly tugged my sweater around my body before storming out of the laundromat. The pill bottle in my pocket rattled with each step I took, and it was getting very difficult to move without wanting to take anything. Tears sprung from my eyes, blurring my vision the longer I was outside.

When I finally made it back to my apartment, I stormed to the bathroom. My reflection scared me. I almost didn’t recognize myself. It was a little horrifying, seeing myself as so unrecognizable. So, I stared at myself, my hand in my pocket, rattling the contents inside.

I scoffed before shaking my head. My hand came out with the bottle, and my eyes looked down at it. My thumb fidgeted with the lid, wanting to pop it off and pour the contents into my mouth. But, instead, I chucked it to the sink, the lid popping off and pills flying everywhere, before I ran to my bedroom.

I pulled the blankets over my body to hide from the world. Tears were rolling down my cheeks and face and I knew there was nothing I could do to stop it. That’s a shame too… Nearly two months clean and all I wanted to do was not exist and ruin everything.

{***}{***}{***}

I jumped awake when a very loud banging came on the front door. I looked around my room before swinging my legs off my bed and leaving the room. I dragged my body across my apartment and to the front door, where the banging hadn’t stopped.

I pulled the door open and looked up. Spencer was standing there, looking at me with a frantic expression on his face. I stared at him with wide eyes, my earlier fears and anxieties quickly returning. I had nearly forgotten about calling him too. Damn it.

“You didn’t do anything, did you? You didn’t take anything?” He asked, looking down at me. I took a deep breath and shook my head. I stepped to the side and silently invited him inside. He stepped inside and looked back at me, before looking around my home. He was probably looking for any signs of current drug use. The only real sign was in the bathroom… Where the bathroom had a grenade of pills explode all over the place. We’ll just keep him out of there… For now...

“No, no, I didn’t. I swear I didn’t. I, uh... I took a nap and cried it out,”  I rubbed the underside of my nose. I pressed the door shut before turning around to look at him. He was looking at me, he still wore a panicky expression in his eyes and it made me feel sick. He doesn’t believe that I didn’t do anything. I wouldn’t believe me either.

“What happened?” Spencer finally asked as I walked up to him. He opened his arms up and allowed me to hug him. I honestly didn’t want to answer him. Everything about today was already awful, and I just wanted it to be over. “Can you tell me what happened?” He asked after a moment of silence. I let out a deep sigh after he pulled his arms away from me. He noted my deep breath and wrapped his arms back around me. 

I turned my head away from his chest so I could have a coherent sentence. Er, well, as coherent as it could get. “My… It’s the anniversary of… Of my mom's death,” I swallowed roughly. Spencer looked down at me before squeezing me harder. I pressed my face into his chest and shook my head. “And, I just…. Wanted to disappear. I don’t know…” I spoke, my words being muffled into his shirt. One of Spencer’s hands cradled the back of my head while the other held me closer to him. “I didn’t want to be alive at the moment,” I whispered. 

“Don’t say that,” he returned the whisper. His voice vibrated in his chest, and it felt good against my head. The way he squeezed me made me feel safer in the moment. “Please don’t ever say that again,” his voice cracked at the end. I bit my lips together as I started to cry. “Don’t even think like that,” his voice got even lower, probably because he was also crying and he was just trying to mask that fact.

“You don’t get to think that way either,” I looked up at him and furrowed my eyebrows. He looked at me as he remembered when he was gone for a week and how he stood in front of several people with loaded weapons. 

“This isn’t about me… It’s about you,” he whispered, bringing a hand to my face. His thumb brushed away the tears that were rolling down my cheeks, but that was basically useless because I couldn’t stop crying. But it felt good to cry, to be honest. “You’re still young and have so much to live for. Someone has to save you,” he looked down at me, his hand still holding my face. I feared that he was only doing it to make sure I was still here and alive. Which was a weird fear for me to have, and I suppose for him to have. 

“So are you, Spencer,” I whispered as I leaned into his touch more. He swallowed roughly as he kept his eyes on me. His eyes grew glossy the longer he stared at me. “You save everyone… But who saves you from yourself?” I furrowed my eyebrows. Spencer sighed deeply before hugging me again. 

“You do,” his whisper was hardly audible, so I was happy I heard his words. I wasn’t so sure what he meant by that. I mean, obviously, I was the thing that kept him sane while he was home. But, I don’t exactly know how I save him though. So, I was unsure as to why he told me that.  “It’s just been difficult for me recently. But, I’m working on getting better,” he spoke softly. And, I swear he said ‘for you’, but it was so quiet I couldn’t be sure. Even if he did say it, I’m sure I wasn’t supposed to hear it.

We stayed silent for a while, and we just stood in each other’s arms for even longer. Being in his embrace made me feel safe, and I know I said that earlier. But it’s true. I wonder if he felt the same.

“You alright?” Spencer looked up at me. I looked down at our hands and nodded. “You look like you haven’t slept in a couple of days,” he spoke, his tone was soft and gentle. I could tell that he really cared and was trying really hard not to sound mean. I didn’t mean to take it to heart the way I did, but I did.

“Not really,” I grumbled and looked down at the ground. I shrugged and quickly glanced at him. He was looking at me with an apologetic look on his face, silently telling me that he was sorry for suddenly offending me. I shrugged it off like it was nothing. It wouldn’t be the first or last time someone offended me over something so… small and unimportant. He shouldn’t be sorry, it’s my own fault. He was just asking if I was alright.

 “The last few days have been rough for me, ya know? Especially with this whole thing,” I sighed deeply and shrugged again.

“If I stay here, will you promise to get some rest,” Spencer offered, grasping both my hands. I looked at our hands with a dullness in my eyes. I was beginning to zone out because of how tired I was getting. Spencer lifted a hand and gently rubbed my shoulder. I sighed and looked down before looking up at his face.

“I’m having nightmares, and they’re really realistic… That’s why I’m losing sleep,” I whispered. Spencer looked at me before pulling me into a hug. “And they’re about everything. Me, my mom, you, drugs, dying, death… I don’t know,” I mumbled into his chest. I pressed my chin into his chest and looked up at him. Spencer looked down at me with a smile on his lips. We were really close to each other’s face, and I know he noticed that too. “I like when you spend the night,” I noted, changing the subject to something lighter, even though it was that much lighter. 

“Really,” he asked, raising an eyebrow and smiling lightly. I nodded and returned the smile. “Why’s that,”

“Because then I’m not lonely, and left with my thoughts,” I whispered as I stared at him. I’ve never noticed how pretty his eyes are, with their golden and greeny color. He looked at me like he saw something, but I was clueless about what he saw. “And, whenever I’m with you, I feel safe and at home, in some weird way. I’m sorry. I don’t know. The exhaustion is starting to hit me now that you pointed it out,” I sat back away from him. I pressed my hands into my face and shook my head. “I just never sleep anymore and I’m honestly used to it at this point. But I’m tired all the damn time,” 

“I’ll be here, you can rest. You don’t have to worry about anything hurting you,” he whispered before wrapping an arm around my body. I looked up at him and nodded. “Let’s lie down?” he asked softly. I nodded before going to walk to my bedroom. Before I even got the chance to step a foot away from him, Spencer picked me up and carried me. I looked at his face and furrowed my eyebrows. “I’m fully capable of walking, you know,” 

“I know,” Spencer smiled as he readjusted his hold on me. He was carrying me like a backpack, but on his front instead of his back. “But you’re tired,” he hummed as he held me tightly.

“Yeah, I am,” I looked at him with a smile. Spencer laughed at me and shook his head. Our faces were close again, closer than before. And, for some reason, I really wanted to kiss him. Which, again, is weird. He’s my best friend… And I want to fucking kiss him. It just felt like the perfect moment for us to kiss. But, I don’t want to ruin our friendship. I can’t lose the one thing that’s keeping me grounded. And he can’t lose the thing keeping him grounded.

Spencer carefully kicked my bedroom door open and walked in. He laid me down on one side of the bed before going to the other side. The blanket was pulled over both our bodies and Spencer was close to me.

“Please get some sleep,” he whispered, brushing hair away from my face. I looked up at him and nodded. “Do you want me to rub your back?” 

“I knew there was a reason I kept you around,” I laughed before rolling onto my stomach. “My bestest friend ever,” I hummed as he started running his hand along my back.

“Aren’t I your only friend?” Spencer joked lightly.

“Ah, not only that. My bestest friend,” I looked up at him and smiled. Spencer shook his head before brushing his fingers across my eyelids, somehow getting me to close my eyes. 

“Go to sleep,” he whispered. I giggled and nodded before moving closer to him. Spencer returned the laughter before wrapping an arm over me. 

{***}{***}{***}

I wrinkled my nose as I noticed a weight across my body. It wasn’t like an emotional weight like I’ve been so used to waking up to recently. No, there was something actually on top of me while I was asleep. So, when I opened my eyes, I wasn’t too surprised when I saw something on me. However, I was more surprised that it was another person. That’s right, Spencer stayed the night.

His arm was strewn across my torso, and his legs were entwined with mine. His head was resting on the same pillow as me. The way he slept so soundly and restfully made me mildly jealous. How come he gets to sleep so peacefully and I don’t?

I hope he was as peaceful as I thought. There was probably not a bad thing he was dreaming about. Unfortunately for me, I was freaking out because I dreamt that I watched my best friend being killed.

I laid back, pressing my head into the pillow before turning to look at Spencer. His nose twitched as he stirred lightly before hugging me tighter. I held my breath, worried that my breathing would wake up. But, it did. There was no need for worry. He must be having a good dream with all the humming and hugging he was doing. 

I looked at his face, mesmerized by the way he slept so soundly. The way his eyelashes pressed against his cheeks, and freckles dotted the bridge of his nose. His lips pouty and slightly parted. I didn’t even realize he was awake and I was staring till he said something.

“Hey,” he murmured, pulling me closer before nuzzling into me more. I smiled softly as I looked up at him again. “You don’t have to go to the bathroom, do you?” he hummed as he closed his eyes again. 

“No, I don’t,” I replied back, giving up on any chances of getting up. We might be here for a while, so there’s probably no point in getting out of bed with Spencer holding me hostage. 

“Mmm, good,” he opened his eyes and looked down at me. The tired smile on his lips made me feel warm and safe as I looked at him. “How long have you been awake?” he asked, his thumb rubbing circles on my shoulder.

“Not long,” I whispered, looking right at his eyes. He looked back at me and nodded. “How did you sleep,”

“I think that was the best sleep I’ve had in a very long time,” he closed his eyes again, “Something about your bed is very comfortable,” he looked down at me and smiled. 

“Is it the bed or is it because you’re sleeping with someone to cuddle with?” I asked myself as I stared at him. “I’m happy you find my bed comfortable,” I laughed lightly. My bed is not comfortable. So I know he didn’t find it that comfortable.

“How did you sleep?” he asked, placing a hand on my cheek. I swallowed roughly as I stared at him.   

“Better than the previous night,” I shrugged a little bit. Spencer frowned as he readjusted his hold on me. “Let’s make breakfast,” I spoke out loud before sitting up, pushing his arms off me. 

“Breakfast?” 

“Yeah,” I smiled as I slipped out of bed and grasped his hand to pull him out of bed. He grumbled before standing out of the bed. I smiled at him before practically skipping out of the bedroom. “I’m sure I have something!” I spoke out loud, knowing I have nothing much for breakfast.

 I went right to the kitchen, instantly eyeing up the loaf of bread that was probably a little stale. I grabbed it and opened the fridge, happy to see a carton of eggs. And with that, I made eggs in a basket. I hope that Spencer would enjoy that. Considering it was one of the only things I knew how to make.

“Coffee?” Spencer asked as he slowly walked into the kitchen. I turned around and pulled open a cabinet. A can of Folgers was sitting on the top shelf. I pouted as I stared at the can.

“I don’t think it’s good,” I muttered as I pulled the can from the shelf. “I probably had this stupid can of grounds for an embarrassingly long time,” I spoke as I looked into the can and noted that the grounds were kinda gross and kinda clumpy, causing me to pout. “No coffee,” I muttered, tossing the can to the garbage, only to miss and go over. The can landed with a clang on the ground. 

“We can always get some later,” Spencer smiled as he bent over to pick up the can. I raised my eyebrow at him as he tossed the can to the trash, without failing.

“We?” I asked, turning to watch him lean against the counter. He shrugged and smiled.

“Why not,” he shrugged again. I smiled as I looked at him. It was only then that I realized I was burning the food.

“Oh no!” I jumped around to the stove to remove the pan from the stove. “I hope you’re okay with burnt eggs and toast,” I pouted as I looked back at Spencer. He had stepped closer to the stovetop to watch me. He looked very amused with my laughter and urgency with cooking. “Don’t laugh!” I looked up at his face.

“I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you panic over food before,” he pointed out with a smile. I looked down at the burnt food as I carefully moved it to a plate.

“I’m hungry,” I muttered before shrugging. I looked back up at Spencer and shrugged.

“That’s a good thing…” 

“Being hungry? How is that a good thing?” I scoffed and raised an eyebrow.

“You have your appetite back,” Spencer pointed out before he lifted me up to set me back down on the counter. It was so effortless as he moved me. I was impressed that he barely strained to lift me (unless, he did and I was just oblivious to it).  We were at the same level now, and I was able to look him in the eye instead of at his chest. 

“Why’d you do that?” I looked at him before looking at the counter beside me. 

“So we can have an eye to eye conversation,” he smiled at me. I rolled my eyes and looked down at the plate of two burnt eggs in a basket. “Can I ask you a question?” he asked, watching as I started picking at the food. He smiled as he stood between my legs. 

“You just did,” I smiled, trying to pretend like I wasn’t suddenly anxious. Why ask someone if you can ask a question? Why not just ask the question? That’s like #1 reason why people get anxious. 

“I want to take you to the office, so you can meet everyone,” he whispered as he grabbed some food too. I looked up at him with wide eyes.

“You want to take me… To the FBI…” I stared at Spencer. I almost relapsed yesterday and had the worst day of the year yesterday... And, he wants to take me to… The FBI to meet his friends… I could feel bile rising from my stomach. It honestly took everything in me to hold back the sick. So, I slowly lowered my hand and food back to the counter.

“Yeah, they’re my family, and you’re my family… So, that also makes them yours,” Spencer smiled at me. I dropped my shoulders as I stared at him. I really didn’t want to argue his logic there, but I understand why he said that. 

“Won’t… They’ll… Spencer, that’s… I don’t think that's a good… They’ll ask how you know me,” I whispered as I looked away from him. He rested a hand on my knee and looked at my face.

“We won’t worry about that right now,” he whispered in a reassuring tone. I stared at him and shrugged.

“What’ll we tell them? When they ask, ya know?” I looked up at him. Spencer stayed silent as he looked around my kitchen. I could only assume he was thinking really hard about what we would say and how we would lie to his family. 

“I’m not sure,” Spencer shrugged as he grasped my hands. I looked down at our hands and felt a frown forming. “I don’t know,” he whispered and shook his head. It was obvious for both of us that we would have a hard time being around his friends. Everything about telling a bunch of FBI agents that you’re addicted/was addicted to drugs can be a little (alright, a lot) intimidating. What are they going to do? The worst thing is they arrest me and fire Spencer. “Don’t overthink it,” he looked up at me. I nodded.

“I just won’t think about it,” I forced a smile before shrugging. Spencer gave me a knowing smile. “If they’re your family, Spencer, then they’re my family,” I sighed deeply as I looked down at my legs. I pulled my hands from his before rubbing my hands up and down my thighs. “And, I’d love to meet your family,” I sighed even deeper as I looked up at him. His face lit up a little bit with my words, and it genuinely made me feel happy. 

“You’ll love them,” he whispered before pulling me off the counter. I wrinkled my nose before looking up at him.

“I mean, I’ve already met Emily. And, she seemed definitely cool,” I laughed as I grabbed the plate. I looked at the two burnt pieces of bread. I tossed them into the trash and looked up at him. “I just hope everyone else is just as cool as she is, and even as cool as you,” I cocked my head as I looked up at him. He stayed silent before pulling me into a hug. “When would you even want me to go?” I asked once he released me. My stomach felt upside-down as I asked my stupid question. “Whenever you want,” he spoke softly. I looked down at the ground and nodded.

 “I should let you get to work. I know you don’t like being late,” I pouted, “I’ll see you later?” 

“Of course,” Spencer smiled before hugging me again.

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[prettyspence]

Hanging in the Inbetween

Summary: Moving to DC proves to be the right move when you meet Emily Prentiss, finally come out to your brother, and feel like you have a happy future with somebody you could actually love.

Tags: 18+, smut, reader-insert, coming out, internalised homophobia, getting together, smut/kink tags under the cut

Pairing: Emily x Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Read on AO3

Smut/Kink Tags: top!emily prentiss (but the lines kinda blur), light dom/sub, fingering, sex toys, dirty talk, kink negotiation, first time

You moved to DC for a few reasons, the first of which was that you wanted to get the fuck out of Virginia.

The move to Richmond from Manassas hadn’t even helped much: you were working in your dream field and had some distance from your family, sure, but Virginia’s still the South. And after you came to a very poignant realisation about yourself earlier in the year, you wanted to get as far away from the bigotry that defined your lived experience there as possible.

The second reason was that you missed Aaron. Your brother had moved away when you were only little, but you’d always been close and he was the only family member left that you felt you could genuinely trust with your secret, even if the idea of telling him that you liked women still left you frozen with fear.

So when he invited you to brunch with his colleagues at the FBI you agreed in a heartbeat, it seemed like a great way to meet new people in your new city and spend time with your incredibly busy older brother simultaneously.

If you had any doubts about your sexuality, Emily Prentiss would have eradicated them. As soon as she’d walked into the cafe, her enigmatic presence had captivated you and you were hooked, addicted, obsessed. She smiled warmly at you but all you could do was stare dumbly at her as you shook her hand, eventually managing a weak smile in return. It was as if she was glowing, the others dimming in comparison as you took in her breath-taking beauty. Every time she spoke your breath caught, aching to bask in her voice for the rest of your days.

It felt so dramatic, childish almost. You’d never understood that ‘take your breath away’, ‘at first sight’ kind of love, but you knew it as soon as you met Emily.

But Emily was this gorgeous, confident woman. You knew she was a lesbian, she didn’t hide that from anyone and frequently made jokes about it, and while you shared her identity, the way you approached it couldn’t have been more different. Sure, if anyone looked hard enough, they would catch the adoring looks you sent Emily at every get-together, the way you blushed at any interaction with her. Hell, even she probably knew.

But it could never happen. After years of conservative indoctrination and being surrounded by people convinced of your ‘sin’, you were still on your journey to accepting yourself, still sometimes sick to your stomach every time you remember that you weren’t ‘normal’, that your parents wouldn’t see you as their daughter as soon as you told them. So you hide under layers of facade, wear a mask of confidence over your crippling insecurity and internalised homophobia, pretend that everything’s fine when it feels like you’re crumbling under the surface.

You thought you’d crumble further when Aaron inevitably discovered the truth about you, but really it’s the moment where your foundation starts to rebuild itself. It happens completely accidentally one evening, you don’t mean to come out at all. You’ve been so careful at using gender neutral language for so long. You always talked about a future ‘partner’, said ‘they’ when talking about prospective relationships, the kind of words that don’t attract questions or attention. But you slip up.

“Have you thought about getting back out there, Y/N?” Aaron asks one evening, when you’re both sitting on his couch having a much needed catch-up. “I know it’s been hard after you and Samuel broke up, but maybe you should think about putting yourself back in the scene.”

“God, Aaron, you are not talking about my love life, please,” you groan, swatting his arm lightly. He’s not usually interested in what’s going on in your romantic relationships as long as you seem happy, but it’s been pretty obvious how low you’ve been recently. It’s sort of sweet that he’s talking about something he feels so awkward about to try and make his sister smile.

“I’m serious,” he smiles fondly. “I want to see you happy again, like you were with Tom, remember?”

You were not happy with Tom. You’re not sure you’ve ever been happy in a relationship (for the obvious reason that none of them were women) but you’re pretty damn good at pretending, so you can hardly blame him.

“Ahh, I don’t know, Aaron,” you grimace. You can’t think about anyone but Emily right now, God you’ve tried to move on but everyone seems to pale in comparison at the moment. “When I finally get a girlfriend I want it to be real, you know. An accidental meeting, nothing manufactured…”

You trail off as you see his eyes widen and face contort in surprise. Immediately, your stomach sinks and eyes brim with tears as you realise how badly you’ve fucked up. Jumping up from the sofa, you run to the bathroom and lock yourself in, barely able to contain the sobs as you feel your world implode around you. Fuck, you’re out. Aaron knows.

You sink down to the floor and fold yourself as tightly as possible, trying to hold yourself completely as you feel your walls crashing down, anxiety taking over. It’s only minutes after you’ve barricaded yourself in the bathroom that you hear the knocks at the door.

“Y/N,” Aaron says softly. “It’s okay, I’m not angry, I was just surprised. Why don’t you come out and we can talk about this? I’m not mad, I promise.”

It feels like it must be some sort of trap. Surely Aaron isn’t really okay with it? Choosing to trust your brother despite your scepticism, you peel yourself out of your protective position and splash some cool water on your face in an attempt to calm yourself down a little before unlocking the door.

You must look utterly miserable because Aaron’s face immediately softens and he envelopes in a warm, protective hug, the kind that used to reassure you in your childhood and still has the same effect today.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Y/N?” he asks as he guides you to the sofa, voice gentle.

You take a deep breath before you explain everything, finally unloading the emotional turmoil that’s been whirling around inside you for months, connecting with another person properly since you realised yourself. You weren’t lying anymore; Aaron knew the truth.

Aaron basically forces you to stay over that night, tucking you in the way he used to do before he left for college, left for Washington to be a big bad FBI agent. You don’t fight him. It’s nice to be taken care of again, to feel really close to your brother for the first time in a long time.

Instead of crumbling, your foundation is firmer. You genuinely feel like you can do this, like you have a happy future ahead of you again.

⭐️

It’s a Tuesday evening and you’re running across town, butterflies swimming in your tummy. An excited smile is playing over your face on the metro, in the taxi, while you run down the road towards Aaron’s apartment. You keep checking your phone to confirm this is really happening, but the text message isn’t leaving; it isn’t a delusional mirage borne from isolation and desperation.

Hi Y/N, how would you feel about grabbing coffee with me later this week? ;) Feel like we haven’t had a chance to properly get to know one another! Let me know - Emily

You pound on the door as soon as you get there, knowing Jack is at a sleepover with his friend tonight, squealing as soon as Aaron opens the door. He smiles amusedly as he lets you in, practically bouncing with excitement as you thrust your phone in his face. “Is this what I think it is?” you ask eagerly as he reaches a hand to steady your shaking ones so he can read the message.

“I don’t know, Y/N,” he says. “It could be. I’ve seen the way Emily looks at you, this looks like an invitation on a date to me, especially with the winky emoticon, but equally, she might just be asking you as a friend.” He smiles sympathetically as he says that, hating to temper your excitement. He’s never seen you this happy over a prospective partner and he doesn’t know how he missed how unhappy you were with men.

You giggle at Aaron speculating over the message as you would’ve done with your girlfriends back home. “She doesn’t know I’m gay,” you reason. “But I’m pretty obvious so she probably guessed. Maybe she really does want to go on a date with me!”

“Well, why haven’t you messaged back?” he asks.

“I wanted to tell you first,” you say, a little shyly. It was just nice to share in your truth with somebody. You couldn’t help feeling so eager about it.

He smiles fondly down at you. “Why don’t you make your message back a little more flirty?” he suggests as he makes his way to the kitchen to get you both a drink.

“Ooh, okay,” you muse. Subsequently, the next half an hour is spent agonising over the appropriate response, giggling and squabbling together in the way you used to before life got in the way.

Emily, I’d love to! It would be a great pleasure to spend some more time with your gorgeous self ;) How does Thursday at Cooper’s work? Maybe late morning?- Y/N

As long as we don’t get a case, I’m there :) - Emily

(If Aaron does his utmost to ensure there isn’t a case, well that’s nobody’s business but his own.)

⭐️

After agonising all morning over the perfect outfit, you hurry across the city to get to your favourite cafe in time to meet Emily. You arrive first, ordering yourself a coffee and a pastry and finding a cosy seat in the bay window, your favourite spot. Thankfully, it’s not overly busy and Emily spots you as soon as she walks in not long after you’ve sat down, grinning widely as she approaches.

“Y/N, I’m so glad we could finally do this,” she says earnestly as she gives you a hug.

“I know,” you smile shyly, returning her hug and revelling in having her so close, feeling the warmth of her body against yours, catching the gentle notes of her perfume.

“I’ll just go order a mocha and I’ll be right back,” she smiles, heading over to the counter.

You sit back and just watch her, how graceful and powerful she looks as she moves, how assertive and confident she is. Her gorgeous raven hair frames her face so perfectly and her body looks so strong under her smart, professional but stylish outfit. She smiles beautifully as she comes back over, holding a pastry in her other hand.

“Ah, another pastry addict,” you say, still a little shy and flustered.

“Oh, don’t you know it,” Emily chuckles self-deprecatingly. “Nothing better than a buttery pastry mid-morning, right?”

“Mm, I’ve got a huge sweet-tooth,” you confess. “I’ll do pretty much anything for a sweet treat.”

She laughs loudly at that, looking at you with so much warmth you think she might light you on fire. “I don’t blame you,” she agrees. “The team knows that if I’m grumpy, all I need is something sugary and I’m back on track.”

“You’re so lucky to have such a wonderful team,” you tell her, smiling back at her. “I’m so jealous of you and Aaron, surrounded by all these amazing people.”

“Oh, I know it,” she says. “Found family is important, and I rely on them a lot. I never thought getting into the FBI would change my life this much.”

“Oh, really? What led you to the academy?” you ask, gazing at her adoringly, not bothering to hide it. If you’ve misread the situation, so be it. You’re fed up of hiding, you’re going to take this risk, dive head first into it.

You chat amicably over coffee and pastry for over an hour, and when she frowns and tells you she has to get back to work, you can’t help the raging disappointment inside you. You’ve never felt this connected to somebody, ever. Maybe it’s just that Emily is the first woman you’ve allowed yourself to crush on properly, but it feels like more than that. It feels real, reciprocated even. You can’t help the burning excitement in your chest as you think about what it might be like to be close to her, to call her your girlfriend, to kiss her, to come home to her.

She gives you another hug before you part ways and the smouldering imprint of her body against yours keeps you warm the whole journey home.

⭐️

It’s nearing 7pm when you hear the knock at the door. You uncurl yourself from your cosy position on the sofa and put down your hot chocolate, leaving the movie you’re watching playing quietly in the background as you get up to answer it.

“Emily?” You’re a little bewildered to be honest. Wrapping your cardigan a little tighter around yourself, you send her a puzzled look, but you’re curious, too. “What are you doing here?”

“I need to tell you something,” she says, face serious. “I’m done screwing around; we’re not children, so let’s talk about this like adults.”

Right on cue, butterflies start swimming in your tummy, partly nerves, partly warm fuzzy hope. “Okay,” you say, still a little confused, but you guide her to the sofa and gesture for her to speak.

“I like you,” she says, taking a deep breath. “I’ve liked you since I met you and you intrigue me. I want to know more about you. I think you’re absolutely gorgeous, inside and out, and I’d love to take you out for dinner, on a proper date.”

You’re stunned for a moment, not entirely sure you’re actually awake. “Yes,” you say as soon as you reboot, reaching out to grab her hands gently. “Yes, please, that sounds amazing. I like you, too, I’ve liked you since I first met you.”

Her face lights up at your admission as you share a heated look before leaning in for a gentle kiss. You scoot a little closer to her and place your hands tentatively on her waist, only feeling emboldened when she leans a hand up to place on your neck, the other finding your hip. As you melt into her touch you feel her melt into yours, a mutual melding; a coming together.

It doesn’t stay chaste and gentle for long, however, quickly finding a rhythm that properly conveys the intense passion and amour filling the room, Emily eventually leaning forward and pushing you back slightly on the couch so she can lean more of her weight on you. This must be heaven. No kiss has ever felt like this, not even with your long-term boyfriends, no-one has ever made you feel the sparks that are flashing in your tummy right now.

“Hey, is this too fast?” she asks as she pulls back a bit, breathing heavily as she reaches a hand up to brush some of your hair away from your face. “Do you want to slow down?”

“No, no,” you deny, desperate to continue. “I don’t want to stop, I just… I haven’t been with a woman before.”

Your confession is shy, tentative; you don’t want to scare her off, but she simply smiles softly down at you, continuing to gently caress your hair. “Don’t worry about that,” she says. “We’ll see where this takes us and if you want to stop or slow down just tell me, alright?”

“Yeah,” you agree before leaning back in to continue the kiss, pushing your hand up under her shirt slightly and feeling her toned abs, the soft curve of her waist. It only serves to make you wetter, the feel of a woman under your palms more euphoric than you ever could have anticipated.

She moans as you explore her midriff, pushing your shirt up to do the same, and if you thought feeling a woman was amazing, being felt by one feels incredible, shivering under her touch as she runs her fingers up and down your waist, pushing your shirt up even more to caress the sides of your breasts.

“Off.” You obey and sit up a little bit to shrug off your cardigan and t-shirt as she does the same, both left only in your bras and pants, pressed skin-to-skin on the sofa. “Fuck, you’re so gorgeous, Y/N,” she moans, kissing you deeper as she tangles her fingers in your hair, tugging a little at the strands.

“Emily,” you whine as her other hand comes to your breast, teasing you with a finger slowly before running her thumb over your nipple through your lacy bra, squeezing gently. You’re already a dripping mess for her, this is already the best sex you’ve ever had, and you’ve barely started.

“Let’s go to the bedroom,” she suggests, pulling back a little to sit up before taking your hand and letting you lead the way. “Take your bra off and lie down on the bed.” Her voice is soft but there’s an authority to it that calms you slightly. You may not know exactly what you’re doing but Emily does and she’s going to take care of you.

“I have a few toys,” you confess shyly as you follow her orders, watching her with blown pupils all the while. “They’re washed and clean, and there are condoms and latex gloves, too.”

“Oh?” Emily asks, quirking an eyebrow slightly.

“They’re in the bottom drawer,” you say, blushing wildly as you share your sex toy collection with the woman you’ve been crushing pretty hard on for a while now.

She immediately lights up and rummages through, a playful smirk colouring her face as she pulls out a few options. You take in the fairly sizable dildo -- a favourite of yours -- the finger vibrator you’d bought only last month and a butt plug you’d had for years with hungry eyes, excited for what she has in mind.

“Before we really get going, let’s talk,” Emily smiles gently, leaning over to kiss you softly before pulling back. “What are you into, up for, wanting to try?”

“I’m not really sure,” you say, blushing awkwardly. This kind of discussion is fairly foreign for you. “I’ve never enjoyed sex before because it was always with a man.”

Emily pulls a face to make you laugh before nodding in agreement. “Okay, well how about I tell you a few of the things I like and you can tell me if you’re comfortable with them? And if you do try it and you’re not into it we’ll just stop, yeah?”

“That sounds like a plan.”

“Great. I like to be on top mostly, I’m quite a dominant person but I can tone that up or down to whatever you like, too,” she starts. “I’m very into dirty talk -- a little mild verbal degradation etcetera -- I love clitoral stimulation and don’t get much from internal simulation so maybe you could use this finger vibrator on me while I tell you what to do? And I could use this dildo on you if you’d like, the butt plug, too?”

“With my boyfriends the only time they could make me cum is if they got really into dirty talk, calling me names and stuff” you confess, “so that works for me, especially if you alternate with praise. And I’m happy for you to top and be more dominant, that sounds… good. All of what you said, I want, except I think the butt plug is a bit adventurous for today?” Your face must be fire engine red but Emily is looking at you fondly so you clearly haven’t turned her off with your inexperience or bashfulness.

She grins at you before leaning in to kiss you again. “Perfect. If I say or do anything you don’t like, tell me immediately. I won’t be offended, okay? I’ll do the same.” You nod in agreement, blush calming down as she settles her body over yours, a comforting, reassuring weight in an unfamiliar scenario.

She quickly gets the lube and condoms out and once she’s ready, Emily trails latex covered fingers down your waist, tickling slightly and revelling in the shiver she elicits, before slipping beneath the waistband and pressing gently, teasingly against your clit. She presses another kiss to your lips, deepening it against your moans as she moves down to push a finger inside.

“Emily,” you cry, panting as the initial pressure against your walls makes you see stars, warm wetness helping to ease her fingers inside. She slowly works you open as she alternates between kissing you, sucking on your neck and whispering dirty, encouraging platitudes in your ear.

“Do you think you’re ready to take my cock, princess?” she asks, tone dripping and sultry as she whispers directly into your ear, licking a stripe over the shell as you moan loudly. She holds the condom-covered dildo directly in your line of sight as she presses her own heat against your thigh, rutting slightly to ease her own immediate arousal.

“Yes, Emily, please” you beg, pushing your thigh up so she can use it properly, getting an appreciative moan in response.

“Good girl,” she praises, kissing you again as she lines up the dildo, easing it into you gently, pausing when your aroused moans betray a hint of pain. “God, you took that so well. You are a dirty little slut for me, aren’t you? Built to take my cock.”

“Yeah,” you whine, writhing as you feel the fullness of the dildo inside you, moaning again as Emily starts to fuck in and out. She starts out slowly before speeding it up, fucking you hard with your own dildo as she murmurs absolute filth into your ear. “Stop, stop.”

She stills her hand immediately, but you quickly ease her mind. “I’m close, don’t want to come yet.”

At that, she beams down at you. “Good girl. I think it’s my turn to get off, don’t you?”

Technically, she’s been grinding down on your leg the whole time she’s been fucking you, but you get what she means and reach for the finger vibrator, dildo still wedged firmly inside you, while she rolls onto her back. You fit the vibe onto your first finger and turn it on, thankful you recently changed the battery recently as you slide on a latex covering over your finger. She smiles encouragingly as you maneuver her hips to the right angle before teasing her a little with your middle finger to ease her into it before pressing the vibe to her folds first, thoroughly enjoying the jerk her hips make at the pleasure, before working your way up to her clit.

She throws her head back and moans wantonly as you work her over, running your other hand up her side before making your way to her breasts, leaning down to suck and bite gently at them as she cups her hand against the back of your neck, keeping your mouth where she wants.

“Keep going,” she moans as she approaches her orgasm, rutting against your finger as you swallow her nipple into your mouth with renewed vigour, desperate to bring her off. She shouts your name as she cums, squirming around your finger as her hips writhe with pleasure, eyes screwed close. It’s a beautiful sight, seeing a woman cum, and it’s so much better than whatever you’ve seen in porn, because you did this. Emily’s orgasm is your work of art and you couldn’t be prouder to sign your name against it.

“Good girl,” she sighs as she comes down. “You did so well. Now, shall we finish you off, baby?”

You’re virtually there already, seeing Emily’s pleasure had been getting you closer and closer to your own orgasm. It only takes Emily rolling you onto your back, kissing you again and fucking you a few more times with the dildo  that’s stayed inside you the whole time while fingering your clit just teasingly enough to get you over the edge, powerful orgasm crashing over you as Emily whispers praise against your ear. It takes you out for a minute, lost in the haze of pleasure and its aftermath, feeling so right in that moment that you never want to leave it, wrapped up in Emily’s arms while you hang in the inbetween of a dreamy daze and reality.

Eventually, you blink your eyes open, meeting Emily’s glassy ones and smile up at her, working the energy up to roll her over and kiss her again in earnest, knowing exactly what she likes by now.

“What was that for?” she asks after you break apart, chuckling a little at your eagerness.

“A thank you,” you murmur, smiling fondly down at her.

“The best thank you you could give me is a dinner date later this week,” Emily grins. “And I’ll thank you afterwards with another mind-blowing orgasm, how does that sound?”

You stare down at her for a moment, wondering how on earth you managed to win somebody so perfect, before shaking out of it and smiling softly again. “That sounds perfect.”